Page 15 of Their Cruel Love

Razor dismisses the offered drink with a shake of his head.

“Thank you.” I reach for a glass. Brutus leans in and places his hand between me and the glass. I flash a glare. What is this?

“What’s the problem?” Razor asks him. The stewardess retreats a few steps to await their decision.

Not my decision—theirs. It’s a sign of what is coming, perhaps. To have control removed from me. I’m still annoyed.

“It’s just one glass of champagne.” I half-rise then drop back into my seat when I realize getting angry will achieve little.

“Wait there.” Then Razor draws Brutus aside and the other man demonstrates he can actually talk, and murmurs something.

“Why is he even here? I mean what’s with you needing an adjudicator? Are you on trial?”

“No, you are. He has a point.” Razor returns to stand before me. “The truth. How much have you had today?”

I shrug. “Three glasses but that was hours ago now.”

His mouth opens in a silentwhoa. “Enough then. Perhaps later you can have more.”

“You have fucking rules on champagne access?” Swearing out loud is not usually my thing, well, not much, but this requires cursing.

“We have rules, full stop, on many things when it comes to our submissives and ourselves.”

Our submissives? I blink at him.

As if this is a natural gesture that needs no introduction or consent, he props a forefinger beneath my chin and slowly presses upward. I resist then allow the pressure, tilt my head. Our gazes lock. The air stills as he leans down and places his lips on mine in a way that warms every part of my body.

The heat rushes downward in a wave and it’s such an erotic shock.

When he lifts his mouth a moment later, the plane has hushed.

“Thank you for obeying. And no further swearing at me. Last warning on that, miss.” Then he seats himself and buckles in. The stewardess retreats further, and I’m aware of her making that precious tray of drinks vanish.

“Thatwas arrogant of you.” Meaning the kiss. The words he just said, those were as bad.

“You’ll get used to it.”

Brutus clears his throat, loudly.

I shake myself loose of the haze and copy Razor, buckling my seatbelt. Fuck though. That was…interesting.

It’s difficult to admit to myself, but I’m not just liking what he’s doing, saying; I’m adoring it. My panties are alarmingly wetter than when I boarded. There is a strange seesawing balance between Razor attending to my needs, showing fascination with what I do and who I am, and shamelessly overstepping. I signed up for this. I think.

I lick my tongue tip across the seam of my lips, wondering if I can taste him. My clit bumps higher, and breathing becomes difficult.

That press of his mouth on mine did not qualify as a true kiss, yet I’m eating out of Razor’s hand.

Behind us the adjudicator makes a lot of noise as he connects his seatbelt, but I’m busy side-eyeing Razor, admiring the artistry of his neck tattoo and also his striking side profile.

“Landing in ten minutes,” the pilot announces, before he rattles off more information about the weather and our flight time. I’m barely listening because the thump of my heart is louder.

I shouldn’t lose track of why I’m doing this. Milli is still missing.

Except, she would tell me to enjoy myself, I know she would. It’s her to aT. I can do both, can’t I?

Idly, I watch the lights of the city sweep closer beyond the window, sprinkling the land below. “Do I get to hear the name of this castle, Razor?”

“No. You’ll be blindfolded in the limousine.”

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