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“Oh,” I moan, gritting my teeth as my muscles tense up and my pussy tightens up around his cock. In that exact moment, I feel his cock twitch and spasm, and he takes both hands to my ass and squeezes both my cheeks harshly as he thrusts up with as much strength as he can.
We remain frozen in place, ecstasy washing over our bodies, and it takes a few seconds for me to realize that I’m holding my breath. Breathing in deeply, I throw my head back and smile, opening up my eyes.
“That was so … amazing,” he whispers, looking into my eyes with an enamored expression. Maybe he’s wondering if I’m going to talk him into having dinner with me, or some bullshit like that, but if so, he’s out of luck.
I’m not that kind of girl.
Raising my hips, I pop his cock out of me, and then swing one leg over his body, going up to my feet and straightening the front of my dress with one hand.
“It was good,” I tell him with a smile. I might not be the romantic kind, but it doesn’t hurt to be polite from time to time.
You see, I’m not a big believer in love. The way I see it, love is something made up by a marketing department so that more chocolates can be sold. Sure, once in a lifetime something that would deserve to be called ‘love’ appears; I believe I once saw something you could call ‘love’ when both my parents were alive. The way they looked into each other’s eyes, and the way they held hands… You know, it was magical. Unfortunately, that’s something as rare as winning the lottery, and I sure as hell am not stupid enough to fall for something like that. I’m not a gambler.
I’m all for sex, but love just isn’t my cup of tea.
“So, uhm,” the pilot starts, awkwardly unrolling the condom off his cock and pulling his pants up. “We are about to, uhm … start our descent into New York airspace.” Leaning forward, he taps a few more buttons and then glances around the dashboard, perhaps trying to check if he missed anything while he was distracted with me.
“Sure, I’ll go back to my seat,” I smile at him and, without a word more, turn on my heels and get out of the cockpit. The other pilot is standing by the door, and he throws me a furtive glance as he watches me walk down the aisle toward my seat. Yeah, he was listening in and, judging by the bulging shape in his pants, he was enjoying all of my moaning. Good for him.
Sinking down into my seat, I fasten my seatbelt and reach for the champagne in the side drawer. I pour myself a glass, and that’s when the pilot I was with gets out of the cockpit and makes his way toward me.
“Yeah?” I ask him, arching one eyebrow. God, I hope he isn’t going to ask me out.
“I just got word from the airport… There seems to be a lot of press in there waiting for you, Eliza—uhm, Ms. Seymour.”
Sigh. Of course, the hounds have caught the scent of blood and now they’re coming for me. Well, let them come.
“Thank you,” I thank the pilot, and then raise the glass to my lips and down the whole thing as he disappears back into the cockpit. A few minutes after and the plane starts cutting through the mantle of clouds, their whiteness blanketing us as we head down.
I gaze out of the window as the silhouette of New York City slowly rises in the distance, greeting me like an old friend, and I feel a pang of heartbreak inside of me. I tried to distance myself from a life I wasn’t sure I wanted, but now it’s time to face the music.
My name is Eliza Seymour, and I’ve come back to claim what’s mine.
Chapter Three
Good Day, USA
Melissa:
Welcome to Good Day USA, I’m your host this morning, Melissa Lee, and today I’m joined with Larissa Dubose.
Larissa:
Thanks Melissa. We have a great lineup for you today, but first there’s breaking news from our Society Desk—guess who’s headed back home?
If you guessed America’s favorite poor little rich girl, Eliza Seymour, you’re correct, and very scarily informed. That’s because at the time of this taping, Eliza’s plane had just landed at JFK International Airport.
The heiress was greeted by press and paparazzi but refused to comment or answer any questions. Her spokesperson commented for reporters shortly after with a simple statement that read, “Eliza Seymour has returned to America after a long hiatus from her country of birth. She seeks to grow into the role envisioned for her by her mother and father and guide the family fortune into a sustainable endowment for future generations of the Seymour dynasty.”
