Chapter 116 Journey To Her Mother
I press my forehead against the cold window of Darius’s private jet, staring down at the glittering metropolis far below. The city lights blur into rivers of gold and silver as the plane hums steadily through the night sky. My hands grip the edge of the window sill, knuckles white, trying to find a grounding point for the storm of thoughts racing through my head. Each one circles around the same relentless truth: the more I learn about my mother, the more I realize how little I actually know.
Darius sits across from me, legs stretched, posture perfectly relaxed despite the turbulence that keeps jolting the cabin. His golden eyes are fixed on a series of files spread across the small table in front of him, each one marked with old Council seals and faded handwriting. I watch him for a long moment. The way his jaw tightens slightly when he reads something alarming, the small exhale he lets out when he uncovers a promising lead, these are glimpses of the man who commands worlds and yet somehow makes me feel like the only one in existence.
The air between us is heavy, charged with an unspoken tension that has been simmering since the moment we left the Council headquarters. I can feel it pulsing through the quiet cabin, a subtle tug at my senses, an almost magnetic force that wants to bridge the space between us. I refuse to let myself acknowledge it, because every time I do, I feel both pulled toward him and fiercely aware of the danger of letting my guard down.
A sudden bump of turbulence rattles the jet, throwing me off balance. My hands instinctively grip the armrest, my pulse spiking. Before I can think to move away, Darius’s hand is over mine, warm and strong, a shield against the panic rising in my chest.
“Lyra,” he murmurs, his voice low but firm, “relax. It’s just a little turbulence.”
I yank my hand back, my fingers trembling as I mutter, “I know, Stop treating me like a frightened child.”
He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t move away. Instead, his golden gaze meets mine, sharp and unwavering, like he’s reading the chaos in my mind and refusing to let it go unnoticed. “Then stop looking like you need to be soothed,” he says casually, almost teasingly.
I feel heat rise to my cheeks, and I avert my eyes, letting them fall to the city far below. “I don’t need anything,” I mutter, though the lie tastes bitter on my tongue. Every nerve in my body tells a different story. My skin tingles where his hand had been, my heart pounds at the memory of his warmth.
Darius leans back slightly, watching me like he’s both amused and assessing. “Lyra,” he says softly, leaning forward, “you don’t have to hide it from me. You never have to hide it.”
I grit my teeth and turn back to the window, forcing myself to look at the night sky, at the endless expanse above the city. “I’m not hiding anything,” I reply, my voice low but defensive.
He tilts his head, that smirk tugging at the corner of his lips that I’ve learned to recognize as dangerous. “You’re lying.”
I press my lips into a thin line, refusing to give him the satisfaction of answering. He’s good at this, at reading me. At seeing the cracks I try so desperately to cover. And yet, as irritating as it is, part of me wants him to keep trying.
The jet shudders again, a stronger wave of turbulence this time, and I feel my stomach lurch. I grip the armrest tighter, fighting the sudden panic that rises like a tidal wave. Before I can think, Darius is at my side again, his hand brushing mine with gentle insistence.
“Lyra,” he says, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through me, “look at me.”
I glance at him, reluctantly, and in the dim cabin light, I see every line of his face etched with calm control, control he seems to wield like a weapon against the chaos inside me. His eyes meet mine, steady and unwavering, and for a moment, I forget the city below, the turbulence, the fears. All I can focus on is him, on the solid certainty that he represents.
“You’re safe,little miss tough lady” he whispers, leaning closer. The faint scent of him, a mix of cedarwood and something faintly metallic, fills my senses, and I shiver despite myself. “With me, you’re safe.”
“Darius…” I murmur, my voice barely audible, “I… I’m scared, nervous….”
His expression softens just slightly, the edges of his golden eyes losing a fraction of their sharpness. “So am I,” he admits, and the words strike me like lightning. The first time I’ve ever heard him admit vulnerability. My breath catches in my chest, and I realize how rare and intimate this moment is, that the man who commands entire packs, entire cities, entire legacies, is telling me he is afraid too.
I reach out instinctively, brushing my fingertips against his cheek. His eyes close at the contact, a shiver passing through him, as though my touch is a balm he didn’t know he needed. I trace a finger along the scar on his brow, curious and tender at the same time. “How did this happen?” I ask softly. “It must have hurt.”
“It’s alright,” he murmurs, the corners of his lips twitching into a faint, almost imperceptible smile.
I press a soft kiss to the scar, lingering longer than necessary, and I feel him lean into it slightly. “You’re seducing me,” he teases, his voice teasing but low, carrying that unmistakable undertone of desire that makes my chest tighten.
I push him lightly, laughing softly, “I’m not.”
He chuckles, that deep, low laugh that vibrates against me. “You can touch me whenever you want,” he says, a spark of amusement in his golden eyes. I feel heat creep into my cheeks at the words, a blush rising despite my best efforts to remain composed.
The plane tilts slightly, and the city below wavers like liquid in the darkness. My fingers twitch against his hand again, and he covers them, not with command this time but with a gentle pressure that reassures, that anchors me.
The silence that follows is comfortable, almost sacred. We don’t need words. The unspoken understanding hums between us like electricity. That despite the danger, the uncertainty, and the chaos of the world outside this cabin, we are together.
Finally, I lean back slightly, resting my head on the seat, watching the stars streak past the window. “Do you think… that if I meet her, I’ll be ready?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
Darius tilts his head, thoughtful, his hand brushing against mine again. “You’ll never be completely ready,” he admits. “But with me by your side? You’ll be strong enough.”
I close my eyes, letting the words sink in, letting the hum of the jet and the warmth of his hand be the only constants in a world that feels like it’s always shifting beneath me.
I wake up after a few minutes, Darius was now cataloging in the manila folder resting on his lap. I couldn't see his face without turning, but I didn't need to. I could feel him there, occupying space with that infuriating calm, his dark eyes moving across documents.
The leather seat creaked beneath him as he shifted, and the sound made my teeth clench.
The cabin felt smaller than usual tonight. The plush cream seats and polished wood accents that screamed old money seemed to press in around me, and the soft hum of the engines did nothing to settle the restless energy crawling beneath my skin. My bare feet curled against the carpeted floor, and I tugged at the hem of my sundress
"You're going to burn a hole through that window if you keep staring." I didn't turn around. His voice was low, amused, and it made my jaw tighten even further. Darius had this way of speaking that suggested he knew exactly what I was thinking, what I was feeling, what I would do before I did it.
It was insufferable.
"Maybe I'm planning my escape," I said, "Figuring out exactly how fast I'd fall from this altitude." I smirked.
"You'd hit the ground before you hit the water." The rustle of papers. "And I'd jump right after you."
I spun around, my dark hair whipping against my cheek. He now sat across the aisle, one leg crossed over the other, those broad shoulders filling the seat in a way that made the cabin feel even more cramped. His dark eyes lifted from the file in his hands, and there it was,that barely-there smirk.
The plane lurched.
Turbulence struck without warning, a violent shudder that rattled the overhead compartments and sent my champagne glass sliding across the table. My hands shot out, gripping the armrests with white-knuckled intensity as my stomach dropped. The city lights outside the window tilted at a sickening angle, and for one heart-stopping moment, I was convinced we were going down.
Then his hand covered mine.
It happened so fast I barely registered the movement,one second I was clutching the leather armrest like a lifeline, and the next his warm, rough palm was pressed over my fingers, holding them steady. The touch shot through me like electricity, and something in my chest lurched harder than the plane had.
he rose from his seat in one fluid motion. My body went rigid as he moved toward me, his footsteps muffled against the carpet. The cabin suddenly felt airless, and I pressed myself deeper into the leather seat as if I could disappear into it. He stopped just beside me,close enough that I could smell him, something expensive and masculine and entirely too appealing,and leaned down until his lips nearly brushed the shell of my ear.
"I can help, you know." His breath fanned against my neck, hot and intimate. "I know a way to help you relax your nerves."
"I’m not interested…"
"Shh." His lips grazed my earlobe, feather-light. "Let me tell you what I think about when I watch you sitting there, staring out that window,while your fingers dig into your seat."
His hand found the armrest again, not touching me, but close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his skin. My heart hammered against my ribs like a caged bird, and I couldn't tell if I wanted to fly away or throw myself against the bars.
"I think about the flight attendant," he continued, his voice dropping to a whisper that seemed to vibrate through my bones. " I think about her walking in right now, finding us. Finding you."
My thighs pressed together involuntarily.
"Finding you with your dress pushed up around your waist and my cock buried so deep inside you that you can't remember your own name." His breath hitched slightly, the only sign that this was affecting him too. "I think about how you'd try to cover yourself, how you'd blush and stammer and pretend to be embarrassed. But you wouldn't stop. You wouldn't want me to stop."
"This is….you're…"
"I think about her watching. Watching me fuck you until you scream. Watching you come undone on my dick while she stands there, forgotten, irrelevant, because the only thing that exists in that moment is us." His tongue traced the curve of my ear, wet and warm. "And I think about how much you'd hate yourself for wanting it. For loving it. For begging me to never stop."
I shoved him.”You have no manners!”
The force of it surprised even me,I planted both palms against his chest and pushed with everything I had. He didn't move a muscle. He was built like a statue, immovable, and my hands just sank into the firm muscle beneath his shirt as if I were trying to push against a mountain.
But the words... the words had done something to me. Something terrible. Heat pooled between my legs, sticky and insistent, and I could feel my underwear clinging to flesh that had no business being this aroused. My face burned with shame and something darker,something that made me want to grab him by the collar and pull him closer instead of pushing him away.
He straightened, that insufferable smirk firmly in place, and adjusted his shirt as if I hadn't just tried to shove him across the cabin. "There's a bed in the back," he said, his voice casual. "You know where to find me."
Then he turned and walked away, disappearing through the door at the rear of the cabin without a backward glance.
I sat there, frozen, my breath coming in shallow gasps. The leather seat squeaked beneath me as I shifted, trying to find a position that didn't put pressure on the throbbing ache between my legs. My thighs were squeezed so tightly together my muscles trembled, and every time I breathed, I could smell him,could still feel the ghost of his breath on my neck.
"You're out of your mind," I whispered to the empty cabin. "If you think I'm going to follow you..." Have sex here? And risk the pilot and two hostesses hearing us? I would die of shame.
But I didn't move. I couldn't. My body had betrayed me completely, and the longer I sat there, the worse it got. I crossed my legs. Uncrossed them. Pressed my knees together and squeezed, trying to relieve the pressure building in my core. Nothing helped. The arousal was like a living thing, clawing at me from the inside, demanding attention.
Minutes passed. Or maybe hours. Time had become meaningless in this metal tube suspended between earth and sky. My leg bounced against the seat. Then the other one. I was jiggling like a child who needed the bathroom,except what I needed was infinitely more shameful.
The hell with it. I did forget about how nervous I was about meeting my mother, though.
“I needed to relax,”
I stood on shaking legs, my bare feet silent against the carpet, and moved toward the back of the cabin.
The door to the sleeping quarters was slightly ajar, spilling warm light into the darkened cabin. I pushed it open and stopped in the doorway, my breath catching for the second time that night.
Darius sat on the edge of the narrow bed, shirtless, his broad chest on full display. The muscles rippled beneath skin that looked golden in the soft lighting, and a trail of dark hair disappeared beneath the waistband of his slacks. That smirk, that goddamn smirk, curved his lips as he watched me take him in, and I wanted to slap it off his face almost as much as I wanted to lick every ridge of his abdomen.
"Took you long enough."
"I hate you."
"I know you don’t mean it ." His hands moved to his waistband. "Come here."
I didn't move. I watched, mesmerized, as he unzipped his slacks and reached inside. When he pulled his cock free, I felt my mouth go dry. It was hard and thick, veins running along the shaft like roads on a map, the head already glistening with moisture. He stroked it once, twice, his dark eyes never leaving my face.
"Take off your clothes." His voice dropped an octave. "All of them."
"I…" The protest died in my throat. My hands were already moving, fingers finding the straps of my sundress and pushing them down my shoulders. The fabric pooled at my feet, leaving me in nothing but my underwear,a scrap of black lace that suddenly felt far too revealing.
"Those too."
I hesitated for a fraction of a second before hooking my thumbs into the waistband and sliding the panties down my thighs. The cool air hit my wet flesh, and I shivered despite the warmth of the cabin. Darius's gaze traveled down my body, lingering on my breasts, my hips, the junction between my thighs where arousal glistened on my skin.
"Beautiful," he murmured, and the word sounded like an insult and a prayer all at once. "On your knees."
I moved toward him without thinking, my body acting on instinct while my mind screamed warnings. The carpet was soft beneath my knees as I settled between his spread thighs, my face level with his cock. It jutted toward me, demanding attention, and I could see the pulse jumping in the thick vein running along the underside.
My hand wrapped around the base,my fingers barely touched,and I leaned forward to run my tongue across the head. The taste of him hit my senses: salt and skin and something uniquely male. His breath hissed through his teeth, and I felt a surge of satisfaction. He wasn't as composed as he pretended to be. Good.
I licked him again, slower this time, swirling my tongue around the ridge before taking the head into my mouth.
The weight of him on my tongue was intoxicating, and I sucked gently as my hand stroked what I couldn't fit.
Above me, I heard his breathing quicken,sharp intakes of breath that told me I was affecting him despite his attempts at control.
Emboldened, I took more of him, relaxing my jaw and letting my mouth slide further down his shaft. I managed maybe half his length before I felt him hit the back of my throat, and my gag reflex triggered. My eyes watered, and I pulled back slightly, catching my breath.
But before I could try again, his hand shot out and fisted in my hair.
The grip was firm,not painful, but inescapable,and my scalp prickled with sensation as he held me in place.
His hips lifted from the bed, pushing his cock deeper into my mouth, and I felt him slide past my gag reflex and into my throat. Tears spilled down my cheeks as I struggled to breathe through my nose.
He didn't stop. His hand guided my head up and down, setting a brutal rhythm that had nothing to do with my comfort and everything to do with his pleasure. I gagged and choked, drool spilling from the corners of my mouth and dripping down my chin. My hands gripped his thighs for balance, nails digging into the muscle, but he didn't seem to notice or care.
"That's it," he growled above me. "Take it. Take all of it."
My vision blurred with tears. I couldn't breathe,every time I tried to pull back, he held me in place, fucking my throat with deep, relentless thrusts. The wet, obscene sounds of my choking filled the small cabin, mixing with his harsh breathing and the constant hum of the engines.
Just when I thought I couldn't take anymore,just when black spots started dancing at the edges of my vision, I felt him swell in my mouth. His grip on my hair tightened, and with one final thrust, he buried himself to the hilt and came.
Hot pulses of cum hit the back of my throat, thick and copious, and I swallowed instinctively around him. He groaned, a low, guttural sound that seemed to come from somewhere deep in his chest, and his hips jerked spasmodically as he rode out his orgasm.
When he finally released my hair, I pulled back with a gasp, my lungs burning as I sucked in desperate breaths of air. Cum and drool coated my chin, and I could feel my eyes swelling from the tears. I was a mess,a used, degraded mess,and the worst part was how wet I was between my legs. My thighs were slick with it, my arousal dripping onto the carpet beneath me.
"Asshole," I choked out, shoving at his knee. "You could have…I couldn't breathe…."
He moved faster than I could react. One moment I was on my knees, the next I was being hauled onto his lap, my legs straddling his hips as his arms wrapped around my waist. His cock,still hard, impossibly,pressed against my stomach, and I felt another pulse of arousal clench in my core.
"You're welcome," he murmured against my throat.
"I didn't…"
His mouth found the sensitive spot just below my ear, and whatever I'd been about to say dissolved into a whimper. His teeth grazed my skin, not quite biting, and I felt my nipples harden against his chest. One of his hands splayed across my lower back, holding me in place, while the other traced up my spine with agonizing slowness.
"I'm going to fuck you now," he said, his voice calm and matter-of-fact. "And you're going to take it. And when you come…and you will come…you're going to say my name."
"I won't…"
His hand slid between our bodies, fingers finding my entrance and sliding through the slick arousal there. Two fingers pushed inside me without warning, and I arched against him with a cry. He curled them, finding that spot inside me that made stars explode behind my eyes, and began stroking it with devastating precision.
"This is mine," he said, his fingers moving inside me. "This wet, desperate little cunt belongs to me. Say it."
"No…"
He added a third finger, stretching me, and I sobbed against his shoulder. The pressure was building again, coiling in my core like a spring about to snap. My hips moved of their own accord, grinding against his hand, chasing the pleasure he was so expertly providing.
"Say it."
"Yours," I gasped, the word torn from somewhere deep inside me. "It's yours. Please…"
He pulled his fingers free, and I made a sound of loss that embarrassed me. But then his hands were on my hips, lifting me, positioning me over his cock. The head nudged at my entrance, slick with my arousal, and I felt my body opening for him like a flower turning toward the sun.
He let me drop.
I impaled myself on him in one smooth motion, his cock filling me completely, stretching me in ways I hadn't
known I could be stretched. My head fell back, and a sound escaped my throat,half moan, half sob,that I couldn't have suppressed if I'd tried. He was so deep I could feel him in my stomach, feel my body reshaping itself around him.
My hips began to move. I couldn't stop them, couldn't control the desperate rolling motion that had me grinding against him, seeking friction, seeking release. His hands guided me, setting a rhythm that matched the pounding of my heart.
I leaned forward, my forehead pressing against his, and my eyes found the thin white scar above his left eyebrow. I'd never asked about it,never cared enough to,but now I traced it with my finger, feeling the raised skin beneath my touch. His breath hitched almost imperceptibly, and something shifted in his expression.
For just a moment, he looked almost vulnerable.
I kissed him.
It wasn't gentle. Our teeth clashed, tongues tangling in a mimicry of what was happening below. I could taste myself on his lips, mixed with the lingering salt of his release, and I sucked his tongue into my mouth like I was trying to consume him. His hand fisted in my hair again, angling my head to deepen the kiss, and I whimpered against his mouth.
The pace of my movements matched the rhythm of our kissing,desperate, hungry, consuming. I rode him with everything I had, chasing an orgasm that felt like it might shatter me into a million pieces. The wet sounds of our coupling echoed through the cabin, obscene and undeniable, and I didn't care. I didn't care about anythingexcept the pressure building in my core.
"Come for me," he growled against my mouth. "Now."
His hand found the spot between my legs,that swollen bundle of nerves that had been begging for attention and pressed. His fingers moved in tight circles while his cock thrust up into me, hitting that place inside me that made my vision white out.
I came with a scream that probably echoed through the entire plane.
My body convulsed, muscles clenching around him as waves of pleasure crashed through me. He swallowed my cries with his mouth, kissing me through my orgasm with a tenderness that seemed at odds with everything else about him. My eyes rolled back, my back arched, and I felt myself gushing around him, my release mixing with his cum and coating both our thighs.
He wasn't far behind. With a groan that vibrated through my entire body, he buried himself to the hilt and came again, filling me with hot spurts of cum that seemed to go on forever. I could feel my body accepting it, drinking it in, and something primal and satisfied settled in my chest.
We stayed like that for a long moment,tangled together, breathing heavily, my forehead resting against his.
His heart pounded against my chest, and I could feel his cock softening inside me, our combined fluids starting to leak out around him.