“I m-mean”—my need has me stuttering—“I’m a hot pilot-in-training. D-do you really think you’re going to last very long?”
His grin is a press against the heated skin of my neck.
“You make multiple good points,” he murmurs, his breath a teasing breeze, coaxing goose bumps to scatter over my shoulders and down my back.
I hesitate, then go all in. “You called the plane a good girl.”
George pauses in the middle of dragging his tongue up my neck. His broad hands, still gripping my hips, flex with tantalizing pressure. “Did I?”
“When you were trying to keep it steady during the emergency landing.” I deepen my voice to imitate him. “Come on. Hold right there. That’s a good girl.”
He hums a deep note that I feel in my gut. “That’s hot.”
“Right?” I gasp, my fingers fisting in his shirt as I consider if I have the strength to shred the fabric. “It got me wet.”
George stiffens, his entire body rigid beneath me. “Explain. Please.”
He wants coherent sentences? That’s a big ask, but I try.
“Well, you see, it turns out that watching a guy skillfully handle an aircraft when we’re in a life-or-death situation is a huge turn-onfor me.” I feign nonchalance as I confess. “When we landed, the first thing I wanted to do was spread my legs, shove your hand in my pants, and come with you telling me we’re safe and calling me a good girl.”
George picks me up off his lap and plops me down on the bed beside him.
For a moment I’m mortified, sure that George is going to chastise me for making light of such a dangerous situation. But then he’s on his knees in front of me, easing my legs apart, eyes on the apex of my thighs.
“Start from the beginning,” he rasps. “I want you to tell me every dirty thought you’ve ever had about me while I suck on your clit.” Gray eyes spear into mine. “Can you do that for me?”
“Umm,” I pant. He hasn’t even slipped my underwear off yet, and I’m breathless. “Every one? There’s a lot.”
George’s eyes shut, and he presses a surprisingly gentle kiss against the inside of my knee. “Good.”
I lift my butt, helping him slide off my loose jeans and white cotton underwear. No fancy panties for me. Not that George seems to mind when he balls them in his fist and slips them into his back pocket.
“Oh no.” I sit up from where I was propped on my elbows. “Don’t even think about stealing my underwear as some sexy keepsake.” I do not have the funds to restock.
“Who says I was going to?” George mutters, pressing slow kisses up my inner thigh as his hands hold my knees wide.
“You stuffing them in your pocket like a panty thief does.” I try to glare at him but just end up whimpering as his mouth reaches the crease of my thigh and skips over to the opposite leg without even grazing my pussy.
“What if…” he murmurs the words during the breaks when hismouth isn’t on my skin, only an inch away so I feel his breath. “For every pair I take, I give you a new pair?”
I swallow hard, my tongue thick as I try to form words. “I’ll consider your proposal.”
Another grin presses into my skin. Then his thumbs carefully part my folds so his lips can circle my clit. He sucks, like he promised.
I gasp and writhe and lose all sense of gravity. Only the man’s tongue can ground me in a world of pure pleasure.
George treats my pussy with care and reverence, licking long, slow strokes across my sensitive core. And every time I whimper and beg for more, he tells me, “Not yet.”
“Lie still,” he mutters. “Be a good girl.”
I sob at that, unaware until this moment that praise-filled dirty talk would unmoor me. But from our first flight, I should have known that those two words from George would send me soaring or plummeting.
Stoic George. Quiet George.
Suddenly, I’m desperate to hearhisneedy noises.
“George,” I gasp his name, and his responding grunt caresses my sensitive core. But I don’t let the decadent sensation push me off course. “Take off your pants.”
