Chapter 228 It’s time I returned the favor
Aria’s POV
The flight attendant appeared with drinks—whiskey for Damian, wine for me. I accepted the glass gratefully and took a long sip, letting the warmth spread through my chest.
For a while, we didn’t talk. Just sat there in comfortable silence, the hum of the engines the only sound.
Then Damian stood up and crossed to my side of the cabin. He settled into the seat next to me, close enough that our thighs pressed together.
"You’re tense," he said quietly.
"I’m fine."
"Liar." His hand slid up my thigh, slow and deliberate, and heat sparked under my skin wherever he touched. My breath caught. Between my thighs, something low and greedy clenched.
"Damian—"
"We have a three-hour flight ahead of us." His voice dropped, low and rough in a way that set me on fire. "And you’ve been taking care of me for the past four days. I think it’s time I returned the favor."
My pulse spiked hard enough I could feel it in my throat. "Here? Now?"
"Why not?" His lips curved into a wicked smile. "No one’s going to interrupt us. And I need to make sure my girl knows exactly how much I appreciate her."
His girl.
God, the way he said it made something inside me melt—and lower, heat was already building between my thighs, thick and unmistakable.
"Damian," I started, but he cut me off with a kiss—deep and possessive and absolutely devastating.
His tongue slid against mine, and a helpless sound escaped me. My nipples tightened against my bra, sudden and sensitive, every brush of fabric turning sharper as his hands fisted in my hair.
He kissed like he was claiming me. Like he’d been holding back for days and had finally decided not to.
Heat flooded down my spine, pooled low in my belly, then sank hotter between my legs until I was shifting in the seat without meaning to, chasing friction that wasn’t enough.
His hands were everywhere—tangling in my hair, sliding down my back, gripping my waist like he couldn’t get close enough.
When his palm dragged up my ribs and his thumb brushed the underside of my breast, my whole body jolted.
I kissed him back harder, pouring every ounce of fear and relief and desperate need into it, my thighs pressing together against the ache spreading there.
When he finally pulled back, we were both breathing hard. My lips felt swollen. My skin felt too tight.
"Come here," he murmured, his voice rough.
He guided me onto his lap, my legs straddling his hips, and I gasped at the hard press of him right against my center—thick, unmistakable, even through our clothes.
The contact sent a sharp throb straight through my clit. Heat building between my thighs turned slick, shamefully fast.
I could already feel how wet I was, the damp cling of fabric when I shifted.
"I want you," he said, his hands sliding up under my shirt, palms hot against bare skin. "Right here. Right now."
"Then take me," I whispered.
And he did.
His hands were rough and demanding as he stripped my clothes away, piece by piece. Cool cabin air hit my bare breasts and my nipples tightened further, aching.
When his mouth closed over one, hot and wet, my back arched hard and a broken moan tore out of me. Every suck pulled a pulse between my legs.
I was already trembling on his lap, thighs bracketing his hips, the heat there turning molten.
He freed himself, the thick head of his cock dragging through my soaked folds, and my whole body shuddered.
I was dripping—I could feel it, slick and shameless along his length as he rubbed against me, coating himself in how ready I was.
"Fuck—listen to you," he muttered against my throat, feeling how wet I’d gotten for him. "Soaked already."
Then he pulled me down onto him in one smooth motion.
I cried out. The sudden fullness stole my breath—stretch, pressure, that deep relentless invasion until he was buried inside me and my thighs were shaking around his hips.
My nails bit into his shoulders. My cunt clenched helplessly around him, fluttering, trying to adjust, every nerve lit up and burning.
"Fuck," he groaned, his head falling back against the seat. "You feel so good, baby."
I started to move, slow and deliberate, and the slide of him inside me set me on fire all over again. Every inch dragged against sensitive walls already fluttering tight.
Heat building between my thighs turned sharper, wetter, wet sounds filling the narrow space between us as I rose and sank.
My breasts swayed with every movement; when his hands gripped my hips hard enough to bruise and forced me down deeper, pleasure punched up through my stomach so hard my vision blurred.
"That’s it," he murmured, his voice thick. "Ride me. Take what you need."
So I did.
I rode him slow and deep, savoring every stretch, every thrust, every broken moan that spilled from his lips—and mine.
My body betrayed everything I felt: the flush crawling down my chest, the way my thighs quivered each time I took him to the hilt, the shameless grind of my clit against his body when I rolled my hips.
Sweat pricked along my spine. My breathing went ragged, then ruined. Inside, the tension wound tighter and tighter, a coiling heat that made my toes curl and my fingers scramble useless against his shoulders.
Then his hand slid between us.
His fingers found my clit and rubbed tight, ruthless circles, and my whole body seized.
"Damian—oh God—"
The orgasm surged through me with no warning gentle about it—violent, full-body, crashing out from where we were joined. My cunt clamped down around his cock in hard, rhythmic pulses.
Pleasure ripped up my spine, flooded my belly, spilled out of my throat in a broken cry of his name as my thighs locked and shook.
I couldn’t stop clenching around him, wetter, tighter, the climax rolling through me in waves that left me gasping and wrecked in his lap.
"Good girl," he growled, grip bruising on my hips as he thrust up into me harder, faster, fucking me through it while I was still spasming around him.
"You’re so fucking perfect. That’s it—take it. Let me feel you come."
Every thrust punched fresh aftershocks through my oversensitive body. My breasts bounced with the force of it; my nails scraped his shoulders; wet, filthy sounds filled the cabin as he drove into the mess I’d made of both of us.
A few more thrusts and he followed me over—his whole body going taut as he buried himself deep and came with a guttural sound against my throat, flooding me hot.
The feel of it wrenched another helpless flutter out of me, my body milking him through it like it didn’t know how to stop,my mind was blissfully blank for the first time in days.
We stayed like that for a long moment, tangled together, both of us breathing hard. My thighs were still quivering on either side of his hips. Sweat cooled on my skin.
I could feel him inside me—and then I felt him stir again, unmistakably.
Oh God,he can’t be serious.