Page 37 of Over & Out (Redbeard Cove #3)

Chris

H e wasn’t lying. The first time I come, the plane actually jolts. I know it’s a coincidence, but with the way I bucked and flailed, my whole body rippling through with a pleasure so extreme it almost felt like too much, I’m convinced we had something to do with it.

The second time? Well, I don’t want to know where he learned all the things he did to me.

The suction on my clit was better than any of the toys I own, and they’re the best of the best. The perfect amount of firm and gentle, in a cycle so intense I could barely gather the breath to cry out his name.

But I did. I screamed his name like a wild woman, a woman possessed.

A woman who’d just been given the most intense orgasm I’m pretty sure anyone’s experienced. Ever.

I have to drag him up by his hair, his ears, anything, to give me the tiniest breath of respite.

He lies beside me, resting his head in his hand, his eyes on me. I expected him to be desperate. To insist he take off his pants and get us to the next step. But he doesn’t seem to be in any hurry.

“The plane’s going to land soon,” I say, tracing my finger over the curve of his shoulder through the thick thread of his button-down. He’s still wearing all his clothes, which makes me feel dirty in the best way. Wanton.

Just looking at him like this—so handsome, glowing in the milky morning light coming in through the windows—makes want him to settle between my hips once more.

Hopper kisses my jaw. “I’ll tell them to circle the airport.”

I laugh. “We’ll run out of fuel.”

He nips at my collarbone. “Then I’ll tell them to glide.”

“We’ll crash into the ocean.”

“Then I’ll have all the time in the world to fuck you on one of those inflatable dinghies.”

“Hopper! That’s not sexy to think about.”

“But you are. Every fucking millimeter of you is my erogenous zone.”

“That’s not how those work.”

“Sure it is.” He hooks a finger in the neck of my dress, kissing the top of my breast. But he glares at the offending fabric when it doesn’t stretch farther.

“I want to see all of you,” he says.

My stomach twists. “I told you. I don’t?—”

“You didn’t.”

“What? ”

“You didn’t used to show anyone your body, and that’s good, because that means I’ll be the first. And last.”

Now my chest joins in with my stomach. He can’t possibly think we have a future, can he?

But what if we can?

I refuse to let myself think about that. This is just what it is. A bad idea. A one-off. The best sex I’ve ever had, and he hasn’t even taken his pants off yet.

What if I did show him all of me?

“That’s just it, Hopper. I’m afraid if you see all of me and you don’t run for the hills…well.”

“Well what?” He brushes hair off my cheek.

“I’m afraid I’ll be done for,” I whisper, my heart fluttering. I can’t believe I just confessed that.

He gives me his million-dollar grin. Like, literally, that grin can probably be quantified, and I bet it’s worth is higher than that.

“You mean you’d be like me.”

“You’re done for?” I ask, my stomach flipping now. All my organs are in turmoil.

“You read my bad poetry. I…I’m very into you, Chris.”

I shake my head. “Impossible.”

He frowns. “Why?”

“Because. We’ve only known each other a month.”

Something comes over his face. Something pained, but not regretful. “Sometimes, I feel like I’ve known you a lot longer than that,” he says.

My heart swells, because… “Sometimes I get that feeling too,” I say.

Then I feel immediately foolish, because of course I do.

He’s famous. I knew him as the Du ke. And I knew of him before.

He’s kind of a household name. For a minute I have another one of those out-of-body moments where I can’t believe this is actually happening.

Me, on a bed, on a private plane, with Hopper Donnach.

Who’s just given me the biggest orgasms of my life. Who just alluded to a future with me.

I try not to panic.

Hopper drags a hand up my bare leg. But his eyes are on me. I can feel them.

“Cherry,” Hopper says under his breath.

I meet his gaze. “What is with you and your random words?”

“Your cheeks. I’ve been studying all your shades for a while.”

I clap my hands over my cheeks as I feel them grow hot. I’ve always been so embarrassed by the way my feelings show up on my face. “It’s not fair,” I say. “I’m so transparent.”

“It’s beautiful.” Hopper’s voice sounds almost reverent.

“I mean it. I think my favorite is English rose. It’s the color you turn when you’re just a little bit pissed off at me but not enough to clap back.

Actually, I like crimson too. That’s when you do clap back.

Tomato’s when you’re really exerting yourself?—”

I shove him sideways. “You need to stop talking!”

Hopper flops onto his back, laughing.

“You know the best way to get me to stop talking?” he says.

“Dare I ask, Duke?”

He waggles his eyebrows. “Perhaps,” he says in the Duke’s lilting accent, “my lady would like to mount my mustache. It’s a fine steed.”

At that, I burst out laughing. “You did not just offer me a mustache ride.”

Hopper grips me by the hips and actually lifts me off the bed. I have no idea how, since he’s also lying horizontally. But one moment I’m beside him, and the next, I’m straddling his hips.

“I did,” Hopper says, beckoning me upward with his hands. He mocks doing mouth exercises, and I can hardly breathe, I’m laughing so hard.

“No!” I exclaim. I lean back, trying to stop looking at him. Because this is hands-down the most fun I’ve ever had. And it’s not even the sex part.

But when I look back at him, he’s staring at me in a way that makes me melt into putty.

“I want to hear you laugh forever, Chris,” he says.

“Then keep being ridiculous.”

He grips my hips. “Deal.” His teeth clamp down on his bottom lip, and he lifts one brow. “Well?”

“Attention, Mr. Donnach, Ms. Maplewood.” The pilot’s voice crackles over the speaker, startling me. “If I could ask you to return to your seats, we’re going to begin our descent in just a moment. Please fasten your seat belts?—”

While the pilot speaks, Hopper lifts me up, settling me over his face.

“Hopper!” I whisper. “He’s going through the safety?—”

But my eyes roll back in my head as Hopper pulls me down onto his tongue. I groan as he circles my clit, sucking and flicking and fucking me with his tongue so hard and so fast I come yet again, bucking wildly.

“…and a reminder that your emergency exits are to the left”—the captain says; I’m still coming—“should you need them.”

I think I’m going to faint. I roll over the last of the waves, crying out his name until I’m fully spent.

But Hopper’s not done with me yet. “I told you I’m going to fuck you while we’re still in the air, bangles,” Hopper says as he gently lifts me off him.

He’s up on his feet, next to the bed, unbuckling his pants.

“I plan to make good on that.” I watch as those expensive chinos drop to his ankles. The plane dips downward.

I shriek.

Hopper grins, bracing his hand on the ceiling above. It’s not difficult since he has to duck where he’s standing. “Was that for me or the plane?”

I breathe hard, trying not to freak out. “Both.”

“Hey, you want to go to your seat?” he asks, pausing with his hand over the bulge in his shorts. He’s teasing me, but there’s a note of seriousness in his tone too. He’d be fine if I went. He wants me to feel safe.

I have never not felt that, not even when he was running away.

I shake my head. “Not yet.”

He slips his hand under his waistband and pulls himself out. “How about now?”

That’s Hopper, right to the point. Heart on his sleeve.

Dick in his—holy shit. Of course Hopper’s dick is large.

Not, like, porn star large, but it’s definitely bigger than I’ve ever seen.

Granted I’ve only seen a few. Most of my encounters have been fumbling in the dark.

No lights equaled less chance they’d see anything.

The plane dips noticeably and I let out another yelp. “Shouldn’t we be in our seats for real?”

Hopper reaches into the little table next to the bed and pulls out a condom. “Probably. But I thought you liked living on the edge.”

“I did…I do… Wait, those are just in there?” My mind is spinning. He’s right. I didn’t used to be a scaredy-cat.

“You might be surprised to know we’re not the only people that have made use of this bed.”

“Oh God.”

“It’s just like a hotel.”

“I don’t want to think about it.”

“No?” Somehow between talking about this and him kneeling on the bed, he’s sheathed his cock and pulled me to the edge of the mattress. He’s on his knees, his hand dipping down between my legs.

I moan as his thumb finds my clit.

“This isn’t safe,” I say, waves of pleasure already building.

“Not at all. Should we go to our seats?”

“I didn’t mean that.”

He freezes. “Should I stop, Chris?”

I look at his cock as he brushes it against my clit. “No.”

“I don’t know what things are going to look like tomorrow,” Hopper admits. He tips my face up with his opposite hand, looking at me seriously.

You’d think it’d be hard to focus with his dick notched at my entrance, my body inching forward to coax it into place.

“But I promise,” he says. “I’ll always keep you safe.”

“Except now.”

He grins wickedly. “If you’d let me fuck you, maybe we’d finish in time for the landing.”

“Okay, go. Yes. Now.”

He doesn’t wait another second. He grips my ass and jerks me onto him. The look on his face is one of pure, liquid pleasure. “Good girl,” he whispers.

“We’re now beginning our final descent,” the captain says as Hopper begins to thrust. “We should be in for a smooth landing, but just in case, I’d like to remind you to ensure your seat belts are buckled, your trays are in their upright positions…”

“Now we’re really in trouble,” Hopper rasps under the captain’s voice as I arch backward.

“Because I don’t want to be done with you yet.

” He takes my breast in his hand and plants his mouth on my fully clothed nipple.

Even through the fabric of my dress, I ache at the touch, at the dampness of his tongue soaking through.

I grip the sheets, looking down on this man treating me with absolute reverence.

As if he’s felt my eyes on him, Hopper’s gaze drifts up to me, and when our eyes lock, the rush of feelings that jolt through me aren’t just physical.

When I reach up and thread my hands through his hair, Hopper’s jaw clenches, his eyebrows furrowing, and his eyes, the need and want, the adoration and almost pain in his eyes, have my heart beating like thunder.

Hopper reaches up and grasps my face, holding me there like he has to anchor himself against me.

“Chris,” he rasps with an intensity bordering on desperation.

The word is a plea. Like he feels the way I do—like I want him closer, even though we’re as close as we can get. Like he needs our souls to intertwine.

I clench around him as he thrusts. “Hopper,” I cry, begging for relief. Each time he pulls himself out, then fills me again, my eyes roll back in my head.

“Okay, sweetheart,” Hopper says, as if giving in. He drops his hand finally, to draw circles over my clit. “My beautiful girl.”

I melt away then, forgetting everything but the feel of Hopper Donnach. What I feel for him is not only edging out anything I’ve ever known, but skyrocketing past what I thought I was even capable of feeling.

“Hopper, I’m—” I’m out of words, that’s what I am. As I approach my fourth—fifth?— climax, Hopper cradles my head, cupping my crown in his wide grasp. “You’re beautiful, Chris,” he tells me. “Everywhere. Inside and out. I’m going to make it my life’s mission to make sure you know that.”

Hopper strains as he thrusts into me with increasing speed, and I cry out each time he relentlessly fills me.

His handsome face is strained, contorted with pleasure and need, the low, guttural sounds he’s making those of a wild beast. The wild, desperate look in his eyes shows me he’s lost all restraint.

As I approach my climax, I find myself quite literally screaming—both Hopper’s name and maybe in a tiny moment of terror—a random cry at what we’re doing.

I come at the same time as the plane’s wheels hit the tarmac, and the moment he feels me release, Hopper does too, like he was waiting for me, barely hanging on.

He cries out almost as if he’s in pain, clutching my head to his as his whole body turns to steel.

As he cries out my name over and over again.

Then he collapses, keeping the bulk of his weight on his elbows so he doesn’t crush me. His face is buried my neck now, his shoulders still heaving.

The plane shudders as it slows. That’s when I start to laugh.

Hopper looks up, his face ravaged, his brows coming together.

“I can’t believe we just did that,” I whisper.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the surprisingly verbose captain crackles through the speakers.

Hopper’s face splits in a grin then too, and as the plane begins to slow, Hopper rolling off me, we’re both laughing so hard we’re wheezing.

“I’d like to thank you for flying with us. This is your captain, over and out.”

“Over and out,” Hopper says as he breathes hard.

His smile drops as he stares at my face, smoothing away the hair sticking to my skin.

Then his lips curl up and he slides down to kiss my swollen clit, giving it one last stroke of his tongue.

“I’ll be seeing you again very soon,” he says.

I launch into another laughing fit, even as pleasure I thought was spent ripples through me.

“Over and fucking out.” I say on a dreamy, still-laughing exhale.