Empire

by Rachel Van Dyken

  “Please prepare for takeoff,” the captain said over the speaker.

  “Damn it.” Sergio pulled away from me, eyes wild. “We should…” He pointed at the chairs.

  I hadn’t even noticed how nice the inside of the plane was, I was too busy noticing how sexy he was, well that, and having a nervous breakdown.

  Cream-colored leather captain chairs and couches were decorated sparsely around the main cabin. A small kitchen and mini bar with a flat screen TV was on the opposite side, and a door that I imagined led to either the bathroom or a bedroom was at the far end.

  “I won’t pressure you.” Sergio kissed my mouth again. “Tonight.”

  “What about tomorrow? Will you pressure me then?” I just had to ask.

  “No.” He grinned smugly. “I don’t think I‘ll have to.”

  “There you go with that arrogance again.”

  “I’m cocky.” He thrust against me, then chuckled darkly against my neck. “What can I say?”

  The plane started picking up speed, so I hurried off him, adjusted my dress as best I could, and buckled up in one of the seats nearest him.

  Once we were airborne, Sergio took off his seatbelt and walked over to me, he leaned over, his mouth hovering near my ear as he whispered, “Don’t move.”

  And sleep, that sometimes shuts up sorrow’s eye, Steal me awhile from my own company. –A Midsummer Night’s Dream

  Sergio

  I WAS BEING cruel.

  Well, not cruel.

  But using her fear against her.

  Chest heaving with each breath she took, Val froze, her entire body going rigid as I stood in front of her, bent over and slowly unbuckled her seat belt.

  I kissed her right cheek, then her left, my lips hovering over her mouth. Her innocent kisses had become addictive in the worst way.

  I’d forgotten.

  It was that simple.

  I’d been so lost in my own sadness and mourning that I’d ignored every single carnal thought — thinking it almost a betrayal against her memory.

  But each kiss with Val brought me closer and closer to the edge until, finally, I took the leap, only to realize it wasn’t guilt I was met with.

  But lust. Need. Desire.

  I remembered that I liked sex — hell, I loved it.

  I wanted it, I could taste it, taste her arousal in the air every time my tongue touched her lips and her innocent little hands reached for my body.

  I was hard before I had even touched her.

  A virgin.

  A girl who hadn’t even been kissed.

  Which meant I couldn’t just slam her against the wall and toss up her skirt, or tell her to bend over and take me.

  Damn, just imagining all the different positions had me wound up all over again.

  I needed to lock her in the bedroom so I didn’t strip her bare and sink myself into her inch by inch.

  “Come on.” I lifted her into my arms and carried her back into the bedroom. She wasn’t as light as Andi had been.

  More muscular.

  More curves.

  And for the first time in a while, it didn’t feel like I was making a comparison, where Val fell short and Andi won.

  It was more of an observation. She was heavier.

  And I liked it.

  Her lips were fuller.

  And they tasted different.

  But they were wicked — tempting.

  And when she kissed me, my body buzzed with awareness, my tongue nearly going numb with adrenaline as I felt my blood surge.

  I sat her down gently on the bed and crossed my arms. “Why don’t you change into the clothes we bought since yours are packed. You can take a nap.” Val was staring at me. And for the first time since I’d met her, I couldn’t for the life of me read her expression. So I kept talking, my voice getting louder as if to quiet my thoughts, the dangerous thoughts that pointed out how sexy she was sitting on the bed, and how her right thigh was exposed all the way up to her hip crease.

  “And.” I coughed and turned around in a semi-circle, trying my damndest to find the light. “Here’s the light switch.”

  Val’s eyebrows rose.

  “For…” Another awkward cough. What the hell? “Turning… the lights off.”

  “That is what switches tend to do,” Val said sweetly. “Turn off things.”

  I swallowed, my body completely on board with the whole turn off turn on scenario. “So…” I found my voice, thank God. “Maybe sleep off all the trauma.”

  “Okay,” Val agreed quickly and stood. “But first can you help me with my dress?”

  “What was that?” I asked hoarsely, my hands shaking at my sides.

  She turned her back to me. “My dress, the back few buttons are impossible to reach. It’s a bodice after all, and I don’t want to rip the rest of it from the front.”

  Was she sure about that? Because I was pretty sure I could get on board with said ripping. Instead, I moved toward her and quickly undid the twelve torturous buttons, my fingers trembled as I found the zipper and slid it down the rest of the way.

  The sound was more erotic than it should be.

  The rustling of her dress as it fell to her feet.

  My heavy breathing as I placed my hands on her shoulders.

  Only to look up and realize.

  She literally had no bra on.

  At all.

  But she did have on a white lacy thong, nestled between the sexiest ass cheeks I’d ever seen in my entire life.

  No comparison necessary.

  Just simple truth.

  Her ass was more than nice.

  Staring at it made me dizzy and jealous at the same time, that the simple scrap of fabric was going to get more action than me.

  I slid my hands down her smooth arms then took a step back. “Done.”

  She turned, hands on hips. “Are you?”

  “Hell.”

  “Sergio?”

  “Don’t tempt a sinner, sweetheart.”

  “Funny, I always thought you were more saint.” She was like a goddess before me, all curves and smooth skin. My eyes had trouble focusing on one general thing. Funny, how before it had been my goal to focus on just legs, or just her hips, or just her eyes, hell even her ears.

  And now, it was laughable. Completely ridiculous how blind I’d been, how I hadn’t seen it sooner.

  How gorgeous she was.

  Because what made Val… Val… what made her beautiful — had everything to do with all of those features. By themselves, they were perfection, they painted a picture of such deep-rooted beauty that, had I looked at her, truly seen her the first day I met her.

  I would have been screwed.

  And most likely jumped off a building to keep myself from feeling — from taking — from following through.

  “I don’t know how to do this,” she confessed in a soft voice. “Your move, Sergio.”

  I wasn’t worthy of that type of trust.

  “Are you sure?”

  “No.”

  Her answer surprised me. “You’re not sure, and yet you’re standing in front of me topless?”

  “I don’t think a virgin is ever sure. That would be lying. You want truth in this marriage? You promised me your body.” She took a step forward. “Now give it to me.”

  Her hands shook, it was barely noticeable. My girl was being brave. Hell, she could cry over gunfights all day long — but bravery in the bedroom? It was all I needed.

  And something I never even knew I was desperate for.

  Permission to be with her.

  Minus the guilt of withholding the best parts of me.

  Two steps and my hands connected with her lush body, pulling her against me, her breasts pressed against my chest, teasing, taunting.

  I moved my hands to cup them both. Damn it, she might be young, but she was all woman.

  The power she had over me was humbling and terrifying all at once. Our mouths met in a frenzied kiss. My hands dug into her h
air while she gripped my ass.

  Where the hell did virgins already know how to please a man before he’s even inside her?

  Her nails dug into my slacks.

  With a curse I pulled back and jerked my shirt over my head tossing it to the side. The plane hit a patch of turbulence sending her into my arms. I fell onto my back pulling her with me, just as we hit another bump.

  The seatbelt light flicked on in the bedroom.

  “What do you say?” I grinned. “Live dangerously?”

  “Oh, I’ve got that covered.” Val smirked. “I married the mob.”

  “Yeah, you did.” I burst out laughing.

  In bed.

  With my new wife.

  Crazy.

  Impossible.

  But there it was.

  She licked her lips then trailed a finger down the middle of my chest. “I want to…” She looked lower. “Please you.”

  “I want that…” I grabbed both of her hands. “Later. But right now, let’s make this more about us than about me.”

  Her eyes widened.

  Probably like mine did.

  My admission scared me.

  Because I was no longer thinking in the singular — but as a team.

  With a new partner.

  One I’d never asked for.

  One who’d been forced upon me.

  Again.

  Her eyes searched mine as if to say, “What now?”

  I tugged her head down, our mouths meeting somewhere in the middle as I tasted her over and over again, then hooked my foot around her legs, flipping her onto her back. The plane bounced, causing her to jerk up toward me.

  I was going to use the turbulence in my favor.

  With a sly smirk, I kicked off my pants then crawled slowly up her body, leaving no patch of skin without attention from either my lips or my tongue.

  Her eyes closed, and opened, closed again. “I feel…”

  “Everything,” I said for her. “I want you to feel everything.”

  My heart is true as steel. –A Midsummer Night’s Dream

  Valentina

  STEAL HIS BODY — his heart will follow.

  The note on my wedding day, the one that came with the dress, had very specific instructions. Steal his body, his heart will follow. Along with the dress and my note was the one for Sergio.

  I didn’t know what it meant. What any of it meant.

  And I’d been too traumatized to think about it until the kiss.

  Would I have been as brave without the encouragement? Probably not. But something about the way he was mumbling about turning the lights on and off was cute, like part of his alpha attitude had somehow taken a detour and revealed a nervousness and vulnerability I’d never seen in him before.

  It set me at ease.

  And had me wondering — did he want me as much as I wanted him?

  Worst case scenario, he rejects me and slams the door. Been there, done that, only this time it would suck worse because I’d be half-naked.

  The words from the note still haunted me.

  Steal his body — his heart will follow.

  So I did the only thing I knew how — after all, it worked with killers right? Flashing boob? That’s how we’d survived earlier.

  I figured if it worked on those killers.

  It would work on my husband.

  And it did.

  Too well.

  Sergio’s mouth was so wet and hot that I had trouble not squirming beneath him each time his sizzling lips met my skin.

  I grabbed a fistful of his hair as he lowered his mouth to my thigh, so dangerously close to kissing me in a place I wasn’t sure I was ready for.

  My body tensed with nervousness and maybe a bit of dread — it was the unknown, and everything felt good, but it was new. And scary.

  He pulled back abruptly, his expression one of concentration. “Get up.”

  “No!” I shook my head. “I’ll do better? See? Not tense!” I tried relaxing as much as I could, while his lips twitched with a smile. “Are you laughing at me?”

  “On the inside,” he said in a serious voice. “Does that make it better?”

  I pouted. “No.”

  Sergio tugged me up to a sitting position then pulled me to my feet, taking my place at the foot of the bed. He still had boxer briefs on, but they hid nothing. If I was intimidated before. I was freaking the hell out now.

  “Sit here.” He pulled my body down so I was facing him, my legs straddling him like before. The plane jolted, my body slammed against his, the friction, the feel of our bodies was hot. And good. So good, that if I just moved a little more, a little faster.

  “Ride me,” he whispered in my ear. “Hard.”

  Was that what I was doing?

  “And get out of your damn head.” His mouth met mine in a long, languid kiss. I was dizzy with the sensation of him pressed against me, along with his tongue in my mouth.

  He deepened the kiss, moaning as I moved against him more.

  The turbulence hit again. I fell against him harder.

  “Fuck.” He breathed against my neck. “Just like that, let your body take over…”

  “But—”

  He gripped my hips, his teeth nibbling on my neck between kisses as he thrust me against him. The turbulence, or maybe the universe, agreed because each time we hit a bump it was like our bodies fought to join one another.

  Sensations built up within me, impossible to stop the need to move faster, harder against him.

  “That’s it,” he urged, his voice hoarse. “Let go, sweetheart.”

  The plane jolted.

  And so did I as something broke around me, maybe it was my body, my heart, a mixture of both. It felt — too good to be true.

  Without giving me any time to think about what just happened, Sergio picked me up by the butt and tossed me onto the bed, kicking off his black boxer briefs, and then very slowly tugging my thong down my legs.

  This was happening.

  The sensations were gone.

  Replaced with a bit of trepidation as a man who I’d seen snap other men in half, hovered his powerful godlike body over me.

  He was both beast and prince.

  The lines of his body were breathtaking. He wore scars of his battles on his perfect skin, his strong jaw clenched as he lowered his body, closer, and closer, until finally we were skin to skin.

  I let out a gasp as he slowly teased my entrance. “You’re ready for me….”

  “How do you know?” Pressure built inside of me again, an intense need for something I didn’t know how to vocalize.

  “Trust me.” His lips grazed my ear, and then he was kissing me again. This kiss was different, almost violent in nature, so easy to get caught up in, all consuming. Our breathing was one. And then he sank into me.

  Completely.

  I gasped and then let out a pathetic whimper.

  He covered my mouth with his then pulled back. “I’m sorry, it’s never easy the first time.”

  “That’s it?” I frowned, slightly disappointed.

  He grinned as his body moved in and out, building up a slow cadence, allowing me to get used to the fullness. “Hell, no.”

  I nodded.

  Once.

  Twice.

  He shifted so he could reach between our bodies. Everything about his body was heavy, massive, sweaty, as his calloused palm pressed firmly against my core, the aching sensation intensified as he thrust into me again and again.

  My mouth fell open with a moan as he kissed the side of my neck, and whispered, “Open your eyes.”

  “Don’t want to.”

  “You do.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Watch me fuck you.”

  Maybe I was scandalized, or shocked, or a mixture of both, but I opened my eyes and what I saw wasn’t what he described.

  He thought he was.

  He wanted it to be simple.

  But there was nothing but tenderness as he slowed his pa
ce and lengthened each thrust so deep I thought I was going to combust.

  “Yes,” I whimpered clawing at his back. “Please.”

  “Please what?”

  “Please…” I tugged his mouth down to mine and kissed it tenderly changing the way I clung to him, embracing him, showing him with my body that this was more — we were more than what he was making it. “Make love to me, Sergio. Make me forget everything but us.”

  A pained expression crossed his features as he thrust one last time, his body pressing mine into the bed as his mouth found mine in a punishing kiss.

  Something shifted in that moment between us when I cried out and he collapsed against me.

  Something epic.

  But I didn’t have time to figure it out, because as soon as he collapsed against me, jerked away, scooped his clothes from the floor and stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

  For never anything can be amiss, when simpleness and duty tender it. –A Midsummer Night’s Dream

  Sergio

  ANGER.

  Always attacks in two different ways.

  Either it’s a slow burn, a swirling bitter madness pumping into your veins until you feel like you’re going to explode.

  Or it’s sudden.

  Like getting shot in the chest with acid, but being paralyzed, unable to move, and in that moment, you like the feeling, you accept it.

  You deserve it.

  Madness.

  Anger.

  Uncontrollable anger.

  For the first time in my life.

  Both happened simultaneously as I threw my clothes against the wall. Not enough. It wasn’t enough.

  It still hurt.

  The anger still pumped.

  I slammed my hands against the bar and shoved all the crystal glassware off. It flew through the air and hit my bare feet then spread around the floor of the plane.

  Chest heaving, I punched the mahogany bar with my right fist over and over and over again.

  “Sergio.” Val’s voice was calm. Why the hell was she calm.

  “Leave!” I yelled without turning around, not trusting my own violence, my inability to turn on her. “NOW!”

  A quiet “No,” was whispered.

  And then her arms wrapped around my waist.