One Hot Winter Break (Yardley College Chronicles Book 2) Read Free Page B

completely made of lace. I drove into the nearest metropolis to Milltown to buy new underwear, and used my textbook budget for next term to do it. But at least I look respectably sexy.
    Sticking my tongue out at Jonathon, I re-buckle the seatbelt. My jeans are down around my knees.
    “Spread your legs.”
    Jonathon did take me as his guest to one of his BDSM clubs in fall term, but nothing happened there between us, obviously. I knew Jonathon would be determined to push limits now that he has the chance. I just didn’t expect it would be on the plane.
    I’m nineteen and I’ve never done anything really kinky. But I’ve heard about kinky things. Read about them. Fantasized about them. I have to admit I’m royally excited by the combination of smooth leather beneath my half-bare butt cheeks, my anticipation, and Jonathon’s commanding tone. The lace of my panties is already wet.
    Jonathon’s big hands push my legs further apart—as far as my jeans will let him. His fingers pry my panties aside and I gasp at the brush of his fingers over my very sensitive pussy.
    Wow, we’re getting down to it pretty fast. I guess I thought there would be foreplay. Him kissing my mouth, my nipples, me getting to touch him all over—
    He strokes my clit with the edges of his fingernails and the scraping sensation makes me bolt up on the chair in shock. Watching me, he rubs his fingertip over that aching place in gentle circles.
    Oh. God.
    My fingers gouge into the chair arms. I almost climb up the back of the seat. I bite my lip. Then moan really loud.
    Okay, I don’t mind moving ahead quickly. But I glance desperately at the curtain.
    “She won’t come until she’s called,” Jonathon says.
    He just lets his fingers rest which gives me a chance to stop moaning and say, “You know, that statement can have more than one meaning.”
    He shrugs. “She is an employee of my father’s. Not my type. God, you’re soaking wet.” As if to prove it, he slides two of his fingers inside me, and I am indeed slick enough to take them right in. Deep. He crooks his fingers, draws them back and strokes a spot inside me that makes my head spin.
    All the while, his green eyes watch me, fringed by thick black lashes. I’m wriggling on the seat.
    “Don’t come yet, Mia,” Jonathon instructs. A wicked grin touches his lips.
    It’s torture not to start rocking on his fingers and turn my sexual arousal into a climactic explosion.
    The plane lurches forward and starts rolling down the runway.
    Under my lace undies, Jonathon’s thumb brushes my clit while his fingers slowly spread inside me. “When I’m ready, fantasy girl, I’m going to lick your pussy.”
    I squirm. And pant. I can’t believe I am having sex on a private jet on the way to paradise. But I wag my finger at him. “What about your seatbelt?”
    “Soon, Mia. There is something I need to do first.”
    He slips a third long, graceful finger inside me. I’ve watched his hands cup pints of beer, mugs of coffee, and was always impressed by how sexy and masculine they are. But having him slide three fingers in and out of my pussy is incredible. All the while, his thumb taps my clit.
    I’m going to come. I’m going to—
    To my shock, Jonathon stops, slides his fingers out, slips my panties back into place, and casually takes the seat beside me.
    “You’re stopping now ?” I gasp.
    He grins. “Once we’re in the air, I’m going to lick your pussy until you have a screaming orgasm. You are not allowed to come until then.”
    “What if I do?” I ask defiantly.
    “You will be punished.” He clicks his seatbelt into place. He winks—a long, sensual sweep of dark lashes. This is the guy who has listened to all my fears, who has done nothing but help me, so I don’t feel scared by his threat. I’m turned on by it.
    I sit there, my clit swollen and aching, while the plane takes off. Jonathon’s fingers stroke my wrist. Just that touch is enough to make me close to an