Page 70 of Out of the Gold

And I’m looking directly into passion-laden blues.

“Charles,” I murmur.

His lips tick upward as his fingers play with my nipple beneath my bra. “Yes,” he mouths.

A low moan escapes my lips. I try to push his hands away from my body, but he only brings me closer. Kissing my lips in that way of his, the one that makes me forget everything and everyone around me—including my own name—I trail my hands into his hair.

He pulls away, breathing hard. “Go into the bathroom and don’t lock it.”

I blink. Slowly. Is he actually proposing what I think he is? “You don’t mean . . .”

He returns my breasts into the cups and inches the blanket away from my body. “Oh, but I do. Now go.”

He’s wearing a devious smile, which only serves to spur me on. Biting my bottom lip, I toss the blanket onto his lap and stand in the darkened cabin. Snores greet my ears. I glance over to where the flight attendants sit, and they’re either talking among themselves or sleeping.

On unsteady steps, I walk over to the lavatory and slip inside. I can’t believe I’m going to get into the Mile High Club! Whoever would’ve thought that me, a virgin until a few days ago, would ever be so daring?

Grinning, I rip my clothes off my body. Banging my elbow against the wall, I toss my shirt over my head. Damn. When he gets in here, how much room are we going to have? How will this even be possible?

I fold all my clothes and lay them on top of the tank. Ignoring the practicalities, I remember the way his fingers were just playing my body. He’ll make it work. Somehow.

The doorknob turns and Charles enters the tiny room. His eyes widen at me, standing naked before him. “Well, well, well. Fancy meeting you here.”

He clicks the door shut and locks it. The lights pop on. My eyes land on the huge bulge in his pants, topped by an open button. I reach out for him and unzip. His hand slides into his pocket and he retrieves a foil wrapper, then kicks off his pants and underwear.

I can’t help myself but launch my naked body at his bottom-half bare one, kissing his lips and sharing his breath. The packet rips open and he pulls back slightly to roll the condom down his length. Damn. I need to do that next time.

While he’s doing that, I unbutton his shirt and explore his sculpted torso. He turns me around so I face the mirror.

Inserting a finger into my body, he rumbles, “We have to be quiet. Think you can do that for me?”

“Yes,” I hiss, modulating my voice lower than the scream I want to let out.

“So wet for me. Have you been like this since your condo?” He rubs my clit with his thumb as he inserts a second finger into me.

“Yeah,” I manage to get out. Between the taboo of doing this on the plane, the requirement that we keep quiet, what he did to me out in the seat just before, and the possibility of being caught, my body vibrates with excitement.

He circles my clit with more force. “My poor, poor baby. What you’ve been suffering with.”

I push back against his hand. “Please.”

Against the back of my head, his lips form a smile. “Since you asked so nicely.” He lifts my right leg so it’s on top of the closed toilet seat. In the mirror, I watch his left hand tweak my nipples again. He removes his fingers from my sex and positions himself at my entrance.

Before he pushes in, his fingers return into my body. “Are you ready for me?”

“God, yes,” I half-yell, then catch myself. In a lower voice, I whisper-shout, “Please.”

He removes his fingers and licks, then holds them up to my mouth. As soon as I suck on them, he plunges into me. My whole body lights up with want. Watching him thrust into me in the mirror, his shirt flapping with his every movement deep inside of me, I can’t imagine anything ever being more erotic.

Then he removes his fingers from my mouth and plays with my clit again.

It’s too much.

I’ve been primed since I gave him the blowjob. My core tightens, and I clench all around him while my body explodes. I open my mouth to scream, but he covers it with his hand—which still smells of me.

He thrusts twice more, then stills. He lets out a low grunt as he spills inside me.

When I come back to my senses, Charles holds my back to his front as if his every breath depended on it. “Each time is better than the last,” he whispers in my ear, then nips the lobe.

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