She leans back against me, breathing hard and fast.
“See,” I mumble into her ear, “I told you there was nothing to worry about.”
28
Chloe
My heart is still beating a fucking million miles an hour.
When that fucking plane bounced through the air like an out-of-control tennis ball, I thought we were going to crash for sure.
Images of scenes from Cast Away still flash through my mind.
“You okay?”
Aaron’s turning my face toward his, and I smile.
“Getting there.” I’m filled with fear and pleasure. Coming like that when you think your life’s about to end was fucking out of this world.
He chuckles and tucks my hair behind my ears.
“A drink?”
I shake my head. I’m still getting over the champagne and martini. Any more alcohol and I might fall asleep.
“I’d like to keep exploring,” I start and untangle myself from him, “and working to see if we can disprove the theory.”
Aaron’s furrowing his brow; clearly he’s not getting my drift.
“What theory?”
Free from his embrace, I bounce up and down in front of him.
“The one where we’re going to see if we can fuck till we’re stupid.”
I look around the obscene luxury.
The reclining bed seat is fine, but there are plenty of other places we could use to continue what we’ve started.
Before I get too far exploring, my eyes are drawn to one of the windows.
Below us, the ocean stretches as far as the eye can see.
“Wow,” I breathe and feel Aaron come up behind me.
“Amazing, isn’t it?”
He puts his hand on my back. At his touch, tiny electric shock waves pulse through me.
“Makes you seem so small and insignificant, don’t you think?”
“Yep, like a pimple on some giant’s ass.”
I laugh.
“So poetic.”
He shrugs.
“I don’t go much for that poetic crap.”
I furrow my brow.
“Really? I hadn’t noticed.”
I’m so mesmerized by the view I get onto my hands and knees. My face is pressed against the window.
Mixed emotions flood through me.
I recall Amelia Earhart, the first woman to fly solo over the Atlantic Ocean.
She disappeared trying to circumnavigate the world. When you see how vast the ocean is, it’s not surprising that no remains of her or her plane were ever found.
“Earth to Chloe,” I hear Aaron in my ear.
I turn to face him.
“Sorry.” I smile. “I was thinking about Amelia Earhart.”
His brow furrows.
“I don’t want to know.” He holds up his hand to stop my reply.
“Why not?” I grumble. “It might interest you.”
He shakes his head.
“I very much doubt it. Unless it involves sex and you, I’m not interested.”
I roll my eyes and move away from the window, or at least I try to, but Aaron’s got me trapped.
“Now,” he starts, and I feel his cock against my back. “Why don’t we see what else we can do to see if we can fuck ourselves stupid?”
I wrinkle my nose.
“It’s a fucking stupid expression,” I point out and lean into him.
My hands find his dick and start rubbing. I love the way it instantly responds to my touch. I can feel it grow and pulse; it gives me a feeling of absolute power.
“That may be so.” Aaron’s pushing hard up against me, and my tits are being squashed against the Perspex window of the plane.
It’s lucky no one can see me from the outside.
Briefly I wonder if passengers from a passing jumbo would be able to see me, but I dismiss the thought as soon I’ve had it.
The cold plastic feels strange against my skin.
“But that doesn’t mean we can’t see if it’s true or of it’s purely one of those things people say based on no fact whatsoever.”
I push my ass against his back and release his cock.
This gives me a bit of space.
His fingers roam all over me.
Not wanting to just give in to him, I push back even further, and when I unbalance him, I make my move. I scurry away on all fours.
“Come and catch me if you can.” I turn to see confusion over his face until he accepts the challenge.
By the time I’ve crawled to the other side of the plane, he’s grabbed my ankle.
He pulls, and I fall onto my front.
He keeps pulling me backward, and my naked flesh scrapes against the carpet, including my wet pussy. I hope I don’t leave any juices behind, and if I do, I hope the stain won’t be too obvious.
When my body’s level with his, he brings his hand up in the air before letting it slam onto my ass.
I can feel my cheek wobble where the flat of his hand collides with naked flesh.
I bite my bottom lip. I don’t want to cry out in pleasure or pain.
He repeats his action.
“I think running away from me like that deserves to be punished, don’t you agree?”
“Oh, yes please. Punish me.”
Whack. Whack. Whack.
My insides are burning with desire. It’s as if a bushfire is ripping through me.
As quickly as he starts the spanking, he stops.
He rolls me over.
“Promise you’ll obey from now on?”
I smile a wicked smile. I ain’t promising nothing.
For abundant caution, he sits on my lower body, backward. Then his intention becomes clear.
He lowers himself onto me and starts licking and sucking on my pussy. His teeth find my clit and nibble on it. His tongue massages and darts into me.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
This feels so fucking good.
A thick, heavy fog descends over my brain, and I can’t think straight.
It takes me a little while to realize his fucking awesome cock’s dangling in front of me, ready for the taking.
I waste no time and let my hands get to work. My mouth, meanwhile, hungrily swallows one of his balls.
My tongue sloshes them around in my mouth. It feels as if I’m trying to crack open a giant hazelnut. Well, a really huge, massive, oversized nut of some sort.
Fingers move up and down his shaft, as if playing the flute. I revel in feeling his cock pulse in pleasure.
I spit out his ball and take the other one.
Now my fingers wrap themselves around his dick and squeeze. Like a sponge, I massage his cock.
It feels so fucking awesome. I relish how it thickens when I release my grip and lengthens when I squeeze.
I finish with his balls and now take his cock into my mouth. Slowly, I let it move into me, making sure I don’t gag on it as it moves right down my throat.
His fucking cock pulses as I start to suck.
My own body is writhing in ecstasy as Aaron now finger fucks my pussy. His lips are sucking on my clit as he has at least two fingers pushed hard into me. He curls them over and pushes against my inside.
Fireworks erupt inside of me.
He’s a fucking expert at finger fucking me, that’s for sure. He’s discovered erotic parts in my body I didn’t even know I have.
As the fireworks move from my belly to brain, I try and focus on giving him a head job.
With each thrust into my mouth, I feel him get closer to unleashing his cum into me. I’m ready to swallow the whole fucking load.
I just hope he comes before me because once he tips me over the edge, I don’ think I’ll be able to keep going.
Faster and faster I suck on him until I can feel the first drop of precum on my tongue. This is my signal, and I now massage his balls.
Bingo.
I’ve pressed the right button. He shoots his massive load into my hungry mouth.
<
br /> I swallow and swallow until every last drop is gone.
Then it’s my turn ride the wave of pleasure. His fingers are pummeling hard and fast into me. My hips thrust toward his mouth, and when his lips suck extra hard on my clit, I feel an eruption of volcanic proportions.
Molten lava spreads through me, and hand grenades are exploding in my head.
My body’s convulsing with pleasure, and when he removes his fingers, I shudder.
Gently he gets off me and lies next to me.
“So,” he says as his fingers trace the outline of my tits. “Remember what day it is?”
I laugh and nod.
“How about my name?”
My fingers curl into a fist and I punch his arm.
“Okay, I get the message. You haven’t gone stupid.”
He sighs. “Maybe we need to experiment some more?”
I giggle.
“Or we could just agree it’s a stupid saying—one that is not based in any kind of truth at all.”
“Oh.” He purses his lips. “But where would the fun be in that? Surely the experiment is worth repeating?”
My head shakes. The man was incorrigible.
“I suppose so. We’ve got an entire weekend ahead of us.”
“Now that sounds more like it.” He rubs his hands together and grins like a little boy who just got his favorite toy.
29
Chloe
As a decently functioning adult with—I’ll be generous with myself here—an average grasp of reality, Keflavik International Airport is probably the closest thing I’ll ever get to a mythic North Pole wonderland where the air is rife with magic.
“Are you sure your crew flew us to the right airport? I thought we were going to Reykjavik,” I ask Aaron with a slight pout as we pass through the center of the empty terminal.
I’m being playful with him, I know where we are, but looking up at the stratospherically tall ceilings with different-colored lights flooding across steel beams in a rainbow-like pattern, I don’t even care if we are in the wrong place. It’s the right place to me.
“The limo will get us to the Reykjavik city center in half an hour tops.”
I look down from the ceiling slightly, taking in the vision of a splatter of Arctic sun streaming weakly through a massive set of windows behind Aaron, moving my eyes down just the perfect degree more to settle on Aaron’s own eyes.
He’s getting a kick out of watching me take in the terminal like I’ve never seen an airport before.
“I like this better than the small airport they have in Reykjavik,” he remarks. “That one’s not much to look at.”
In a sense, this is just an airport. I know it’s not the North Pole either. That’s still 1,800 miles away.
It is a wonderland, though, for sure. There are so few other people in the monumental terminal that I can hear the clear echo of our footsteps as Icelandic-language announcements play softly through some far-off speakers.
This is fucking grandeur.
I don’t even know what time it is here. I know what time we left New York, I could do the math, but I let my brain go blank about it so I can stay in this haze of dawn, dusk, or midday for the time being.
Naturally, there’s a limo at the curb the moment we step outside.
“You think of everything, don’t you?”
I watch Aaron smile, his face framed by the faint, otherworldly daylight in the sky behind him.
“You mean transportation? You could say I’m on top of things with that, yes. Remember I mentioned a limo a few minutes ago?”
Private planes, limos, I’m not used to it yet. I’m not complaining either. The chauffer opens the door for us to get in.
“Hearing the word and seeing a stretch…fuck it, let’s get going.”
Aaron’s smile grows into a laugh. Honestly, I’m just anxious to see the interior, which I can see right away is roomy as fuck.
It gets a tad lighter during the ride into town, but not by much. We seem to be going faster than what little other traffic I see. The moment I catch a tiny glimpse of something in the sky—something I’ve never seen before, something colorful and ethereal—I’m distracted by the limo slowing down rapidly.
It looks like we’re in central Reykjavik already, and pulling up in front of a building with slightly jagged postmodern architecture.
“The Hotel Gimsteinn,” I announce quietly, staring through the window and realizing that this odd, captivating building is where we’ll be staying.
“So the chauffeur does know where he’s going. I’ll chalk that up as a win.”
I look around my shoulder at Aaron, who’s also gawking a bit through the window.
“I know about this place. It looks much more orderly inside.”
“Wait till you see our suite.” Aaron’s done looking out the window and he’s moved onto looking at me.
“So that’s what you’re thinking about,” I counter with a seductive smile and a touch of mock indignation to keep things light.
“Maybe I am thinking about what you think I’m thinking about, or maybe not, but I’m talking about actually seeing the suite. I can’t wait to see your reaction when we walk in for the first time.”
I am totally in the dark. I don’t have even the tiniest fucking inkling about what Aaron’s talking about or what he has in store.
I try not to think about it as Aaron handles the check-in smoothly since they seem to know who he is here like they do everywhere. I don’t succeed; I can’t think about anything but what could possibly fucking be in that suite for me to see.
If Aaron wanted to leave in suspense, he succeeded handily.
On our way down the hall, Aaron can’t stop looking at me with anticipation, almost childlike in the way that there’s something he just can’t wait to show off.
“This better be good,” I tell him seriously.
My first glimpse into the suite reveals a nice-looking living room area, pretty big with modern furnishings, but that’s it.
I’m almost ready to let Aaron have it when I finally catch the view through the picture window.
I’ve seen photos of it like everyone else. No photo could’ve come close to preparing me.
I start taking slow, deliberate steps toward the window like I’m under a spell.
The earthly trappings of the hotel suite, the other buildings outside, even the snowy natural landscape in the distance—all of it pales against the grand, ghostly green curtains of radiance in the in the sky, streaking in simple curves all the way down the horizon.
And they’re dancing. A gradient of blue-and-violet layers twinkle in and out of view as the spectral green drapery shifts underneath.
I feel like I’m about to fucking cry.
“I know, right?”
I look away, overawed by the splendor of it, to see Aaron also watching the aurora. He’s also watching me watch the aurora.
“It’s really strong right now too,” he adds. “You can’t always see it like this from Reykjavik.”
As if he’s just heard his cue to enter, a hotel attendant strolls through the open door behind Aaron, wheeling a bar cart packed with all sorts of bottles, including champagne on ice.
Aaron and I go without saying a word for nearly twenty minutes. He pours a glass of champagne for me and one for himself, and we stand and watch the aurora until it fades into nothing.
I finish the last tiny sip in my champagne flute and turn away from the window to go get a refill.
“So what next?” I ask.
“What next for our time in Iceland?”
“No. What next in life? That was some kind of peak for me right there.”
Aaron deftly reaches for the champagne bottle and refills my glass as I hold it.
“We could try the hot tub,” he suggests.
“There’s a hot tub?”
Yes, there’s most definitely a hot tub. It’s one of the largest I’ve seen, and clearly visible from where I’m standing.
“Ah-hah, I see it,” I continue, “I’m definitely planning to give that some use, but I’m not ready to make that plunge quite yet. I want to save that for later.”
“Okay, my next suggestion would be to sit in front of the fireplace…”
“There’s a fireplace?”
There is indeed, and Aaron gets a beautifully raging blaze going as I settle onto the settee a few feet away.
After getting the fire going to his satisfaction, Aaron joins me on the settee. We’re not jumping right back into the passionate frenzy that dominated our flight here, not yet at least. At the start of this Icelandic day, and I can see the sun coming out clearly now, we’re enjoying the moment in a simple, quiet way in front of the fire.
After a few minutes of that, I do realize I need to call my sister, since I’m still at home as far as she knows, but I can make it quick.
Aaron stays silent and outwardly content as I dig through my purse, which is sitting on the settee arm next to me, and I retrieve my phone. I dial Cassie, and miraculously, her phone rings.
“Hello?” I’m the one who called Cassie, but it’s kind of weird to hear her voice in this foreign, fantastic setting.
“Holy shit, it worked.”
“What worked? You mean my phone in Iceland? Yeah, I know, international roaming. Glad you’re amazed.”
“Hey, my phone’s working in Iceland too.”
“Oh. Holy shit, indeed. You actually fucking came through.”
“Don’t act that shocked. You think I’m gonna let you enjoy Reykjavik while I just sit at home?”
“Um...wasn’t that your plan?”
“No! I’m here, aren’t I?”
Aaron barely looks over at me as I yell. His calm does not falter a bit.
“Whoa, hey, you’re here, Chloe. I will never doubt you again.”
“That’s all I wanted to hear. Anyway, I thought we could all go out to dinner tonight. The four of us. Aaron’s here.”
“Yeah, of course he is. Hmm, yeah, and of course we’ll all go out. Ethan’s in a meeting, but he should be out any time.”
Aaron’s eyes are on me, and I’m suddenly having trouble focusing on anything that Cassie says.
The Proposal Problem: A Billionaire Royal Hangover Romance Page 42