Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
PARIS
What am I doing? I hated this man two hours ago. I loathed him. He was the embodiment of everything I hate. Arrogant. Entitled. Cruel.
And now? Now, I’m about to tell him to do something so intimate that only two men have ever done it to me.
One of them was Alec. The memories of Alec’s skin against mine still seem fresh in my mind even though it’s been years.
I shouldn’t remember how it feels to be touched.
I shouldn’t remember how it feels to be kissed.
But the memories seem to linger as if they are some cruel form of punishment.
I had thought maybe Alec was the one. He had whispered sweet promises of giving me a life I wish I had.
He had said those three little words I craved to hear.
And then he’d taken up his Cessna. A gift from his father.
He’d taken me for countless rides. I’d never once been afraid of planes until that day.
The investigators on the crash site said it was a microburst. The winds had shifted suddenly.
The turbulence had been strong. The plane had been low.
And the mountain range had been high. The perfect storm, quite literally.
A pilot friend who had tried to comfort me at the funeral said it was a one-in-a-million chance of hitting a storm like that right as he was climbing in altitude to go over the Appalachian Mountains.
His small plane didn’t stand a chance against Mother Nature’s volatile force.
Since then, flying had become nearly unbearable. Private jets were better because there wasn’t a chance of screaming babies or yelling passengers, but no plane felt safe…not anymore.
So here I was, struggling to ignore my current location by distracting myself with the man next to me. I wouldn’t have so much as given him the time of day normally, but perhaps, for a few minutes or hours, I could use him to keep my mind off things I’d rather not think about.
“Paris,” River whispers. He makes a tsking noise as if scolding me for taking so long and something about that thrills me. The fact is that it does feel wrong, yet I crave more of it. He slides two fingers back and forth over the joining of my skin and panties, teasing me, and taunting me.
I swallow. “He…he slides his hand between my belly and panties,” I whisper in a barely audible voice.
He takes a single finger and presses it beneath the waistband of my underwear.
I lean my chair back a little, my body nearly horizontal now, my legs raised slightly in the leg rest that pops up from beneath the seat.
His finger pauses, waiting for my instruction and another thrill zaps through me.
I like this power. He’s like my own personal sex toy, doing what I say, how I say.
“And he slowly slides his fingers down between my legs,” I continue.
River’s fingers slide down and cup my sex. I blush. He has to feel how wet I am, but he doesn’t make a sound or facial expression to let on.
“And then…he takes a single finger and slides it between my folds.”
I feel one long, thick finger slide back and forth, separating my folds.
The only tell he has indicating that he’s affected by me is his clenching jaw.
“He circles my…my clit,” I say in a hushed voice, so low that I’m not sure he heard it until he follows my direction. My eyelids fall shut again for a long second as I feel his finger, slick with need, circling my clit, over and over.
“Then, he runs it down to my entrance,” I continue.
His finger pauses over my vagina and slowly moves farther back toward a place that has not been touched before. My eyelids fly open.
He smirks. “You’ll need to be more specific,” he jests.
I narrow my eyes and his eyes light up with amusement. What. A. Dick.
“The vaginal one…you jackass,” I hiss.
His smirk stays as he pulls his finger back toward the correct opening. He sinks it slowly inside me, but only up to the first knuckle.
“He pushes it all the way inside me,” I demand.
River’s finger pulls out a little and then painfully slowly pushes inside me until it can’t go any farther.
“He…he starts fucking me with his finger.”
River’s smirk dissipates as he follows the order, his large digit moving in and out of me.
I let my legs fall open. River pauses and gets his chair in a reclining position.
He uses his free hand to move my right leg onto his leg rest, spreading me farther open for him.
Then he goes back to fucking me with his finger.
“He adds a second finger,” I state. River pulls his single finger and runs two fingers back and forth through my wet folds before sinking them both inside me. Shit! He’s stretching me to the point of burning but it feels so good.
“He curls his fingers and finds my G-spot,” I say as my cheeks heat once more.
He complies and I let my eyes drift closed again.
Fuck, he’s good at this. So good. Like he’s done this a million times.
Hell, maybe he has. But I guess that’s in my favor because if he keeps this up, I’m going to come like a freight train in a matter of seconds.
“He presses his thumb to my clit, and starts circling it,” I say through gritted teeth. He does as I say, and I feel myself climbing.
My breaths are coming fast.
“He tells me to come for him,” I whisper.
River leans toward me. His lips against my ear.
I feel his hot breath on my skin. “Come for me, Paris. Right fucking now,” he commands.
And that’s all it takes. I splinter into a million freaking pieces.
My mouth falls open on a silent cry as my body trembles, my inner muscles clamping down on his fingers in rhythmic, fluttering clenches.
He doesn’t stop and only slows after I feel my body relax.
“Now what, feisty one?” he asks. His breath is ragged. His body is tense.
I consider the logistics of how we are lying.
I have a single condom in my bag. My “just in case” condom that I never use.
With his fingers still buried in my pussy, I eye my bag pocket and squirm to reach it.
I manage to get it open and pull out the small foil square, dropping it on the blanket.
His eyes widen a bit in surprise, but then in the dim light, I swear they darken.
“He pulls his fingers from me, licking them before he takes my hand and places it over his dick, showing me how hard he is for me,” I challenge.
River doesn’t miss a beat. He pulls his fingers from me, and he brings them to his mouth and sucks my juices from them.
His eyes close for a long moment as if savoring it.
“Holy shit, that was hot,” I whisper. He takes my hand and places it on his cock, and I know my eyes must widen because he’s back to smirking. This man is huge. How’s this possibly going to work? I run my hand up and down his erection, feeling him through the fabric of his pants.
His eyelids flicker for a moment and I know he likes it.
“Then he pushes my pants down and turns me to my side, away from him,” I instruct.
He follows suit.
“Then he pulls out his dick and puts the condom on,” I continue.
I don’t even hear his zipper. He’s in stealth mode.
The only way I know he’s done it is the feel of his erection against my bare ass cheeks under the blanket.
It’s a little awkward since our chairs don’t touch flush against each other. But somehow, he manages.
“What’s next, feisty one?” he asks.
“He runs his cock between my wet folds before slowly pushing inside me,” I whisper.
River pushes my top leg forward a bit, reaching for his pillow and tucking it beneath my leg so it’s propped up a bit.
Then he takes his time running his cock through my wet heat before the enlarged head catches at my opening.
He nudges forward just a little, giving me hope that maybe it won’t burn.
That only lasts a moment as he pushes all the way inside me.
The breath leaves my lungs in a whoosh. My last coherent thought is asking myself what the hell am I doing? I’m literally having sex on a commercial plane with a complete stranger.
“Does he fuck you fast or slow?” he whispers against my ear.
“Slow,” I say, afraid of what this man could do if he went fast.
He complies and begins moving slowly. He’s so big that he fills every inch of me.
The ridge of his cock feels so good as he pushes in and out of me.
We both still when we hear movement from someone seated near us.
His cock twitches inside me and I stifle a groan.
His hand clamps around my mouth to keep me quiet, and after a moment, he starts again, but he keeps his hand on my lips.
He takes his time building my next climax, but when it comes, it hits like a tsunami.
My whole body convulses and shakes and I feel his cock begin to twitch inside me, his strokes become uneven, and then as I fall over the edge, I feel him slam home once more and stay there, the only sign he’s coming is the spams of his cock in my pussy and the way his hand goes from clamping over my mouth to squeezing my breast as his muscles strain against me.
There is no way a stranger-slash-asshole of a man just gave me the best orgasm of my life while indoctrinating me into the mile high club.