Page 9 of Shattered Veil
“Be a good girl and make yourself come with those sexy fingers. I need the taste of your cunt to beyourjuiceswhen my tongue buries between your legs. Not the man you fucked earlier. You’re mine now. I want to hear you moan when I sink my cock inside you and stretch you.”
“Oh, God...”
“Are you coming?”
“Right there. Tell me... Tell me how you want me to come.”
“I want you to come on my face, then I’m going flip you over and sink my dick inside your quivering cunt. Make you come again with my fingers in your ass and feel that tight, wet pussy squeeze my dick so hard. Christ, it will feel so incredible strangling all the cum right out of me.”
I whimper as my clit pulses harder than I think it ever has. “Finger in the ass. I want that.”
“Not just my finger, butterfly. You’ll take my cock there, too. And fucking love every inch.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Ella
After the explosive orgasm, I remove my hand from under my skirt.
“Taste yourself,” my narrator growls before I have a chance to wipe my fingers on a left-over dinner napkin.
“Maybe you’d like to taste me.” I wiggle my damp fingers close to his lips. “Oh, right. You have that no-touching thing.”
“Excuse me,” he says, leaving his seat.
The door to the first-class passenger bathroom closes and locks with a click.
I picture him in there, beating off. Smiling, I sigh, exhausted from the tension slowly leaving my body as blessed sleep claims me.
When I wake, I have no idea where the hell in the world we are, but a quick look out the plane window shows water as far as the eye can see. We’re still somewhere over the Pacific Ocean.
We took off at nine-twenty-five p.m., Sydney time with a scheduled arrival in Los Angeles at five p.m. My connecting flight is a red-eye to New York.
I wonder how many brain cells I’m destroying with all this recycled air.
The attendant graces me with a platter of food placed on the tray table that pops out from the side of the seat.
Clearing my throat, I say, “I didn’t order anything.”
“I ordered for us,” the voice next to me pipes up.
Balor appears rested, with a fresh shave and shaggy hair perfectly styled. Horrified at how ravaged I must look, I curl up under the blanket someone put over me.
The attendant hands over the same tray of food and he takes it.
“What did you order for us?” The covered dishes enticeme to sit up.
“Belgian Waffles with all the works.”
“Ooh.” I sit up fully and grab my utensils. “What the hell time is it?”
“That’s irrelevant since whatever the hell time it is will change in a second at the speed we’re flying.”
“Are you some kind of engineer?”
“Close, I went to MIT.” He easily reveals that tidbit but recoils like he didn’t mean for it to slip.
I lay a hand on his arm. “Don’t worry. I really don’t give a shit where you went to school or what you do for a living or that you can afford a jet and these glorious custom shirts.”