I get it now. Related but twisted. A sick person desperate to be loved.
But it’s not Hamish I’m thinking about.
It’s Mom.
—
Axe doesn’t need telling twice. We’re off the island quickly, ushered by a gorgeous man named Hawk—who looks so much like an action hero, I can’t quite believe he’s a real flesh-and-blood person—and then soon after onto another private jet, and I somehow have acquired a new sundress and underwear. This time, I’mactually awake to enjoy the ride, holding Axe’s hand, my head on his strong shoulder as we watch the world pass below.
“Distract me,” I say when we’ve been quiet for a while. So far, Axe hasn’t pushed for details or asked why my face looks like I’ve seen a ghost. Instead, he’s just been there—calm, steady, a fortress in strong wind.
“Aye, that shouldn’t be hard,” he says, grinning. We’re sitting next to each other in plush leather seats, and he presses the call button for the flight attendant. She’s standing in front of us in fewer than ten seconds.
“We’re going to need some privacy,” Axe tells her, and she nods, unbothered, and steps forward to draw the curtain.
I don’t wait. I’m on him before she even finishes. I need to get lost in his kisses, in his warmth, in the exquisite safety of his arms. Our lips meet, and I immediately turn the kiss desperate. He groans and whispers into my ear.
“Take whatever you need, bonny lass.” He knows I desire total obliteration, and he’s the only one who can give it to me.
I want him so badly that my pussy feels hollow. I need him inside me right now.
This will not be slow and tender. I don’t want foreplay. I don’t want to make love, not during this foray into the Mile High Club. I want to fuck.
I pull off his shirt in one single tug and then get frustrated that he’s still mostly dressed.
“Stupid, stupid pants,” I say, and he laughs. He sets me down on my feet and stands up. He undoes his buckle and drops his trousers. I yank down his underwear, which is tented by that perfect giant cock, which I give one, then two delicious, slow tugs. Then I push him back down onto his seat.
“I shouldn’t have bothered to buy you panties,” Axe says. “Youshould go commando for the rest of our lives.” I shiver at his casual mention ofthe rest of our lives, relieved that he, too, understands that this new thing between us is going to stick. Somehow, without saying a word, we both know we’re forever. Neither of us will ever look up at the night sky alone again.
A slow grin spreads across my face. “Oh, so you want me to goregimental? I was wondering if that was actually a Scottish thing or just something that romance novels made up to make kilts extra hot.”
He chuckles. “Aye, lass, it’s real enough. But I think we both know you don’t need a kilt to make things hot.”
“True,” I say, tilting my hips just enough to make his breath hitch.
Axe pulls the lace of my new underwear down gently this time, so it doesn’t rip. I growl my annoyance. Too slow. He laughs again, delighted by my desperation.
I climb onto him. I’m dripping wet, ready before we’ve even started. Axe doesn’t seem to mind—he’s also raring to go—and when I center his dick and then lower myself in one quick motion, his groan rumbles through me like thunder.
“Good girl,” he says, with his hands gripping my hips and his head thrown back. “Already so fucking good.”
I start to ride him, slow for a few beats, just to adjust to the sheer size of him, and then fast, because I’m suddenly so thirsty for his cock, I can’t wait. I pant in his ear and set a punishing rhythm. He finds my clit with his fingers and circles while he nibbles and sucks on my breasts.
“Fuck,” I say, because he is giving me everything I want and need. That total obliteration. I am lost only in chasing the feel of him, the high of riding him, the shuddering crash that is going to leave me spent. “You were made for me.”
“I was made for you,” he repeats, and I can tell he, too, is gone. Meeting me in this place of pure pleasure. More than thirty thousand feet from reality. He tilts his hips, and somehow he finds a whole new angle that hits me in the perfect spot.
“Please, please, please,” I beg, near tears, though I don’t know what I’m begging for. I want nothing more than what he’s already giving me.
“Josie, I’m going to—I don’t think I can hold on for—”
But he doesn’t finish his sentence, because suddenly I’m screaming from the delicious pleasure of release, and I come harder than I’ve ever come in my whole life. I grip his shoulders so tightly, I’m sure I’ve broken skin.
He follows me over the edge, and I feel his juddering release inside me. I still, and he holds me there, forehead to forehead, our bodies still joined, both of us a sweaty mess of exhilaration. We breathe each other’s air as we pant, and tears spring to my eyes.
Despite the horror of what I have to face when we reach the ground, I’m not sure I’ve ever felt more at peace than I do right now. A few minutes later, after we’re dressed, I curl back up on Axe’s lap, and I tuck my head into his neck. And I sleep like that, distracted and satiated, for the rest of the flight.
—
