Chapter Five
THE TENSION IN the cabin was shifting. The air was charged and taut, blooming with something unspoken but undeniable, a shimmering heat haze of anticipation and hunger.
Antaeus held his breath. He could feel Cassie shaking.
That was why he had taken her hand. To steady her.
Liar, he thought, his pulse juddering forward like a car skidding on black ice. He’d wanted to steady himself
Moments earlier, the leather-lined interior had been a contrast to the atmospheric mayhem outside. Now it felt like a pressure cooker. And the storm felt insignificant compared to the maelstrom of warring emotions and incoherent desire that was raging inside him.
And not just him.
Cassie’s eyes were all pupil, and he could see her pulse leaping wildly in her throat. But she was the daughter of his enemy, the last woman on earth he should want to touch.
So move. Move. Move your hand, he told himself. But his hand stayed where it was.
Hers did, too, and he couldn’t stop himself from applying a little pressure then, just enough to part her fingers.
Her hand jerked free of his, and he felt its absence cut his skin like a blade. Then she reached for his wrist, her fingers moving over his arm with a teasing lightness of touch that made the blood roar in his ears so loudly that it blotted out the sound of the rain.
Blotted out all the reasons this was a bad idea. Now he was taking her wrist, turning it over and tracing the veins up her arm with deliberate slowness.
Her breath hitched, a tiny, almost inaudible sound over the thundering of his heart. But it was more than just an involuntary intake of air. It was an invitation, a surrender.
He shifted his weight awkwardly, his movements constrained by the cramped space and the very real fear that she might call a halt to it.
She shifted, too, closer, then away from him, then closer again as if her body was fighting itself.
She pressed her thumb against his mouth almost reverentially.
A hot, scratchy sound rose from his throat.
Her irises were narrow rims of green as she jerked backwards. He felt every single cell in his body reach for her, and the press of his cock against his trousers was impossible to ignore, painful—
Now she was grabbing the front of his shirt, pulling him against her eager, straining body.
‘Cassie—’
Her name stumbled from his mouth, his voice jagged and unfamiliar-sounding. Her hands were travelling down his chest to his waist. He felt her pull up his shirt, exposing a strip of skin to the cool air and her warm fingers.
The scent of her perfume was intoxicating. He slid his fingers through her hair to cup the base of her skull, his touch both possessive and gentle. Now she leaned in closer, her lips brushing against his in a tentative, clumsy kiss. He almost moaned in relief as he brought his mouth down on hers.
The taste of her went straight to his head.
Outside, the beat of the rain against the helicopter seemed slow in comparison to the rhythm of his frantic heartbeat.
He deepened the kiss, felt her respond, felt her mouth become more demanding, more urgent.
The distance between them, once a chasm of resentment and hostility, shrank to nothing as his hands moved from her hair to the base of her spine.
He was nudging her backwards into the passenger cabin, his shoulder colliding with the door-frame.
But he barely registered the pain. His whole being was focused on the ache in his groin and the feel of this beautiful woman’s mouth on his.
She trod on something, almost tripped. Then they were falling back against the seat, and he was pulling her against him until she was half leaning into him, half in his lap.
With a groan, he lifted her up, his heartbeat accelerating, cock growing harder as the skirt of her dress rode up her thighs and she wrapped her legs around his hips.
His mind blanked as his hands found bare, warm skin.
She was wearing a thong, and as his fingers bit into the flesh of her bottom, he thought it would be over before it began.
To distract himself from his erection, which was getting hotter and harder to contain, he yanked at the jacket, pulling the sleeves down her arms. This was the answer to that question neither had asked. This was the certainty they both wanted.
His hands tightened around her waist as he leaned in to lick her throat, nip at her shoulder, then suck open-mouthed at the skin, his blood singing as she clutched his head closer.
He couldn’t get enough of her frantic breath or the noises she was making as she moved beneath his hands. A pressure was building inside him.
‘Slow down,’ he said hoarsely, but she was moving more urgently now. As he tried to shift her back onto his lap, they slipped sideways, ending in a messy tangle of limbs on the carpeted floor of the cabin.
He tried to pull back, to give her space to move, but—
‘No, don’t stop,’ she commanded. He pulled her mouth to his, feeling unhinged, ravaged with need for her.
‘Can we…?’ She was kissing him fiercely, and there was a shake in her voice.
‘Can we…? I want to—’ Her words were a hot jumble against his lips.
Rolling over, he took her with him, his hand finding the zip of her dress, fingers fumbling as he pulled it down to the cleft above her bottom.
Now she was helping him, her face taut with concentration as she tugged the fabric down over her body—
He sucked in a breath, unzipped by the sight of her. Cassie wasn’t wearing a bra. She didn’t need to. Her breasts were small and high, and he reached up to pinch the dark pinkish nipples, feeling them harden.
‘I want that too,’ Anteaus said without hesitation.
She inhaled shakily, arching her body forward. He swore softly as he felt her hands pull at his waistband, fingers freeing him.
He felt a sharp twitch of pleasure. His shoulders reared off from the floor. He made a stifled, involuntary, yearning groan against the skin of her throat, hands skimming her waist to the flat of her belly, his breath shallow as she squirmed against him.
She was so soft, so smooth—
‘Antaeus.’
His name in her mouth almost tipped him over. He gripped her hip bone, breathing hard against his hunger.
‘Antaeus…’
There was a pleading note to her voice. He slid his hand under the triangle of fabric covering her pubic bone, feeling her shudder against him. She moved jerkily as if her body was not quite hers to control.
‘I want you inside me.’
‘Gamó,’ he breathed out, flattening his palm between her thighs and feeling her pulse beat in his hand as he slid his fingers into the slick heat. Now he felt the same pulse beat down the length of his cock as she smoothed her thumb over the swollen head.
‘I don’t have any protection.’ It hurt to say the words, to risk it stopping.
But she was already trying to guide him inside her. ‘I’m on the pill—’
‘You’re sure?’
‘Yes.’
Her voice was hoarse with a frustration and a hunger that matched his own.
He let her roll against him, back and forth, still clenching around his fingers.
He made himself stay still, stitched together until he felt her muscles start to tense and her breathing grow choppy.
Then she was tugging the thong to one side.
He thrust upwards as she jerked forward, her body overlapping his.
They moved as one, the taut, rocking feeling stretching them, lifting them, making them shiver and shake inside.
She cried out, and her muscles clenched tight around him. He let go, back arching, hips jerking forward as he exploded inside her, his pleasure hot and sharp and overwhelming.
Afterwards, he held her close, his hand splayed over her bottom as if to anchor her to him.
They stayed like that for longer than Antaeus could keep track of, until he felt her body soften and her breath slow. Her hand curled over his chest, and she was asleep.
He should get up. There was no need to keep lying there. For him, sleep was elusive on a good day. On a bad night, he simply got up and went for a run or worked until dawn. But now, with Cassie’s body tucked against his, how could he move without waking her?
His limbs had never been so heavy. His eyelids, too, and he shifted against the sleeping woman, pressing her closer so that she was lying soft against him. He shut his eyes and let the sound of the rain and her breathing fill his head.
Cassie woke to sunlight and calm and the bluest sky she had ever seen.
It took her a moment to get her bearings, to realise that she was lying on the floor of the helicopter. And that Antaeus wasn’t lying beside her.
The fact that he had been there for most of the night and not just beside but inside her made her skin tighten around her body. Which was when she realised that she was both naked and lying under Antaeus’s jacket.
Momentarily it felt like there was no air in her lungs. She had a shattering memory of Antaeus unzipping her dress and pushing it down over her thighs and even more tortuous ones of her helping him pull her thong to one side.
She had helped him.
And then she had fallen asleep.
But at some point later, she had woken and reached for him again. That time her dress and thong had come off. His clothes came off too.
The thought made her bite the inside of her cheek.
It made her want to get outside her head and her body, neither of which was possible, unfortunately.
Instead, she sat up. There was something infantilizing about lying on her back.
At least upright, she could pretend she was in control of her actions.
Her stomach twisted and tightened as she pictured Antaeus laying his jacket over her naked body.