In Flight (35 page)

He moved one hand away from my breasts, and I felt him fingering my sex around my panties.
 
He abruptly yanked, ripping my thong off in one brutal motion.
 
He tucked the offending garment into his pocket, then went to work freeing his impressive erection with one hand.
 

He pushed against my entrance for just a beat, then thrust into me hard, and it felt so exquisite that my eyes closed as I moaned in pleasure.
 

“Open your eyes!
 
Does this feel serious to you?” he asked me.
 
He jolted into me.

I just moaned and moved against him.
 
He moved faster and harder, thrusting in and out, until the pounding was jarringly intense.
 

“Answer me.
 
Does this feel serious to you?” he asked again.
 

It was an effort to get the words out.
 
I didn’t know how he did it.
 
My mind was in a hazy disarray that didn’t allow for clear thinking.
 

“It feels like ser-serious f-fucking,” I told him as he continued to ride me mercilessly from behind.
 

He growled like an animal and pulled my hair until the back of my head was forced to his shoulder.
 
It made my back arch impossibly back.
 
He bit my neck hard enough to leave a mark.
 

I came so hard that I thought I may have blacked out.
 
He was still riding me when my vision cleared, though his pace had slowed.
 

“If anyone asks, you’re off limits.
 
I thought we made this clear from the start,” he told me coldly, never pausing as he fucked me senseless.
 

“I-I-,” I tried to speak and couldn’t.
 
He was rubbing my clit now, building me towards another mindless release.
 
“Wha-wha-,”
 
I gave up speaking after that.
 

He was merciless, bringing me to orgasm again and again, thrusting endlessly.
 

He’s punishing me with pleasure
, I thought through the haze.
 

“Please, no more,” I told him finally, coming back down from another drugging spell.
 

“Tell me who you belong to,” he ordered, no hint of softness in his tone.
 

James wasn’t home.
 
Only Mr. Cavendish could be this callously possessive.
 

“I’m yours, Mr. Cavendish.
 
I was a virgin when I met you.
 
Don’t you remember?
 
You took my hymen.
 
If I’d wanted someone else, I wouldn’t have been untouched.”
 
I didn’t keep the desperation or the exasperation out of my voice.
 

He came with a growl, eyes still impossibly wild.
 

His cock twitched inside of me for long minutes after he finished, and he gave these impossibly sexy, involuntary thrusts as he rubbed out the rest of his long orgasm.
 

 
“If you are having trouble understanding, let me spell it out for you,” he told me harshly.
 
“This is serious, Bianca.
 
I’ve never been more fucking serious in my life.”
 

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Mr. Affectionate

James began to straighten my clothes before he’d even pulled out of me.
 
He fastened my bra, adjusting my breasts inside of the cups as though he did it every day.
 
He buttoned up my blouse, straightening my tie and then my collar.
 
He smoothed my hair, and then his own.
 

I noticed that he looked perfectly composed.
 
His hair was perfect and even his tie was straight.
 
Whereas I looked like someone had just tried to fuck my brains out.
 
I said as much.
 

He laughed.
 
It was a rich, dark sound.
 

“Not quite.
 
I was more likely trying to fuck the serious
into
you,” he said, obviously in a much better mood.
 

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a moody son of a bitch?”
 

He looked a little sheepish, and then thoughtful.
 
“Not quite like that, but I can hardly argue with it.”
 
As he spoke, he pulled out of me.
 
It was a drawn out process, and he watched me the entire time.
   

I shivered.
 
“I need to get back to work,” I said as he started to clean me, reaching around me to use the tiny sink.
 

He kissed my neck as he wet a paper towel.
 

“I want to fuck you again, Bianca,” he murmured against my skin, but made no move to do so.
 
“But I get to show you the 4
th
floor tomorrow, so you’re safe until then.
 
I would hate to ride you too hard before then and then have to take it easy.”
 

My look was a question.
 
“The 4
th
floor?”

His tone was off-hand as he cleaned me.
 
“That’s the location of our playground, Love.”
 
He straightened my skirt, smoothing it down.
 
I shivered.

“I don’t have panties now.”
 
It was an accusation.
 

“Yes, I know.
 
They’re in my pocket,” he said blandly, straightening his own clothing and refastening his slacks.
 

I watched his every move, my eyes glued to his mouth-watering length as he pushed it back into it’s confines.
 

“I could use my mouth on you,” I said, watching that instrument of pleasure disappear and licking my lips.
 
I was impetuously ravenous to do just that.
 

He straightened, watching me like a hawk in the mirror.
 
He brought a hand to my face, pushing his index finger into my mouth.
 
I opened, sucking it in.
 
He pushed his finger in and out of my mouth, a parody of the act.
 

“Harder,” he told me, and I sucked him roughly.
 
“Use your teeth, just a bit.”
 

I did, and he made a sound of approval in his throat.
 

“I’m going to fuck your mouth tomorrow.
 
But not until I’ve fucked your cunt into submission.”
 
He pulled his finger free as he spoke.

I squirmed at his coarse language, somehow never in the least offended by the dirty things he said.
 
In fact, I was hugely turned on by it.
 

“You have a filthy mouth,” I told him, my eyes heavy-lidded.
 

He smirked.
 
“Is that an invitation?
 
I could get it that way in a hurry.”
 
He ran a tongue over his teeth as he spoke.
 

My insides clenched at the sight.
 

I shook my head, trying to get my mind back on the fact that I was working and that I needed to actually do some work.
 

“I need to go.”

He gave me a twisted smile.
 
“If anyone complains, you can always say you were servicing a passenger.”
 

I wrinkled my nose at his choice of words, opening the door to ease out of the bathroom.
 
I shut it behind me, assuming he would wait a moment before following.
 

Stephan was in the galley when I opened the curtain, fixing more rum and cokes for the couple in first class.
 

“Sorry,” I mumbled, going to the counter and leaning against it.
 

He glanced at me with a wry smile.
 
“You don’t do anything half-assed.
 
You go from stone-cold celibacy to being too loud in the bathroom at work.
 
You’ve got it bad, Buttercup,” he said, but with good humor.
 

He swept from the galley to deliver the drinks and I was still blushing when he came back in.
 

James joined us, coming to hug me from behind, as though completely unconcerned about the fact that I was working.
 

I tried to pull away.
 
“James, I’m working.”
 

He just hugged me harder, kissing my neck.
 

“What has gotten into you?” I asked him.
 

“You guys should be fine, if you stay in the galley,” Stephan piped in with a smile.
 
“The plane is practically empty, the couple in first class just used the restroom in back, and they show no signs of moving at the moment.
 
Canoodle away, lovebirds.”
 

I glared at him.
 
“You’re supposed to be the voice of reason, Stephan.”
 

He shrugged.
 
“It’s not as though it’s a crowded flight.
 
If nobody knows, there’s no harm done.”

As though taking those words as an invitation, James pressed against me harder.
 

I elbowed him.
 
He didn’t budge.
 

“What about the rest of the crew?
 
Anyone could write me up for this.”
 

James kissed the top of my head, putting his hands lightly on my hips.
 
He hadn’t said a word since he’d come out of the bathroom.
 
I couldn’t fathom what he was thinking.
 
I could only tell that he was suddenly as affectionate as a baby kitten.
 

Stephan shrugged.
 
“I doubt anyone would.
 
Melissa doesn’t like you, but I have way more dirt on her, so she wouldn’t dare.
 
Just relax.
 
Flight attendants bring their significant others on flights all the time.
 
You think you’re the first one to join the mile high club?”
 

I wondered briefly about what kind of dirt Stephan had on Melissa, but we were interrupted before I could ask.
 

As though cued into our conversation, Murphy stepped out of the cockpit, grinning at us.
 

“Did you consider our offer, Bianca?” he asked jovially, taking in James without comment.
 

Hard arms wrapped just under my breasts from behind.
 

I smiled at Murphy, hoping that James wouldn’t turn things awkward.
 

“Murphy, all you did was scare the poor girl away next week, as well,” Stephan told him with a grin.
 

Murphy looked crestfallen.
 
“Is it possible I’m not as sexy as I think I am?”
 

We laughed.
 
I looked up and even James was smiling.
 

Murphy went into the restroom.
 

“See, Mr. Beautiful, he’s not so bad.”
 

His grin died.
 
“He’s not the one I’m worried about,” he told me.
 

How could such a beautiful man be insecure?
 
I wondered.
 
It was baffling to realize that he was.
 

I hadn’t
thought
James was worried about Murphy, but I was still totally bewildered that he was actually jealous of Damien.
 

“You’re the most gorgeous creature on the planet.
 
How do you not know that you’ve completely ruined me for other men?” I asked him quietly, and he gave me a beatific smile.

He bent and ravished my mouth until I yielded.
 
I was hesitant at first to share such a hot kiss outside of a bedroom.
 
But it was hard to remember that in the moment.
 
He swept a tongue into my mouth, and it went on and on.
 

I was moaning low in my throat when he pulled away.
 

“Tell me that again,” he murmured against my kiss-softened lips.
 

“A male supermodel would look downright homely standing next to you.
 
No man could compare to you.
 
Why would I ever bother with another one?”
 
I spoke the words quietly, and he was swiftly kissing me again.
 

I realized I had found a weak spot.
 
The words were nothing but the truth, but I needed to remember to use them when I needed them.
 
I doubted he could stay mad when I reassured him in such a way.
 

I had no idea how long we’d been necking like teenagers when he pulled back again.
 
I looked up into the startled gaze of Captain Damien, and a sheepish Stephan.
 

“Oh, hey,” I murmured through kiss-swollen lips.
 
The two men looked like they had been trying to speak to us and I hadn’t even noticed.
 

James wrapped himself around me from behind again, his arms under my breasts and dangerously close to brushing too close for decency.
 
He kissed my neck, giving me a soft bite as he pulled away.
 
It was way too sensual for company, but I knew he didn’t give a damn.
 

He reached out a long arm to the shorter Damien.
 
“Hi.
 
I’m James Cavendish.
 
Bianca’s boyfriend.”

Damien shook his hand, looking stunned.
 
“Oh.
 
Boyfriend?
 
Oh, well, hi.
 
I’m Damien.
 
Nice to meet you.
 
You must be a pretty great guy if Bianca gave you a chance.”