CHAPTER FIVE
Ella
W e land in Los Angeles, and it feels good to move my legs again. I’m warm and tingly, anticipating five hours of mind-blowing sex with the gorgeous mysterious man hovering behind me while we wait to get the hell off this plane.
But if anything can kill a sex buzz, it’s deplaning and elbowing your way through a crowded airport terminal.
First-class passengers leave first, but that means shit once you’re off the plane. Balor, who still hasn’t offered me anything past his first name or asked for mine, steers me forward with his hand on the small of my back.
I touch you. You don’t touch me.
With mirrored shades on, he speaks low into his phone and next, an agent escorts us to an express lane in LAX customs.
We whisk through in record time and step outside the airport where a sleek, black limo awaits.
Balor opens the door for me but before I can get in, he puts an arm out to stop me. “We’re clear about what will happen when we reach the hotel?”
“Absolutely,” I say, hiding my nervousness.
“You understand I’ll be paying you for your company? This isn’t a date.”
Sleeping with me is a business transaction, and he’s making sure to not give me the impression that he’s swept away with emotion or excitement.
I flick my gaze at the mirrored lenses, aiming to look him directly in the eye. “Will that make you fuck me harder?”
“Get in,” he growls.
I’ve only been in a stretch limo once for prom with eight other kids. I duck inside and scoot across the rear bench closer to the other door.
Anticipation flickers in my chest. And foolishness, when Balor lowers into the bench seat smooth as a panther.
He closes the door himself and glances around looking for me. “There you are.” His low drawl sets the tone, his intention clear.
“Here I am.” If this were a date, I would expect to be kissed.
Looking at those lips, I’m tempted to knock a few hundred, or heck, a thousand off my fee, if he would agree to it.
“Lean against the door and spread your legs.” When I hesitate, his eyes darken. “Problem?”
“No. I thought we’d wait until we reached the hotel.”
“We only have a few hours, and the things I want to do to you can take days. Now open your legs. I want to taste you.”
I glance at the raised partition between us then lift my leg. Balor grabs my foot to direct my leg to the back of the bench seat. When I’m open wide to him, he kneels on the floor between my thighs. I emit a quick squeal of surprise when his warm hands sear the skin of my thighs as he yanks me towards him, tipping my hips provocatively.
With a quick flick of his wrist, he tears off my panties.
“These stay off and you’re not getting them back.” He burrows his nose into the lace fabric and inhales deeply. “Fucking sexy.”
“Keeping the panties costs more.” I wiggle, getting even more wet watching him.
“Looks like I’m starting a tab.” He stows the panties in the inner pocket of his jacket. “Just so we’re clear. You and this cunt are mine until we reach New York. I’m the only one touching you until then.”
As if I’d turn tricks in the airline bathroom .
“Touching?”
“You’re being a brat,” he says through clenched teeth. “I like that.”
Without another word, he lowers his face to my sex and runs his tongue along the entire length.
“Oh, God.” I grip the back of the seat.
“I’ll make you scream so loud he just might hear you.” He grips my ass hard and goes at me with his tongue. His pace is unrelenting, devouring me like I’m the first or last pussy he’ll ever lick. “Fuck. This cunt tastes sinful.”
The flicking of his tongue against my clit has me dazed, but I jump when he slides a finger inside me.
“Yes, right there,” I whimper.
“Christ, this is tight. Who the hell are you fucking?” He works me with one finger, then two. “I need you to come. I want you dripping down your thigh when I throw you onto the bed.”
With his fingers pumping in and out of me, it takes just a few more sucks and licks before I feel the beginnings of an orgasm.
My muscles throb, and knowing I can’t cry out like I want to, I grab his head instead, my nails gently grazing against his scalp. “That’s so good.”
“Jesus,” he groans, ignoring that I grabbed him. “I can’t wait to feel this tight cunt pulse around my cock.”
He licks me through my powerful orgasm. I spread my legs wider, and let him continue to feast on me.
The limo stops and Balor looks up, his chin shiny with my arousal.
“Good timing.” He roughly tugs down my skirt. “You’re mine. No one fucking sees what’s mine. I like that you don’t dress like a cheap whore. You’re classy. I really like that.”
“I like that you like it.” I sit up and try to gather my sanity .
Coming in hot, he brushes his lips against my ear. “Tell me you’re mine.”
“I’m yours.”
“Now close those fucking legs.”
The dirty talk and rough demands get me excited all over again.
The limo door opens, and I tug my skirt out of my ass crack. The driver leers at me and irritation spreads across Balor’s face. Surprisingly, he doesn’t give the driver shit.
He’s clearly wealthy and no stranger to limo drivers, but I appreciate how he keeps his cool.
In the lobby, Balor flags down a woman in a uniform holding an iPad and wearing a headset.
“Wait right here. Do not move,” he commands me.
I suspect he doesn’t want me to overhear his last name.
He slips the horn-rimmed glasses back on, and the woman clutches her chest as she checks Balor in. After a few nods, he signs the iPad with a stylus and she hands him keycards.
She motions left, but he crooks a finger toward me first.
I feel judged when the woman eyes me, and for the first time, I don’t like this game we’re playing. But Balor and I still have to sit next to each other for the long flight to New York. Backing out would make it a horribly awkward slog across the country.
I dismiss the look and square my shoulders. I’ve already come this far and I want, no need, this sexy man to fuck me.
As I move toward Balor, I decide I don’t care about the money. I don’t intend to take it. The next few hours will get me over an emotional hurdle.
This fantasy is what I need to start a new chapter of my life after what I went through with my ex. A chapter where I’m not afraid of a man touching me.
We get into the elevator and he cages me against the wall. His hands stay on the satin wood and not me. His green eyes give meaning to the word emerald.
When I look away, he barks, “Eyes on me.”
I flick my gaze back to meet his, a twinge of exhaustion flooding me. But I hide it.
“Who do you belong to?” he whispers.
“You.”
“Who owns you?”
“You.” My thighs clench at his visceral tone.
“You, what?”
“You, sir,” I purr.
The elevator door opens and he gestures for me to step out first. He carries both his duffle and my bag with one hand and takes my hand with the other. It’s a surprising gesture that feels instinctive. The sensation of his warm palm intimately brushing against mine startles me.
He keys into a room at the end of the hall. My jaw drops, taking in a luxury suite.
“Go into the bedroom, get naked, and lay face down on the bed.” Balor tosses our bags on the living room sofa.
Right, he only takes women from behind. Picturing getting railed that way heats me all over.
I flick the ties on my wrap dress, taking in his fiery gaze. “Repeat that?”
“Brats get fucked harder.”
With my dress open, I hold back a smile, twirl the tie, and dance into the bedroom saying, “Promise?”
Inside, I don’t get anywhere near the bed, when Balor comes up behind me, roughly pulling the dress off. The fabric turns into a makeshift rope, which he uses to bind my hands together.
“Remember the rules, I touch you,” he whispers to me from behind. “You don’t touch me. You touched my head in the limo. I let that slide.”
“I like touching you. And you liked it, too. Don’t be so...” I push my ass into his groin, startled at the thick pipe in his pants. “Rigid.”
“I like you. Okay. I’ll play your game.” He shucks the dress away and closes his hands around my waist. “Put your arms up and back around my neck.”
I reach behind and grip his shoulders as I grind some more against his erection. Good Lord, the size of it.
“I want you naked.” He unclasps my bra and tosses it across the room.
I’m completely naked. And he’s fully dressed.
That’s when things get crazy...