20. Chapter Twenty – Lily
Lily
Even though our flight is only at eleven, I am far from well-rested when we leave the hotel a few hours before that.
The fact that last night was our last together manifested in many ways, especially with both of us trying to make the most of it.
Even when we fell asleep, every few hours one of us would wake up. In my case, restless, spending the time awake just staring at him, trying to burn the image of his sleeping face into my memories.
In Adam's case, well, still restless, but also horny as fuck.
When he woke up, so would I, because he couldn’t keep his hands to himself and he was very determined to try out all the toys he got at the store. Apart from the cock-casting one though. I have no ideas what his plans are for that, and to be honest, I don’t want to know .
Long story short: We tried them all, and we fucked a lot. It's a wonder I can walk today, really. I do feel a bit sore, though.
"Are you okay?" Adam asks, a proud grin on his face as he sees me struggle to heave my suitcases into the taxi. When I glare at him, he hurries to help me out.
"As okay as I can be," I say truthfully and force my mouth into a smile. "You're trouble, you know?"
He shakes his head at me before he closes the trunk, then opens the car door, grinning when I grimace as I climb into the taxi.
I'm getting a mad déjà vu to our trip here. Only this time, I'm not as stressed. Still tired, though, but the good kind of tired, not the God, if I blink, I'm gonna fall asleep kind of tired.
I watch him as he gets into the taxi as well, the impending doom that’s been clawing at my mind making the hair on my neck stand up. This is the end.
And then there’s the issue of having to fly. A perfect combination of shitty feelings to start my day. Swallowing down the emotion and anxiety suddenly building in my throat, I look out of my window, trying to calm down and not start to cry in front of him.
Closing my eyes, I focus on my breath as he exchanges quick pleasantries with the driver. When we come to a stop at the first light, I scoot over into the middle seat, buckle myself in, and leave my head on his shoulder, biting my lip hard to keep my emotions at bay .
"You can close your eyes for a bit," he says softly, immediately snaking his arm around my shoulder so I can snuggle into his side better. I nod against his shoulder before I do just that.
I'm never going to get used to flying on a private jet and the fanciness associated with it. I’m never sure if I like it more or less than flying commercial – more because it’s comfortable and I usually either have the whole plane to myself or share it with friends, which makes trying to stay calm a whole lot easier.
Then again, when turbulences hit, they hit small planes a lot harder than a commercial one.
A man who looks like he could play a spy in some action movie waits for us in the entrance hall of the airport, quickly catching up to us as we walk in. After a short greeting and confirmation of our identities, he guides us to a hidden, special security screening.
“This is so much better than having to wait in line for an hour and then hurrying to put your stuff on the belt, then taking it off even quicker, with the fury and impatience of all of the impatient travelers behind you directed at your back,” I tell Adam in a hushed voice, and he nods with a chuckle.
"Definitely my preferred way of traveling as well," he admits with a grin.
I mean, whose wouldn't it be? It doesn’t even take us ten minutes through security, even though their checks are way more thorough, and there is no one else in front of us at the passport check.
Twenty minutes after walking through the sliding doors of the airport, we’re ready to go.
And the man, whose name I learned just now is Ben, guides us down to the field and then points for us to climb into another taxi.
"I could get used to this treatment," I tell Adam with a grin tugging at my lips. "I feel so important."
"Important or rich?" he asks curiously raises his eyebrow. "That's a very important difference."
"Well, you're right – rich," I admit, watching through the window as we leave the airport far behind us. "You're the important one here; it's your jet after all."
"My company's jet," he clarifies, and I roll my eyes.
"You own the company, Adam. Same, same."
"Tell that to my brothers who always demand to borrow it. I don’t even know where they need to go half of the time, but I'm lucky if I can get this thing to myself."
“Wow, my sympathy, what a problem to have,” I tease him, sticking out my tongue at him when I see him roll his eyes at me. "You're close with your brothers, right?"
"Sometimes we are, sometimes we aren’t," he says cryptically, and I decide to drop the topic. It seems to be a sensitive one. “How about you? Do you have siblings?”
"One brother," I tell him. “And I find that more than enough.”
"Older or younger?"
"He's two years older than me. Already married and trying for a kid now. I feel like I get along better with his wife than him nowadays. He works so much, I barely get to talk to him." I look out of the window, watching as a plane lifts off the ground. "We're definitely not as close as we used to be, but I guess that just comes with growing up."
"Right," Adam says, and I can see him visibly gulp. Was that the wrong thing to say?
Both of us trail after our own thoughts, until minutes later the taxi stops in front of what I assume is his private jet. My suspicions are confirmed when Adam opens the door on his side and I follow suit.
It looks fancy, even from the outside. Squeaky clean, the white of its exterior almost blinding us. No comparison to commercial machines and their taped wings and dirty windows.
It looks like they just polished it, just for us, even though we won’t even see it from inside. Such a rich people thing to do.
"Yes, this is… my company’s jet." I can tell he wanted to say "me," but changed it at the last moment. "Come on."
He motions for me to walk ahead, and I grin, putting a little bit of extra sway into my hips as I climb the steps.
"Hi there. I'm Wesley, and I'm going to be your pilot today," a man wearing a pilot uniform greets me with an outstretched hand once I reach the top of the stairs .
"Nice to meet you," I tell him, surprised, and shake his hand. I didn’t expect someone to jump me as soon as I enter the plane, but I feel a bit better about flying now that I actually know who’s in the cockpit.
Good thing he looks trustworthy. So does his co-pilot, Ben.
It's such a different feeling to actually know who's going to be flying us, compared to the commercial flights where you only hear a voice that's barely understandable. Even with Millie’s and Kayla’s jet, I can’t remember ever getting a pilot introduction, and it really shows the difference between Croney and Siren’s Talent.
"Hi, Wesley, how are the kids?" Adam greets him, and they shake hands and clasp each other's shoulders like they're old friends.
Meanwhile, I walk further inside the plane, taking everything in. Everything is adorned in beige upholstery and polished wood. Very fancy.
So this is the machine I could die in if anything goes wrong in the next sixteen hours? Suddenly, a woman appears from the back of the plane and introduces herself as Miranda, our stewardess for the flight.
"You've got your own stewardess?" I hiss at him as we sit down. "Holy fuck, you’re rich , rich."
"Trust me, it's always better to have someone on board who knows what they're doing," Adam scolds me playfully, and I shake my head at him ignoring the ‘rich’ comment .
"It just seems unnecessarily fancy, you know?" I tell him, but he shakes his head.
"You say that until she's the only one who knows how to heat up the kind of meals you're allowed to take on planes with you. It’s not like we could just have a regular old microwave installed in this thing," he points out, and I hate to admit it, but he's right. I never even thought about that.
“Do you need another security demonstration?” Adam asks me with a chuckle, and I shake my head.
“If the plane goes down, I’ll die. I’m not ‘only survivor needs to be rescued’ material, so I’m good.”
“You’re…” Adam says, amusement written all over his face as he shakes his head at me.
Wesley makes our departure announcement over the intercom, and we buckle in and only minutes later, the plane starts to move already. I gulp. It’s already a lot more bumpy than a commercial plane.
But there’s no waiting for a hundred other people to be seated and have their luggage stowed away, no waiting for the starting lane to clear or whatever other excuses they give.
God, I love this.
Miranda still gives us a quick security demonstration that mainly consists of her showing us the emergency exits and where the vests are stowed. Then she walks to the front of the plane, buckles herself in, and just like that, we start .
It is way more turbulent than flying in the big planes. I can feel every single bump on the road and every single hole in the air that makes the plane buck.
"Holy shit." I dig my fingers into Adam's arm, and he chuckles, reaching for my hand and pulling it into his lap, drawing calm circles on the back of it with his thumb.
"It's all right," he assures me in a calming voice. "Once we're in the air, it's going to get better."
"It better," I press out, my whole body rigid and a silent scream falling from my lips when the plane dips to the right, "because otherwise, I really need one of those barf bags."
It takes quite some time until we reach altitude, and it’s a bumpy way there. It takes all of my willpower to not freak out and keep a panic attack at bay. Somehow, I manage. But once the flight turns calmer, exhaustion washes over me, and I hide a yawn behind my hand.
"Do you want to go to the bedroom?" Adam asks, worry written all over his face, and I look at him with wide eyes.
"The bedroom?" He has a fucking bedroom in here?
"Yeah." He grins at the shocked expression on my face. "You can go and take a nap. Come on, get up. I'll show you."
The both of us unbuckle and get up, and he walks further to the back of the plane. I follow him, holding onto the back of his shirt as the plane sways. God, I feel drunk.
I thought the only thing in the back would be a bathroom and maybe some shelves with essentials. But he reveals not only a bedroom but also another one that looks kind of like an office. A very small one, granted, and the chair doesn’t look comfortable at all, but an office nonetheless.
"Here." He holds the door to the bedroom open for me.
Calling it a bedroom is a bit of a stretch. Then again, it’s a room that literally consist of a bed and bit of space at its sides that’s not bigger than my hand, barely enough to get into the room. There are some weird constructions to the side that look like they could have belonged into that BDSM themed room, but which I assume are for buckling ourselves into the bed when it gets turbulent.
"Are you going to take a nap with me?" I raise my eyebrow at him when I realize that he’s already shrugging off his jacket and starting to unbutton his shirt.
"Oh definitely. Remember, I didn’t get any more sleep than you." My eyes dart between him and the front of the plane, but he waves me off. “Relax. Wesley and Miranda are discreet.
"Ok. Good."
I hide another yawn behind my hand and then just fall onto the bed before I crawl further up until my head hits the pillow. It takes a bit of scooting around until we find a comfortable position, but finally we lay with him sideways, his arm outstretched for me to rest my head on, and I snuggle in more than willingly.
"I'm going to miss this," I tell him, my eyes transfixed on his throat right in front of my face .
"Me too," he admits softly and puts his other arm around me to pull me closer to him. I yelp when the plane has a small turbulence, making him chuckle against my hair.
"I wish things were different," he mumbles against the top of my head, and I nod.
"Me too." I gulp before I add more quietly, “I’m sorry.”
I’m not sure he’s heard it, because there isn’t an answer. Instead, the both of us lay awake, both knowing that the other one's not asleep yet.
I hate this.
I hate knowing that as soon as the wheels of this plane touch the ground, I'm going to have to act like all he is to me is the CEO of a rival company.
Not the guy who rocked my world in Japan. Not the guy who gave me the sweetest kiss in my favorite amusement park, the kind of kiss that I'd dreamed of ever since I was a child, hoping to find my prince charming one day.
The guy who makes shopping for sex toys a fun adventure and goes along with my more or less stupid ideas. The guy who is up for anything I throw at him and spins it into an adventure.
I was thinking of having one of the pictures of him at the maid cafe framed, but what’s the point? I won't ever be able to hang it anywhere because nobody can know.
Tears spring into my eyes, and I snuggle further in, burying my face in his shirt to hide them, forcing my breaths to remain calm .
His arm tightens around me, and his thumb starts to draw a soothing pattern onto my back. Of course, he’d know.
I hate this. At the same time, I quickly silence the voices screaming I shouldn't have started it in my head. Because if I hadn’t taken the risk, I wouldn’t know what it’s like to date this man.
To be the one he looks at when he comes. To be the one whose hand he reaches for instinctively.
I'm glad I had this time with him. I just wish it could last forever.
I don't even want to fall asleep, even though I can barely form a straight thought, wanting to spend every waking moment that I have left with him.
But sleep overcomes me like a wrecking ball.
I wake up three hours later, feeling like a sledgehammer has had a field day with my skull.
The burning sensation of tears behind my eyes makes my head feel like it’s about to burst. Suddenly, I realize that Adam is awake as well, and his hands are roaming. Namely, over my hips until they reach my ass and give it a tight squeeze that makes me squirm against him. When I look up, I find heated eyes filled with avoidance looking back at me.
"Want to join the mile-high club?" His deep rumbling, sleepy voice doesn't fail to send a shiver down my spine .
I take a moment to look at him. Melancholy is written all over his face, just like I’m sure it is on mine. Then I nod.
Yeah. Yeah, I do. I mean, when else am I going to get the chance to? When I fly with our company jet, namely Kayla and Millie’s, while one of them is inevitable in there as well? No thank you.
I might not ever get another chance to do this, much less with him.
He grins and sits up, unceremoniously taking off his shirt and shimmying out of his pants, then reaching for me to help me do the same.
"Oh God." I see my eyes jumping to the door as I suddenly remember that we are not alone on this plane. "Are we sure she's not going to come in here at any point?"
"No, she's not," he assures me with a grin. "She’s been flying for us so long… Trust me, she knows better. And in the rare event she needs anything, she’ll knock."
Relief washes over me, and I relax again. "That’s good then."
Adam starts kissing a trail down my throat. A hungry hum comes from his throat when he reaches my breasts.
"Fuck, I’m going to miss this," he mumbles against it.
I'm just about to quip about being objectified when the words get stuck in my throat as he closes his lips around my nipple and gives it a hard suck.
"Fuck yeah,” I moan, burying my hands in his hair. “I’m going to miss this too. "
They’re definitely my erogenous zone, and I can't say I've ever slept with someone who found as much joy in that as Adam does.
"Calm down, Adam," I tell him after he’s played with them a fair bit and push his head away. "They are sore from yesterday.”
Those vibrating stars were a wonderful find from him. I think both him and me can agree on that. But holy fuck, are my nipples not used to their vibrations. Even now they are so sensitive, so overstimulated that the way his beard scratches at them almost hurts.
“But I want to kiss them better." He grins, but I continue to push his head further down. A happy hum leaves his lips when he realizes where I want him, and without a complaint, his face disappears between my legs-
My hand flies to my mouth and I press it against my mouth in an attempt to stifle a moan as his tongue finds my clit, sending sparks through my whole body.
"Fuck," I curse under my breath, and he grins up at me. I don’t even know how I have another climax in me at this point, but I’m sure he’ll make me come anyways.
"Right," he says amusedly and winks at me. "Just so you know, Wesley, Ben and Miranda might be at the front of the plane, but let me tell you, this thing is very far from soundproof."
His tongue darts over his lip before he leans back down. "Better keep quiet. "
"You’re a monster," I hiss and press my hand against my mouth as a moan threatens to escape while he pushes two fingers inside me as his tongue circles my clit.
"Monster," I repeat, then bite my lip as he thrusts his fingers inside me.
He looks up, catches my gaze, then grins at me. "If I were a monster, I would have one of those tentacle dicks. So I’d say I’m good."
"You’re talking way too much," I scold him, my hand running through his hair, then fisting it to push his face to my pussy.
"And you’re still way too coherent," he quips right back and then buries his face in my pussy.
It doesn’t take long until the first orgasm rocks through me, making me feel like I’m flying. And I mean, I’m in the air so I definitely am, but it makes me feel like I’m levitating by myself, not with the help of the big metal machine that I momentarily completely forgot we’re in.
"So beautiful," he mutters under his breath, then positions himself at my entrance before he pushes in.
This is different from all the other times we've had sex. The other times were rushed, playful, a fun little game.
But this? This feels more fundamental, more emotional.
His lips find mine, and I moan into his mouth as he thrusts into me slowly, like he doesn’t want it to end. Like the longer he takes, the longer we can evade facing reality .
My fingers find his shoulder blades, nails digging into the hard muscles, so hard I’m afraid to have broken his skin, not wanting to let him go.
The pressure in my core rises gradually, but I don’t want to come yet. I don’t want this to end.
I break the kiss and start biting my lip instead.
"So fucking gorgeous," he leans down and whispers right next to my ear, his breath on my skin making me shiver. "Come on, Beautiful. Come for me."
I want to scream that I don't want to. I want to tell him to stop, but all I can manage is a stifled moan as I break apart around him.
"That’s it." His voice is strained, and I know he’s almost there as well.
"I’m going to come inside you and you’ll take every fucking last drop. And when you’re at home, feeling me drip out of you, you’re going to remember me."
Joke’s on him because I’m going to remember him anyways, but I bite my lip and keep my mouth shut and nod solemnly.
"So how are you going to remember me?" I quip back and raise my eyebrow at him.
"Trust me, I will," he says breathlessly, and then his whole body goes rigid, and I feel his warmth spreading inside me, his heavy breath warm against my throat and his body collapsing on mine.
Yeah, I’m definitely going to remember him.
There’s no way I couldn’t .
As much as I hate flying, I find myself hoping that this flight never ends.
But of course, good things don’t last.
We fall asleep with our limbs intertwined and wake up to the announcement from Wesley that we have ten minutes left until we land and need to get ready to buckle in.