She shrugged off her sweater, staring at the suitcase. “Um… Maybe we’re taking this whole re-enactment thing too far.”
“I don’t think so.” I unbuckled my belt, pulling it from the loops. “You need this, I want to do it, and it seems like an appropriate way for the two of us to reconnect. Plus, I’m still a little irritated about the Milo thing.”
“Just a little?” she asked hopefully.
“Pretty damn irritated, Shorty.”
“Can I leave my jeans on?”
I tilted my head, pretending to consider, even though I already knew the answer. “I think you’d better take them off.”
Of course, that was the right answer. I could see the excitement in her deep blue gaze and hear it in her indrawn breath.
“Let’s go,” I said, gesturing with the belt. “I haven’t got all night to beat your fucking tail.”
No, because I planned to spend at least some of tonight’s hours fucking her. Tomorrow’s hours too, because I didn’t have to fly back to New York until Friday morning. She dragged her feet across the room, only slightly more willing than the last time I’d bent her over my suitcase. She undid her flimsy belt—such a joke compared to my nice, sturdy one—and unbuttoned her jeans.
It was hard to wait for her to strip them down herself, because I wanted to rip them off her.
“Leave them halfway down your thighs,” I said, barely clinging to self-control. “That’s enough. Now bend over.”
She was wearing pink panties with black polka dots. Delicious and adorable. Her cheeks were so pale, so unmarked. Time to change that. I gave her a swat—a hard one—and she looked back at me in entreaty.
“It’s been a while for me,” she said. “Please don’t be too mean.”
“A while? You didn’t play while we were apart?”
“I didn’t do anything. It’s been so long…” She arched her hips with a desperate squirm meant to inflame me. It worked.
“Don’t try to distract me,” I scolded. “It’s been a damn long time for me too, thanks to you.”
I gave her a steady barrage of swats, not even concerned about the noise, although, when her whines rose to screeches, I had to remind her to keep her mouth shut. After that, it was all moans and groans, and her butt squirming, and her legs kicking. So, so beautiful. I’d missed this so much.
“Take those panties down,” I said when her ass was nice and pink all over. “It’s time for your real whipping now.”
“My real one?” She reached under her glasses to wipe her eyes and I saw the beginnings of eyeliner smears. Good girl, coming prepared for a lengthy crying session. She reached back to scoot down her panties, and I helped tug them past her thighs.
“Keep those toes on the floor,” I warned. “And no noise, because I don’t want hotel security showing up for our scene. Bury your face in the bed if you have to.”
“Can I take off my glasses?”
“No.”
I wanted the glasses on, and the clothes off, but first, I had to deal her enough punishment to assuage her guilt and regrets, and put us both at ease. I spanked her ass with the belt until she sobbed into the bed, and then I went just a little longer, because she wasn’t quite there yet. I knew when she was there, because she finally stopped resisting and went limp.
I rubbed her red ass, admiring her pain tolerance, then pushed her jeans all the way down her legs, tugging them off. She made a soft, horny sound that made my cock throb. I wanted her. I needed her, now.
“Stand up,” I said. “Come here.”
I took her in my arms, leaving her glasses on long enough for her to see how wrought up I was. Then I took them off and set them on the side table, and lifted her chin so I could kiss the mascara trails on her cheeks.
“Look at you. Just look at you.”
“Am I a mess?” she asked.
“Yes. In the best way.” I slid an arm around her waist, reveling in her tremors. “I love you,” I whispered. “That’s why I hurt you.”
She melted against me. “Yes, Sir. I know. Thank you.”
I moved my fingers from her chin down to her neck, circling the velvet column, counting the pulse that beat beneath her skin. “You’re mine, aren’t you?” I squeezed, just enough to excite her.
“Yes,” she moaned. “Yes, Sir. Please…”
“Please, what?” But I laughed, because I knew what she wanted. I unbuttoned her blouse and tossed it away, along with her bra. Now she was naked, half-blind without her glasses, well spanked and gorgeously vulnerable. When she crossed her arms in front of her, I shook my head. “No. Lift your hands over your head.”
When she obeyed, I wrapped the belt around her wrists, cinching them together. “Sit down,” I said. “Then lie back on the bed.”
She did as I asked, then watched as I undressed, her bound wrists resting like delicate birds against the bedsheets, her blurred-eyeliner gaze bright with arousal. “I haven’t been with anyone else,” I said, gripping my rock-hard shaft. “But I’ll use protection if you want.”
“No. Please don’t use anything. I want to feel you inside me.”
I crawled on top of her, spreading her thighs, rubbing my cock against her wet center. Both of us gasped. It felt so perfect to be holding her again, so I waited, experiencing the moment, even as she squirmed under me.
“Shh.” I ran my hands up her arms, and pressed her bound wrists against the bed. “Be a good girl. You’re going to get what you want.”
My little horndog was clutching my hips with her knees, trying to draw me inside. I gave in to her moaning and begging, pressing into her tight warmth with a groan of relief. I missed you. Oh, I missed you.
This was where I was meant to be, and where she was meant to be, and from now on I’d fight for her, even through her fears—and I’d work on those fears, because life was too short to miss out on love. From now on, time would move one way for us: forward.
“More,” she said, stretching under me. “Please, Sir, more.”
I held her arms over her head and gave her all she wanted, all that we had missed.
Chapter Thirty-One: Into the Horizon
I followed Devin through the airport on Friday morning, propelled by nothing but love. He was in his full pilot’s uniform, which was incredibly sexy, even if it was related to his career flying massive metal pods of death.
Not death. You won’t die on this flight. Trust him.
He loves you.
I loved him too, so much. Enough to follow him down a jet way, focusing on the excellent fit of his jacket so I didn’t lose my nerve.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” I asked. “I could just rent a car and meet you back in New York.”
“After driving for nine hours?” He turned and frowned at me, holding out his hand. “I don’t want to be away from you that long. This is easier, and I promise, you’ll survive.”
I switched my overnight bag to my other hand and wrapped my fingers around his. “Isn’t there some kind of aviation statute about non-pilots in the cockpit?”
“It’s not exactly by the book, but my dad owns this airline, and he said it was okay this once.” He stopped and pulled me to face him. Flight attendants passed by, smothering smiles. “I think you’ll feel better about flying after a hop in the cockpit. You’ll be able to see all the checks and double-checks we do, and the capabilities of the controls. I fly almost every day, Ella. I don’t want you to feel scared about it. Please try to do this for me.”
My heart banged in my chest. “I want to. I just…”
“We’re moving past fear, right?”
His calm, soothing voice and piercing gaze quieted my racing heart. Well, kind of. We’d spent the last couple days talking about fear and life and love, in between tons of fucking and make-out sessions where he kissed me senseless. I stared at his lips, his straight teeth, his pilot cap’s shining insignia and braided trim. He was so capable. Statistically, I would probably be safe.
“Okay, I can do t
his,” I said.
“Good girl. Trust me, once you’ve flown in the jump seat, you’ll be hooked on the experience. You’ll want to be in the cockpit every time you’re on an airplane. You’ll be badgering me for flying lessons.”
My breath leaked out in a gasp. “Why don’t we take things one step at a time?”
“Agreed.” He led me the rest of the way to the plane and helped me stow my bag before he escorted me into the cockpit. It wasn’t huge, but it wasn’t as cramped as I’d feared. He introduced me to the first officer for the flight. I was too nervous to catch his name, since I was busy calculating his adequacy as a pilot. He seemed serious, physically capable, and not drunk. He was younger than Captain Ross, so hopefully no heart attack.
Okay. Okay, okay, okay, okay. Everything would be fine.
Devin showed me the jump seat, which folded down from the cockpit wall. “Yes, it’s as safe as any normal seat,” he said as he helped me buckle in. “And you’ll be able to see everything through the windshield. There are some beautiful views on the way over the lake and into the city.”
“Okay,” I said. That was all I could manage, okay. Everything was okay, because he said it would be okay. I looked out the front windows, at busy airport workers and vehicles. On a nearby runway, a plane taxied and took off.
“Holy crap,” I said under my breath. There were a thousand controls on the dashboard, in front of the pilots, over them. “You know how to use all those buttons and levers?” I asked.
He turned and smiled at me. “I do. Every one of them. Take a deep breath and relax for me, okay? We’ll get you home safe, get you back to your nerd job before they dock your pay. The ACE Consortium needs your brain.”
There was little left of my brain after the last couple days in Devin’s hotel room, but I was looking forward to returning to work, especially now that I understood it could coexist with a healthy relationship.
A flight attendant poked her head in and asked if she could get me anything. I declined, clinging to the seat belt’s shoulder straps. Devin turned and checked on me every few minutes while he was doing pre-flight checks. If I wasn’t so scared, I would have found it sexy, the careful, measured back-and-forth as Devin and his first officer went over the printed checklists in their hands. Check, check, armed, check, operational, check.
Too soon, we were backing away from the jet way and proceeding to…oh my God…takeoff. It was a beautiful day, and both Devin and his co-pilot were relaxed. I tried to relax too, rubbing my sweating palms against my jeans.
It was loud as we taxied, with lots of engine noise, but I knew now that was a good thing. Engine noise meant there was plenty of fuel. Pressurizing air rushed against my face as the plane lumbered across the tarmac. It wasn’t a huge plane, but it was big and full of passengers, and all these people were running around the tarmac, and oh my God…
We turned onto a runway. I braced myself, then tried to look okay when Devin turned to give me a thumbs-up. I couldn’t freak out, no matter how scared I was. I didn’t want to embarrass him in front of his colleague, or cause some airline incident that would be on the news: Crazed, Frothing Passenger Bursts From Gibraltar Cockpit.
Okay, okay, okay.
“Ready?” Devin asked. “We’re about to accelerate.”
I nodded over the engine noise, then the plane started moving forward, fast, then faster, until lines, numbers, and distance markings whizzed past us at a terrifying pace. Just when I thought I couldn’t take it anymore, Devin moved the controls and the plane’s nose lifted. Within seconds, the runway was behind us, falling away, and we were climbing above Toronto, away from the earth. Oh God, we were taking off. Heading up. No turning back now.
I held onto the jump seat cushion as Devin and the other pilot—whose name I still didn’t know—operated the flight instruments with choreographed teamwork. Although my stomach rose into my throat, there was something hypnotic about watching them control this huge machine.
I moved my hands to my knees and closed my eyes, processing the engine’s noise as a kind of meditation. We’re okay. We’re safe. Beneath that hum, I could hear Devin’s steady voice communicating with the air traffic tower. I felt the plane start to turn and opened my eyes. In the back, the turns always felt wild and dangerous. Now I watched Devin control the turn with a movement of his fingers. It was like science: action and result.
We climbed in silence as I stared at the back of Devin’s neck. He was in control. He would take care of me. I let out a breath and felt some of my fear ebb away. Not all, but enough. As we cleared the line of clouds, a glowing horizon stretched beyond the windshield, a breathtaking collage of sky and sun as far as I could see. It was scary, yes, but beautiful, just like my feelings for Devin.
“Hanging in there?” he asked. He looked back at me, his profile outlined by luminescent clouds.
“Yes,” I cried over the engines’ noise. “You’re right, this is amazing. It’s like the sky goes on forever.”
He reached to squeeze my hand, just for a moment, and his gaze was more compelling than anything I saw outside. I might obsess over barely detectable gravitational waves in some quest to figure out the universe, but there was nothing to figure out when it came to Devin. I loved him, and I knew he loved me.
Time might move backwards and forwards, a never-ending slide of existence, but here and now, Devin was with me and that was all that mattered. We’d make our own version of forever, both of us moving forward into an endless, luminous sky.
THE END
A Final Note
I had so much fun doing research for Devin and Ella’s story. Gravitational wave science is a fascinating field, with new breakthroughs announced almost every week as I wrote. As for aviation, there are countless videos and pilot forums online with everything you’d ever want to know about flying. The “cockpit view” videos were my favorite. Maybe you can check out a few.
As you may know, this is the second book in my Dark Dominance series. The first book, Dark Control, told Fort and Juliet’s story, with an emphasis on the dark energies of desire. I wanted Deep Control to be about deep thoughts and feelings, especially when it comes to love.
The final book, Milo’s story, will be called Dangerous Control, and it will close out the series with an intense journey to happily ever after for the dark-eyed violinist. Is there anything more dangerous than loving someone you shouldn’t? I hope you’ll find Milo’s story worth the wait.
Many thanks to Carol and Tiffany, who helped me shape up this story with thoughtful suggestions and support. Thanks also to my readers, for your never-ending encouragement. Your reviews and Facebook posts help me more than you know. If you’re not on my mailing list, you can sign up using the “connect” link at annabeljoseph.com.
In closing, may all your skies be endless and luminous, and all your fears put to rest.
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Dangerous Control:
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Milo Fierro lives for two things, dominance and music. At The Gallery, where depravity rules, he’s known for his passionate desires, but on the outside, he’s learned to hide beneath a veneer of dark-eyed professionalism. It’s too dangerous to be himself. Most women don’t understand.
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Deep Control Page 21
