•10•

Noah

When the waitress returned, Dixie assumed the night was done, but I had other plans for her. I pushed her aggressively to the side of the car and began kissing her as soon as we got in the parking lot. I could kiss this woman all night if I wanted to. Like my fucking life depended on it. My tongue entered her mouth, and we started an intense make-out session. I could feel our passion and emotion intensifying as I plunged deeper into the kiss, biting and kissing her lips every chance I got. Everything happened so quickly, and I'm sure it shocked her, but that was exactly my goal.

My bulge became even larger as her hands ran around my body and tugged at my hair. As my hands moved up and down her body, my tongue glided in and out of her mouth. My hands made their way up her dress, past her thighs, and to her area. I massaging her clit, which elicited a muted sigh. It's amazing how sensitive she is to touch, particularly my touch.

On so many levels, this was wrong, but we both wanted it.

My rubbing got more vigorous, and her moans and cries became louder.

"P-p-please don't stop," she whispered into my ear which was a huge turn on.

A weird man approached the parking lot just as I was about to slip my fingers into her. I swiftly took my hands out from beneath her garments and started to unlock the vehicle. I could see the rage and bewilderment on her face, but I wasn't going to give her an explanation; she wasn't owed one. Dixie got into the car, irritated and upset. I understood her feelings, but I wasn't ready to embarrass her in front of others just yet.

Dixie

There were worse things than treachery, and Noah's latest stunt was certainly one of them. He came to a complete stop out of nowhere. Why would he do that? What's more, why did I just get down and dirty in the midst of a public parking lot? He's doing things to me that I'd never let anybody else do, and it's making me nervous because I have no idea what's going on. This was forbidden, but I didn't care because I wanted it, I wanted him, and I was going to get it.

It was a lengthy drive back to my house, so I figured I'd make myself at home in his car. The longer I sat, the more the events of the night replayed in my mind. Every touch and sensation he left on my skin was re-felted. I felt like I was reliving them.

"Don't touch yourself," he growled. "Don't touch what belongs to me," she said sternly.

What's his? He literally turned me on and then stopped doing what the fuck he was doing? And he thinks he's in a position to boss me around? He's lucky I won't cum and ruin his fucking seats.

"You're a fucking dick. Back there, you turned me on, and then le-"

He quickly stopped the car, turned around in his chair to grasp my throat, cutting my sentences off. This was supposed to be a sort of punishment, but all it did was turn me on more and more. So the joke was really on him.

"You don't fucking question me. A man was making his way towards the parking lot. Unless you wanted him to witness us about to fuck, which I assumed you didn't, so I stopped. You brat, you should learn to shut up more."

Everything that had just happened in the car had turned me on even more than I already was. And I was sure I was gonna die. I didn't know what to say—he was right that I didn't want the random man to see it—but a little communication wouldn't hurt.

"You ass could've said something." He chuckled and rolled his eyes at the same time.

"Pack a week's worth of clothes when I take you back to your place. We'll probably buy more clothes when we get there, and we'll have a lot to talk about."

"Get where?"

"We're leaving tonight on that trip I'm bringing you on."

I'm convinced he thinks I'm a puppet he can boss around. But I didn't disagree with him, so I guess that's what gave him the confidence he has when handling all things Dixie related.

•-•-•-•-•-•-•

"10 minutes," he said, "you have ten minutes."

"And if not, what?" I felt like putting him to the test, but I should have known better. It's never a happy ending for me.

"You fucking brat, God help you." He hissed. "That's 15."

"15?"

"How about we round that up to twenty?" He ruthfully suggested. "Mhmm 25? How about we round that up to thirty?"

What was he talking about? And where did those numbers come from?I just left the conversation right then and there, running up to get my things packed. I barely had ten minutes and only God knows what those numbers meant.

I packed lightly, making sure to include my necessities and undergarments—including lingerie—and, of course, I brought clothes as well. Those should be enough for a week or two.

Fuck, the ten minutes. I forgot about it. Here I was taking my own sweet time to do everything and only had ten minutes. How much time did I even have left? Like a minute or two, if I'm lucky.

It'll only take a minute or two for me to finish and run down the stairs. Our elevators barely worked and thankfully, I was on the second floor. Not much walking to do.

I didn't want to spend any more time in my apartment, so I grabbed my belongings, locked the door and headed downstairs. I texted in the family group chat, to let them know I'd be gone from home for a while, but I promised I'd be safe.

He scoffed, "You obviously don't know time, it took you 12 minutes." He couldn't possibly be keeping track of my time.

He took us to a nearby open area. So I assumed we'd be flying or flying in a private jet.

"I'm hoping you're not afraid of heights."

"It depends on whether you're going to fuck me on the plane or not," I stated this as I walked away, rolling my eyes.

I knew the statement would get me in hot water, but I was in the mood to take chances.

The jet was colossal and gleaming white. As I boarded the plane, I noticed three people: the pilot, a random guy, and a flight attendant. This is the least packed flight I've ever been on but at least I could randomly walk about without being stared on by a million passengers.

"I'd like to introduce you to someone, Bryce. Dixie, this is Bryce, and Bryce, this is Dixie."

That's his best friend, I see. We've just spoken briefly  about him before, but he's someone I've never met. I'm curious as to what he was up to on this trip.

"Hello, Bryce. It's great to meet you. Do you fuck your students as well?" I was teasing.

I knew Noah would be upset, but it didn't bother me.

"Ms. D'Amelio, I'm not a professor, but I am with a woman your age. Her name is Halley, and she is a senior at your college. You'll be meeting her soon."

That's where being rude got me; I was doomed. Noah would be furious, and at the very least I'd be able to say my orgasm denial was earned!

Noah signaled for me to accompany him to the back of the plane, which was surprisingly roomy. He could undoubtedly take me right here, right now.

You fucking whore......my thoughts prevailed!

I sat my baggage on the seat and walked directly to the plane's back row. Noah returned to the same location and drew the curtain divider close. Wow, what a sense of solitude. He took a seat, and fuck it was hot. When he sat down in the wide area, his muscles pressed through his shirt, and he began to rub his temple. He looked at me, effectively eye-fucking me, and then drew me over his lap to the point where I was straddling him in one fast action.

"That stunt you pulled was not amusing; it was charming, but not amusing. I should've fucked you against the plane window instead."

"Then why didn't you?"I murmured this as I carefully rose from his lap. I was well aware that I was playing with the devil, but it was a nice game that I knew I'd lose ultimately. That is the objective.

Noah gripped my throat without skipping a beat. I was gasping for air, and dammit, I was excited. This was a scorcher. Something about having my airways obstructed makes me want to cum inexorably.

You're such a whore Dixie.....thoughts thoughts thoughts.

"Every day," he said, "Every fucking day, you put my fucking patience to the test." He then let go of my hand and exited the room. Is it bad that I wanted him to punish me? Or that I wanted more for him? But given my behavior earlier, I'd be sure if he even touched me for the rest of the ride.