Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
Zara
Six hours: champagne, cloud-speckled skies, Lorenzo’s thigh pressed against mine with every bump. Six hours of asking, “Where are we going”, and receiving only his beautiful, infuriating smile.
“You’ll see when we get there.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only answer you’ll get, Tesoro.” No matter how often he said it, my chest still ached.
It didn’t help that the champagne had gone to my head, a pleasant warmth spreading through my limbs. I’d kicked off my sandals somewhere around hour four, curled into the leather seat with Beau nestled beside me, and just watched him.
The way his hands moved when he talked—expressive, elegant, dangerous. The way his jaw clenched when he mentioned his father. The way his eyes softened when they landed on me.
I was drunk on him.
When I came back from the bathroom—splashing cold water on my cheeks, trying to cool the heat building under my skin—I found him waiting in the aisle.
He filled the narrow space, broad shoulders blocking my path. His eyes raked over me, slow and deliberate, undressing me with nothing but a look.
“Sei bellissima,” he murmured, his voice rough.
Before I could respond, his hands were in my hair, tilting my head back, and his mouth crashed into mine. His tongue slid against mine, tasting of champagne and sin, as I melted into him. My hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer, needing more.
“I want to fuck you right here on this plane,” he breathed against my lips. “I don’t think I can wait to get to where we’re going.”
My heart hammered. The audacity of him, the sheer, arrogant confidence.
And damn, it turned me on.
But I refused to make it easy for him.
I pulled back, meeting his dark, hungry eyes. “You may be used to getting what you want.” I let my voice drop, low and teasing. “But I’m used to working for everything. So if you want it…” I traced a finger down his chest. “You earn it.”
Something flickered in his gaze. Surprise, respect, need.
Then he dropped to his knees.
Lorenzo’s hands gripped my hips, fingers curling into the fabric of my sundress as he steadied me in front of him.
“Then put me to work,” he said, his voice a low growl.
His hands moved with practiced efficiency, pushing up the hem of my dress up, inch by inch, revealing my bare skin to the cool cabin air. I’d worn no panties—a deliberate choice, one I’d made before boarding. I wanted him to have easy access. I wanted him to know I was his.
When he saw I was bare, a low growl rumbled from his chest. “Cazzo. Did my sweet wife plan this?”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. The way he was looking at me—like I was something precious, something he intended to devour—made my words evaporate.
He pressed a tender kiss to my inner thigh. Then another, higher, his lips brushing the sensitive skin just below my pussy. I gasped, my hips twitching toward him.
His tongue slid through my folds in one long, slow stroke, from my entrance to my clit, sending a shockwave through me. I cried out, my head falling back, my grip on the seat tightening. He lapped at me like I was nectar, like he’d been starved for the taste of me.
He guided my leg up, hooking it over his shoulder. The position left me completely open, completely exposed. I could feel the cool air against my wet pussy, could feel the weight of his gaze as he took in the sight of me spread for him.
“Stunning,” he breathed.
And then he dove in.
His mouth locked onto my clit, sucking hard, and I screamed. Not a moan—a full, pleading cry. The sound echoed off the cabin walls, swallowed by the hum of the engines. His tongue circled me, flicked me, teased me, and I could barely stand.
His fingers found my entrance, sliding two fingers in, curling to hit that sweet spot that made stars burst behind my eyes. I bucked against his hand, against his mouth, my hips grinding against his face like I’d lost all control.
“Yes—fuck, yes—right there.”
He hummed against my clit, the vibration sending shockwaves through my core. I felt the pressure building, coiling tight in my belly, my toes curling inside my heels.
His other hand slid up my body, pushing aside the neckline of my dress, finding my nipple. He rolled it between his fingers, pinching, pulling, and I sobbed with pleasure.
I looked down.
The sight of him—Lorenzo Falcone on his knees, my leg hooked over his shoulder, his face buried between my thighs, his lips glistening with my arousal—broke something in me.
This powerful, dangerous man, utterly devoted to my pleasure.
He looked up at me, his eyes locking with mine, and he didn’t stop.
He didn’t slow down. He held my gaze as his tongue circled my clit, as his fingers fucked me deeper, as he drove me toward the edge.
“I’m going to come,” I warned, my voice ragged. “Lorenzo, I’m going to—”
He doubled down.
His mouth clamped over my clit, sucking hard, his tongue flicking in rapid, merciless strokes. His fingers curled, hitting that spot inside me again and again, and I shattered.
My orgasm crashed through me like a wave, violent and consuming.
I screamed his name, my body convulsing, my hips grinding against his face as I rode out the pleasure.
He didn’t pull away. He stayed, drinking me in, lapping at my release like it was the finest wine, his fingers slowing but not stopping until I was trembling, oversensitive, collapsing against the seat behind me.
Through the haze, I looked down and watched him take every drop of me, his eyes never leaving mine.
He pulled back slowly, licking his lips, his chin slick with me.
“Deliziosa,” he said, his voice thick.
Still floating, I slumped in the leather seat, leg sliding off his shoulder. Chest heaving, dress bunched at my waist, skin flushed, glistening.
He rose to his feet, towering over me, his cock straining against his trousers. He leaned down, his lips brushing my ear with a soft kiss.
“That’s a good husband.” My voice came out husky, dripping with satisfaction. “Now you can fuck me.”
He didn’t wait—I was over his shoulder as he carried me down the narrow aisle. Laughing and breathless, my hands gripping his back as he pushed open a door at the rear of the plane, opening to a small cabin.
Lying on my back, I took in Lorenzo, now standing shirtless in front of me. The man was art. Every muscle defined, every scar a story. I’d mapped his body with my hands a dozen times, and I still couldn’t get enough.
He reached for his pants, and I sat up.
“Let me.”
My fingers fumbled his belt before pushing his pants down, allowing his cock to spring free, already hard and eager. I didn’t hesitate. I leaned forward and licked a stripe from the base to the tip.
His breath hitched.
I took him in my mouth, wrapping my lips around the head, savoring the weight of him on my tongue. I licked my way down to his balls, massaging them gently, and back up.
I started to suck him in earnest, taking him deeper. My hand wrapped around the base, stroking in rhythm with my mouth. Savoring the bite of his fingers tangled in my hair, pulling, guiding. He wanted me to deep throat, and I wanted to give it to him.
I relaxed my throat and took him all the way down.
“Cazzo—Zara—”
His moaning my name was my favorite sound. I doubled down, my head bobbing, my hand working. I felt his pulse against my tongue, knew he was close.
He didn’t warn me. He just came, hot and thick, flooding my mouth. And I took it all. Every drop. Swallowing like it was the best drink I’d ever had.
Before I pulled back, I wiped my lip with the back of my hand.
“Mr. Falcone, we’ve begun our descent. Please take your seats for landing.”
I froze. Lorenzo’s eyes closed, his jaw tight. A sound of pure frustration rumbled from his chest.
“This is not over,” he said, his voice strained.
I laughed, sinking into the pillows. “Now you have to wait, Mr. Falcone. How tragic.”
He looked at me, fire in his eyes. “When we land, I’m going to finish what you started.”
“Promises, promises,” I teased.
He grabbed my hand, pulling me up. “Come on. Let’s get buckled in before you make me risk the FAA’s wrath.”
I adjusted my dress, then stepped back into the main cabin beside Lorenzo, our fingers laced tightly. The flight attendant reappeared, checked our seatbelts with an impassive look that told me she knew exactly what we’d been up to.
But right now, I didn’t care.
The plane began its descent, the clouds giving way to lights. A city sprawled below us, unfamiliar and glittering.
“Lorenzo,” I said, watching the lights grow closer. “Where are we?”
He squeezed my hand, bringing it to his lips, causing my heart to soar.
And so did the plane, one last time, before touching down in an unknown city—with a husband who’d dropped to his knees to earn the right to fuck me.
The night had just begun.