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She was right. This was different. Because this wasn’t us being at the mercy of our chemistry. This was us being very purposeful.
This was me doing something for her.
I wasn’t used to reassuring people, but I tried. ‘Don’t worry. I would have told the stewardess to stay put if I thought it would be a problem.’
Her uncertainty melted away entirely. ‘Okay, good. Well...’ She lifted her hips. ‘Come on. Get going.’
Impatient girl.
I was generally a selfish man but not sexually, and especially not now, with her. This was ab
out what Ellie wanted. And I was going to give it to her. Slowly.
I tightened my grip on the fabric still covering her and tugged it down, easing it over her butt, down her thighs and off, before discarding it onto the floor of the cabin.
She’d gone the loveliest shade of pink and I put my hands on the armrests of her seat, taking a moment to look at her, because she was a fucking gorgeous sight. All silky pale skin and the dark nest of curls between her thighs.
The pink became scarlet as a tide of red washed over her skin and her hands lifted as if to cover herself, but I caught her wrists before she could, gripping and holding them lightly. ‘You don’t want me to look?’
She shifted uncomfortably but didn’t pull away. ‘No... I just... Mark used to look at me and I didn’t like it.’
‘I’m not Mark.’
‘No, I know, but I—’
I released one wrist and caught her chin in my fingers, holding her so she had no choice but to meet my gaze. ‘I’m not Mark,’ I repeated. ‘And this is different, understand? Yes, I like to be in charge, but the only reason I am is because you’re letting me.’ I tightened my grip, because this was important. No, this was vital. ‘You have the power here, pretty thing. And you have it because your pleasure matters. It didn’t matter to him, not one fucking iota. But it matters to me.’
She didn’t say anything, her attention focused on me as if she’d never seen me before in her entire life. And that made my cock even harder, my body liking the way she was staring at me very much indeed.
‘Let me look,’ I went on, letting her see the desire in my gaze. ‘Because you’re beautiful and I like looking at you. And I think there’s a part of you that likes me looking at you, too. A part that you don’t want to let yourself acknowledge.’
Emotions flickered through her expressive face, gone so fast that I couldn’t decipher them. But then I felt the slight resistance drain from her arms, her wrist going lax in my grip. And she eased herself back in the seat, her chin lifting, the expression glowing in her eyes very clear now. A challenge. Because of course, she was a fighter.
‘Shall I show you how much you like it, then?’ I asked, to be certain.
She lifted a shoulder, as if she didn’t much care. But the gold flames in her eyes told a different story.
So I let go of her wrists and reached for the hem of her T-shirt, tugging gently on the fabric to indicate what I wanted, keeping my attention on her face.
Another flicker of uncertainty, but then she leaned forward and slowly raised her arms, letting me pull the cotton up and over her head, taking her bra with it, so at last she was sitting in her seat completely naked.
Then I put my hands on the armrests again and I looked, taking my time, letting my gaze track down, over the slight, sweet curves of her perfect tits with their pretty pink and rapidly hardening nipples. Then the graceful indentation of her waist and the curving plane of her stomach. Down further to the flare of her hips and her rounded thighs.
Beautiful. Absolutely fucking beautiful.
She trembled, but didn’t move. Didn’t cover herself. She’d gone bright red, but she didn’t look away, either.
Brave girl.
But I wanted to see more.
I put my hands on her knees, spreading them apart, watching for any sign of resistance, but there was none. So I pushed them wider, my gaze falling hungrily to the tantalising nest of dark curls and pink flesh.
So fucking pretty. And she was wet, too, I could see the slick gleam of moisture on her skin.
Desire pulsed through me, thick and hot, the ache in my groin becoming demanding.
‘Yes,’ I said roughly. ‘You like me looking at you, don’t you?’
