by Ava Claire
I expected him to gesture at the sleeping cabin, but he didn't say a word. Gears turned and I wondered if keeping it together, keeping my hands off him, off myself was so hard for me, how hard was it for him? Jacob was a man used to being in control but I could see that he was fighting to keep his cool.
The metallic clink of the rings being slid to the side and the curtain being parted cut through our staring contest.
The worry I had was being realized.
The flight attendant was in the main cabin.
"Can I--" The flight attendant's gasp rippled through the cabin and my chest tightened.
I glanced at her and saw the sheer white terror of her complexion. Not disgust, not judgment like I'd expected. Fear.
I looked back at Jacob, who studied me intently. He probably expected me to futilely grip my clothing and clasp it to my naked body. And that was the first place my mind went. Self-preservation. I was human after all and years of feeling average, less than average even, hadn't been wiped away despite Jacob's love and insistence that I was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.
The self doubt lied in my subconscious, waiting for moments like this. Moments where I was face to face with the question: Am I really beautiful? Then the whispers of the girls who used to pick on me and the boys that broke my heart came screaming back. They told me I wasn't someone worthy of Jacob.
Silence reverberated around the room and there was something else that kept me from shrinking away and apologizing for subjecting her to my blinding nakedness. My self doubt was real. The scars I carried would never truly go away. But it wasn't alone. There was another part of me that felt beautiful. Desirable. Who saw confirmation in the way my guy looked at me.
I sat up straight, proud of the way my body was slick against the cool leather. My curves weren't something to cover. I was beautiful.
"I think I'm fine for now." I said, answering the question she didn’t quite get out. I pulled my hair from my ponytail, wild and untamed curls bouncing free and tossed it over my shoulder with a confidence I didn't have to fake. I looked at Jacob, smiling at the way he looked at me. He was impressed. "How about you, sweetheart?"
One side of his mouth tilted upward. "I don't require a drink."
The attendant hustled away, snapping the curtain closed behind her.
Jacob gestured for me to come to him, his deep voice thick as syrup and just as sweet. "There is something else I require."
I slid into his lap, looping my arms around his neck. "And what's that?"
"You."
****
This wasn't happening. I wasn't 37,000 feet in the air in a private jet, straddling Jacob freaking Whitmore with my nipple between his teeth. Groaning. Begging him not to stop.
And he didn't.
I braced myself on the chair, feeling every ragged breath he drew. Teeth bared as he gripped the mounds tight, holding them steady as he stroked it with his tongue. Moaning was a given, as natural as breathing as he flicked the swollen nub back and forth before he moaned and the sound rippled through me. I’d given up trying to do anything but focus on the way he made me feel. I didn’t wonder if I was too heavy or if my groans and the sounds of him licking, sucking me were giving the staff an involuntary front row seat to the action. There was only the rhythm of his mouth, lips, and tongue, pulling me closer to coming.
His lips rounded the curve, hovering just above as his words fluttered over my nipple. “Tell me what you were thinking when she came in.”
I frowned. I didn’t want thinking. I wanted this. More of his mouth. I jutted my chest out and he gave me a smile hot and dirty enough to make me come on the spot...and then he gripped my nipple between his fingers and squeezed.
I winced as the pain cut through the haze of lust, sobering me enough to know he meant business. I knew he wanted me. He was swollen and thumping against the fly of his pants, like he could sense me dripping just past the barrier between us. But he was in charge--and he asked me a question.
The longer I waited to respond, the tighter his grip became.
“What was I thinking?” I eked out, tears rushing to my eyes and receding when he released it. “She’s getting the whole shebang and didn’t even take me to dinner first?”
His thick lips twitched with amusement, but his other aquiline features were chiseled stone.
“I was nervous, but then I…” I trailed off, eyes rolling back in my head as the hand that rounded my bottom spread my cheeks and a single finger slid in the space between. At the moment, I wasn’t even thinking clearly. I was lost in the wet sounds of my desire filling the silence.
“Then you what?” he said softly, eyes hot and heavy.
I almost whined in frustration. More than anything I just wanted him. “Then I just said fuck it.” I emphasized the F word and felt him move with approval. “I just didn’t care if she saw me. All that mattered was if you saw me.”
He swiped his tongue over his bottom lip just as he pushed a finger inside me. I swore it was like he was in my skin, knowing exactly where to press, just the right way to pump to make me spiral to ecstasy. I fought the urge to close my eyes and savor the moment, the desire to gaze into the depths of his blue eyes. His next words made the choice simple. My eyes fluttered open and met his, feeling the tingles of love race over every part of me.
“I see you Leila. You possessed me from the moment we met.” He lowered his voice to the deep, sexy, bedroom timbre that was for me and me alone. “I want to watch your eyes roll back in your head while I make you come with my hands. I want to hear every note of the moans that fall from your lips as I take you against the door, then the bed, the floor. I want to feel your body melt around me. You belong to me, Leila. And I belong to you.”
He was a man of his word, adding a second finger and filling me so deliciously that keeping my eyes on him was impossible. It felt too good, I felt too wild and each pump pushed me to the edge before he twisted, slowed or changed the rhythm and brought me back, dancing on the pin of a needle. He let me catch up, let me feel like I had some semblance of control before it ratcheted back up and I was huffing, moaning for more even though the pleasure was maddening. He took my breath away, but breathing was irrelevant. This was all that mattered.
“Open your eyes--and come for me.”
My eyelids sprung open and all I could do was feel as I took him in and out. I was the sum of my aching, needy muscles, other ears be damned. Sparks fired from my toes and poured out my mouth in a roar and he was right there, watching me like I was a work of art unfolding before him.
And we weren’t done.
I barely had time to blink or remember that we were on a jet and I’d just come loud enough to be heard several state lines over before he took me by the hand and pulled me toward the back of the cabin.
As soon as he slid the door of the sleeping cabin closed, I was against it. His hands gripped my cheeks as his mouth gripped my lips. His masculine scent surrounded me, aroused me, and instantly I was going blow for blow, clasping him to me, sucking his lips, losing myself in his taste.
He pulled back, voice hot with mischief. “One of us is significantly overdressed.”
My lips split into a grin as I gripped his belt buckle. “We should work on that.”
I suddenly got the appeal of those rip-away pants. His belt buckle was like a rubik’s cube and I just wanted to rip it and everything keeping us apart to shreds. He pulled off his shirt, but his bottom half was still clothed. He took a look at my frustration and freed the belt. He started on the fly, but I stopped him. “Not yet.”
He quirked an eyebrow until I dropped to my knees. I licked my lips and put a hand on each side of his muscled hips and eased toward the zipper. I caught it with my teeth without embarrassing myself, but heat still fanned my cheeks and spread between my thighs as I drew it down. The two sides were open, revealing his groin to me. A thin strip of dark cotton surrounded the bulge of him and I felt the heat build into a flame as I pulled down the box
ers, the full length of his erection snapping free. It was beautiful. From the mushroom shaped tip to the impressive swollen shaft. Veins bulged beneath the skin, blood engorging him, blood raging through my veins as I took him in my hand and came forward.
I sucked the tip, my tongue claiming every contour of it, loving the way his fingers threaded my hair and tightened when I focused on the underside of the head of him. I replaced my mouth with my hand and drug my tongue down the length of his shaft, not stopping until I hit the dense, wiry curls at his groin. I drew back to the tip and found a new stretch of him to explore until every inch had been touched by me. I sat back slightly, looking up into his lust hidden face.
“I see you too,” I whispered.
And with that, I took him in my mouth, the entire length plunging between my lips until I saw stars. I gagged slightly and I could feel him pause, gauging if I could take him. If I was ready.
I answered him by taking him farther, and he let out a groan that shook my whole body. He rocked in and out of my mouth and I could taste every bit of his desire as I sucked him.
Devoured him.
His grip tightened and I prepared myself for his climax, but he pulled himself from my lips instead.
“Up,” he ordered huskily, eyes glazed and dangerous. “I have promises to keep.”
I didn’t hesitate and neither did he. He slammed me back against the door, just as the plane hit turbulence. He held me steady and for a brief moment my stomach dropped. On a regular plane, the seat belts light would have been flashing.
“Should we?” I stopped when he pushed me back and somehow without losing his own footing, brought my hips out, gripping only my leg. The whole room shook. My bones rattled. We should have been scurrying back to out seats, but the look in his eyes told me safety was the last thing on his mind.
When he thrust into me, full hilt, it was the last thing on my mind too.
God I loved this man. Nothing else had even been so sweet, so sexy. There was nowhere I’d rather be.
The plane took another tumble, this one pronounced and my heart dropped as I held onto him for dear life. He filled me, every pore of me straining. He couldn’t even wait until we were on solid ground to have me and there was something incredibly erotic about that. But as the cabin rattled like we were being shook by God himself, I was afraid.
“Jacob--“
“Do you trust me?” He was still inside me, balls deep, pressing me against the door. He wasn’t even registering the fact that anything not nailed down was shaking.
“Maybe we should--“
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” I said softly, without hesitation. I looked him straight on, letting out a sigh as he rolled his hips and pushed deeper inside me. “I trust you Jacob.”
“Good.” He pulled himself from me slowly. Reluctantly. I figured we were on our way back out to the cabin, off to put our seat belts on before the attendant started yelling, asking if we were out of my mind. Instead, he swung me around and pushed me back onto the bed. I let out a gasp and gripped the sheets as the plane shuddered, making my teeth chatter.
I opened my mouth, eyeing his beautiful, muscled physique and almost forgot everything but my desire until the plane jerked, reminding me that we were veering close to danger. I kept waiting to hear the pilot come on the intercom screeching, “Mayday! Mayday!”
Jacob advanced onto the bed, eyes devouring me as he gripped me and pulled my body toward him. I wasn’t sure how he was keeping his balance and oblivious to everything but me, but I was having a serious psychological and physical debate. On one hand, even slight turbulence freaked me out and this far surpassed that. I felt like we were moments away from re-enacting the ‘Lost’ pilot. But physically I wanted him back inside me. My breathing was jagged. My skin felt electric. I was spread open and dripping for him.
“What if--”
“What if?” he cut in, muscles finally relaxing as he moved between my thighs, powerful features boring into me. “Then I want to have you one last time.”
He pushed back inside me and I surrendered. The white flag was thrown. There was nothing but this feeling, this bliss. My fingernails raked down his back and his moans silenced everything else but this. We didn’t use words. He didn’t give commands. We just lost ourselves in each other like it was our last time.
And then the plane was still. Smooth. Like the calm after the storm.
The intercom above us blared to life.
“Hello folks. We hit some choppy air, but I think we’re through the worst of it. Sorry for any inconvenience.”
I looked at Jacob and saw a flash of worry that he hid away with a chuckle. “I knew we’d be fine.”
****
Nothing could have prepared me for the water.
I’d seen pictures, movies set in the Caribbean. The water always seemed impossibly clear. Unattainably beautiful. Right outside of the small charter plane window turquoise colored water stretched as far as the eye could see. After the turbulence from the jet, I didn’t even mind the way the small plane trembled as the pilot steered us toward the landing strip on Mustique Island. I was too busy trying to wrap my mind around the fact that we were thousands of miles away from the city. From drama and all the things that kept me and Jacob apart. It was like a whole other world.
I reached over and interlaced my fingers between Jacob’s and butterflies danced in my stomach when he winked at me before returning to the conversation on his cell. He was using his ‘Mr. Whitmore’ voice, the one he reserved for business and when he wanted things done his way--or else.
I stepped off the plane, inhaling deep as I took in the island. Mustique Island was privately owned and located in the center of St. Vincent and the Grenadines. Lush green vegetation surrounded me, the smell of flowers and tropics creating a fragrance that I wanted to bottle and keep forever. It was a smell unlike anything I’d ever experienced. When a Mercedes eased up the runway and Jacob handed our pilot several crisp hundred dollar bills and the man barely flinched, the smell of something else hung in the air: money.
Mustique was known for its exclusivity and as a vacation spot for the affluent. Curious, I’d pulled up the island’s website on the plane and besides two small boutique hotels that charged nearly one thousand dollars a night, the island boasted sprawling villas that cost as much as some Americans made in a year--for a week’s stay.
There was nothing blatantly ostentatious about the Mercedes that picked us up plane side; I didn’t buckle myself in with a diamond encrusted seatbelt. But it was the fact that there was no one else on the strip besides the pilot and a few airport attendees that reminded me that this wouldn’t be my Mother’s Caribbean vacation. I felt like we had the whole island to ourselves.
My life would never be the same. When most people wanted to escape they went on an overnight trip. When I said I wanted to escape, my fiancé put us on a plane and rushed us to the Caribbean.
I was going to get my beach wedding.
“Are you alright?” Jacob asked, picking up on my silence.
“I’m on a private island in the Caribbean.” I gestured out the window at the first people I’d seen since we landed, an older couple with a market basket and expressions like they didn’t have a care in the world “It’s...” I stopped, my chest tightening.
“A little overwhelming?” he finished for me, reading my nervousness despite the smile I wore, showing literally every tooth in my mouth. “It’s okay to be overwhelmed. Our reason for coming here...” He trailed off and I dropped the grin, suddenly very aware of the fact that I wasn’t too fond of him equating any other emotion other than excitement with our situation.
A little bit of a hypocrite, huh Lay? “You’re nervous.”
He pushed his shades up, like he was catching the mask before it fell away. “Nervous? Not exactly.” His eyes were shielded but I could see the nerve in his jaw ticking. “Maybe slightly. But not about making you my wife. I just want to make sure that the ceremony i
s...worthy of you. I want it to be something you remember for the rest of your life.” He paused as the phone in his hand dinged and his jaw tightened. “Fondly.”
I put my hand over his before he answered it and gave the poor sap on the other end a piece of his mind. “Even if the driver pulled to the side of the road right now and we got married in the backseat, I’d love it. You moved heaven and earth to get me away from the city and the paparazzi--”
“--and my mother?” he said with a chuckle.
“Our mothers,” I clarified. Sure, if there was an Aggravation Olympics, Alicia would win hands down, but having Mom berate me and force my hand wasn’t much better. It was just another form of control.
I pushed aside the bumble of nerves that occupied my stomach and looked straight at the one person that made it all worth it. “This is all I wanted, Jacob. You are all I wanted.”
His smile deepened as he stroked my cheek. “I love you, Leila.”
I scooted closer to him. “Love you too.” As soon as I closed my eyes I began making a mental checklist of all the things I didn’t have. Like a dress. Or anyone to do my hair. Or shoes. And what about--
I stopped. Was this what wedding jitters felt like? It was hard to tell because I’d been questioning whether I belonged in Jacob’s world since he first asked me to be a part of it. And I wanted to be in his life. I wanted this to be something he remembered always; not the stress nor having to cuss out custom officials to make sure the marriage was official.
Cut it out. I ordered myself, focusing on his hand in mine. Focusing on the oasis right outside my window. He loves you. You love him. Everything else is static. I thought happy thoughts as the car pulled up a hill that overlooked a cliff, water crashing into the sand. We pulled into a cobblestone driveway, stopping at a wrought iron gate. The driver leaned out the window and punched in the access code and the gates retracted. The terrain was steep and ropey tree limbs with thick, bushy leaves obscured the view on both sides. There was a small clearing and the cobblestone ended, leading up to a jagged walking path.