“You better end up with her after putting me through all this mental distress,” he says, and I ignore him. “The FAA doesn’t need to know anything other than she went into heat and that she was in the cockpit. I won’t tell them anything else.”
“Thank you,” I say to Brock as I rub the back of Shiloh’s neck.
I’m already going to lose my job and be fined for having her in here, if not worse. Jonah will pay the fine. I’ll fly private when I feel like it. I’m not really worried about my career. I like flying, but the bureaucratic bullshit of working for these massive airlines is crushing my soul. This has just been something to do to bide my time.
What I’m worried about is the fact that I haven’t had a moment to contact Jonah or Mack. In the grand scheme of things, pulling out my tablet and making contact isn’t my worst offense of the day.
But for a few more hours, I have Shiloh all to myself. Well, with Brock on the other side of a makeshift barrier.
“You can be good and wait, can’t you?” I ask her in a near whisper.
“No. I really can’t,” she replies, shifting on my lap. She adjusts herself so that she’s facing me, and I swallow thickly.
Brock’s here. He’s completely coherent and holding down the fort. But fuck. Am I really going to fuck this Omega mid flight in my captain’s chair?
Her hands glide down what used to be a crisply pressed white button up, and she grabs my belt. Her pupils are dilated and her scent is nearly choking me with the sweetness.
“You don’t need this job?” she reiterates with a tilt of her head.
“No.”
“Good, because I need your knot. Now.”
Her hands fumble with my buckle and Brock is having a laughing fit disguised with coughing.
“Shiloh, we should wait till you get to Heat Haven.”
Her hands pause on my buckle and her eyes water ever so slightly.
“You don’t want me?”
“Really doing a great job over there,” Brock says and I tune him out.
“We’re mid flight, Shiloh. I want to take care of you, but I think we should wait until we land.”
Tears fill her eyes and she nods. I brush some hair away from her face and feel how hot her skin is. She’s burning up. All the meds she took in the bathroom are wearing off. Time is not on our side. We’ve still got a little over two hours left on this flight.
There’s no way she won’t be in unbelievable pain and distress by then.
“For fuck’s sake. I already told you I wasn’t going to snitch. Please, for the love of God just give her your fucking knot to soothe her so I can focus. Fuck,” Brock complains.
Shiloh nods in agreement to his statement.
I grab her chin and she licks her plush pink lips, her sweet manipulative tears nowhere to be found.
“You’re going to be a good girl and take what I give you, do you understand? You’re going to sit that sweet pussy on my cock and knot and you’re not going anywhere for the rest of this flight.”
Her pupils are so dilated I can barely see the deep brown of her eyes.
“Do you agree? I’m going to take care of you now and at Heat Haven. That’s what you want?”
“That’s what I want,” she says, wasting no time in unbuckling my belt and freeing my aching cock. I’m so hard it nearly hurts as precome drips down the tip.
She looks down at the weeping head and licks her lips, before glancing at her own pants with a grimace.
“Do you have extra clothes in your carry-on?”
“I think so,” she says, her hand circling my length and stroking.
