"Mine," I whispered back, closing my eyes. Her hand was on my stomach, and I wondered if I'd be breaking all of my own rules if she just happened to give me a hand-job in her sleep. In my current condition, a few strokes would do it.
I mentally berated myself for even having the thought.
I moved my thigh against her sex, telling myself that I was just getting comfortable.
She gasped softly and pressed harder against me. In my mind, I was burying my face between her legs and lapping at her core like my life depended on it, but I only allowed myself the fantasy. This was a test of my self-control that I was determined to pass.
She stiffened suddenly rolling away to huddle in on herself. Her breathing became ragged, and not with passion.
She's having a nightmare, I thought.
I wrapped myself around her back as she began to shudder. "Shh, love," I told her soothingly.
What I'd called her shocked me enough that I lay thinking about it for a long time. I'd named her love. I'd never said anything like that to a woman before, but I couldn't make myself regret it. It just felt right to call her that.
She relaxed eventually, her breathing evening out into a more peaceful sleep.
"Yes, love," I told her softly. "Rest."
She'll be the only one resting tonight, I thought wryly.
We suffered a few more close calls that night, as she shifted restlessly in her sleep, sometimes plastering her body to mine, other times facing away, curled in a ball.
She pressed herself to me, hand resting on my stomach again, making me hold my breath. Her breath grew ragged, though sleep still held her, and her hand wandered lower.
I put my hand over hers, gently stilling it.
But then she grunted my name in her sleep, and I let her do as she liked.
At the first touch of her fingers to my hard length, I twitched, a spurt of pre-cum spilling from my tip.
I was panting, but she'd said my name, and I needed to hear it again, so I let her sleeping hand explore me, moving until I'd maneuvered a sneaky thigh between hers, letting her ground against me while she tortured me with her touch.
Wake Up Call: Part One
JAMES
I slid my arm out from under her head, very carefully replacing it with a pillow. I pulled the thin blanket up to her shoulders and got dressed swiftly. It had been a long night, and I hadn't slept, but I wouldn't have done anything differently.
It was four a.m. I had just enough time to get home and get dressed before she woke up.
I sent Clark a text as I slipped out of her room, snagging her key card.
He was waiting at the curb, on top of things as always.
"The apartment," I told him as I slid into the backseat. "And wait at the curb. I'll be in and out."
I saw his brow rise in the rearview as he pulled the car away from the curb. "Going into work this early?" he asked.
"No. Coming back here. I may be flying to Vegas today."
"May be?" he asked. I could hear the smirk in his voice.
"I'm going to get dressed and go back to the hotel. I'll let you know the plan after that."
"You want me to get you a commercial airline ticket?" he asked.
"That sounds like a good idea."
"Do I even need to ask what airline?"
"You do not. Make sure it's the very first flight."
"Am I taking this flight, as well?"
"No. You can fly out this afternoon. Paterson will pick me up. Get some sleep. I know you've been up all night waiting for me."
"Yes, sir. How long will we be in Vegas?"
"I'll let you know when I figure it out."
"I take it you're pretty serious about this girl."
"You could say that, Clark."
"Should I expect a lot of unexpected trips like this for the foreseeable future?"
"That wouldn't be a bad idea. My schedule is going to be very . . . flexible, while I figure this thing out."
"Good to know."
There was virtually no traffic that early in the morning, so Clark was pulling up outside of my building within five minutes. I moved briskly through the lobby and to the elevator. I felt a strange sense of urgency to get back to her, as though she might disappear if I wasn't fast enough. I felt anxious and almost panicked, though I knew it was unreasonable. I'd given myself plenty of time.
I showered and got dressed, grabbing the first suit I saw. I was ready and striding back out of my apartment within thirty minutes.
I stopped at the closest coffee shop, my mind on hangover remedies. I wasn't used to waiting in line, and I found myself tapping a foot impatiently and checking the time. She'd be awake any minute, and I didn't want to miss her.
I made a last minute stop at a drugstore to grab aspirin, feeling silly but unable to stop myself.
I felt a very unfamiliar nervousness course through me as I arrived back at the hotel, unsure of my reception.
I opened her door quietly, but I saw right away that she was already awake.
The bathroom door was slightly ajar, the light on. As I closed the door behind, she peeked her head out. I didn't hesitate to join her inside. She had to be sober by now.
All bets were off.
I handed her the coffee and aspirin, setting two bottles of water on the counter for her. "The pills are for the hangover," I told her. "And the water will help. You're dehydrated." I kept my voice carefully blank, my eyes running over her body.
Fuck, I thought, growing hard in an instant. She may as well have been naked in that damp, clingy slip. She was sober and practically naked. How the fuck was I supposed to keep my hands off her?
She took the pills, drinking most of one of the bottles of water. She took a long drink of her coffee. I watched her throat work, my eyes moving irresistibly to her chest. That obscene slip pulled tight across her breasts. She had a phenomenal rack, her breasts heavy and round, with small, pale pink nipples.
"You went back to your place?" she asked.
I didn't answer, my eyes glued to her body. I could make out just about every delectable inch of her in that joke of a nightgown. She was surprisingly curvy, even her hips rounded just perfectly. In clothes, she looked slender with large breasts. I knew that she was twenty-three, and I couldn't wrap my mind around the idea that a woman who looked like her had made it that long without having sex. Every inch of her was made for sin. I wondered if she was just a technical virgin or a literal one. Had a man ever gotten her off? What had she done? Was she completely inexperienced? I wanted to know everything. But more than anything, I wanted to make her come.
I moved close against her back, my eyes on her chest. With the slightest move, she arched her back, her nipples rubbing against the fabric of that fucking awesome little slip, growing into tight little buds. I was lost.
"I don't want to make you late for work," I murmured to her. "But I need to do something."
I pressed against her back, wanting to moan as my cock rubbed hard into her. I palmed her breasts, kneading firmly, and she moaned, arching into my touch. Her response was perfect, as though her body knew instinctively what I needed from her.
Her eyes fell closed. No, I thought. I need those eyes the most. It was a shocking realization. My subs, as a rule, kept their eyes lowered. It was one of my staunchest rules.
Not anymore, I realized.
All of my fucking rules were about to be broken, and I couldn't bring myself to give a damn.
"Look at me," I snapped.
She obeyed, meeting my eyes. I felt such a sense of relief at her compliance that it made me a little weak. No sub rules for my Bianca. Oh no. She would get her own set of rules. First of all, she would give me those glorious eyes every fucking time she came for me.
"I like this nightgown," I told her idly, still kneading her perfect breasts. "Spread your legs more," I ordered.
She obeyed with no hesitation, and I almost came right then. I wouldn't be training this one, I thought. She may be inexperi
enced, but I thought she just might be training me. I could only hope to be a good enough Dom for such a perfect sub.
I plucked at a tight little nipple with one hand while the other ran along her ribs, stroking along her flat belly and between her legs. She began to squeeze her legs together.
"Open wider," I told her, and she obeyed me again with no hesitation. "I want to pleasure every inch of you," I told her, my voice a little hoarse with need, "but for the moment, I'm just going to make you come. I just need to touch you. Lay your head back against my shoulder."
I moved my hand over her sex, my thumb going directly to her clit, my other fingers brushing over her entrance. My vision blurred a little, and I sucked in a harsh breath as I found her already wet.
"God," I rasped, "a fucking wet virgin. You are too much, Bianca."
I pushed a finger into her and groaned. She was so unbelievably tight that I could hardly stand it. I imagined pushing my cock into that tiny entrance, breaking her hymen, and I came so close to losing it that I forgot where I was for a moment. Control yourself, I told myself firmly, working my finger in very slowly. I stroked her walls, watching her, my thumb still busy on her clit. Her eyes were still glued to mine, glassed over with her passion. I stroked her slowly and thoroughly, grinding my arousal against her back. I slipped a second finger inside of her, and she cried out, arching against me.
Her automatic surrender snapped my mind back to my purpose. "Ask me for it," I ordered, lost in her eyes.
Perfect fucking Bianca didn't hesitate. "Please."
"Say, please, Mr. Cavendish, make me come."
"Please, Mr. Cavendish, make me come."
I pinched her nipple hard, stroking harder. I knew that she would always need at least a touch of pain to attain her pleasure. So fucking perfect.
She came, and I thought that it was the hardest thing I'd ever done to resist taking her right then. I could have bent her over the counter and pounded into her, but I needed the first time to be in my bed. I had such a perfect picture in my head of how her first time needed to be that I would have gone through hell to make it happen. Was going through hell, I thought.
Her eyes glazed over, and she shook with her climax. I was panting with need when her vision finally cleared, and she blinked at me, looking startled. She watched me steadily as I dragged my fingers out of her. Her jaw went a little slack as I raised those fingers to my mouth and licked them clean, loving the taste of her. Mine, I thought, a little savagely.
I grabbed her chin roughly, craning my neck and hers for a deep kiss.
Wake Up Call: Part Two
JAMES
"You are the most perfect fucking thing I've ever seen in my life," I murmured into her mouth.
I'm keeping you, I thought.
Her hand moved suddenly, touching my thigh, obviously on its way to my cock. Fuck, I thought.
I caught her hand, fighting for control. "There's no time. Get dressed," I told her, feeling violent. If I distracted her with pleasure, and made her late for work, I knew she'd avoid me for it. When we weren't caught up in our passion, she was all too willing reject this thing between us. It infuriated me on every level, but there was nothing to be done but work around it. For now . . .
She seemed to come back to herself, moving away from me.
I followed her out of the bathroom, watching her get ready with hungry eyes. She put on her little dress suit of a uniform, with that little tease of a tie.
I was shocked at how quickly she got ready. She was low-maintenance, I was surprised to realize, but she certainly didn't look it. She wasn't wearing a scrap of makeup, and I knew I'd never seen a more beautiful woman.
"That is the hottest fucking flight attendant uniform I've ever seen," I told her as she tucked in her shirt. "That thing should be illegal. I'm going to do some illegal things to you with that little tease of a tie."
Perfect fucking Bianca laughed. My jaw went a little slack at the sight. She was glorious.
"I can do my hair and makeup in the van," she told me with a lovely smile. "Stephan will help me."
She licked her lower lip, waving a hand at me, her eyes going to my crotch. "I still have ten minutes to spare. There has to be something I can do for you. I don't like feeling like I've left you unsatisfied." I didn't think I'd ever been more shocked and pleased by any words in my entire life.
I tried to smile at her, but it was an effort. "You are too perfect," I told her, meaning it to the depths of my soul. "But it's not happening this morning. I'm not coming again until I can be buried inside of you. Preferably for days."
My perfect Bianca only took a step closer, licking her lips.
I sucked in a breath as she suddenly knelt in front of me.
"You could bury yourself somewhere else," she said breathlessly.
She gazed up at me with those breathtaking eyes of hers, her face inches from my cock, but not touching.
I grabbed a handful of her silky hair, feeling covetous and violent and absolutely desperate with need. "Have you done that before?" I asked her. I would punish her if the answer were yes. It was insane, but in my mind every inch of her had always been mine. If she'd given any of it to anyone else, I was determined to show her just how big of a mistake that had been.
She shook her head, licking her lips. I could read in her face that she was sincere. "Like I've told you," she said steadily, "I don't date. I don't do any of this stuff. I don't know what's gotten into me, but you should take me up on the offer before I change my mind."
I couldn't have turned her down to save my life. I ripped my slacks open, and had my cock in her face before she could take another breath.
She blinked at me, her perfect mouth opening wide to latch onto my tip. She sucked at me, her mouth wet and hot. I wanted to ram deep into her throat, but controlled myself.
"Use your hands at the base," I ordered, seeing that she couldn't fit much more than my tip into her mouth.
She obeyed, her delicate hands gripping me. I put my hands over hers, using the moisture from her mouth to lubricate. I showed her how to stroke me at the base.
"Harder," I ordered. "Pull your lips over your teeth and suck harder." She obeyed instantly and perfectly, and I gasped. "Yes, that's perfect, Bianca."
She kept it up, doing exactly as I'd ordered. She was a perfect study. Absolutely perfect, I thought.
"I'm coming," I warned her roughly as my vision went a little hazy, still glued to that rosy mouth on my cock. "If you don't want me to come in your mouth, you should pull back now." I didn't want her to. I wanted so badly for her to keep sucking, but I didn't want to push her too hard.
As though she'd read my mind, she just sucked harder. I was lost, coming in her mouth, losing myself harder than I could ever remember.
I'm keeping you, I thought possessively, pulling her up and hard against me.
I kissed her, my hands pulling roughly at her hair.
After long, drugging moments, I pulled back, glancing at the clock.
"You're late," I told her unsteadily. "We'll talk later. I don't want you to get into trouble. I've seen how important your work ethic is to you."
She just nodded, looking suddenly distant, as though she'd just forgotten everything we'd done together. That look, that distance in her eyes, drove me fucking up the wall crazy.
She was ready to go in swift instants, not looking at me.
I almost lost it on her, the knowledge that she wouldn't hesitate to drop me for good all that kept me from shaking up her composure.
She walked out of that room without looking back. I'd never felt so desperately covetous of anyone or anything in my life.
I straightened my clothing and took a few necessary minutes to compose myself before I followed her.
Her back was to me as I approached her and Stephan in the lobby.
Stephan glanced up as I neared, giving me a tentative smile. Bianca turned, looking comically shocked at my presence. She recovered quickly, though, running her eyes o
ver my body, and when they reached my cock, she licked her lips. It was too much.
I waited for her eyes to meet mine before looking at Stephan and nodding. "Good morning," I told him, keeping my voice as polite as I could manage.
"Morning," he said with a pleasant smile.
I laid my hand at the nape of her neck. Her eyes moved to my cock and my grip tightened. Her gaze shot back up to mine.
"Our Buttercup is a handful, Stephan," I said idly. I was trying out the word 'our.' It went against every instinct I had to share her with another man, but from what I had observed of their relationship, I knew that I would have to share or get nothing at all. At least he was only a friend, and a protective one at that.
Stephan surprised me by laughing. "She is that."
"A fucking perfect handful," I murmured to Bianca.
Stephan laughed harder, not taking offense. "Well, I wouldn't exactly know about that, but I'll take your word for it."
"Walk me to the door, please?" I asked Bianca.
She didn't hesitate, moving with me.
I lowered my hand from her nape as we reached the door.
"I'm going to tie you to my bed and take your hymen," I told her quietly, unable to keep the words to myself, even knowing they would shock her. In fact, saying them because they would. "I can't seem to think about anything else. Tell me when I can see you again."
She swallowed visibly. I watched her lovely throat work. "I'm not sure," she said unsteadily. "I have a twelve hour day tomorrow. We're doing a turn to DC."
"What about today?" I asked, watching her face closely.
She blinked at me. "I'm flying back to Las Vegas."
I nodded and strode away.
BREAKFAST SERVICE
JAMES
I'd barely taken my seat on the plane when she was sweeping out of the galley, drink-laden tray in hand. She didn't even glance at me as she passed. I watched her every move unabashedly, turning to watch her serve the other passengers.
She served a group of loud New Yorkers first. They were loud and boisterous, but fell silent as she moved through the cabin.