The Naughty List: 25 Days of Sawyer’s Steamiest Scenes (Day #16)

I tear my mouth away from Camille’s and actually push her back, as if she has me under some spell that needs breaking. Her eyes flash with disappointment, then confusion, and settle on anger. None of those emotions make me jerk her back into my arms, hand once again on her nape to hold her in place.

It’s purely because I want it—and nothing else—that has me kissing her again.

What the fuck are you doing, Jackson? She’s a goddamn princess. You are being paid to protect her, not ravish her. You could be fired for this. Hell, she’s royalty… you could be placed in the guillotine. Your career could be finished, and your father’s disappointment would sink to depths you’d never recover from. Everything about this is wrong.

All those voices are screaming at me to push her away again, because this is so very wrong.

And yet, nothing has ever felt so right.

Camille’s hands come to my chest, fingers bunching the cotton polo as she digs her fingers tight to hold on. As if she’s afraid I’m going to push her away again.

But I’m not.

I’m going to continue to kiss her.

That’s all.

Just kiss because that’s all she’s asked of me.

Unless she asks for more, then I’ll give it to her. If she doesn’t ask, maybe I’ll give it to her, anyway.

Camille moans low in her throat, and the sound goes straight to my balls. Once again my lips free from hers, but I don’t push her away. I move my hands to the sides of her head to hold her because she’s trying to step into me, trying to force me to kiss her again, but I hold her in place.

My breathing is ragged from just a mere kiss, and that freaks me out. But I manage to say, “There’s your kiss. Now you have it, and it needs to stop here.”

Some of the hardest words I’ve ever had to say in my entire life. Almost as difficult as telling my father I wasn’t reenlisting.

I’m not sure what to expect from Her Royal Highness. Contrary to my previous thoughts, she’s not spoiled nor does she act entitled, but I know she has a strong mind. I know she’s the type that once she sets her sights on something, she won’t give up without a fight.

So what exactly does she want now?

My question—or maybe my prayers—are answered when Camille releases her grip on my shirt and slowly drags her hand down my abdomen. I can feel every individual muscle leap beneath her touch, and I groan when she palms my cock through my jeans.

She’s not shy about it either, her head bent to watch what she’s doing to me.

I have no clue what her sexual experience is. She’s almost twenty-five. I doubt she’s a virgin, but she’s also been fairly sheltered. On the other hand, she had four years away at college, and well … lots of sex happens in college. Whatever her experience, right now she acts like a fucking pro as she strokes the length of my erection from the tip and down again.

I slap a hand over hers with a low grumble of dissatisfaction.

Not that I’m dissatisfied with what she’s doing, but because I want more and I’m too weak to say no. Rather than pull her hand away, I cover it with my own and force her to put more pressure on my dick. A small gasp escapes her mouth, and she tips her head back to look at me.

Her voice is husky and yearning. “In case there’s any doubt, you know I want more than a kiss.”

There’s a touch of bitterness when I reply, “Because you want to get laid. And if I don’t give it to you, you’ll get it somewhere else.”

She shakes her head hard, eyes clouding with denial. “The only one I want is you, Jackson. It’s only you that I want between my legs.”

A rush of air leaves my lungs, releasing an unknown tension. It was galling me that she might give it up to anyone.

Her desire to have me between her legs causes me to abandon all my principles and scruples. I’m reduced to a man who is putting his career second and his own needs first.

I sweep Camille up in my arms and move from the entertainment suite into the master bedroom. The queen-size bed runs along the length of the plane, more than enough room for me. Rather than toss her down, I gently set her on her feet and take a step back, turning for the door.

I close it behind us and flip the lock. Paul isn’t going to come looking, but better safe than sorry. If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll stay away because at this point, I feel like I might murder anybody who would try to get between me and this woman.

“Take off your clothes for me,” I demand.

While Camille has come to know me some this past week and a half, she has no clue about the beast inside. I watch her carefully, making sure I’m not scaring her. I don’t want that, but the minute she palmed my cock, I knew those clothes were coming off.

Instead, I am mightily rewarded by simmering lust in her eyes, and her lips curl in a sexy little smile that says I accept your challenge.

Ever so slowly, Camille does a sensual strip of all clothing, but not in a teasing way. She’s deliberate and looks me straight in the eye the entire time as she drops each piece to the floor.

With every inch of skin revealed, every bit of lace peeled off, my heart races faster and faster. I almost swallow my tongue when she unhooks her bra and those heavy breasts are exposed, nipples already tight with anticipation. My mouth waters with absolute need to get them between my teeth.

And then she bends at the waist and shimmies white, lacy panties down those long legs. She kicks them off to the side and stands straight and proud.

She’s a goddess.

My perusal doesn’t start at her head but rather at the tips of her toes painted coral, up those tanned legs to the apex where dark golden curls wait for me to part them with my fingers and tongue.

Higher up past her curvy hips, back to those magnificent tits, and my throat is so dry by the time I reach her eyes, I’m not sure I can talk. Somehow, I manage to throw a few caveman grunts at her. “Get on the bed. On your back. Spread your legs.”

Camille sucks air in through her nose, nostrils flaring, but she doesn’t miss a beat. Stepping backward, she lowers herself gracefully to the mattress and swings her legs up. And fuck me, as she settles back on the pillows, she wantonly spreads her legs and even places her hands on her inner thighs, stroking them upward to her hips, up her stomach, and then lightly over her breasts before she stretches them above her head.

It’s an extreme act of wantonness.

I’m a goner.

“Do you really have condoms?” I ask, desperately wanting her to have them, and at the same time, desperately hoping she doesn’t because that would mean she was serious about a random hookup.

Camille shakes her head silently, a frown creasing her brow.

Strangely, I’m not disappointed. I don’t have any either, but that doesn’t mean we’re not going to get off.

I remove my clothes but a lot quicker than she did. I know our time is limited. Paul knows I’m having a “talk” with her about safety protocols for the rest of the trip so he’ll stay away, but a flight attendant might come to see if Camille needs anything.

When I’m fully naked, I take my cock in hand and stroke myself. Camille gasps, eyes flaring wide in shock—guessing she’s never seen that before. She then narrows right in on my hand to watch me intently.

“We don’t need condoms to make each other feel good,” I say, setting the tone that we won’t be having any penetration today.

My intent is to use my mouth to get her off, and that’s okay by me because I fucking love oral sex. Love a woman’s clit and how it can tear her apart with just the right touch. It’s my favorite part of a woman’s body. A fucking magic button.

But I don’t know what Camille’s experiences are. While I don’t mind bullying her around a bit to take off her clothes and get on the bed, I’m never going to ask her to do something for me she doesn’t want to do. I’ll see what she’s willing to give, and if she just can’t give me what I need since we don’t have condoms, I have my own hand to take care of matters.

For now, though, I want to see her splinter apart.

I move to the bed, crawl over her, and settle back on my heels in between her legs. My cock juts out, and her eyes are pinned helplessly on it.

“Do you want to touch it?” I ask with a grin.

Her eyes shoot up to mine. She sees me smiling and grins back. “I want to lick it.”

F-u-u-u-ck. I wasn’t ready for that. I want it but didn’t think she’d go right there.

Camille doesn’t hesitate, pushing up on the pillows. She then swiftly moves to her knees before me so all she needs to do is bend over my lap and she’ll have the power to destroy me.

I stop her with a hand to her shoulder. “Not like that,” I say gruffly, although what man wouldn’t want it just like that.

“How, then?” she whispers curiously.

“Like this.”

I take her in my arms and deftly bring us down to the bed so we are face-to-face, our bodies pressed tight against each other, my arm wrapped around her waist. Her skin is warm and sweet smelling, my hard cock trapped against her belly. But for the moment—for just right now—I want to kiss her again.

I lean in, brush my lips against hers, and she sighs. Then I kiss her more deeply, her tongue reaching out to touch mine. It’s a slow, leisurely mating of our mouths, and it fills me with a sense of completeness no mere kiss has ever done before. While I want her more than I’ve ever wanted a woman, I would be okay just kissing her.

But we’ve already decided she’s going to give me more, so I roll to my back, taking her with me. She’s now fully on me, her legs spread, and if she were to raise to her knees, twist her hips a bit, she’d be able to take me in and ride. I grit my teeth because damn, that’s a hot fantasy, but it’s not going to happen today.

“Turn around,” I tell her. She lifts her head to look down at me in question. I explain more clearly. “Turn your body around, position your pussy over my mouth and your head over my cock.”

Camille’s cheeks flame, but she doesn’t question me or hesitate. She spins so fast, she almost clocks me with a knee, but before I know it, her legs are straddling me reverse style and her palms are pressed into the mattress at my hips. Her ass sticks up like she wants to be mounted—another fantasy that will have to wait—and she’s hovering so close to my cock, I can feel her breath. I close my eyes to get my bearings and open them again.

She’s definitely too far away from me, so with a quick grab of her hips, I pull her back and then down so that her mound presses hard right on my mouth. She receives an open-mouth kiss on her sensitive flesh.

Camille bucks and cries out. I squeeze her ass hard, pull my mouth back, and mutter, “Better keep it down, Princess. Paul will come in with guns blazing.”

She giggles before apologizing. “I’m sorry. You caught me by surprise.”

“More surprises to come,” I say and pull her back down, shoving my tongue deep inside. She squirms, doesn’t cry out but utters a groan that I swear makes the whole cabin shake.

I push her up a bit to free my mouth and make a suggestion. “Something inside your mouth might help keep you quiet.”

Once again, she giggles, and it’s not silly like a girl, but it makes me grin.

“Understood,” she says, and then I get no warning. She dives on top of me, taking my cock in deep.

My hips tilt up and my fingers flex into her ass again, most likely leaving bruises. I have to grit my teeth to stop from barking out a lustful moan, and I realize… she has some experience. She sucks on me hard, pulls back to the tip, and then laves her tongue all around it.

Christ… she’s absolutely going to destroy me.

The only way I know to get some semblance of control is to concentrate more on what I want to do than what she’s doing to me.

I give her a long lick, and she responds with a hard pull of her mouth on my dick. I’m man enough to admit that she’s going to drive me over the edge quickly, not just because of her talented mouth but because I’ve got her sitting on my face and I have to hold her tight since she’s squirming all over the place. The fact I’m driving her crazy is driving me crazy.

Well, that, and now she’s playing with my balls while she blows me.

I use my tongue, my lips, and my teeth. I lift and rotate my head to reach all the right parts, manage to get my lips around her clit and suck on it. I twist my neck and bite the inside of her thigh, causing her to yelp around my dick, but she never misses a beat. Just sucks and strokes and fondles, and I can feel my balls tightening.

I nibble at her clit before I lash at it hard with my tongue. Camille cries over my cock with her need to release, but she keeps on giving me the best head of my life. I want her to come and come now, so I press two fingers into her pussy and drive them in deep.

Beautifully, Camille comes—her entire body quakes, slick walls pulsing around my fingers. I don’t know if it’s her intention or a reflex from the power of her orgasm, but she takes my cock in so deep, I can feel the tip breach the back of her throat, and it’s all I need to tumble after her.

My ass cheeks squeeze hard as I explode, flooding her mouth. Even as she continues to quake with her orgasm, my fingers pumping inside her, Camille doesn’t leave my dick alone. She sucks and licks and takes every fucking drop.

Like I said… I knew she’d destroy me.

When our bodies come down off the high, my dick slips out of her mouth. She falls forward and collapses on my body, her wet pussy on my chest and her cheek resting on my shinbone. I stare at the cabin ceiling, my hand stroking her hips and back, relishing the softness of her skin that I have not had time to appreciate.

I glance over at the bedside clock and see that I have been gone from Paul’s presence for a good fifteen minutes. I checked my watch before I headed to the entertainment suite to talk to Camille.

Squeezing her hips gently, I say, “We need to get dressed and get back out there so we don’t arouse suspicions.”

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Sawyer Bennett

New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal Bestselling author Sawyer Bennett uses real life experience to create relatable stories that appeal to a wide array of readers. Continue Reading