His Contracted Temptation; Velvet Lies

~PLEASURE IN THE SKY ~

I sob. “Please don’t do this.

Mom, help me. Don’t let him hurt me.”

“No, don’t touch me!”

“No, no—no!”

I wake up to my phone’s alarm, reminding me it’s time to go back to New York. And back home.

These nightmares are getting worse, even during afternoon naps. Ugh. This is not good.

I quickly touch up my face and get ready for a flight with a client.

---

When I get to the jet, I slip into work mode, but my mind keeps drifting back to the nightmares I’ve been having. And I know the only things that make me feel better are sex and alcohol.

My phone rings. It’s a video call from my best friend, Cassie.

“Bitch, you’re chilling while I’ve been seeing your posts all over social media,” I say.

“You can say that again,” she whispers, then flips her camera. “I’m hooking up with a hot guy, and it’s going to be a long night.”

“Ugh, I wish I were you right now, but I gotta go. The client is here, and it’s time to fly. Talk later,” I say, hanging up the phone.

Our client, Alexander, stares like a predator as he walks past me, and I greet him without taking my eyes off him.

*********

Twenty minutes into the flight, he slips into my cabin, teasing, charming, trying to turn it into a game. But I’m not playing. I’m desperate for escape, for pleasure, for anything that will silence my mind.

I slip a condom into his hand, the foil crinkling under my thumb. "I’m a busy woman. Don't waste my time."

I raise my uniform skirt up around my waist and straddle him, the billionaire mogul who owns this jet.

His strong hands grip my hips, pulling me down onto his thick cock. I bite my lip hard, feeling the intense stretch as my pussy swallows him inch by inch, slick and ready from the heated stares we shared during takeoff.

'Fuck, you're so tight,' he groans, his voice low and demanding, his eyes burning into mine. I gasp sharply, my nails digging into his broad shoulders through his unbuttoned shirt, a sudden jolt of turbulence rocking us and adding an edge to our connection.

I start riding him fiercely, my ass slapping against his thighs with every downward plunge.

The leather seat creaks under us as I grind my clit against his pelvis, the friction sending sparks through my core and making my inner walls clench tight around his dick.

He thrusts up to meet me, his cock driving deep, slamming against my cervix with a sharp, delicious ache that makes me whimper.

'Harder, bitch. Prove how badly you want my dick,' he commands, one hand sliding up to squeeze my boobs roughly, his thumb flicking my hardened nipple through the thin blouse fabric.

Sweat beads on my skin as I bounce faster, my pussy dripping wet down his length, soaking his balls completely. The jet dips again, and I yelp, the motion forcing him even deeper inside me.

Alexander sits up abruptly, capturing my mouth in a brutal kiss, his tongue thrusting in as he sucks hard on my lower lip.

His other hand smacks my ass with a sharp crack, the sting making me squeeze him tighter. 'That's it, milk my cock dry,' he murmurs hotly against my neck, teeth nipping the sensitive flesh.

He growls my name as he pumps thick ropes of cum deep into me, he withdraws with agonizing slowness, leaving a hollow ache in his wake. It isn't enough. It’s nowhere near enough to silence the noise in my head.

Ugh , I hadn’t met a man who could make me cum so hard.

I pull my skirt down while his breath comes in ragged gasps, the jet's engines droning on as our afterglow lingers. But when the pilot's voice crackles over the intercom, I know this flight has only just begun.

*****

After a long day of questionable decisions and a flight that left me feeling wrung out, I’m back home with Snow—my dramatic, blue-eyed cat who is currently judging my entire existence.

I’m officially over it, over the stress, over the subpar hook-ups, and over the fact that no man seems to know what he’s doing.

The final straw? An empty fridge.

I drag my exhausted self to the supermarket with Snow perched in my arms like a fluffy marshmallow. While reaching for pasta sauce, my grip slips, but before the jar can shatter, a pair of large, capable hands snatches it out of the air.

He’s got that bad boy attractive vibe, messy hair, and eyes that seem to read my mind. Even Snow, who usually hates everyone, is suddenly purring in his arms. Traitor.

He introduces himself as Sam. The chemistry is electric, and for the first time in a long time, I’m actually intrigued. I take a gamble and invite him over for dinner. As he takes my number with a slow, dangerous smile, I have a feeling the questionable decisions for the day aren't over yet, and I'm perfectly okay with that.