In Flight (Up in the Air #1)(76)

He walked between my parted thighs. He bent and kissed my forehead.

“Exquisite,” he said against my skin, then pulled back.

I writhed, becoming impossibly impatient in my need for his physical contact. He placed a hand on my inner thigh, just shy of my cleft. It was torturous, watching that hand touching just above where I needed it. The flesh beneath his hand quivered.

In a flash, he slapped my other thigh with the paddle just hard enough to sting.

He took a step back, grabbing my wrist and giving the swing a hard shove, sending me spinning in circles until I was dizzy. I gave an embarrassing little scream of surprised distress.

He stopped my spinning with a hand on my wrist, and he was suddenly between my legs, thrusting into me in a smooth but brutal motion. His hands kneaded the flesh of my breast around the nipple clamps firmly. Those were our only two points of contact. Cock to cunt, and hands to br**sts.

He thrust in and out, only a half a dozen slow strokes, before he pulled out of me, stepping back and spinning me again.

He was stepping between my legs as I came to a halt, right onto his well aimed cock. He gave me a longer taste this time before pulling out. My head had just stopped spinning when he whirled me again.

He stopped me with a grip on my ankle this time, and thrust into me harder, working in and out like a jackhammer. He massaged my clit with one hand, the other getting rough with the clamp that held my nipple.

“Come, now,” he ordered, and it worked, as it always did.

I came with a scream, my head thrown back.

He pulled out, flipping me around before my walls were even done clenching in orgasm.

He had me repositioned, face down, ass up, in a blink. He worked in slowly, and I shivered around him, still having little aftershocks.

“Fuck,” he cursed. “Those little clenches are gonna make me come.”

“Yes,” I sobbed. “Come.”

He slapped my ass, thrusting agonizingly slowly inside of me.

“I won’t come until I’ve shown you more of the delights this little swing has to offer.” He wrenched out of me, sending me spinning again.

I whimpered.

He jolted into me hard when I stopped this time, moving with a purpose now. He reached around me, his talented fingers collaborating to bring me to my next release.

I sobbed out his name as I came again.

He flipped me in a flash until my face was only inches from the floor. He began to suck at me with his mouth, the soft contrast to his previous treatment making me beg brokenly. For what, I wasn’t sure.

He pulled his mouth away, and a moment later he was working his stiff c**k into me again. It was a slower process in this position. He had to squeeze in inch by inch. I heard him cursing. I was stuffed so full that I held my breath in alarm at the sensation. He made little rough strokes for only a moment before pulling out.

He rearranged me upright, taking several minutes to suspend me just above him. Our mouthes were on a level for the first time.

He kissed me passionately as he thrust into me, letting loose and thrusting wildly.

I was keening in my throat. I couldn’t touch him with my restraints, but he touched me.

His hands were everywhere, caressing and pinching and soothing with incredible skill.

“Fucking come,” he said between gritted teeth, as his head fell back with his own release.

It was mesmerizing to watch him lose it like that, and so my eyes never left him as I came at his command. I moaned his name.

“Fuck, f**k, f**k,” he cursed, again and again, as he poured into me.

He unfastened me masterfully and cradled me in his arms. He carried me to an oversized bed in the corner. He laid me on top of the spread, sprawling at my side.

I saw that he was completely naked, a fact that I had somehow overlooked before.

He must have stripped out of his pants while I was spinning, my dazed mind noted.

He removed my nipple clamps, sucking gently at the red flesh. He took his time, giving equal attention to each abused nipple. After long moments of drawing on them with special focus, he straightened to study my face.

He loomed over me, a hand pressed flat to my lower belly, just watching my face for long minutes. He kissed my forehead. He seemed to be waiting for something.

I asked him what.

“I was waiting to see if you were falling asleep. Are you in the mood for an information exchange?”

I stretched, feeling languid and exhausted, but strangely, I was far from sleep. I thought about his question. It was strange, but the thought of answering his questions wasn’t troubling to me at that moment. I supposed a half a dozen orgasms had something to do with that. I figured he probably knew that. He was far more familiar with post-coital feelings than I was.

I felt oddly open to him, uncharacteristically free of my usual reserve. I hoped, in a distant kind of way, that this was a temporary insanity, and not yet another symptom of my growing obsession with this man. I gave the little shrug that drove him crazy.

“Fine,” I said, running a hand along the chest that loomed over me. “Ask me something.”

He smiled at me softly, then bit his lip as though he was nervous.

I watched the action in fascination. I’d never seen him do such a thing. James doing anything that vulnerable just didn’t connect in my head.

“I found out what sotnos means. I want to know why a term of endearment became your safe word.”