Chapter 43 Height Of Pleasure
I jolt awake to a searing heat between my thighs, my body already betraying me before my eyes even fully open.
Darius’s fingers are there, buried deep inside my leggings, his touch both familiar and unwelcome. My breath catches as his dark eyes meet mine, glinting with a hunger that sends a shiver down my spine. His lips curve into a smirk as he leans in, his breath hot against my neck, sending a trail of goosebumps down my skin.
“Darius, what the—” I start to protest, my voice hoarse with sleep, but he cuts me off with a kiss. His lips crush against mine, his tongue demanding, insistent, as if he owns me. I try to push him away, my hands pressing against his broad chest, but he’s unyielding, his grip on my thigh tightening. My body betrays me again as his fingers flick my clit, a jolt of pleasure shooting through me, and I can’t stifle the moan that escapes my lips.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I hiss, my voice trembling with a mix of anger and arousal. He pulls back just enough to murmur against my lips, his breath warm and heavy. “Shh. She’s out cold,” he says, his voice low and dangerous. I glance over my shoulder, my heart pounding, and see Amina, asleep in the bed nearby. Her even breathing is a stark contrast to the chaos unfolding in my lap.
“My brother’s in the cockpit,” Darius continues, his fingers never stopping their relentless rhythm. “And the stewardesses know not to disturb us.” His words are a challenge, a dare, and my defiance wavers as his thumb presses against my clit, circling, massaging, driving me closer to the edge. I’m trapped between his body and the plush seat, my panties moved to the side, my bare feet kicking feebly against the carpet.
“Stop,” I whisper, but it’s half-hearted, my body already arching into his touch. He adds another finger, thrusting deep, his movements deliberate, punishing. I bite my lip to stifle another moan, but it’s no use. He’s kissing me again, swallowing my sounds, his tongue tangling with mine as his fingers work me over. My hips buck involuntarily, my cunt clenching around him, and I’m drowning in the sensation, my protests forgotten.
The jet shudders slightly, signaling its descent, but I’m too far gone to care. Darius’s fingers are a blur, his thumb relentless, and I’m trembling, my body coiled tight, on the brink of something I don’t want to feel. “Darius—” I gasp, but it’s too late. My orgasm crashes over me, a wave of pleasure that leaves me shaking, my breath coming in ragged gasps. He pulls his fingers free, sucking them clean with a smirk that makes my cheeks burn.
“We’re landing soon,” he growls, his polished leather boots planted firmly on the jet’s carpet. His presence is commanding and predatory, and I feel small and vulnerable, despite my defiance. His eyes lock onto mine, raw and unchecked, and I see it, the hunger, the possession. He leans in, his breath hot against my ear, his lips brushing my skin in a way that makes me shiver.
“But first…” he begins, his hand sliding back up my thigh, his fingers brushing the edge of my soaking wet pussy.
My breath hitches, my body still sensitive, still aching. The jet shudders again, the descent more pronounced now, and my heart races, caught between fear and anticipation. His lips hover dangerously close to mine, his gaze intense, unyielding.
“How I want my cock buried deep inside you. Fuck you so hard, that you never forget it.” His words send a chill down my spine, a mix of anger and arousal warring within me. I open my mouth to retort, to tell him to go to hell, but his lips silence me again, his kiss deep and demanding. His hand slips beneath my leggings, his fingers teasing the edge of my panties, and I’m lost, my body responding despite my best efforts.
The jet’s engines roar as it begins its final descent, but all I can hear is the sound of my own ragged breathing, the thud of my heart in my chest. Darius’s touch is relentless, his fingers brushing, teasing, never entering, and I’m a mess, my body trembling, my mind fogged with desire. I want to push him away, to scream at him to stop, but his lips are on my neck, his teeth nipping at my skin, and I’m drowning in the sensation.
“Darius,” I whisper, my voice a plea, but he ignores it, his fingers dipping lower, his thumb pressing against my clit again. I’m on the edge, teetering, my body begging for release, but he pulls away, his smirk triumphant. “Not yet,” he murmurs, his breath hot against my ear. “We’ve got time.”
The jet touches down with a jolt, the cabin lights flickering as the engines wind down. Darius leans back, his eyes never leaving mine, his hand still resting on my thigh, a silent promise of what’s to come. My heart is pounding, my body still buzzing with unspent desire, and I’m torn between hatred and a longing I can’t deny.
“We’re here,” he says, his voice calm, as if nothing out of the ordinary has happened. But I know better. I feel it
in the way my body still aches, in the way his touch lingers on my skin. The cabin door opens, and the stewardesses begin to move, their voices a distant hum. Darius stands, his boots clicking against the floor, his presence still dominating the space.
“Coming?” he asks, his tone amused, taunting. I glare at him, my defiance returning, but my body betrays me again as I shiver, my legs still weak. I smooth my sundress, trying to regain some semblance of control, but it’s no use. He knows. He always knows.
“Go to hell,” I mutter, but it lacks conviction. He chuckles, a low, dark sound, and leans in one last time, his lips brushing my ear. “You’ll be begging me to take you there soon enough, with my cock inside you,” he whispers, his breath sending a shiver down my spine.
And as he walks away, his boots clicking confidently, I’m left trembling, my heart racing, my body still humming with the memory of his touch. The jet’s cabin feels too small, too confining, and I’m acutely aware of Amina’s sleeping form, oblivious to the storm that’s just passed.
Darius is gone, but his presence lingers, a ghost on my skin, a fire in my veins. I hate him. I hate the way he
makes me feel, the way he controls me, the way my body betrays me at his touch. But as I sit there, my breath still ragged, my thighs still damp, I can’t deny the truth.
He’s right. I’m his. Every day every single touch broke my resolve to resist him.