Page 57 of In Flight

It’s really working for me. I’ve been squirming and making helpless whimpers that have been increasing in volume for several minutes. Occasionally Isaac will lift his head to look at me with pleased, smug amusement, and his open enjoyment of my responses is almost as heady as the sensations.

Almost.

He glances up again, his stubble glistening with moisture, and despite how close I am to coming, I’m compelled to give him an eye roll. “Stop gloating.”

He chuckles as he gets backs to work, and the vibrations from his laughter and his skillful sucking of my clit are all it takes to send me over the edge.

I’ve never considered myself a particularly loud person in bed, but the shock wave of pleasure is too overwhelming to control my volume. I try to smother my cry with my hand as I shake through the pulses of release. Hot satisfaction saturates me from head to toe as I slowly come down, sprawled limply with my thighs splayed and my hair spread out all over the pillow and my face.

Isaac is still shaking with lingering amusement and grinning widely as he straightens up onto his knees.

“Thank you,” I say. “Not that you deserve it when you’re looking so obnoxiously pleased with yourself, but still. Come up here and I’ll do something for you.” I reach up, trying to get hold of him so I can pull him down on top of me.

He comes willingly, but as I wrap my arms around him, he murmurs dryly, “Uh, I’m already taken care of.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I’m already taken care of.”

I squeeze my hands between our bodies so I can check, and I discover that he’s soft and sated. No longer erect.

I massage him gently there, but I’m giggling at the same time.

“No need for mockery.” He’s doing a good job maintaining his sardonic tone, but his body betrays his warm satisfaction. He’s smiling and relaxed and cuddly as he gets more comfortable on top of me and nuzzles the crook of my neck.

He’s every bit as happy as I am right now.

“I wasn’t mocking.” I try to sound as cool as he does but fail utterly. I can’t hold back my laughter.

“You were laughing at my lack of control.”

“I don’t give a damn about your lack of control. In fact, I kind of like the fact that you come when I do. It makes me feel special.”

“You are special.” He presses a few sweet kisses against my pulse point. “I may never have been some kind of sex god, but I could usually control myself before you.”

“You control yourself just fine.” I’m stroking his bare back and ass with delicious entitlement. Like this man and all his warm flesh and firm muscle and sharp intellect and deep heart are mine.

Mine.

“I could do better.”

“Not as far as I’m concerned. After all, I got a couple of mind-blowing orgasms before six o’clock in the morning. How many women are that lucky?”

“Some women might want to be asleep at six in the morning.”

“Well, that’s their loss. The orgasms were much better.”

He kisses my throat, then adjusts and kisses my mouth. “Shit, I need to get going so I can shower and dress before work.”

“I know. You weren’t actually supposed to spend the night last night.”

We flew back from Boston like normal and then headed straight to my place, the two-day separation over the weekend too much for us to wait any longer. He mentioned leaving later in the night so he wouldn’t have to rush before work, but he fell asleep instead.

So here we are. About to part ways again on a Monday morning.

He sits on the edge of the bed, rubbing his face and smoothing his wildly rumpled hair. Not that the smoothing helps. It springs right back up into chaotic kinks and waves. “Okay,” he says. “I’m getting up.”

I wait. “I don’t see much getting up happening.”

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