The Billionaire's Forever (Page 9)

The Billionaire’s Forever (His Submissive #12)(9)
Author: Ava Claire

The metallic clink of the rings being slid to the side and the curtain being parted cut through our staring contest.

The worry I had was being realized.

The flight attendant was in the main cabin.

"Can I–" The flight attendant’s gasp rippled through the cabin and my chest tightened.

I glanced at her and saw the sheer white terror of her complexion. Not disgust, not judgment like I’d expected. Fear.

I looked back at Jacob, who studied me intently. He probably expected me to futilely grip my clothing and clasp it to my na**d body. And that was the first place my mind went. Self-preservation. I was human after all and years of feeling average, less than average even, hadn’t been wiped away despite Jacob’s love and insistence that I was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

The self doubt lied in my subconscious, waiting for moments like this. Moments where I was face to face with the question: Am I really beautiful? Then the whispers of the girls who used to pick on me and the boys that broke my heart came screaming back. They told me I wasn’t someone worthy of Jacob.

Silence reverberated around the room and there was something else that kept me from shrinking away and apologizing for subjecting her to my blinding nakedness. My self doubt was real. The scars I carried would never truly go away. But it wasn’t alone. There was another part of me that felt beautiful. Desirable. Who saw confirmation in the way my guy looked at me.

I sat up straight, proud of the way my body was slick against the cool leather. My curves weren’t something to cover. I was beautiful.

"I think I’m fine for now." I said, answering the question she didn’t quite get out. I pulled my hair from my ponytail, wild and untamed curls bouncing free and tossed it over my shoulder with a confidence I didn’t have to fake. I looked at Jacob, smiling at the way he looked at me. He was impressed. "How about you, sweetheart?"

One side of his mouth tilted upward. "I don’t require a drink."

The attendant hustled away, snapping the curtain closed behind her.

Jacob gestured for me to come to him, his deep voice thick as syrup and just as sweet. "There is something else I require."

I slid into his lap, looping my arms around his neck. "And what’s that?"

"You."

****

This wasn’t happening. I wasn’t 37,000 feet in the air in a private jet, straddling Jacob freaking Whitmore with my nipple between his teeth. Groaning. Begging him not to stop.

And he didn’t.

I braced myself on the chair, feeling every ragged breath he drew. Teeth bared as he gripped the mounds tight, holding them steady as he stroked it with his tongue. Moaning was a given, as natural as breathing as he flicked the swollen nub back and forth before he moaned and the sound rippled through me. I’d given up trying to do anything but focus on the way he made me feel. I didn’t wonder if I was too heavy or if my groans and the sounds of him licking, sucking me were giving the staff an involuntary front row seat to the action. There was only the rhythm of his mouth, lips, and tongue, pulling me closer to coming.

His lips rounded the curve, hovering just above as his words fluttered over my nipple. “Tell me what you were thinking when she came in.”

I frowned. I didn’t want thinking. I wanted this. More of his mouth. I jutted my chest out and he gave me a smile hot and dirty enough to make me come on the spot…and then he gripped my nipple between his fingers and squeezed.

I winced as the pain cut through the haze of lust, sobering me enough to know he meant business. I knew he wanted me. He was swollen and thumping against the fly of his pants, like he could sense me dripping just past the barrier between us. But he was in charge–and he asked me a question.

The longer I waited to respond, the tighter his grip became.

“What was I thinking?” I eked out, tears rushing to my eyes and receding when he released it. “She’s getting the whole shebang and didn’t even take me to dinner first?”

His thick lips twitched with amusement, but his other aquiline features were chiseled stone.

“I was nervous, but then I…” I trailed off, eyes rolling back in my head as the hand that rounded my bottom spread my cheeks and a single finger slid in the space between. At the moment, I wasn’t even thinking clearly. I was lost in the wet sounds of my desire filling the silence.

“Then you what?” he said softly, eyes hot and heavy.

I almost whined in frustration. More than anything I just wanted him. “Then I just said f**k it.” I emphasized the F word and felt him move with approval. “I just didn’t care if she saw me. All that mattered was if you saw me.”

He swiped his tongue over his bottom lip just as he pushed a finger inside me. I swore it was like he was in my skin, knowing exactly where to press, just the right way to pump to make me spiral to ecstasy. I fought the urge to close my eyes and savor the moment, the desire to gaze into the depths of his blue eyes. His next words made the choice simple. My eyes fluttered open and met his, feeling the tingles of love race over every part of me.

“I see you Leila. You possessed me from the moment we met.” He lowered his voice to the deep, sexy, bedroom timbre that was for me and me alone. “I want to watch your eyes roll back in your head while I make you come with my hands. I want to hear every note of the moans that fall from your lips as I take you against the door, then the bed, the floor. I want to feel your body melt around me. You belong to me, Leila. And I belong to you.”

He was a man of his word, adding a second finger and filling me so deliciously that keeping my eyes on him was impossible. It felt too good, I felt too wild and each pump pushed me to the edge before he twisted, slowed or changed the rhythm and brought me back, dancing on the pin of a needle. He let me catch up, let me feel like I had some semblance of control before it ratcheted back up and I was huffing, moaning for more even though the pleasure was maddening. He took my breath away, but breathing was irrelevant. This was all that mattered.

“Open your eyes–and come for me.”

My eyelids sprung open and all I could do was feel as I took him in and out. I was the sum of my aching, needy muscles, other ears be damned. Sparks fired from my toes and poured out my mouth in a roar and he was right there, watching me like I was a work of art unfolding before him.

And we weren’t done.

I barely had time to blink or remember that we were on a jet and I’d just come loud enough to be heard several state lines over before he took me by the hand and pulled me toward the back of the cabin.

As soon as he slid the door of the sleeping cabin closed, I was against it. His hands gripped my cheeks as his mouth gripped my lips. His masculine scent surrounded me, aroused me, and instantly I was going blow for blow, clasping him to me, sucking his lips, losing myself in his taste.