Page 33 of Your Hate, My Claim
“Don’t flatter yourself. I don’t need games to get what I want.”
Arrogant prick.
I sit in the seat opposite him, my body stiff, trying to keep a distance like it meant something. Like it would help me keep away from him.
The flight attendant requests we all fasten our seatbelts and does the standard safety run through. Not that I need it. I have a feeling after several hours in this confined space with the demon across from me, I’d be willing to jump midair.
The jet hums beneath us as we start to taxi toward the runway, the lights of the airport turn to dots in the distance.
Silence again stretches and as I keep staring out of the window, I can feel Carlos watching me, like the heat of the sun burning my skin, and I hate the way my body reacts to his attention—tight, alert, traitorous. I didn’t want to be here. I didn’t want to want this.
“Why me?” I ask quietly with zero idea where that question came from. “You could have had anyone else. Why were you so determined on me?”
Carlos leans forward, elbows on his knees. He looks amazing today. Black pants and a white open shirt that highlights his beautiful skin. He has a single necklace on today with a diamond encrusted rectangle shape drop.
“That’s exactly why,” he says. Our eyes lock.
“You fight me. Everyone always plays nice. Smiles. Lies. But you,” his eyes drop to my mouth, full of possessive intent, “you glare at me like you’d rather burn me alive.”
“Don’t tempt me,” I say with a flat tone.
Carlos grins. “Oh I want you to be dangerous.”
The jet lifts off the ground, smooth and quiet. The cabin tilts as I grab the armrests harder than necessary.
As soon as it's safe to remove our belts, Carlos stands up slowly, and steps in front of me. I don’t move as my breath catches at his closeness.
He crouches in front of me, hands resting on the arms of my seat, close but not touching.
“Say you don’t feel it,” he whispers. “Say it and maybe I’ll back off.”
I sit in a trance, staring at him, trying to figure out if he is real or not. My throat is dry, my lips are parted, ready to answer, but no sound comes out.
He leans in further to me, his mouth an inch from my own.
“I didn’t think so.”
This motherfucker thinks he knows it all.
“I hate you,” I say sharply. Carlos chuckles low and dark. “You hate that you want me. Remember, I know all your secrets. You wouldn't do that with someone you hate.”
Then without touching me, he stands and steps back, as if he didn’t just ignite a fire like he did the other night.
As he takes a seat, he says. “It's a long flight. Get some rest.”
I sit rigid in my seat, heart hammering, body clenched. I don’t trust myself to speak. And I definitely don’t trust myself to sleep. Not with him in the same cabin. Not when everything in my body is screaming to close the distance.
A couple of hours into the flight and I still can’t settle. Everyone else has nodded off, leaving me sitting with my own thoughts. I’m bored. I also need a piss. I make my way down to the rear of the cabin and open the bathroom door, which has my mouth open at how big this is for a plane. It's bigger than most New York apartment bathrooms, which is crazy.
I do my business and wash my hands before checking my appearance in the mirror. This trip may be a good thing as I’m in need of a tan. I’m not sad about leaving the freezing weather of Grinston. I splash some water on my face and untangle my bracelets that I’ve gotten wet on my wrists. I don’t look too bad. Carlos was right, I own multiple items of the same clothing. Yet again I’m dressed in my fitted black t-shirt with black jeans. I will change it up in Rio though, as I do own some black shorts too.
Just as I open the door to return to my seat, Carlos is on the other side and immediately pushes both of his hands into my chest, forcing me to retreat back into the bathroom.
“Hey!” I shout, pushing him back.
His eyes are dark, full of a dangerous craving which I’m pretty sure is for me. I step back, my ass bumping into the counter where the sink is, and I intuitively hold my breath. He doesn’t speak as he lunges for me, slamming his mouth to mine. I can’t explain what happens, but I don’t fight back. I just let it happen. Maybe the cabin pressure is messing up my rational thinking, but all I can say to myself is ‘fuck it’. I clutch his shirt in my fists, pulling him closer to me as we deepen the kiss. Mouths wide, long, deep sensual strokes of our tongues have me mewling like a baby animal being given attention by its owner. Fuck, he knows how to kiss. His hands move up my back and reach the back of my head where he pulls on my hair, which I’ve noticed he loves to do. I wince into the kiss as he grips onto the strands hard, but all it does is cause flashbacks to the other night when those shocks of pain caused the most intense orgasm of my life. I’m not mad about adding a new sexual experience to my list.
Carlos pulls away, both of us panting as I watch him undo his pants, pulling out his magnificent cock. I lick my lips with thoughts of how good it must taste.
