Peasants and Kings - Emma Slate Page 0,57

her femininity. Her smile was kind and genuine when she asked, “What can I get you to drink, ma’am?”

“Sparkling water, please.”

“And for you, sir?”

“I’ll have the same. Thank you.”

She nodded and went to fix our drinks, and then returned a few minutes later to set our glasses and two cloth napkins embroidered with ‘H.R.’ on the table between us. Hadrian and I sat in silence as we sipped our sparkling waters. I stared out the window and watched airport crew moving next to the plane, inspecting everything to ensure we were ready for departure.

The pilot came to personally speak to Hadrian. “Sir, we’re on schedule and are clear for takeoff. Would you like to depart?”

Hadrian reached over and made sure my seatbelt was buckled tight, letting his hands linger for a moment. He smiled slightly and then settled back into his luxurious leather seat before looking at the pilot and saying, “Aye.”

I glanced out the window as the engines whined and we taxied away from the gate, excitement bubbling in my stomach. A few minutes after takeoff, the pilot announced that we’d hit altitude and could travel around the cabin.

Hadrian unbuckled his seat belt and stood. “Come on, I want to show you the jet.”

We left the dining area and I followed Hadrian down the aisle to the rear of the plane. We passed two additional sections. One area sat four people close together and the other was a work and entertainment area with a large television and a small, stylish desk. When we got to the end of the aisle there was a wall with a small door between it and the rear of the plane marked ‘Private’. Hadrian pushed open the door to reveal a tasteful bedroom, and an aircraft-sized, well-designed bathroom.

“It’s not as big as some,” he said with a wry grin. “But I use the plane mostly for business. And a little bit of pleasure.”

I looked at him and raised my eyebrows. “Pleasure?”

Hadrian gently urged me into the bedroom and quickly followed. He shut the door behind him.

“Get on the bed,” he ordered, his voice steel.

I looked away from the king-sized bed with beautiful slate gray satin sheets and light wood accents to stare at him. “You want me on the bed?”

“The bed,” he commanded again.

“You don’t really want me to…with a flight attendant up front?”

“Eden,” he said, voice low. “Get on the bed.”

It was clear Hadrian did not like my hesitation. He waited, silently commanding me. I settled myself in the middle of it, on my back, and peered at him.

He remained by the door, his body taut. “Unbutton your jeans.”

My fingers fumbled with the button of my pants.

“Unzip them.”

I unzipped.

“Touch yourself.”

My eyes widened. “While you watch?”

“You did it the night we spent at The Mansion,” he reminded me. “Why are you shy now?”

“That was different,” I protested.

“Why?”

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” I admitted. “And that was only for a few seconds before you—”

“What about when you’re alone? Don’t you touch yourself when you’re alone?” he asked, his mouth turning up at the corners.

“Of course I touch myself,” I exclaimed. “But I’ve never done it in front of someone…”

“It’s the first of many new things we’ll do together, Eden. Now touch yourself. And make yourself come. I want to see you.”

“I don’t know if I can.”

“Close your eyes,” he said. “Pretend I’m not watching you. Make me the center of your fantasy.”

His eyes were stormy with want.

I kicked off my boots and shimmied my jeans down my legs, tossing them aside. Hadrian’s eyes roved hungrily over my bare legs and lace.

Black. French. Taunting.

“Close your eyes,” he said again.

I shut my eyes and skimmed my fingers up and down my upper thighs before resting my hand on the seam of my body. I slowly began to play with myself over my underwear, enjoying the tease of my fingers through the lace.

I pretended my fingers were Hadrian’s, rougher, blunter, more commanding than I could ever be. I finally slipped inside my underwear and touched myself.

Skin to skin.

I ached with the desire to be filled. I spread my legs wider and heard his breath catch. Could he see that I was wet through the fabric? Wet for him? Could he see what this was doing to me? Could he see how much I desired him even though he wasn’t even touching me?

I slid my fingers into my body, my thumb stroking the bundle of nerves between my legs.

“Hadrian,” I whispered, my eyes opening.

Our gazes locked;

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