The ceremony was brief, and soon enough, we were on a private plane to the Saiti, a tropical paradise for our honeymoon. The only explanation he gave was that he had a property there with a killer view, and I couldn't help but wonder if I would survive the trip. His family, whom I met at the wedding, were pleasant enough, but much like Tomas's family, they were reserved and content to let their psychotic breadwinner take the lead. Nobody had said a thing during the ceremony and only offered curt congratulatory messages at the end, and I maintained the silence. It had taken me years to painfully learn how to find comfort in discomfort, and these strangers would watch me die silently to ensure their own survival.
I spent the next hour after boarding scrolling through my feed, trying to keep myself distracted from the fact that I was heading to an unknown location with a psychopath. At the end of the hour, I was too bored, and we still had ten hours before reaching our destination. I got up from my window seat and had to pass by Charles, who was napping; understandable, considering he had planned a whole wedding in two days. I only got as far as lifting one leg to get to the other side of him before his hand shot up, trapping me in an awkward position, straddling him. He took advantage of my shock, pulling me down to him so that I was sitting on his lap, the entire time his eyes remained closed.
Having his handsome face so close to mine had my mind operating in error mode. His molten gold eyes pulled me, and looking lower at his full lips offered no salvation. he swallowed, and my eyes shifted to his Adam's apple, and that small movement released the gates to the floods within me, and I sent a silent prayer to the sweatpants I was wearing, the only reason his pants did not have a slowly forming stain. He slowly brought his face closer to me, angling his lips towards my own. Impatience got the best of me, and I threw caution to the wind, pulling his face to me, crushing his lips against mine.
His lips were soft and had an intangible sweetness to them that had me seeking more. He remained pliant, only his hands tightened around my back, pressing us even closer. I deepened the kiss, and he opened up to me, giving me access to his mouth, head tilted back. My excitement grew with his silent submission, turning my kiss from exploratory to devouring. I filled my mouth with his taste, seeking everything he was willing to give and then some more. He only responded by pulling me closer, tighter, making it hard to breathe, but breathing was not on my priority list. My body's demands finally forced me to break the kiss, and once again I was looking at his enticing eyes, now heavy with passion.
He moved closer, wanting to rejoin our kiss again, the gesture once again surprisingly submissive, a stark difference from his usual disposition. His eyebrows shot up, his lips pouting, begging silently, and once again, I lost my composure. I reclaimed his lips, nudging his head to the side to give me better access, and he willingly complied. Our breaths were labored, struggling to breathe in each other's air. Air from his lungs was filling mine, making it impossible to gather my thoughts. He let out a low, passionate groan. I forced myself to create space between us. We may have been the only passengers aboard the private flight, but there were cabin crew on the plane with us, and there was a bedroom section that was currently empty.
I tried getting up, but he pulled me down and captured my lips. I thought my kiss had been fiery until he kissed me, robbing me of my breath, thoughts, and taking a chunk of my sanity with him. It was as if he was trying to suck my soul through my lips while his hands blazed a fiery trail on my skin. In no time, I was reduced to a groaning mess, and without meaning to, I began humping against him, trying to cool the fire that was getting stocked at my core.
A glass crashing to the floor was my saving grace, causing me to whip around and find myself staring at the most breathtaking woman I had ever seen. The goodness was flustered, having caught us half naked, our shirts having come off at some point, although I had no recollection of it happening. She quickly apologized, excusing herself before I could say anything. I tried calling her back, but Charles turned my head back and captured my lips in one fluid motion. I pushed him back and managed to point at the bedroom door before he crushed our faces together.
He finally got up, supporting my weight. My legs wrapped around his waist, both to anchor me and to minimize any space between us. I had been dreaming of this since the first time I met him at that bar, and my plans had been cut short by Tomas the second time around. I was not going to let anything stop this from happening, not even gold old-fashioned common sense or self-preservation. He laid me gently on the bed and disappeared for a minute before reemerging with leather whips and chains in his hand. Before my lust-riddled mind could even begin to panic, he handed them to me and then knelt at the foot of the bed, looking at me, his request painted in red across his dark face.
"Beg me," I said, taking the situation in stride, exhilarated at my husband's kinks.
"Please, mistress," he said, his voice soft and low and still deep. My heart stuttered while my eyes shook.
"Please, what?" I asked, trying to sound commanding, but my voice had a sexy undertone thickened with lust.
"Punish me, reward me, take me, anything you please. I am all yours."