The private jet hummed around them like a cocoon...low engine thrum vibrating through the cream leather seats, soft cabin lights dimmed to a warm amber glow. They’d taken off just after dawn; the sky outside the oval windows was still bruised with night, stars fading one by one as the plane climbed toward the Mediterranean.Aria reclined in the wide seat that folded almost flat, a cashmere throw draped loosely over her lap. She wore only Ethan’s white button-down..sleeves rolled to her elbows, the hem brushing the tops of her thighs. No bra, no panties. The shirt smelled like him: cedarwood cologne, clean cotton, the faint musk of last night’s skin. Every time she shifted, the fabric dragged across her still-sensitive nipples, reminding her of his mouth, his fingers, the way he’d unraveled her until she could barely speak.Ethan sat across from her, sleeves pushed up, tie long discarded. He’d been reviewing something on his tablet when they boarded, but the screen had gone dark twe
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