And yet he doesn’t stop what he’s doing.
If anything, he adds extra sauciness to his sucking.
Naughty boy.
I stroke his head and, once he’s finished, I let him move his arms. Now he’s still in my lap, but he’s back to holding on to my arm, which is draped across his chest.
“You’re talking putting up with me for the better part of ten years,” I say. “Sure you don’t want to reconsider?”
Elliot shakes his head. “I’m not reconsidering, Sir. I know I made the right choice. The perfect choice.”
Well, fuck.
What am I supposed to say tothat?
Ruffling his hair, I let out a sigh of my own. “Then I guess you’re stuck with me for the long-haul, boy.”
The playful smirk returns. “Glad to be stuck with you, Sir.”
I suppose we’ll find out what Leo thinks of it when he eventually finds out.
Don’t know if the thought of that fills me with dread or hope.
Maybe both.
We’ve cleaned up and Elliot’s fully dressed, including his tie and blazer, before I unlock the suite’s door and go in search of a flight attendant to get us something to drink.
Non-alcoholic, obvs.
Although I wouldn’t mind getting my hands on some booze later, once we’re safely locked inside Elliot’s house. I could damn sure use a drink.
I leave the suite door open so when the flight attendant brings our drinks the man can see Elliot stretched out in one of the single recliners with his eyes closed.
Looking like he’s still working on a migraine.
What Elliot’s really doing is enjoying his post-orgasm coma and struggling not to fall asleep. Which I told him he could take a nap, if he wanted. He looks fucking exhausted and admitted to me he’s not sleeping well.
I can totally sympathize.
At least now I know Elliot’s feeling steadier. Our encounter wasn’t much, but it was a start in the right direction to getting his ship fully righted again.
If only it were so easy to right my own.
