by Nora Flite
Yet as I sat there, ready to end the itch and scratch it deep, I thought about him.
Other skills.
That fucker. He'd soured this whole experience for me.
For us.
If I acted on my desires, right here, there was too much of a chance that Corbin would find out. I didn't care what he thought about me, but the idea that he would assume the worst of Ellie—shit, it rubbed me wrong.
“Pike?”
Standing suddenly, I turned away to hide my massive erection. It was close to ripping free and making the choice for me. “It's getting late. I need to go take care of some stuff if we're leaving in a few days.”
“Uh, right.” She stood, and I could tell she was struggling, too. There was a visible weakness in her stance; hands making fists, then releasing again. Ellie was as excited as I was. I could smell it in the air, the primal lust begging us both to stop dancing around the obvious.
For an instant, I almost gave up. One of my shoes moved her way, causing Ellie to breathe faster. Her chest swelled, the green in her eyes rich and wild. Redness filled her cheeks, but it wasn't from embarrassment.
Desire painted us both the same shade.
“Fuck it,” I hissed.
“Pike—”
My name died on her lips. Instead she gasped, thudding against the wall where I slammed her. In one motion I tore her shirt upwards, buttons snapping with my fury. Beneath, in the gold light of the ceiling bulbs, her bra glimmered like treasure to me.
Inside, I knew there were hidden jewels.
She returned my kiss, rougher than me; uncaring about the marks we'd both leave. Ellie was boiling with passion, and here I was, the man to let that pressure free.
Her hands curled in my hair, tugging me from her lips. “Wait.”
“No, I'm done waiting.” My tongue rolled over the roof of her mouth. She shivered under me, hips rocking against the bulge in my jeans.
Again, she tugged me away. “It's not about waiting. I'm not stopping this.” Reaching down, she peeled my shirt over my ribs. “I just—I want to see more of you.”
Her request made me laugh, but it didn't break the mood. I loved her honesty. “You're right, Miss Cutter. I forgot you didn't get to see this yesterday.”
Her eyes became slits, she breathed faster as she stared over my body. “I thought I was Ellie, now.”
“Ellie, Miss Cutter, Warden,” I teased, discarding my shirt onto her desk. “It doesn't matter what I call you. Right now, there's only one name I'll be hearing over and over.”
She couldn't look away from my stomach, transfixed by my ink. Ellie's hand was halfway up, hovering but not making contact. “What name is that?”
Taking her wrist, I slid her palm to my chest. Then, I forced those elegant fingers down to my furious erection. “Mine,” I whispered. “And you'll be screaming it over and over.”
Her lashes fluttered, a low groan slipping free. “Fucking hell, Pike.”
“That's a start,” I chuckled, grinding myself into her hand. The pressure made my eyes roll in my head. “Go on,” I demanded. “Slide inside my jeans, feel how hard you've gotten me.”
Ellie paused, nails digging into my belt.
“Don't stop there,” I whispered. Leaning forward, I rolled my hand up her sternum, grazing between her breasts. Her heart slammed through her skin into me. “You'll kill me if you stop. Just feel me, Ellie. Fuck, I need you to feel me.”
“I—it's just...”
Bending down, I nuzzled her cheek, then nipped her bottom lip. “What, you want to torture me? I thought this wasn't prison, hmn?”
Hissing through her teeth, she met my stare. “I've never given a handjob before.”
My eyebrows crawled up. “Wait, you're not...?”
“No! No, I'm not a virgin or anything,” she said, giggling nervously. Eyeballing my torso, she seemed lost in thought. When she spoke again, her tone was soft as satin. “I guess I went straight to—well, blowjobs. I could do that for you... they're better anyway, right?”
It took a lot to not shake my head in amazement. Unhooking my belt, I enjoyed the way she breathed in at the rattling noise. “I like a good BJ, sure, but there are benefits to a handjob. Let me show you.”
Cupping her lower back, I pulled her against me. Kissing along the side of her neck, thrilling at how she whimpered, I took her hand again. Leading her towards my zipper, I made it clear what I expected.
Ellie maneuvered the button open, then slid my jeans low. I felt her nails exploring, tugging the band of my boxers. Gently, she ran a fingertip down the front of my erection. The sensation made me even stiffer.
“Just grab me,” I purred into her ear. The tiny hairs on her temple rose sharply. “Hold tight, stroke me, imagine that thick cock sliding deep inside of you.”
Panting, she dipped her fingers past my boxers. For the first time, I enjoyed her warm palm as it circled my engorged length. Gingerly, she started to pump me. Rolling against her, I encouraged her with my thrusts.
Once she had the basic motion down, I tilted her chin to me. Our kiss was slow, matching the pace she was setting. I knew I couldn't be patient for long, but for now, I reveled in it.
My mouth tingled, and the rest of me followed suit. Sliding my hands down, my agile touch dispatched the button on her shorts. Ellie froze for a moment, squeezing my cock harder. In response I grunted, leaning my forehead on hers.
In one motion, I threaded my fingers into her shorts, gliding over her tights. Through the thin material, I discovered her soaked pussy. She wasn't wearing panties.
Smirking around our kiss, I said quietly, “Miss Cutter, how bold of you. Skydiving has turned you into a new person.”
She shut me up briefly by jerking my dick harder. “You don't know if I ever wore them around you. What if this isn't new?”
“Then,” I said, petting the nub of her swollen clit, “I like you even more.”
She lost it, slumping on the wall and letting her hand go slack on me. “Pike, my god, that's...”
“I know.” Dipping my tongue deep into her ear, I moved to tangle our lips. My hearing was muffled by the sound of my own blood thumping in my skull. After a moment, my brain begged me for air. But who needed oxygen when they had Ellie to fill their lungs?
The phone on her desk rang so loudly it stunned me. As if had been a lucid dream, her touch vanished from my rock-hard cock.
Ellie jumped free, torn between straightening her clothes or answering the phone. Wild-eyed, she gawked at me. “I—shit, I have to get this. It's Corbin.”
Of course it was.
Like I'd been slapped, the moment faded away. It couldn't vanish, not completely, but I rolled with it. The call was a reminder of what we'd been about to do. Being interrupted... maybe it was for the best.
You don't believe that for a second, I scolded myself.
Tucking my still firm dick away, I zipped my jeans up. “Answer it, it's fine. I should really go.”
“What?” She stared at me, one hand on the phone, ready to lift it. “Pike, wait, don't just leave. What about—I mean—”
“Rain check,” I said, pulling my shirt on. Strolling to the door with a mild smirk, I gave her one more glance. “We'll have plenty of time to catch up in Dubai. Say hi to Corbin for me.”
Knowing she was still watching, I opened the door and didn't look back. As the gap closed between us, the door settling into place, I caught her voice one final time. It was strained to the point of shattering.
“It's Ellie, how can I help you?”
And even though she wasn't talking to me... I had every intention to show her exactly how she could help me.
Next time, nothing was going to interrupt us.
I'd make sure of that.
- Chapter Nine -
Ellie
Settling into the airplane seat, I checked my phone. It was out of habit, at this point; a nervous tick brought on by the fact I was about to take a fifteen hour flight across the ocean
with a man who'd nearly fucked me in my own office.
Blushing, I glanced down the aisle, catching a glimpse of Pike. He was hovering near our entrance to first class, chatting with a flight attendant. I didn't know what he was doing, just that the woman had a polite smile as she listened.
When he started back my way, I opened a magazine, acting nonchalant. The cushion nearest the aisle squeaked as he dropped into it. “Fancy up here,” he said. “I've never flown first class before.”
Shutting the magazine, I stuffed it into the seat-back. “Until working for Maximal, I didn't fly much at all.”
“Oh yeah?” His tiny smile was blatantly curious. “More of a road trip person?”
“My mom was scared of flying.” A shadow fell over us, so I shut myself up.
The flight attendant bent close, her hair tied into a prim knot. On a small tray, she handed Pike a glass of something amber colored, as well as small bottle. “Your Angel's Envy, sir.”
He took both items, wearing a winning smile. “Thanks so much, doll.”
She beamed proudly, then wandered off to help the next person who was waving for her attention.
Squinting, I observed Pike as he took a deep swig of his drink. “What the heck is Angel's Envy?”
“It's bourbon.” He took another slow sip. “Expensive bourbon.”
“Nice not having to foot the bill, huh?” I asked, chuckling.
Downing the whole glass, he filled it again from the small bottle she'd handed over. “Isn't this what flying in style is all about?”
He looked so comfortable. It was easing my nerves. “I've probably used that line before, so sure. Enjoy the perks of Maximal, Mr. Style.”
Pike gave me a look. The edges of his eyes were strained. It threw me off, but he hid it behind another long swallow of bourbon. “You said your mom was scared of flying. Why?”
Fidgeting in the chair, I crossed my legs. “When I was still a baby, we were in a minor plane crash.” His eyes went wide; I waved at him quickly. “Nothing major. Just a little landing issue, no one was badly hurt. But it... well, it left a pretty big scar in her. I was too small to even remember it.”
But I did remember the aftermath. My mother had been a hard woman, strict and unbreakable. However, when it came to heights, she got a wild, feral look in her face that I'd never seen before.
“Guess her habits didn't carry over,” he said softly.
My attention went to him, eyebrows lifting up. “They did, though. I was incredibly terrified my first few times flying, and even now... it's a struggle.”
“I was thinking more about the other day.”
Flushing, I folded my hands in my lap. “You think I wasn't scared when I jumped out of that plane with you?”
Swirling his drink, he pursed his lips. “No. I knew you were scared. You still did it, though. That's my point. You managed to shake her issues off, even if she tried to infect you with them.”
Stunned, I felt my eyes drying out; I couldn't blink. “Wait, how did you know she tried to make me just as paranoid as she was?” The number of times my mother had warned me that planes were death traps couldn't be counted.
He shrugged lightly. “I think most parents do that. Sins of the father, etcetera. We learn from them, even if they don't mean to push their issues on us.”
My palms clutched tighter. What he was saying was true; I'd carried the ghosts of my mother's worries with me all my life. My determination to not let them affect who I was, or what I did, had been a constant challenge.
I wasn't entirely free of it. Part of me thought everyone felt the way I did, deep down. That we all just pretended not to be so scared. Who could be so calm when they had no control over their fate?
But, the first time I'd watched Pike dive towards the ground in that grainy video... I'd known what bravery was.
And I'd wanted it.
“Wise words,” I mused.
He made a throaty sound, finishing his bourbon. The timing was perfect; the intercom crackling as the captain announced we'd be taking off soon. A new flight attendant came by, gathering Pike's trash.
Clipping my seat belt, I willed the knots in my stomach away. After all, I'd jumped into the bare sky itself. What was a takeoff, now, in comparison?
“You know,” he said suddenly, not looking my way. “My mom was scared of heights, too.”
“What, really?”
Still not watching me, he stared down the aisle, seeing nothing. “Not for herself. For me and my dad. She didn't like what we did.”
I wanted to ask more—so much more. The roar of the engines, the hum of the compartment, ended the conversation. The whole plane jittered, rolling down the landing strip. There was a pause, that expectant moment before the whole thing would shoot off at rampaging speed, ripping us free of the asphalt.
Calm down. Calm down.
Pike squeezed my hand. A spasm went through me, attention shooting down to that warm touch. He'd linked his fingers over mine in my lap. It felt... good.
Too good.
I glanced at him, witnessed his calm blue irises. “It's okay,” he said firmly.
Just like when we fell together, a comet swimming towards the Earth, I believed him. I'd learned something that day, when he'd calmed me down with a simple hug; Pike was stability made real.
As long as I was with him...
Fear could never touch me again.
For the first time, as the plane carried us into the atmosphere, I didn't close my eyes and pray.
****
I yawned, stirring in my reclined seat. The chairs in first class were plush, the blankets thick and perfect when combined with the air conditioning.
Did I drift off? Rubbing my eyes, I stared around blearily. The cabin was dark—it had to be past midnight, according to my circadian rhythm.
Time zone changes always messed with me.
“Hey,” Pike whispered.
Rolling over, we came face to face. My heart flexed, and he enjoyed my surprise. Winking, he said, “You fell asleep. Guess you were tired.”
I stretched my arms over my head, yawning again. “That, or you were just super boring company.”
Mischief sparkled deep in the pits of his eyes. “Is that a challenge? Because I know a few ways to fix boredom, Miss Cutter.”
Snorting, I worked on fixing my bed-head. “Like what?”
“Like joining the Mile High Club.”
Snapping wide-eyed disbelief his way, I did a paranoid scan of the cabin. Most people were sleeping, as far as I could see. Good, no one heard him. “Pike, come on. We'd get caught and probably fined a bunch of money. That stuff only happens in movies.”
His laugh had a thickness to it that made my blood race. “Fair point. Then here, a safer idea.” Adjusting his blanket, he threw it over mine, inching closer. Beneath the material, I sensed his body heat. “You could always finish what you started in your office. No one would notice.”
Even though I blushed, my thighs squeezed together helplessly. He wanted a handjob? Pike was too blunt, but his forwardness drove hard spikes of desire so deep into my bones, I couldn't shake them free.
Swallowing loudly, I said, “Sorry cowboy, you're just going to have to leave your tray table in its upright position.”
He laughed hard, sending looks our way. I sank deeper in my blanket. “Now I'm a cowboy. I think our nicknames have gotten out of control.”
“You started it,” I mumbled, but I was grinning, too.
Something brushed my leg under the blankets. I turned into a statue, shaking my head slowly at Pike in warning. Pure wickedness came off of him in waves. “You may not be confident in your slyness, Ellie. But I am. Just don't let anyone hear your sweet moans.”
“Pike!” I hissed.
His fingers wandered further, knowing where to go without the gift of sight. I was wearing a comfortable cotton dress, and now, I regretted the access it gave him.
His hand was strong, gliding my hem up and tracing my hip. Brea
thing through my nose, I looked around again. To the rest of the world, we didn't exist. I didn't understand that. How could we be invisible, when I felt like my body was a pure ball of fire, ready to set the entire plane ablaze?
He found the edge of my panties, followed the curve over my leg and back again. Taking his time, his face didn't reflect the same turmoil I was enduring. He was calm, if deceptively so. The flecks of silver in his gaze were molten.
My pursuer was in no rush, his gentle probing transforming my paranoia into something far more delightful. Ripples of lust swam from my toes and beyond, speeding up my awareness.
The shapes he made over the front of my panties were varied. Circles first, then curls, until I thought he was spelling something—his name, or mine? The only thing I knew for sure—and with growing frustration—was that he was avoiding my pussy.
Pike would sway near it, occasionally outlining the indents of my inner thighs. Once or twice, he ran two fingers over my lower lips, making me cover my mouth as I cooed. But the bastard never went for my clit, not even as I started rocking my hips towards him.
“Stay still,” he warned in a deep voice. “If you move, people will know what we're doing.”
Chewing my lip, I glared at him. “Quit teasing me, Pike.”
“How am I teasing you?” He didn't ask it like it was a question. And it wasn't; we both knew he was aware of his actions. Not touching my clit was no accident.
When I said nothing, he just smirked wider.
Again, he pet over the cloth. It was saturated now, and his abrupt dip—low, between my legs—made it starkly clear. Whimpering, I closed my eyes, riding the brief spark of pleasure. The ache was painful, my existence swollen and tight.
Out of the blue, he rolled a thumb over my engorged clit.
“Ah,” I gasped, biting my tongue.
The way he breathed out, I knew he was torturing himself, too.
Good. Let him experience some of this damnation, I told myself.
Studying my face, he traced my cunt up and down. Fingers slid over the swell of my panties, then scooted the elastic aside to reach my bare skin. My slickness made it easy for him to penetrate deeply.