“What?”
“Your family.” She stopped, perhaps growing shy at the suddenly cold look in my eyes. “I mean, you never talked much about them. But your parents, what do they do?”
“My mother knew how to hustle.” I gave a dry laugh. “I don’t know about my dad. I never met him.”
“So, you don’t know. Maybe—?”
“No.” I cut her off. I didn’t like how much weight she placed on family, like what your family did defined you. I’d spent my whole life proving the opposite. I didn’t want to sit here with her speculations, like maybe I was a chip off the old block. My father was a dog who’d run out on his pregnant girlfriend, if she’d even been that to him. I didn’t know who he was and I had no interest in finding out.
“Look, we’re taking off.” I shifted on the couch, gesturing at the window and bringing a large thigh against her slender leg. She looked down, instantly riveted by our physical contact. She could feel it too, I realized, the intense electricity that ran between us. Even the slightest contact provoked a full charge.
Reaching over to her thigh, I placed a hand on her white jeans and began tracing the inside seam with my thumb. I didn’t reach too far up. It was the kind of gesture you could make in public without raising an eyebrow. But we were in private, the pilots up front in the cockpit, and this was just the beginning.
She sat up straight, her limbs becoming still and aware.
“Do you see the hotel?” I asked, reaching my other arm across her to point out the window. My bicep grazed her breast and I felt the heat of her through my shirt.
“Yes,” she murmured, drawing in her breath, her nipples growing taut. So responsive. It brought out the predator in me.
“Did you enjoy yourself in my hotel?” I asked, stroking steadily along the seam on her inner thigh.
“Yes,” she purred. While I enjoyed her happy chatter, I liked watching talking become more difficult for her, her body starting to take over and leave her mind blank.
“I like these jeans, Kara.” My palm moved now along both her thighs, admiring her, slowly stoking the fires, the cotton form-fitting and soft. “They mold to your curves.” My fingers came near the center of her V, but not quite touching. She parted her legs for me to allow more access, her breathing growing shallow.
“Did you buy them for me?”
“Yes.”
“Stand up and show me.” Shy, hesitant, she stood up. I motioned with my finger for her to turn around. I wanted to see her from all angles. Her ass was a work of art in those jeans. “Take them off,” I growled.
“But we’re on a plane!” Kara protested as if we were in the middle of coach surrounded by other passengers.
“Are you worried someone’s going to press the call button? An air marshal’s going to come arrest you?” Her eyes flitted around the plane’s interior as if testing out the likelihood of those scenarios.
“It’s just you and me, sweetheart,” I confirmed. “The pilots are up in the cockpit. They’re not coming back here.” I turned the force of my dark gaze on her. “It’s time for you to strip down the way I want. Give me your foot.” She stretched out one of her legs. I grasped her ankle in my hand. “First these have to come off.” I reached down to her gold high-heeled sandals, fumbling with the straps.
Laughing, she pushed my hands out of the way. “Your fingers are so big.”
I let her do the work. She nimbly yet nervously unfastened her shoes. As she bent over, she gave me a glimpse of her breasts cupped in her bra. Not for long. Once the heels came off, she rose, still uncertain, a hand on the couch. Slowly, she unfastened her jeans. I loved the first glimpse at her lingerie, the bit of lace that emerged as she pulled the jeans down along the curves of her hips. Cream lace, simple, skimpy. Nice.
She took them off entirely and lay them on the couch.
“Now put these on again.” I held up the strappy heels to her, dangling from one of my fingers.
Hesitant, she retrieved them from me, then slipped into the pair. I liked watching her bend over, twisting slightly as she fastened the buckles, her hair still up in a demure ponytail. With those long legs she certainly didn’t require the heels to look like a knockout, but there was something about heels paired with lingerie and nothing else. I felt myself growing hard, a long, thick erection pressing against my jeans.
“That’s good.” I shifted in my seat and unfastened my top button. My cock strained for release. “Now take off your shirt.”
Nervous, excited, she looked at my crotch, unbuttoned yet still zipped. I knew without saying it again, she was thinking about what I’d said this morning. She needed to take her punishment. Her lips parted sweetly. Oh, what I had planned for that lush mouth. She was thinking about it, all right, and she wanted it as much as I did.
Complying with my command, she lifted her shirt up and overhead, then tossed it lightly next to her jeans on the couch. I swallowed. Soft, lush curves wrapped in creamy lace, naughty and nice all at once, like Kara herself. Flushed and jittery, she stood before me, a heady mixture of nerves and arousal as she displayed herself. I knew her well. She needed me to help bring out this side of her, access the deep well of pleasure she had hidden within.
“Turn around and show me,” I ordered, my voice growing gruffer with desire. Her panties skimmed the swell of her buttocks, rising up and dipping down. I wanted to trace the outline with my tongue, rip them off with my teeth.
By the time she turned back to face me, her nipples were peaked, swollen and straining at the fabric.
“Come here.” She took a slow step toward me. My cock grew harder as I spread apart my large, muscled legs. “Kneel.”
She sucked in her breath at my primal demand. Then she knelt down on one knee, then the other, right between my legs. Her eyes flitted to the massive bulge in my jeans. I brought my hand down and ran a thumb along my thick length. Her eyes widened as she followed the movement.
“Kara.” My voice, low and controlled, stroked her. “This morning, you touched yourself for me. Do you remember how you did that? Stripped naked and kneeling before me, your hand in your pussy?”
“Yes.” Her voice came out in a hushed, beckoning moan. She brought a hand to rest lightly along my inner thigh.
“Hands by your sides,” I stopped her. She froze, then returned her errant hand, fingers back to graze her outer thigh. She had to learn who was in control. “Now, you and I need to discuss something.” I kept my voice firm, disciplined. “Do you remember this morning? When I came on your tits?”
“Yes, and I—”
“Answer only what I ask you, Kara,” I commanded. “Do you remember when I came on your tits?”
“Yes.” Her lips closed and she looked up at me shyly. The more she showed how much she loved me taking control, the further I wanted to go.
“Think about it. I’m going to ask you a question and you need to be completely honest with me. Did you like it, Kara?” She moaned, swaying slightly. “Did you like the feel of my come dripping off of your tits?”
“Yes,” she panted, aroused by her confession. Her breasts strained against the creamy lace, her nipples hard.
“I marked you, Kara,” I continued, my voice low, level, controlled. “You’re mine. Say it.”
“I’m yours,” she readily agreed.
“Good,” I growled, her compliance feeding my hunger. “Now show me your tits.” Swiftly, she did as I asked, removing her bra. She knelt before me, her breasts rising and falling with each breath, naked and full. I brought one finger to the bottom of her swells. She shivered, her eyes closing.
“Your breasts are very sensitive, Kara. Even the slightest touch brings you great sensation. That’s very good.”
I removed my hand and reached over for my bag, feeling her watching me. I brought out a black leather case and rested it on the fabric between my legs.
“Open it.”
With shaking hands, she reached out as if it might bite her. I shifted in my seat, my cock already throbbing as
I thought about what was to come. She lifted the lid and sat back, clearly not knowing what to make of the contents.