Page 94 of Fly Boy
“This is November-Three-Niner-Juliet-Lima requesting a slot for take-off.”
“Next available time is nineteen-twenty.” I glance at my watch. Next available slot is in forty minutes. “Would you want me to put in a ready message?”
I turn around and peer back into the cabin at Pippa with her legs thrown over the armrest, flicking through her phone.
“No. I’ll wait.” Now I’ve made up my mind; there’s no way I want our time moved up should a slot become available.
Throwing off my headset, I stand, marching down the aisle, hauling Pippa into my arms as she cries out, “Wyatt, what the hell?”
Carrying her down the back of the plane, I flip her onto the bed and pull my wallet out of my pocket, sliding out the condom I carry in there and tossing it next to her.
“I thought I was a brat for wanting this?” she asks, pushing herself up to rest on her elbows, her eyes wide as I unbuckle my belt.
“You still are,” I say, flicking my pants button and pulling down the zipper. The sound of the metal scraping against the teeth as it comes apart is electric, every raspy mechanical rattle heightened by the forbiddenness of what I’m about to do.
“So you’re here to teach me a lesson? Finally ready to tame the brat?”
With little finesse, I tug down her leggings and panties, throwing them over my shoulder, and pulling myself out of my boxer briefs, stroking casually as I pick up the condom, tear it open, and cover my cock in one swift motion.
Grabbing her ankles, I drag her to the edge of the bed, her ass perched on the side as I line myself up. “Baby, I’ve been trying and it’s not working.”
“Then try harder.”
I thrust forward and bottom out as Pippa moans, her back arching off the bed, her fingers digging into the comforter. Her head tips back as she draws her lower lip between her teeth, biting hard. Holding behind her knees, I use her body the way I know she likes. It’s carnal, how she’s naked from the waist down while I’m fully dressed, my belt buckle smacking against the backs of her thighs with every pump of my hips.
“Pippa,” I grind out from behind clenched teeth. “Tell me you like this. Tell me who owns your beautiful pussy.”
Her eyes snap open, my possessive tone exciting her. “Make me.”
Leaning slightly forward, my knees rest on the frame, the wood biting into them as I release one of her legs, moving my hand to wrap around her throat, flexing my grip slightly. “You’re mine, Pippa. Your pussy’s mine. Your ass is mine. The orgasm I know you want”—I slam my hips forward—“belongs to me. Idecideifandwhenyou come. Now tell me…” I snap back, pulling out of her tight heat and tapping her cunt with my hand, hard enough to make her cry out.
“Who owns this pussy?”
“You do,” she pants, bucking upward, her ass lifting off the bed. “Fuck, Wyatt, you. You own me.”
Grinning wildly, I fuck her with abandon, harder and faster, her declaration of ownership making me turn into an animal. Her eyes roll back, her body shifting in time with my thrusts, my hips moving of their own volition.
My eyes flick up to the port-hole-like windows lining the plane, and the reflection of a man enthralled in this raw and dirty sex stares back at me. Exhilaration fills my veins, the knowledge that at any moment, someone could see us, the light in the cabin bright a contrast to the darkening sky outside.
“Look at what you do to me,” I rasp, staring down at the debauched image of Pippa flat on her back, eyes blown. “Look at how crazy you make me.”
“Wyatt,” she begs, lifting her arm out. “Kiss me.”
The taste of her arousal is potent as my mouth smashes to hers. My cock is like steel as I piston quicker, bringing a hand to play with her clit. Her lips part in a silent scream, her cheeks stained pink in a telltale sign that she’s close.
“Not yet,” I growl, withdrawing, and she whimpers, cursing me out, but I have her flipped around, her feet on the floor, her legs spread wide as I enter her from behind.
My arm laces up her front, my hand collaring her throat again as I pull her up so she’s flush against my chest. My other hand moves back to her clit, stroking, circling, pinching frantically as I chase after her to the brink of pleasure.
“Watch yourself in the window, Pippa,” I command, watching our reflections through the glass. “Watch when you come all over your pilot's cock.”
She detonates, my words the trigger to send her careening over the edge, her tight little cunt squeezing me in its vice-like grip, taking me with her.
“Yes, baby,” I groan into her ear. My thrusts become more purposeful as I empty into the condom, wishing I was pumping my release straight into her, painting her walls, marking them as mine. “Milk me, take it all.”
“Wy—Oh god,” she pants, her pussy still spasming as I slip from her body. She flops back onto the bed, a dazed smile on her lips as she watches me tie off the condom. I take it to the bathroom, wrapping it in a tissue before putting it into my pocket. There’s no way I’m discarding it here.
Pippa’s in the same spot I’d left her in a second ago, and I walk over, placing a chaste kiss to her lips, whispering against them, “Looks like I tamed the brat after all.”
