He punched in an address on the map and we took off. Then he made a call. When it was answered, he said, “Are you still here?”
“Yes,” came through the speakerphone. “I’m not sure how much longer I can stay. I’ll be grounded if we don’t leave soon.”
“We’re on our way. Twenty minutes tops.”
“Good, I’ll prep the plane.”
The roads were eerily empty. Striker did follow most of the traffic signals, though he only slowed when we came to red lights. There was no one. I was certain the island had been evacuated. Despite his speed, we didn’t arrive at the small airport for eighteen minutes.
We parked somewhere on the side of the road and broke every TSA rule as we ran from the car straight to the runway. The only lights on, besides the planes, were in the tower. The gales worked against us as we made our way to the plane’s stairs.
“Hurry,” Grant yelled over the shrieking wind.
Going up the stairs seemed as perilous as being on the ocean.
“We have about a minute to get up in the air.” He quickly shut the door behind us. “Strap in. It’s going to get bumpy.”
Grant dashed into the cockpit and didn’t close the door. No one had been there to move the stairs, but he backed up the plane as I heard him talking into the radio. This had to be illegal, but I assumed everyone wanted to get us clear of the hurricane.
“If you don’t clear me, I’ll leave anyway,” Grant said.
Striker reached a hand across the aisle and I took it.
“You are cleared to go,” came through the crackling radio.
Grant looked over his shoulder. “Hang on.”
Then we were racing forward. I had no idea how he could do it. The window was pelted with rain. I couldn’t see, so how could he?
Striker had a way of reading my mind. “There are instruments on the panel that let him know where we are. It’s fine.”
I nodded and squeezed his hand. The plane shook and my heart dropped into my stomach. We’d survived the belly of the hurricane in the water. Now we had to survive it up in the air. That would be some crap to die now.
When we rose high enough that the air was calmer than our shaky takeover, I let go of my death grip on Striker’s hand.
“You guys okay back there?”
Striker looked at me and I gave him a half smile. “We’re fine,” Striker said.
“Sorry I don’t have a flight attendant. Hazard pay wasn’t an option.” Grant turned and flashed us a toothy grin.
“I like him,” I said.
“Hopefully not too much,” Striker said back.
“I guess you’ll have to work hard so I don’t stray.” His smile disappeared and I replayed my words. I’d been joking. “I was only teasing.”
His silent agreement with the tip of his head was sharp and brief.
I unbuckled my seat belt even though Grant hadn’t given the okay and planted myself in Striker’s lap. “I’ve only been in a few relationships, but I don’t cheat. My parents are great examples of a long-term relationship. If I want out, I’ll tell you first, not fuck someone else.”
“I’ve only ever been in relationships with submissives, where the rules are clear.”
“Then let me clear this up for you. No cheating. We agree if we want to be with someone else, we will exit our relationship first. I need trust,” I said.
“I do too.”
“Then we’re in agreement.”
He kissed me hard. Before I knew it, we were out of his seat and heading through the door at the back of the plane. There had been a sofa there before. Now a bed was in its place.
“Different plane?” I asked as he nibbled down my neck.
“It’s a foldout,” he said, unzipping the wetsuit I still wore. He peeled it off until it was a sopping mess on the floor.
“Mile high club?” I asked.
“I’m about to become a member. You?”
“Me too.”
After that, all talking ceased. Our adrenaline needed an outlet, and as he laid me on the bed and his big body covered mine, I thought this had to be the best fucking way.
I pushed his shorts down enough for him to kick them off. Then he was sliding home. When the plane shook, I didn’t know if it was from the amazing pounding he was giving me or turbulence. I really didn’t care.
He cupped my ass and lifted it off the bed. The new angle meant he went ultra-deep, and the pleasure from it all had me dizzy. I spun in time, not wanting it to end. When we came, shockwaves raced through my body.
I curled myself around him and gently bit his lip. “Thanks for that.”
His mouth tilted up on one side and damn if I couldn’t get enough of staring at this man.
“You look tired. You should sleep,” I said.
Those eyes of his dimmed. “I don’t sleep in beds.”
“Why?” I asked, though the answer came to me as the word left my mouth. I thought back to all the times I’d caught him sleeping, and it had never been in a bed. That and the story he’d told me were the answer. “I’m here with you.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
He meant if he had a nightmare and took me as the monsters that chased him in his dreams.
“You’ve never hurt me.” He looked as though he didn’t believe me, so I said, “It’s true. I think on some level, you’ll know it’s me. I’ll be fine.” I ran a hand to the back of his head so I could pull him in for a kiss. “Trust me. Trust us.”
The simple touch of his hand sliding down my back to draw me closer touched me in ways I’d never thought possible.
“You sleep as well.”
He thought he would slip away, so I tangled my legs with his and held him close. With my head on his chest, I heard his heart beating. As I drifted into dreamland, I felt him move. I didn’t let go, clinging for dear life. I couldn’t save the boy, but damn if I wouldn’t try to save the man.
Fifteen
Connor
Allowing her to believe I would stay wasn’t a lie—or was it? I’d promised her and myself no lies, even by omission. But how could I risk falling asleep and attacking her as I fought off nightmares? When her breathing slowed, I made an attempt to disengage myself from her hold. I smiled when she only burrowed deeper into my chest.
“A chuisle mo chroí,” I whispered.
“Hmm,” she said sleepily.
I repeated it slowly, sounding out the Irish Gaelic phrase—ah coo-shil mu cree.
She murmured in her sleep. Knowing her, she was trying to ask me what it meant. I’d heard my mother say it once. I thought she’d said it to my father. When I asked her what it meant, she told me it meant my pulse, my heart, but it also meant you’re my everything. It fit how I felt about Lizzy, more than the word love, which I had yet to define.
I closed my eyes for a second, and when I opened them, fear had me in its clutches much the same way I held Lizzy by her shoulders. Though I feared I might have shaken her in my sleep, she was speaking to me, low and soft.
“I’m here,” she repeated. “It’s me.”
I let go as fast as if I’d burned myself. “Sorry.”
“No,” she demanded. “It’s fine. I’m fine. You’re here with me. We’re fine.”
Though I appreciated her words of encouragement, I felt sick. I didn’t want the past to taint my present with her. I sat up and rested my arms on my knees and my face in my hands, trying to scrub away the dream.
She moved to sit next to me and rubbed circles on my back with her palm.
Her comfort was too much. I stood. “This isn’t going to work.”
“What?”
I couldn’t look back at her for fear I’d give in to desire. “I’ll get your bag so you can get dressed.”
“Striker, wait?”
I didn’t. I rushed out as though I walked over hot coals. When I reached her bag, I waited a second as the phrase Don’t let fear destroy your life played in my head. The problem was. I had no choice. I was too
fucked up. Being a dominant worked for me. I set the rules so I could sate my baser needs and leave. The word boyfriend or husband could never define me. It would mean I had to stay, and that wasn’t an option.
When I brought the bag back, she’d wrapped herself in a sheet and held out a hand.
“Thank you, Connor,” she said with a frosty bite.
I nodded and left. I sat in my chair and closed my eyes. I kept them that way when I heard her return. She made no attempt to speak to me, though I couldn’t blame her. It was my fault for agreeing to try something I knew wasn’t possible. She thought I could always be gentle. I knew differently. I knew what my hands were capable of.
Grant came out of the cockpit. “I would have offered sooner, but you guys were in the back. There’s food and snacks in the cabinets and drinks below that. We should begin our descent in about an hour.”
“Thanks,” Lizzy said. The warmth in that one word made me crazy, but she’d be better off with him. Grant seemed like the kind of guy who could be the boyfriend she wanted.
Safe in a chair, I allowed myself to fall back asleep. Hunger could wait.
“Mr. Black?”
I woke to see Grant standing above me.
“We’ve arrived,” he said, and I nodded. A glance over revealed Lizzy was gone. “Don’t worry, she went back to change. The weather here is in the sixties.”
As I got to my feet, she emerged from the other compartment. She was in the black shapeless outfit she’d changed into in the tunnel from New York on our way to a private airport in New Jersey. We would need to buy more clothes.
Her eyes bounced off me and I tried not to grimace. I hadn’t meant to hurt her. In the end, this was best. She didn’t realize the favor I was doing for her.
“Well, it was nice having you on board, Mr. and Mrs. Black. I hope you’ll use our services again.”
“Do you have a card?” Lizzy asked. “You know, in case I want to fly alone.”
Grant looked at me. When I said nothing, he said, “Sure. Let me get one.”
I faced her. “Lizzy.”
“Elizabeth to you. Let’s keep it professional, Connor.”
“You don’t understand,” I said.
“No, I don’t. Either you’re being incredibly stupid while trying to be heroic or this was a game to you the entire time.”
“It’s not like that.”
“Then what is it like?” she sneered.
“This is for the best.”
“For who? You?”
“You,” I said.
“Oh, when did you become the keeper of my decisions? I don’t remember signing up to be your submissive.” Grant came back and Lizzy walked forward. She took his card. “Oh, Grant King. I hope you’re better than the other ones I know.”
“Excuse me?” Grant asked, sounding confused.
“Nothing. Will you be around the next few days?” she asked.
“I’ll be here at least twenty-four hours. Rules require a certain amount of downtime after a long-haul flight.”
“I’ll cover your hotel,” I said.
He grinned. “Don’t worry. It’s on the bill.”
“Get yourself an upgrade. He can afford it,” she said before exiting the open plane door.
“Yeah, an upgrade is good,” I said. “You saved our asses.”
He nodded. I wanted to ask more, but I feared Lizzy might take off like her friend Bailey did when Kalen brought her overseas. At the bottom of the stairs, a customs agent was asking Lizzy questions.
“You don’t know where you’re going?” he asked in an Irish lit.
I jumped in and gave him the address of the flat where Bailey had stayed while she was here. With everything I hadn’t yet told Lizzy, the place she’d chosen belonged to me. “That’s where we’ll be.”
Lizzy gave me a look that could cut diamonds.
The agent looked down, and I couldn’t tell what he thought. He handed back her passport and I gave him mine. Shortly after, we were on our way. Griffin had ordered us a car, so we drove from the small private airport for fifteen or so miles to my flat.
When we walked through the door, I watched as Lizzy dragged her hand along the furniture, heading toward the sliding glass doors that led to the little balcony and the incredible view. She stepped out and the sounds of waves crashing into the beach filled the room, covering the deafening silence between us.
There was so much to say. We might not be right for each other, but I couldn’t seem to completely let go. I wanted to go to her, touch her, consume her, but I’d drawn a line in the sand. So instead I checked out the kitchen. Griffin had done what I expected. The cabinets were stocked, and the refrigerator was filled. We wouldn't have to leave for days.
Unlike the other apartments I owned, this flat was fairly small. The term cozy came to mind. I grabbed a Guinness and took a seat, waiting for her to come back in.
When she did, she left the sliding door open. Her eyes held mine, a question in them, before she spoke. “How long are we gonna be here?”
Something I’d been considering myself. “Long enough to figure out who's after who.”
In her eyes, I read contempt. “I'm telling you now I'm giving it a day, maybe two, and then I'm leaving.”
“Lizzie—”
She didn't give me time to finish. “I'm not staying here with you any longer than necessary.”
I took a long drink of my beer and thought about what to say next because my cock was a loyal prick when it came to her. “You stay, and I'll leave.”
“And where would you go, not that I should care?”
“I'm not the one who needs protecting. You are.”
She folded her arms. “Tell me something, is the reason why you ended us the fact that I'm not a submissive?”
I didn't answer, unwilling to lie to her.
“So it is?” she asked.
It was more than that, and I couldn’t immediately put my feelings to words.
“Explain it to me,” she demanded.
“What?”
“What is it like to be your submissive?”
I stared at her, dumbfounded because I'd never really had to explain that before. When I got into a new D/s relationship, we would talk about each other’s expectations, but I’d never had to explain the true role of a submissive. And I wasn't sure I could—because I wasn't one.
“I don't think I can,” I said.
“Why can't you? You don't know what you look for in a submissive?”
“Yes. When I form a new relationship, we negotiate our terms. But I don't know what it's like to be submissive.”
She didn't back down. “Just assume that I'm agreeable to everything you expect from your submissive.”
I didn’t think she'd be dismissive of the lifestyle, but at the same time, I wasn't sure she would fully understand. Again, I said nothing.
“You owe me that much. I deserve to know,” she demanded.
She was right. If I was leaving her because of that, I owed her an explanation. “Fine.”
“No. I want you to show me,” she said.
“Do you want to top or bottom?” She blinked and I explained. “A submissive would never demand anything. Ask, yes, but never in the way you’re doing unless she wished to be punished.”
“Okay,” she said, calmer now. “I want to understand how to be your submissive. Can you please show me?”
“Are you ready to submit?”
When she nodded, I put down my beer and got to my feet. I stalked over to her, stood right in her face, and commanded her to kneel. Just as I suspected, her chin went up. I tilted my head in question. Only then did she get to her knees. Her eyes were full of fire the entire time.
“What next?” she asked.
“I don’t think you’re ready. There’s defiance in your eyes.”
“Sorry,” she said as she lowered her eyes.
“Good girl. First rule, don't speak unless spoken to.”
“But you just—”
But it was as if a switch had flipped in my head. My emotions were gone. All the reasons why people called me Mr. Black came into play. “This is normally the point of punishment. But I’ll give you a pass considering we haven’t discussed this. But if you really want to play, follow the rules.”
Yet even my alter ego almost let a smile break through when she compressed her lips into a flat line, unhappy about fully submitting to me.
I caressed a hand down her head to cup her cheek. “My preference is if you are expecting me, your hair should be pulled back.”
Her mouth opened, but she quickly closed it.
“For this time only, you can raise your hand if you want to speak.”
Reluctantly, she lifted a hand. She probably thought this exercise was childish, but in truth, it was a quick and dirty way for her to completely understand what I wanted and how much control I demanded.
“You may speak.”
“Why do you like the hair back? Is that a D/s thing?”
I liked that she used the right terms. “It’s a me thing. Every dominant has their own rules. This is mine. Having your hair back makes it easier to grab hold of. It’s also very sexy to watch when I pull it free.”
She nodded, and I went on. I had to give context for how a D/s relationship worked for me.
“The most important things you need to understand are the four pillars of a D/s relationship. They are respect, communication, honesty, and trust. If you don’t have all those things, this type of relationship will never work. Also, unlike a Master/slave relationship, D/s isn’t usually a twenty-four-seven lifestyle, though it can be. I’ve never lived with my submissive. Having that boundary helps defines play time. That’s not to say how others handle their relationships.”
She lifted her hand, and I nodded. “Would you ever marry a submissive?”
“I’ve never thought about that before. Currently, I doubt my wife would agree to polygamy.”
She bit her lip and held in a smile. Knowing her, she had a hundred and one snarky comments to make and couldn’t. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it because her smart mouth was one of the things I found so attractive about her.
I moved forward. “When I want to play, my submissive should be ready. When I arrive, she will be on her knees with her back to the door.” Her hand came up, but this time I didn’t give her what she wanted. “There should not be a defiant bone in her body. Her pose should be looking forward or down, but never up. She also won’t speak. If I wanted dinner or anything else, that would be specified before my arrival.”
Kingdom Fall: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance (Kingdom Come Book 2) Page 9