Page 120 of Unleashed

“You sound like a controlling asshole.” The words were out before I could stop them.

Slade blinked, hurt flashing across his face, quickly masked by a neutral expression. “I’m not trying to control you, Morgan,” he repeated quietly. “I care about you. I care deeply.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat, guilt pressing down on me. “I know. I do appreciate it, really. But let’s just move on, okay?”

“Fine.” He paused, studying me closely. “Is something bothering you? You’ve been off for weeks. I thought it was just wedding stress, but now… it feels like something else.”

I clenched my hands in my lap, fighting the urge to tell him everything. Michael’s back. But I couldn’t. Not now. “It’s just… things are changing, Slade. I need time to adjust.”

“And I’ll give you that,” he said gently, his voice full of patience. “I’m adjusting too, you know. It’s new for both of us.”

I nodded, my chest tightening with the weight of secrets unspoken. “Can we just forget this whole thing?”

“It’s forgotten,” he said, though the tension between us still lingered.

I reclined my seat, closing my eyes in an attempt to escape the heaviness in the air. Moments later, I felt his hand brush against my cheek, his knuckles grazing my skin in soft, soothing strokes. Despite the knot of guilt in my stomach, the rhythmic motion eased the tension, pulling me toward sleep.

As I drifted off, I wished I could forget Michael Elliott for good. But deep down, I knew he wasn’t just a memory. He was a presence I couldn’t escape, a shadow that loomed over the perfect life I was trying so hard to create.

“We can’t dothis here. There’s no room,” I whispered, my breath hitching as the cramped airplane bathroom seemed to shrink even more around us.

His grin widened, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Haven’t you ever heard of the mile-high club?” he teased, leaning in just enough that his scent, woodsy and masculine, made my pulse race.

I bit my lip, glancing around the tiny, sterile space. “Yes, but this bathroom is like a closet. How do people manage?”

Without a word, his strong hands gripped my hips, lifting me onto the cool stainless steel sink in one swift motion. The metal chilled my thighs as he pulled me to the very edge, his body pressing against mine. I gasped, my hands flying out to brace myself against the walls. They were so close, I felt boxed in, and yet... exhilarated.

“Hold on tight,” he murmured, his voice low and thick with anticipation.

His fingers bunched the fabric of my skirt, pushing it up with a deliberate slowness, making my heart pound louder in my chest. His gaze never left mine as he unzipped his blue slacks, his movements confident, almost predatory. My breath hitched again as his hard length sprang free, the tip swollen and flushed with desire.

He didn’t hesitate. With a rough yank, he wrenched my panties to the side, his touch sending a jolt through my body. And then, without warning, he thrust inside me, hard and deep, filling me completely.

I clamped my eyes shut, overwhelmed by the intensity of it—the feeling of him buried deep inside me in this forbidden, impossibly small space. My fingers pressed into the cold walls for balance as my body reacted on instinct, craving more of him.

“Morgan,” he growled, his forehead pressing against mine. “I’m going to fuck you good and long, but you need to keep yourmoaning to a minimum. Unless you want to give the passengers a show.”

I stifled a moan, my lip caught between my teeth as he began to move, slow at first, teasing me with every thrust. But I couldn’t hold back. The sensation of him pushing deeper, harder, sent shockwaves through me. I knew I wouldn’t be able to stay quiet for long.

His hips pumped steadily, each thrust more demanding than the last. “Oh God, this feels so good,” I gasped, my voice a whisper, barely audible over the hum of the plane.

“I knew you missed me,” he muttered against my lips, his breath hot and ragged.

I opened my mouth to respond, but what came out wasn’t what I expected. “It’s more than missing you. I love you. I never stopped loving you.” The words tumbled out, raw and full of emotion, leaving me vulnerable in a way I hadn’t planned.

His lips crashed into mine, silencing my moan as his pace quickened. My fingers clung to the walls, desperate to hang on as his thrusts sent pleasure radiating through me. I was close—so close—and just when I thought I’d tip over the edge, a sharp voice pierced the fog.

“Morgan?”

I jerked, startled, my eyes flying open. Slade was in his seat, leaning over me with a concerned look on his face. And then I realized—everyone was looking at me.

My face burned with embarrassment. “What happened?” I asked, feigning ignorance, trying to will away the flush creeping up my neck.

“You were dreaming... and moaning,” Slade said, an amused smile tugging at his lips.

I blinked, my pulse still racing as I struggled to pull myself back to reality. “I’m sorry,” I muttered, heat prickling my skin.

He raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “I hope you were dreaming about me.”

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