Page 21 of Bid For Me
“We expanded. The Gulfstream is for long range and my father is using it this weekend. This is new.”
“The Praetor 600? Nice.”
Of course I shouldn’t be surprised that Elle knows her private jets. She’s grown up accustomed to the same lifestyle as me, moves in the same circles as me, but she still manages to surprise me somehow.
“I’ll give you the tour,” I tell her dryly, and she chuffs a laugh but moves ahead of me to climb the stairs to board. I stand behind her and watch her arse with every step she takes, my dick stirring in interest at her long shapely legs and short but modest skirt.
I silently let out a frustrated breath as I follow, reminding myself I have to drag this out. At the very least I need a ring on Elle’s finger before I sleep with her.
As we board the luxurious jet, Elle wanders around the cabin, taking in the luxurious fixtures and fittings, running her hands over the supple cream leather seats, her stiletto heels sinking into the luxuriously soft carpet. I admire the way she’s able to maintain her balance and poise when many women have teetered walking on carpet half as plush as this.
We settle into our seats, and the attendant brings a bottle of champagne and two tulip flutes for us. I offer her a drink, and she graciously accepts the glass of champagne.
“So, where are we going?” she asks, taking a sip.
“It’s a surprise,” I say, trying to maintain my composure. “Just sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.”
She sighs, a small smile playing on her lips. “Alright, Bastian. I trust you.”
I know she’s only talking about our date, that she trusts that I’m taking her somewhere nice and suitable, but warmth spreads through me at her words. If I could get her to trust me in all things, it would be perfect.
As the jet takes off, I can’t help but wonder what my father will think when he finds out about our engagement. Elle’s family too. Especially her brother. But for now, I’m focused on making this the most unforgettable date of Elle’s life.
The jet quickly gains altitude, and Elle leans back in her seat, closing her eyes and listening to the soft music that’sbeing played through the speakers. For a while, I simply sip my champagne and watch her.
She’s the epitome of good breeding, a true trophy wife for sure. My father will definitely approve of her. Once she gives up her job that is. There’s no way he’d approve of the future Mrs Sterling-Knight working a menial nine to five.
“Bas…” Elle begins hesitantly, opening her eyes to meet mine.
“Yes, Elle?”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“What do you…do at the club?”
“What club?” I ask, brows drawing together as the palest pink blush blooms on her cheeks and spreads down onto her décolleté.
“For Me.”
I smirk. “I would have thought it would be obvious what I do there, Elle. It’s what everyone goes there to do. I fuck beautiful women.”
She scowls and huffs. “I know that.” She sighs and crosses her arms over her chest. “Forget it, Seb.”
Seb again. Somehow I’ve messed up, but she’s not too annoyed otherwise she would have called me Sebastian.
“Sorry, Elle. No, go on. What do you mean?”
She shrugs her delicate shoulders, the movement drawing my attention to her chest for a split second. Everything about Elle is dainty and petite. She’s doll-like and innocent – literally – and fuck if thinking about corrupting her doesn’t make me hard.
“I just meant…what sort of things do you like…at the club?”
“Are you asking if I like to be pegged?” I tease, flashing her a grin. “No, I don’t by the way.”
“Are you a Dom?” She asks boldly.
I tilt my head, considering her question, before replying slowly, “I am dominant in the bedroom.”