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When I look up at him he’s watching me, an expression of teasing mockery on his handsome features.
‘That looks comfortable.’
He lifts his brows and I feel heat colour my cheeks. ‘You’re enjoying this, right?’
‘What?’
‘My...lack of sophistication.’
He puts his hands on my hips, his fingers splayed wide as he looks down at me. I stare up at him, and my nerve endings reverberate as though they’re feathers on a breeze.
‘Your innocence is completely captivating,’ he murmurs, dropping his head and brushing his lips to mine. My heart jerks, and suddenly the fact that there’s a perfectly good bed right here is a fact too prominent to ignore.
‘I don’t know if I feel so innocent any more,’ I groan, kissing him back, lifting my hands and wrapping them around his neck, pressing my body to his with urgency. I am desperate for this, for him.
His hands roam to my back, running over my spine, pressing me tight to him, and then he pushes me back a little so my back connects wit
h the cabin wall. Pleasure fires in my gut.
His hand drops, catching the fabric of my maxi dress, bunching it up in his hands to mid-thigh, and I wish he’d just rip it off me. I am desperate. He’s wearing a suit. I push my hands under his jacket, finding his shirt at the back and pulling it out of his pants so my hands can touch his bare skin; it’s warm and I close my eyes, savouring this feeling.
My hands drop to his pants, finding his belt buckle and start to unclasp it, but he makes a deep, throaty noise and lifts his head. His chest moves with the rise and fall of his rushed breaths; he is as tormented by this as I am then.
‘Let’s get in the air.’
‘Huh?’
While I’ve been losing myself in his arms, the engines have started. The plane is moving slowly down the runway.
He puts a hand in the small of my back and propels me out of the bedroom, back to the sofas.
My body is screaming at me—not kissing Michael is the last thing I want to be doing. It’s only been two days since we were together, since I left his penthouse after the blindfolding and the whip and the seriously hot sex, and yet I feel like it’s been months.
He watches as I sit down. ‘Buckle up.’ He nods towards the discreet white seat belt in the sofa.
I reach for it, clasping it in place with hands that aren’t completely steady. ‘We have to sit down for take-off? Even on a private jet?’
‘Sure.’ He shrugs, taking the seat beside me and fixing his own belt. ‘Safety first.’
I pull a face. ‘Now who’s a rule follower?’
His eyes bore into mine. ‘You think I’d take risks with your life?’
My heart turns over in my chest. ‘You mean you’d be wandering about if I wasn’t here with you?’
His eyes scan my face, studying me in a way that makes me feel as though my soul has been dragged out for his inspection. ‘I’d be working if you weren’t here.’
Desire is sparking in my belly but I take in a deep breath, forcing myself to be patient, to be calm.
‘You work a lot?’ I ask, focusing on conversation, seeing as we’re settled in for take-off. He puts a hand on my knee and, even though it’s a light contact, my pulse spurts back into high gear.
‘Yeah, I guess so.’
‘Have you always been like that? So driven?’
‘Yes.’
I laugh at his quick response. ‘Even as a kid?’
