by Lula Baxter
I sit in one of the chairs at a table and Alexandre settles in the seat across from me. Almost immediately one of the flight attendants is standing next to us.
“Would you care for a drink before takeoff?”
“I’ll have the usual, and…?” he looks at me with one eyebrow raised as if to ask what I’ll be having.
“Oh…I don’t know.”
“How about a French 75?” he offers with a teasing grin.
I laugh and shrug. “A French 75 it is.”
“Very good,” she says with a perfectly polite, professional smile and a nod.
“So where are we going?” I ask as soon as she leaves.
“Do you really want to know?”
“Well…yeah?”
“That didn’t sound very definite,” He leans over and gives me a secret smile. “Why not enjoy the mystery?”
Now that he’s said it, I feel the adventurous side of me kick in, relishing the surprise that awaits. There are quite a few places in the world a girl could travel to with nothing but a passport and a jet to take her there. I revel in the possibilities, imagining each place on that list with Alexandre by my side.
The attendant comes back with our drinks. I feel the engines start beneath us and soon we’re taxiing down to the runway. I sip my drink, which is as delicious as I remember it was the first time around. Looking out the window, I watch the scenery first speed past, then fall below us as we take-off.
Once we are far enough in the air that Boston is well behind us—we’re heading east over water, which narrows down the destinations—I turn back to Alexandre.
“Okay, so I’ll leave the mystery as to our destination alone…for now.”
Alexandre chuckles and takes a sip of his drink, which looks like the same thing he was drinking the night he took my virginity, Remy…something. I smile behind my glass as I remember everything about that evening.
“I have my own question,” he asks, swirling his glass in his hand as he looks at me thoughtfully.
“Go ahead.”
“What made you say yes finally?”
I set my glass down and blow air out of my mouth. I turn to look out the window for a moment, watching the water below us reach out into an endless expanse. Finally, I turn back to him, squinting with one eye. “I knew I’d always regret it if I didn’t. I mean, I have no idea what you have planned, which makes it fun. But…I’d always wonder, you know?”
“I do know,” he says staring so intently at me with those piercing green eyes, mine drop to the table.
“I guess I just enjoy trying new and interesting experiences and…well, you’ve certainly shown me a few already.” I say laughing nervously as I pick up my glass to take a sip.
A wicked grin comes to Alexandre’s face and it reaches me like a rush of hot air. I have no idea what’s coming but it’s going to be…bad.
“Would you like to have a new experience right now?” he asks, arching an eyebrow suggestively.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Alexandre
I know better than anyone she’s never been admitted to the Mile High Club. Certainly not in the time between breaking up with Bruce and meeting me at the airport.
Astrid’s eyes sparkle and grow wide above her glass. She pulls it away and erupts into a coughing fit as her drink goes down the wrong tube.
“Would it really be that scandalous considering everything we’ve done so far?” I tease, waiting for her to recover.
“It’s not—”cough, cough“—that. It’s just—”cough, cough, cough. She looks around the cabin, still coughing every few seconds.
“The flight attendants are settled in the back. Neither of them will come back until our meal is ready or we call them. Even then, they know better than to interrupt us.”
Astrid’s fully recovered now and gives me an incredulous look. Then, just like that first day back at the marina in Monte Carlo, I watch her eyes transform. I can actually see the uncertainty transition to consideration, then to intrigue. She smiles and bites her lip, which is all the answer I need.
“Come here,” I say, in a way that tells her it’s an order, not a request.
I’m surprised she hasn’t broken skin, the way her teeth sink deeper into her bottom lip. Still, she rises and walks around the small table to stand in front of me. I’m glad she wore something simple. It’ll make it easier to access all the parts of her that I want to taste…devour…conquer.
“Lift the skirt up.” My eyes bore into hers, holding them captive in an almost hypnotic state.
Unable to break the spell I have her under, she instantly obeys me. Her hands clench the sides of her dress at the hips, scrunching the fabric in her hands, as her fingers creep the skirt higher and higher. When the hem is finally at her fingertips, she stops, staring at me to wait for my next command.
“Higher.”
Her only response is a soft exhale, but she pulls the skirt higher until the hemline sits in a straight line, showing only a peek of the white underwear she has on underneath. She’s teasing now. I can see it in the naughty way her eyes gleam.
My own eyes stare back with even more intensity, my lids lowering slightly. If she thinks this is a game, I’m going to make her play it my way.
“Higher.”
Astrid inches it up until the skirt is finally past her underwear, showing off a smooth band of skin above the waistband. Now, she looks patently ridiculous, her elbows akimbo as she holds all that fabric up high enough for my satisfaction. I can see the humiliation on her face as she stands there like a silly little girl showing off her underwear in the middle of the plane. Even though I assured her the flight attendants wouldn’t be making an appearance, she probably now wonders if I was telling the truth.
I make her wait just a little bit longer, my eyes dragging across her lower half, from that stretch of skin above her underwear to the sandals on her feet. After that lazy bit of insolence, the fierceness with which I hook my fingers into the sides of her underwear to tear them down her hips and thighs is enough to make her gasp in surprise.
“Alexandre!” she exhales. I can’t tell if it’s the shock of being exposed so violently or the cool air in the cabin hitting the slit between those lovely thighs. I can already smell how wet she is.
“Can I lower my skirt now?” she pleads, sounding like a mewling kitten.
“No,” I reply. “I’m not even close to being done playing with you. I haven’t even fucking started.”
I reach one hand out to cup the area between her thighs. My middle finger slides between her wet lips to find her dripping, just as I knew she would be.
“It seems you’re just getting started too,” I muse.
“What are you going to do?” she whispers.
“I thought you liked surprises,” I reply, giving her a sinister grin. I insert two fingers into her, noting how tight she still is. Astrid gasps again. It turns into a moan as I begin sliding them in and out, curving my fingers in to hit just the right spot. My thumb searches around for her clit and when it hits home, begins flicking and stroking it.
“Please…oh, god, Alexandre,” Astrid moans, still standing in the middle of the plane with her dress hitched up around her waist.
I watch her face contort with pleasure, her eyes finally breaking my hold on them as they close. I maintain my focus on her face, cementing this vision to memory. I want to see Astrid like this every day. I want to wake her up in the morning with moans of pleasure. I want to put her to bed with screams of ecstasy. I want all the hours in between filled with me making her happy in every way possible.
I fucking want her.
“Oh…shit…yes!” she screams. When she climaxes against my fingers her pussy clenches around them so hard I nearly explode myself. Her juices flow down my hand, making my dick practically scream for release. I pull my fingers out and wait for her to open her eyes.
“Sit on my lap,” I order.
She begins dropping the skirt to her dress, which I’
m amazed she’s actually been able to keep up.
“Hold it up. I want to see you.”
All the inhibition that was lost when she was in the throes of orgasm comes back in the flush of her cheeks when she realizes the indecent state she’s still in. She manages to keep her skirts up as she steps out of her panties and straddles my thighs. She giggles as she feels my rock-hard dick pressed against her exposed pussy.
Her perfect little tits are right at eye-level. Those hard nubs poking through the fabric are too tempting not to uncover, so I bring the straps of her dress down her shoulders. It’s like unwrapping two perfect pieces of candy as the black and white fabric slides over the curve of her breasts. It catches on the hard peaks of her nipples before flicking off, as I expose her down to her waist.
Now she’s almost fully naked, the dress bunched around her waist like an oversized belt. The shoulder straps bind her arms to her side. It hints at just the right amount of bondage to practically force my dick through the fabric of my pants.
“Pull my cock out,” I order, as I take hold of her bare ass cheeks to keep her steady.
Astrid has been breathing heavier and heavier since I completely exposed her, now she’s practically hyperventilating as she goes to work on my button and zipper. She fumbles her way through and when it releases it’s like a goddamned jack-in-the-box. I almost laugh, but the urge to feel her surrounding my cock snaps that right out of me.
I squeeze her ass, pushing her forward until her wet slit is pressed up against my shaft.
“What about…?” she breathes out with what little air she seems to have left in her lungs.
Of course she isn’t on birth control. Heaven knows, Bruce gave her no reason to make it a necessity. Even though that animal brain of mine finds the idea of impregnating her right here and right now oh so fucking tempting, the rational part of me takes over. Fortunately, I damn well came prepared.
“In my pants pocket. Reach down and pull it out.”
I’m still holding her by her ass to keep her from sliding off as she digs around in one pocket then the other to pull out the condom. She begins tearing it open with her teeth.
“Wait,” I say.
The foil packet is still stuck between her teeth, pressing her lower lip down in a way that’s strangely erotic.
“Do you trust me?”
Her eyes go wide with the implication. I don’t bother explaining myself.
“Do you trust me?” I ask again.
Even though her eyes are still wide with wary trepidation, she nods. That condom still tugging at her lower lip.
She gives a soft whimper when I pick her up and carry her over to the long sofa opposite us and sit her down.
“I still have every intention of feeling that wet pussy against my dick, Astrid,” I say as I spread her legs wide open and drag her down to the edge.
The hand holding the condom to her mouth flies away and presses flat into the sofa, along with the other one, as though bracing herself.
“What…what…?” She doesn’t finish, knowing all too well I won’t be giving her an answer.
I kneel before her and lean in close enough to slide the head of my cock against her slit, parting those lips even wider. It’s followed by my long, hard shaft as it glides along that perfect, pink slice of heaven. I look down at it, soft lips invaded by my massive, granite-like girth. I can feel the exposed nub of her clit as my shaft grazes across it, causing her fingers to dig harder into the couch.
“See how fucking hard you make me, Astrid? How badly I want to fuck you?” I say, through teeth gritted in frustration since I can’t just plunge into her right now.
“Tell me how good it feels,” I demand, needing more satisfaction.
I didn’t even need to ask; her soft cries and moans rise above even the sound of the jet engine. “I want you inside me, Alexandre. I don’t care what happens,” she says recklessly. She has no fucking idea how bad it is to tempt me that way.
“Astrid, my reckless little Astrid,” I murmur. “Put the fucking condom on my dick, so I can fuck some sense into you.”
Her eyes flash open as she blushes under my admonition. Her fingers crawl across the couch next to her in search of the condom. When she finds it she rips it open and lowers her eyes to focus on rolling it down my cock. Her eyes remain downcast when she’s finished.
I reach out to lift her chin, waiting for her eyes to come back up to mine. “Don’t worry, we’ll still have fun,” I say with a devilish grin that brings a smile to her face.
I let go of her chin and use both hands to grab her thighs, lifting them up to my waist. Astrid follows my lead, clenching them hard so they remain there. Her body is slightly arched in the air, which causes her small breasts to stick straight up temptingly.
It’s all the motivation I need to slide into her. The proof that I’m the only one she’s been with is in the resistance I feel tightened around me as I sink into her.
“Alexandre,” she moans with a mixture of pain and pleasure.
I give her a moment to adjust to my size for the second time. That thought breezes through my head so easily I almost miss it. I’m the only man she’s been with. Her one and only. I know it isn’t the heat of lust that makes my heart race at the possibility that I might be the only man she will ever be with. Forever. Hell, maybe it is. But then how does that explain flying all the way to America just to see her again? How does that explain risking fifty-million dollars just to spend more time with her? How does that explain exposing emotional parts of me I’ve had closed up forever?
It makes feeling her warmth wrapped around my cock that much more intense. I lean in on the couch to sink in deeper, stretching her open to accept me.
“How does that feel, me fucking you again?”
“Good,” she breathes. “It feels—oh!”
I’ve shifted so that her pelvis is tilted up. The perfect position for me to hit that right spot. I continue to slide in and out of her, fucking her in a rhythm that gradually increases.
“Alexan—oh, oh!” She’s sputtering out each word with a cry. Then her eyes, which have gradually closed, flash open as the first orgasm hits her. I smile at the shock of it on her face. I know the first time, this didn’t happen, which was no surprise. I’m thrilled that I could make it happen, and so quickly, this time around.
Her pussy is still dripping, a literal puddle forming underneath her ass. Which gives me another deviant idea.
“How do you feel about another first?” I ask. “My finger inside your ass?”
Her eyes go wide, but her body’s reaction betrays her. She rocks her hips, so that her ass is slightly lifted off the couch. I’m sure her asshole is already drenched with the result of how wet she is.
“Say it,” I growl.
“Yes,” she replies, giving me a breathy smile. “I want your finger in my ass.”
I’m sure the grin that comes to my face is the very definition of shit-eating, but I don’t care. I love that she’s trusting me with yet another first.
I pull out with an audible pop, taking a moment to feel a rush of satisfaction at the opening that’s been created by my size.
“Get on all fours,” I order.
Even though the fear is still in her eyes, Astrid quickly scrambles to flip over. She grabs the back of the sofa with her hands and rests her knees on the edge of the seat. I reach out to pry her thighs further apart so everything from her clit to her asshole is visible before me.
Astrid whimpers in protest, probably feeling even more exposed and embarrassed in this position. My only response is to shove my dick back into her, turning those cries into a grunt of pain. It transitions to a soft, gurgling sound in her throat as I slowly start to fuck her again.
“Tell me how it feels.”
“So…big. But…it feels so good.”
“Show me how good. Fuck my dick and show me how much you want it,” I command, keeping my body perfectly still.
Astrid pushes her hips back,
sinking down onto my shaft until her soft butt cheeks are pressed hard against my groin, then she slowly, achingly pulls away again.
“That’s it, keep going,” I say.
While she slides up and down my pole, I coat two fingers with the glistening wetness she’s covered in.
“Are you sure, you want this?” I say, pressing the fingertips to her puckered opening.
She turns around to face me with that wicked gleam in her eyes, the same one I saw when she first got completely naked before me back on the boat.
“Yes, Alexandre.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Astrid
Alexandre pierces the hole I’ve never even imagined a man going past the threshold of, even if it is just his finger. After the initial pop, he sinks deeper and deeper into me. Then pulls out. The second time, another finger goes in, stretching me open even wider
“Ohhh…Ohh,” I moan, closing my eyes to fully absorb this new experience. It hurts, but the pain is exquisite. Like trying something salty mixed with something sweet. It’s a sensation that shouldn’t feel this good, but somehow does.
Maybe it’s being so vulnerable with Alexandre. I’m bent over, blindly giving myself to him, while he has his way with me. My legs are spread so wide, I’m exposing everything to him, more than I ever have before. And now he’s filling everything, more than he ever has before. Even when he made me stand there in the middle of the plane holding my dress up above my naked lower half, I didn’t feel this helpless.
“Are you okay?” he asks behind me
I smile to myself and nod. “Yes.”
It feels almost surreal. Here I am, on a private plane somewhere over the Atlantic, getting my pussy and my ass fucked by a man I met one day as he rode a motorcycle through Monte Carlo. Who knew when our paths first crossed it would end up like this?
But it’s wonderful. I keep pushing and pulling my hips, fucking his cock like he ordered me to. He brings the hand that isn’t taking care of my other hole around and places on my pelvis so his finger can torture my clit like he did before. The sensation is almost unbearable and every part of me clenches with pleasure, including my ass.