“You’re close again, eh?”
I shake my head. If I speak, he’ll know I’m lying.
“You like being powerless, don’t you? You want me to decide when you come, when you don’t. You want me to torment you like this.”
“Yes,” I whisper.
He lies on my back, keeping my hands pinned between us with his weight now. His ragged breaths puff through my hair. He never stops fucking me, never loses pace. “Come for me, love.”
I erupt from his words, his energy, his power. His cock, still thrusting against my G-spot at his rhythm. Pleasure knots and courses and boils through me. My scream is loud against the pillow, and I couldn’t stop it if I tried.
The moment I take a full breath again, he rolls over onto his back, with me still on his front. He reaches around, toying with my clit to spur another. “Again!”
I suffer another little death at his hands, igniting on his order. My world throbs and gushes, bliss taking over. He swells inside of me, and that triggers another orgasm that steals my breath, my thoughts. He groans beneath me, then rolls us onto our sides. He lifts my leg over his own, pumping into me from behind as he keeps playing with my clit.
His words are everything. “One more, love, give it to me.”
Electricity takes hold as my body goes rigid from it, hard and fast. Ecstasy is all I know as he slams into me, following me over the edge.
4
RONAN
I knewit was a bad idea before I said the words.
Not because I know anything of her past. I do not. She is, to me, simply a woman I met at the airport—sharp-tongued, wounded in a way she tries to disguise with humor, and far too young to be entangled with a man like me.
It’s a bad idea because I do not behave this way. Not normally.
I do not kiss strangers on planes. I do not allow chemistry to override discretion. Yet I cannot manage a single regret on the matter.
The aircraft hums steadily as we begin our descent into Boston. The cabin lights brighten gradually, pulling us back into ordinary life.
Sage sits beside me, dressed now, her posture relaxed but her eyes alert. She doesn’t seem embarrassed. Nor does she seem overly sentimental. If anything, she looks clear.
Clear unsettles me more than regret would.
“This is where we pretend we were very mature about all of this,” she says lightly.
“I am always mature,” I reply.
She smiles at that. “Sure you are.”
Her knee brushes mine as the plane shifts slightly. The contact is accidental, but neither of us moves away immediately. The air between us is no longer tentative.
That control is mine. It will remain mine. “You do realize,” I say evenly, “that this was ill-advised.”
“Probably. Still glad we did it.”
The honesty of it strikes me. There is no expectation in her tone. No attempt to secure more from me. I appreciate that more than she likely understands.
The wheels hit the runway with a solid thud. The spell of altitude dissolves quickly in bright light. I release her hand deliberately.
She notices. “So that’s it?”
“That’s it,” I confirm. I say it calmly, because calm is what I do best. “I hope that does not offend?—”
“Not at all.” She smiles, relief plain on her face. “You’re a great guy, but I literally just got dumped yesterday. I think it’s still yesterday—I haven’t figured out the time difference thing. Anyway, I couldn’t do the whole ‘let me get your number’ thing. I’m too raw from everything with him.”
