Page 11 of Marrying the Silver Fox

His lips quirk upward, and he leans back in his seat. “Then come here and show me what you want.”

I hardly even know what I’m doing as I rise to my feet and make my way over to him. I should stop this. Hell, I hardly even knew this man’s name at the beginning of the day, and now I’m walking over to him, about to sink down into his lap like it’s the most natural thing in the world?

But then I remember that kiss at the altar, his mouth on mine, and I know it’s more than just the fact that I’m technically his wife that has me making my way toward him. It’s the curiosity, the interest in finding out just how far we can take that chemistry between us…

He takes me by the hand and pulls me into his lap in a single motion, hand firm, leaving no room for argument. My breath hitches. His arm snakes around my waist, and the food sits in front of us, forgotten.

“Our wedding night,” he murmurs to me, and he reaches for the glass of champagne before him, resting it on the arm of the chair as he holds me there on his lap. He trails his fingers around the glass, and then dips them into the champagne, before lifting them to my mouth. “Open.”

I do as I’m told at once. It’s as though I’m under some kind of spell, but it’s an enchantment I don’t want to end. When it does, I will have to face up to the mess that I currently find myself in, but here in the air, high above the truth of it all, I’m just staring back at this handsome man who seems to want nothing more than to make me his.

He slips his fingers past my lips, and I taste the champagne and his skin on my tongue. My thighs press together as I attempt to contain the heat brewing there, growing to the point of no return. I should know better, God knows I should, but it feels damn close to impossible when he’s looking at me like that.

He moves his fingers from my mouth to the glass, feeding me drops of champagne from his fingertips as he watches me. It’s a test, I’m sure of it, to see how willing I am to go along with everything he wants from me. And despite myself, I can’t deny how much more I crave. I shift in his lap again, and I can feel him starting to stir against me, the hardness of his cock coming to life where he’s pressed against my thighs.

He drops his hand from my mouth again, but this time, he doesn’t make a move to gather more champagne. No, this time he brings his hand to my face, just like he did at the altar. But right now, we’re not standing in front of a room full of people. It’s just us, the distant roar of the engine, the dinner abandoned on the table before us…

And before I can stop myself, I lean in and kiss him.

5

ANDIE

As soon as our mouths meet, I know that any pretense I’ve been clinging to that this is not going to take a turn is finally forgotten. It seems to be the permission Nikolai has been waiting for, as his tongue snakes into my mouth, delving deep into me as though determined to taste the champagne straight from my tongue. His teeth catch against my lip, and he lets out a low growl against me, as though I’ve revived something near-animal inside him that he can’t even begin to hide from.

He grasps my hips, pulling me on top of him properly so that I’m straddling him. The new dress I’m wearing is soon discarded, as he slides his hand to the zipper at the back, tugging it down with ease and letting it fall from my shoulders.

My first instinct is to cover myself, having always been a little self-conscious of my body—how skinny it is compared to other women, how I lack curves where so many have them. But he pulls my arms away, his eyes darkening with a sheer, unbridled lust.

“Let me see you,” he murmurs, pinning my hands to my sides—and as his gaze sweeps up and down my body, it’s as though I’m being truly seen for the first time.

He kisses me again, mouth on mine as his hands make short work of my bra, and then he works his way down to my breasts, drawing my nipple between his lips and tugging on it lightly. I gasp, and when I look down at him again, I can see him grinning, as though he enjoys the way I respond to him, the helplessness with which I give in to his touch.

He brings his hands to my waist, gripping me tight, stroking down to my hips and hooking his fingers around my panties. “Stand up.”

His voice is so commanding, I find myself doing as I’m told before I can even make sense of it, rising to my feet and standing before him. I’m breathing hard, my heart pounding against my ribs, and he leans back in his seat, surveying me for a moment as he takes another sip of his champagne like I’m the evening’s entertainment.

What the fuck am I doing? A part of me knows that this is insane, but then, this whole fucking thing is insane. If I can take some control of it back, I should do whatever I can to make that happen. I feel utterly exposed, but there’s something about knowing that I’m under his control like this that thrills me, whether I can work out why or not.

“Take off your panties.”

I hesitate, as it suddenly strikes me that we’re not the only ones on this place. The last thing I want is for the attendant to come check on us again, only to be flashed by my naked body…

“Andie. Take them off.”

I flick my gaze to the door, and he reaches out without looking, flicking a lock to make sure we will not be disturbed. He leans back in his seat once more, and looks at me with an expectant gaze.

And before I know it, I find my fingers coming to my panties, hooking around the simple black cotton as I begin to peel them off my body. They cling to my slick pussy for a moment before I manage to slip them off, and a moment later, I find myself standing before Nikolai, totally nude.

He’s still dressed, and I’m distinctly aware of the difference between us. Of how exposed I am, how powerful he still is. For some reason, it only heats the fire in my belly to an even more intense temperature.

“Fuck,” he groans, his teeth gritted as he leans forward, taking me in like I’m a work of art. The way his gaze works over me, drinking in every inch of me, I’m not sure anyone has ever looked at me like that before in my life. The sheer need in his gaze, it’s like he would do anything to keep me here, like he wants to preserve this moment in his memory any way he can.

I don’t make a move to cover myself, not feeling like I have to anymore. In the dim light of the plane, the clouds filling the sky around us, it’s like we’re the only two people in the world, and I love the way he looks at me too much to deny him more. I part my legs slightly, and notice the way his gaze follows my movement, taking in my sodden folds and grinning as though he knows exactly what they mean.

“Touch yourself for me,” he orders me, closing his hand around the champagne again and taking another sip.

My hand moves almost of its own accord to my pussy, fingers grazing over my wetness before I part my lips to stroke my clit the way I would if I were at home in bed by myself.