I stepped in and kicked the door shut. Her pussy was pink and glistening like a fucking star in the dark. I licked my lips. “I thought you said you needed the toilet.”
“You thought. I didn’t correct.”
“We need to be buckled up for take-off,” I said, but I was already kicking off my shoes and socks.
A mischievous smirk lit up her face, and a hand flew to her mouth. “Oops! I forgot.”
I knew why she got like this. Every time we were on a plane, she acted cocky. Like she wanted to brand herself on me to forget some stewardesses I had fucked ages ago. Little did she know, she was branded in so deep my organs sang her praises out like a fucking choir.
I unbuckled my belt and pushed my boxers and slacks down. My cock pulsed out, and a groan fell from her throat. My shirt was off, and I was on her in a flash. I pulled her up, spread her wide, and buried my mouth in her sweet nectar. I was all over her, sucking and licking like I hadn’t fucked her for ages rather than just this morning. Her moans were loud and wrapped around my skin like warm honey. I circled back and bit her clit. She made me fucking insane. So I plunged my fingers in and sucked her clit into my mouth. She trilled underneath and exploded in warm liquid. I lapped it all up, made my way up her body, and pushed her taste into her mouth.
My breaths were heavy, my movements unsteady. She called me uncouth. And I was all of that, but with her, I took it to extremes. I proved it by plunging in like a man in a desert finding a fucking pool.
“Zo,” she groaned, and I felt it vibrating the length of my dick. It might have been stupid to another man’s ears. But to mine, it was a fucking symphony.
I tried not to be a fucking five-second man and gritted my teeth and counted backward from fifty. But she wasn’t giving me much of a chance by wriggling temptingly underneath me.
“Stay still,” I muttered.
“Can’t. Move.” I don’t. “Fuck me harder.”
Jesus! She just knew which damn buttons she had to push. I pulled out and plunged right back in. Again and again, until we had a rhythm that was neither slow nor steady. Her breasts bounced with every thrust, and each moan of hers sent a spark up my dick. It was a matter of minutes, and I was exploding like a fucking hormonal teenager, but thankfully she followed me soon after.
Our heartbeats drummed between our chests, and the sound of our hot breaths filled the room.
“Why does your fucking brother need you at his wedding?”
Her eyebrows skimmed her hairline. “Ugh… I don’t know… maybe because he’s my brother?”
Sex and a heart running outside my body made me forget to put a lid on my fucking mouth, and “Hate sharing you,” rumbled out.
She didn’t laugh. She ran her hand up my chest, resting it right on top of my heart. It felt like ointment on my hot, burning wound. “I am all yours.”
“You’re a fucking Di Matteo when you’re there.”
She frowned at the venom in my voice. So what? I wanted her to be fucking mine. Only mine.
“I am also a Martello.”
“Only a Martello,” I said adamantly.
She shook her head. “I am a daughter, a sister, but…” she rushed to wipe the frown off my lips. “Also, your wife.”
“How much?”
She frowned. “What do you mean, how much?”
“I don’t know.” I was needy, and I didn’t care. “What’s the percentage?”
She laughed. “I don’t know.”
I was about to blow my head off with another ridiculous demand.“But you are the reason that my heart pounds a million miles a second.”
A hot sigh left me. That was fucking enough for me.
I couldn’t believe there was a time when I wanted a Sicilian doll in my house. Couldn’t imagine a minute without this fiery princess in my home now. Jesus. I don’t know when it happened. But somehow, she had brought me to my knees and turned her pleas to my needs.
