Sometimes she didn’t know herself when she was with him. She lost that much control. They coupled wildly together. The couch wasn’t big enough to contain them.
At one point, Dragos pulled them to the floor so that he could hold her ankles wide as he fucked her. She reached for anything she could grasp to brace herself at the onslaught, while the unbearably intense pleasure shot straight into the stratosphere, higher than the plane, until she shattered with waves of completion.
The rest of the trip disappeared in a passionate haze. He took her again, standing and bracing himself with one hand against the wall, while she wrapped her legs around his waist and hung on for dear life.
Then the air pressure changed slightly, signifying descent, and the pilot’s voice came over the intercom. “Just wanted to check in to let you know we’ll be landing in twenty minutes. It’s a beautiful day in D.C. and unseasonably warm for October, a balmy 78 degrees and sunny. Looks like you’ll have good weather for the week.”
Dragos lifted his head from her shoulder. They were both sweaty, and his black hair looked even darker when damp.
She had started out the day by oversleeping, and now she had no strength in any of her limbs. She whimpered, “We have to be presentable in twenty minutes?”
Bending his head, he kissed her swiftly. “They’ll remain in the cockpit until I tell them they can come out.”
That would mean they would be sitting in the cockpit, knowing full well what she and Dragos had been doing in the cabin.
But who was she trying to fool? Their sex scent drenched the cabin air. Even if she rushed, as soon as the pilots stepped out, they would know what had happened.
She rubbed her face. Her skin felt abraded by his whiskers. “Fine,” she muttered. “I get to shower first.” If they were anywhere but on the plane, she would suggest that they shower together, but the shower, while luxurious for a jet, was too small to accommodate both of them at once.
He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Are you sure about that? You don’t look capable of moving.”
He sounded immensely satisfied with that fact. Bah, men. She tried to scowl at him. “Yes, I’m sure. You’re faster in the shower than I am. I have more hair to get clean than you do. Besides, if we’re not done by the time we land, I would rather they scented you, not me.”
His satisfied expression disappeared, and he scowled back. Clearly he didn’t like that thought either, even though their pilots were a mated pair of male Wyr ravens and wouldn’t be interested in Pia anyway. The dragon was an exceedingly jealous creature.
Standing, he scooped her into his arms and carried her to the back, into the luxurious bathroom. Then he set her on her feet again. He told her, “I’ll get your clothes. Hurry up.”
She chuckled and stepped into the cubicle for her second shower of the day. Hot water ran soothingly over tired, abused muscles, and while she wanted to stand there and soak it in, she forced herself to lather and rinse quickly, so Dragos could have the shower while she dressed.
The jet’s descent steepened as she inspected her clothes. It was her panties that had torn. She didn’t have time to dig out a new pair, so she stuffed them in the trash bin and dressed without them, then dug out a travel hairbrush from the stock of toiletries in the bathroom and yanked it through her wet, unruly hair. That was going to have to do. The pilots would still know what happened, of course, but it wouldn’t feel as exposing as having them scent it on her skin.
As she sat on the toilet to slip on her sandals, Dragos sluiced off within two minutes, dressed with quick economy and ran long fingers through his wet hair. Then together, they stepped back into the cabin and took their seats just moments before the plane touched ground.