"I am not jealous," he growled, his eyes lighting from within. He grabbed my hips and hoisted me upward until my breasts were smashed against his face. He took one nipple in his mouth and flicked his tongue across the tip. And he is not your husband .
I clutched his shoulders, my entire body suddenly turning into one gigantic erogenous zone. My mistake. Would you please... Oh, yes.
His hands slid down my hips, around my backside, and down into depths that he had so recently plumbed. I bucked against his hands, trying desperately to hold on to my thoughts.
Do not fight your passion. Embrace it; don't deny it, he murmured into my head.
I can't help it. I know where this is going to end-more mind-blowingly fabulous sex, and given my jet lag and your insistence that you're the same as any other male, we'll both fall asleep afterward. We have to think of a plan, Kristoff. We have to think of a way out of here.
His mouth was hot and wet as he licked a path over to my other breast. I curled my fingers into his hair, nibbling his neck, sucking on his earlobe, my mind giving up the battle as the desire he stirred within me swelled upward.
I have a plan, he answered, opening his mind to me. I bit gently on a cord in his neck, the feeling of which drove me-drove him-nearly past the breaking point.
I slid backward, down his body, kissing a line down his belly. His muscles contracted tightly as I moved downward, soft little groans of pleasure filling my head. I paused for a moment when I got to his penis, smiling to myself at the sensations he was sharing.
Your plan involves a blow job. I meant we need to have a plan for escaping here with Mattias, finding Kristjana, and rescuing Ulfur.
Blow job first, then escape , he answered, a note of hopefulness lingering in the back of his mind.
I laughed at him, dipping my head down to take him into my mouth. I'll give it a shot, but I don't know if I'm any good at it.
His body stiffened for a moment, every muscle as hard as steel, and then suddenly I was lifted high over him, my knees straddling his hips, his penis poised to pierce me.
You're good.
Kristoff, wait! I yelled, desperately trying to squirm my hips away from the ecstasy that I knew stood one thrust away.
Hunger had burst into being hot and deep in him, rising until it threatened to snap the thin shred of control he held.
I won't drink from you, he said, a note of desperation evident in his thoughts.
No, it's not that. I'm a big girl; I have lots of blood-you're welcome to it.
Then why in the name of the saints are you stopping me when I know you want this as much as I do?
I almost sobbed, so desperate was I to feel the completion that I knew awaited me. "The plan! We can't wait until morning to figure out what to do. We have to do something tonight, while people are asleep."
He snarled a mental oath, then thought at me, images of us climbing down from the second-story window with Mattias, of guards distracted by Magda and Raymond, of us using the money he was supposed to have stolen to charter a plane to take us to California.
"No, we have to get Kristjana and Ulfur first. We'll have to go to Iceland."
The image altered to that of a fjord.
"And what about Magda and Raymond? I can't leave them here by themselves to face Christian and Sebastian-"
Hurriedly, he shoved Magda and Ray in front of the fjord.
"What about-"
With a wordless roar he plunged me downward. All my protests vanished instantly, as I knew they would. Every fiber of my body was focused on his pleasure, my own driving it as he urged me on faster. He sat up, teeth flashing for a second before they pierced the skin of my shoulder, my blood flowing down his throat like the sweetest nectar, soaking into parched cells that had too long been starved. My fingers curled into the thick muscles of his back as the combined sensation of his climax and mine sent my spirit flying.
It took a long, long while for me to drift back down to my body, but I did so with the echo of Kristoff's thought tolling in my head.
My wife, not his.
"Mile-high club?"
"Hmm?" I stopped as I passed where Magda was sitting in a center aisle row of the plane. Raymond was next to her, sound asleep, his head having slid to the side, with airline earphones still stuck in his ears, his mouth ajar as he snored. Magda had tucked a napkin under his chin.