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Chapter Fifteen
Sophia
“Oh my gosh,” I giggle, squeezing my hands down onto my knees as the helicopter starts to lift off the roof.
“Did you just say oh my gosh?” Solomon chuckles, his voice even huskier in the headset.
“Yes,” I cry. “I did and I’m not freaking ashamed of it, not under these circumstances.”
He chuckles as we soar higher and higher, handling the controls like it’s the most normal thing in the world to be flying a helicopter.
I squeeze my eyes shut as we pull clear away from the skyscraper and start going up, up, up to what feels like space. I’m grinning and laughing like a madwoman, making really dorky sounding noises as fear and delight merge together.
“Open your eyes, Sophia,” Solomon says, his voice rumbling in my ears. “It’s so beautiful up here. You’ll love it.”
“I’m fine, thank you very much,” I say, with another round of shaky laughter.
“I’ll never let anything happen to you,” he says.
His voice brims with certainty and honesty, his conviction making his words steady. I feel my eyelids twitching, getting ready to open, and beneath it all my desperate need for him screams to trust him, to always trust him.
He’ll always take care of me, of us—our children.
I open my eyes and stare across at the azure sky, seeming far clearer and more stunning from all the way up here.
The clouds shimmer in front of me and then I glance down at the city, growing smaller and less significant beneath us. We’re already over the water, glittering like there are a million jewels floating on its surface.
“It really is beautiful,” I murmur.
I look across at him, his jaw coated in a fine layer of silver dust. His hair is swept under the headset, his suit clutching tightly onto his body as though it’s just as obsessed with his muscles as I am. He casually moves the stick, flipping a few buttons, smirking over at me before returning his attention to the heavens.
“I’m glad you like it,” he says.
“Since when did you fly helicopters, Mr. Spy?”
He chuckles. “Is that my new nickname, my little dreamer?”
“I think it fits,” I say, finding that I can sink into the motion of the helicopter now, the thrum vibrating through my body. “Secret rooms dotted all over the city, you look the part, and now this. What else am I supposed to think?”
“You’re my lady, Sophia,” he says. “You can think anything you want. But if you’re getting excited about the idea of me being a spy, I’m afraid I’ve got to disappoint you. I’m just your average billionaire.”
I giggle at the oxymoron, and he smirks, turning the joystick and guiding us further and further onto the ocean. It’s like we’re suspended in a world of spring blue, the sea below and the sky above – and in front – enhancing the sensation of floating.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“Somewhere private,” he says. “Somewhere we can pretend the rest of the world doesn’t exist. Somewhere I can take you and you can scream without worrying about anyone hearing.”
I move my hands over my stomach as nerves twist against lust, neither of them winning completely.
“You trying to turn me on even more?” Solomon snarls, glancing at me with those startling emerald eyes of his.
“What, by touching my belly?” I giggle.
“Yes. Fuck yes,” he growls. “Every part of you turns me on, but your belly is one of your sexiest features. You know why, my little dreamer? Because I can easily imagine how fertile and gorgeous you’re going to look when you’re pregnant. When you touch your belly like that, it makes me think of our future, of our family, and that really fucking turns me on.”
I let out a whimper, stunned by how easily he can prompt that sound from me. It just comes out, unbidden, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.
There’s nothing I want to do to stop it.
The vibrations of the helicopter make me squeeze my thighs together, the motion of the machine thrumming through my sex, against my clit.
Everything aches.
“You horny thing,” Solomon groans. “You’re getting off right now, aren’t you?”
“No,” I whimper.
“Fine—no. But you could.”
I bite my lip, nodding at him, the vibrations of the helicopter making my pussy hotter and wetter with each moment.
“Touch yourself,” he snaps.
“Huh?”
“You heard,” he snarls. “Touch your pussy. Make yourself come. Be loud, too. I want to hear you moan for me.”
He does something to the joystick, increasing our speed … and making it judder and throb even more urgently against my sex. The motion has me bucking up and down, my lips aching with the need for release.
“Are you serious?” I moan.
“I won’t ask again,” he snaps. “Do it.”
I slide my hand from my belly to my thighs, wedging my hand between my legs.
“Slowly at first,” he instructs. “I’ll tell you when you can go faster.”
