Flight of Fantasy

This is an AU, AH, OOC, M-rated E & B o/s (ha ha, how many more acronyms can I get in there?) written for my man. It was his birthday, and we were squeezed into economy class on a flight from London to Cape Town when I started it. It is just a bit of fun. Sadly, there is no way you can get away with this in economy class. E & B are English, so they speak and think in English spelling. Perry Maxwell was my beta extraordinaire.

I knew I was going to enjoy this job. First class trip to Cape Town, fully covered, a single room in a boutique hotel for a week, thrown in as part of the deal; and when the client wandered in and sat down in the seat next to me, I was so excited I almost rubbed my hands together with glee. He was fuck-hot.

He glanced at me and smiled politely before busying himself with arranging his stuff. But then he kept glancing at me, as though he liked what he saw, too. I love the business I have built up for myself, but this looked like it was going to be so much more fun than usual.

On the briefing sheet James had prepared for me, the information given was that Mr E A Cullen was 41 years old, recently divorced, no kids. I don't often bother with a photograph, because it doesn't matter what the clients look like; they're paying. Usually they were unexceptional looking anyway. But, if I'd seen a photo of this man, I think I would have squealed with delight.

He was tall, slim, but built, you know? His hair was a gorgeous, strawberry- blonde – no, darker than that, almost a bronze colour, and it was thick and messy over his completely gorgeous head and face. He had a bit of designer stubble lining a really strong jaw, and the features of his face were so defined and symmetrical, they could easily support a pair of ridiculous eyebrows, and still look divine.

He must have been one of the last passengers to board. As soon as he was settled, the flight attendants were busying themselves offering drinks and preparing the cabin for take-off. We both accepted a glass of fizz from a scary looking hostess in too much make-up – she couldn't keep her eyes off Mr Cullen's sweet looking jaw either, I noticed. Perhaps she wanted to lick it as much as I did.

We hadn't spoken yet. I always let the clients take the lead in the initial stages; men like to feel in control of that part. He kept smiling slightly in my direction, though. I watched him pull a letter out of his jacket pocket, and tap it on his knees. It was marked 'Don't open until you are in the air!' in a woman's handwriting (I could tell these things; and yes, it was very nosy of me to look.)

We started rollingThe airplane began to taxi down the runway, and he evidently couldn't take the suspense any more. I watched him rip the envelope open and pull out a single sheet of thick, creamy paper. He chuckled at first, and then he blanched. I swear, I have never seen anyone blanche before, but that is exactly what he did – his beautiful face went from tan and smiling to chalk-white and horrified in a matter of seconds. Then he glanced at me again, but this time he looked mortified.

I decided to introduce myself.

"Mr Cullen? Hi, I'm Bella. It's nice to meet you." He took my proffered hand gingerly. He still looked mortified. He closed his eyes as he lightly gripped my fingers. I have to say, this wasn't quite what I expected. His hand on mine felt lovely, though, warm and strong and gentle. Funnily enough, even though he couldn't look at me, he didn't let go right away.

"Is everything okay?" I thought I had better check.

He scrunched his eyes closed even tighter. Bad feelings began to stir in the pit of my stomach. A seemingly dream job was starting to look anything but, in just a matter of seconds.

"Ah, er, Bella – Bella who?" he said.

"Oh, sorry. It's Bella Swan, of Swan Fantasies Ltd?" It came out like a question, because I was thinking 'What the hell? He doesn't know who I am?'' "You booked a fantasy, Mr Cullen, and well, er, I'm it!" I forced a big, cheerful smile onto my face.

Even though disappointment was to be expected in my line of "work", up to now it had always been my disappointment with the client – never the other way around; I wasn't quite sure how to handle the rejection that seemed imminent judging by Mr. Cullen's face. And I'd gone through the torture and hell it took to get me to look like this – I mean, Brazilian wax, the full works!

He cringed again! This was looking bad. I was starting to feel really uncomfortable.

"Uh, Ms Swan, you see – that is – it wasn't me who booked this, er, this -" he swept his hand back and forth between us, failing to find the words to describe our – relationship?

"Not you? I'm so sorry, have I made a mistake?" I was horrified – did I have the wrong man?

I scanned my eyes around the first-class cabin, looking for another single man who might be expecting me. There were a couple of men in seats on their own, but both were completely absorbed in their newspapers, and didn't look as though they were expecting a liaison at all. Still, that didn't mean anything;, it could have been part of the fantasy.

I checked my seat number again, and reached into my bag for the briefing sheet. It had said Cullen, though, definitely, I clearly recalled – yes; there it was, the name printed in capitals at the top of the page, along with the fantasy heading – 'Join the Mile High Club with a Classy Lady'. The title was awful; I really was going to have to talk to James about that. He often went off into his own fantasy land when preparing the briefs.

But that was beside the point.

I showed the man I'd thought was my client the briefing sheet. "Is this not you? I can't imagine how a mistake like this was made..." I trailed off as he snatched the paper from my hand.

"Oh my god, oh my god, what the fuck was she thinking?" He brought a hand up and rubbed it exasperatedly over his eyes. "Yes, this is me, but I'm afraid this was booked without my knowledge. Swan Fantasies Ltd?"

"Yes, that's me. Well, me and a small band of employees. I don't know how this could have happened in error, Mr Cullen; my staff usually does thorough background checks before we take on a client. And we always take payment in advance – this cost you a lot of money, sir, it couldn't really have been done in jest. It's just not possible!" Embarrassment and nerves were making me lose my cool. I rubbed my hand over my face.

"No, this is no joke, is it, Ms Swan? I fear this was done in the name of vindictiveness, not humour. Shit."

We sat in silence for a bit, probably both contemplating our predicament. Well, I know I was. Damn, I was so looking forward to this job!

I couldn't work out how this could have happened. James must have really fucked up this time. I reached for my phone and pulled it out, funnily enough just as the gorgeous Mr Cullen did the same thing. And we both must have realised at the same time that our phones were switched off and would have to remain so. If the constant warnings about keeping them off being relayed through the airline speakers weren't enough, our eagle-eyed attendant raising her unnaturally thin eyebrows at us quickly made us slip our phones right back where we found them.

We glanced sheepishly at each other, and then I turned to look out of the window. We were miles above London, with the lights blinking beautifully below us. I'm usually pretty nervous at take-off and landing, so the fact that I had missed the whole damn thing proved to me what a mess my head was in. Crap, I thought, now I have to fly all the way to Cape Town with this man – how embarrassing!

The hostess came back, and we both nodded enthusiastically at her suggestion of a cocktail before dinner.

I gratefully accepted mine, and told her to keep them coming. Mr Cullen agreed, and to be honest, if it wasn't her job to serve me, I don't think she'd have paid me any mind as she sought to cater to him. I decided to take full advantage of our predicament and see if, despite the odds, I could cash in on his good looks while I could. Twelve hours is a long time, after all.

I gulped half of my drink down, and determined to go back to being brave and forward. No point in not being myself, was there?

"So, Mr Cullen, somehow you've paid a shit load of money for a fantasy you don't want, which I understand completely, but I'm still here. And I'm not going anywhere for the next twelve hours. We could chat, get to know each other a little."

I gave him my best Bella smile, all sweetness and innocence, with a touch of 'my, you look like you've got a big cock', which is Jake's description, by the way, not mine. It often works for me, though. And in this case, it was genuinely what I thought.

Jake is one of my three employees, in case you want to know. He does the fantasies for the WMMCs (that's Women with More Money than Charm; we have to use a lot of weird acronyms in this business.)).

Mr E A Cullen hit me right back with a scorching smile that said 'I may not want to know what you keep in your panties right now, Bella Swan, but I could change my mind later if you can make all this embarrassing shit go away'. I'm good at reading people, I have to be, and honest to god, that is what his smile said. Not to mention how it crinkled his eyes in a way that made said panties slightly damp. Whew.

"Yes," he said, "let's do that. Tell me about Swan Fantasies. How did you come to set up such an intriguing enterprise?"

I deduced from this opening that Mr Cullen, fuck-hot millionaire (or more? I'd have to check with James, again) was a business man, through and through.

"Well, do you want the long story or the short one?" I asked.

"We have twelve hours." Gah! He cocked one of those enormous eyebrows at me! I know that doesn't sound hot, but you had to be there. An E A Cullen-cocked eyebrow should be registered as a dangerous weapon. I took another big gulp of my iced alcohol.

"Well, I really wanted to be an actress. I was reading English at Cambridge, and I used to audition for just about everything, but I happened to be in a cohort of amazingly talented actresses, so I never got much of a look in. It pains me to say it, but I don't think the brown hair, brown eyes look helped my case much, either."

"Oh?' he interrupted, "I think the 'look' as you put it, is rather refreshing – beautiful, in fact."

Oh yes, Mr Cullen, I thought, call me beautiful and I'm yours! Do with me what you will!

He probably got that look from women all the time.

"Er, thank you. Anyway, it didn't work for me then, but I was learning a lot from auditioning and understudying and all the bit parts, you know? So I began to think there might be other ways I could use my skills. Then I met Alice, who eventually became my best friend, and she was into erotica in a big way. It didn't take her long to get me interested in it too. We would spend all our free time reading erotica, writing it, watching erotic cinema – which is different from pornography, by the way – dressing up, going to clubs and parties, and having way too much fun."

I probably had that dreamy look on my face that I get when I think back to those early days with Alice, because Mr Dreamy himself was staring at me intently, and looked as though he liked what he saw. A thoughtful smile was turning up the corners of his delectable mouth.

"So you thought you could combine the two things and make a business out of them? That was a very brave move, Ms Swan."

"Not as much of a stretch as you might think, Mr Cullen. Remember, I was at Cambridge, and I'm quite friendly, so I had lots and lots of contacts with too much money on their hands. Not to mention the people I met at parties and clubs. I asked Alice to be my partner, but she said no, she'd rather just work for me for a while. She's still looking for her Mr Right, and she thinks she won't find him as the partner of an erotic company."

I was half way through my second cocktail by this time, and I leaned forward, and whispered conspiratorially, "Let's face it, Mr Cullen, we are just high class prostitutes. But you wouldn't believe how much extra money a little added excitement brings in."

He looked a trifle shocked. It is what it is, though, I would never lie. I can't. I'm terrible at it.

"So did you go in to this blind, or did you have financial backing?" he asked, hiding his shock behind his businessman's questions.

"I think if I told you that, you would be really shocked, Mr Cullen. And I don't think I've had quite enough to drink yet. Tell me something about you, though."

"What would you like to know?" He raised both eyebrows this time, in polite openness. It made him look younger, and delicious.

"I'd like to know who wrote that letter you read when you first sat down."

Damn, if that didn't wipe all the good humour off his face. But it was the burning question in my mind, and I really wanted to know. I tried turning his eyebrow-cocking trick back on him, but mine weren't nearly as impressive.

He glowered.

Then he sighed, and decided to answer me. "That was from Tanya. My ex-wife. We're still friends, we mutually agreed the marriage was a mistake. Were friends - she has set me up in the most excruciating way." He sighed, tilting his head so that his temple was propped up by one long, elegant, suckable finger. "I'm sorry that you were dragged into it, you seem like a really nice person. Tanya knows how hard I find it to meet women I can relate to, so she promised me an introduction to someone who would be, and I quote, 'utterly on my wavelength.''." He pointed his finger at me. "She told me I would meet you on the flight, but she didn't want me to know anything about you until it was too late, I guess. The letter explains the, er, relationship she, um, contracted."

Shit. What a bitch – she had basically just told him that his feminine equal was a prostitute. I mean, I knew what a class act I was as a woman for hire, but she didn't, and neither did he. So what did that make him, in her eyes? A gigolo? A pimp? I wasn't getting the vibes from him for either of those positions.

And I was certain the ex Mrs Cullen had never met me. She had no inkling about my level of sophistication.

"Naturally, I'll honour the agreement, whatever it was. The payment." He shifted about uncomfortably as he spoke, and looked down. The embarrassment didn't suit him.

He was going to switch off, just when things were getting interesting. Time to pull out the skills, Bella Swan skills,, I decided.

I leaned forward a tad, just enough for my blouse to fall open slightly and reveal a bit of cleavage and blue lace. I reached my hand to the opposite side of his face, and very gently stroked his cheek with my fingertips. At the same time, I whispered into his closest ear: "That was a shitty fucking thing to do to you, Mr Cullen, you seem like a good man who deserves respect." Then I dropped my hand, excused myself and stood, shuffling past him with my bottom a little closer to his head than it strictly needed to be.

I walked to the bathroom with a slight sway in my hips, knowing he'd be watching them; knowing he'd see the seams of my stockings for the first time, and a part of his mind would be trying to follow those seams up to the nirvana they promised.

Nicely done, Ms Swan, I thought.

When I came back from the bathroom, he was smiling again. This time he stood to let me pass, but he very lightly placed a hand on my hip to guide me. That hand felt good. It literally made me tingle.

I settled back into my seat and turned to smile at the sex god, wondering where to go from here. I so wanted some of that.

"So...," we both started at the same time. He gestured for me to go ahead, but I'd rather have heard what he had to say.

"No, no, Mr Cullen, after you."

He grinned.

"I was going to ask, Bella," he said, pronouncing my name purposefully and oh-so-sexily, "what you were planning to do once we get to Cape Town?"

"Well, Mr Cullen," - he hadn't actually told me his first name, and besides, I sensed he got off just a little on the power play of the 'Mr' and 'Sir' I was using - "you, in fact, have paid for me to stay for a week in a beautiful little hotel on the coast. I fly back a week from today. I'm so excited, I've never been to Africa before."

"You haven't? Well, I'm not sure how typical Cape Town is of Africa, but it is a beautiful place. You are right to be excited. I like that in a woman."

"What?" I grinned, "Excitement?"

"Yes." He smiled, enjoying the double entendre. "I like women who are willing to display what they are feeling openly and without all the bullshit."

"Oh! Well then, Mr Cullen, I'm pretty sure you are going to like me. My emotions are wide open, no bullshit." As I said 'wide open', I illustrated by stretching my arms and legs as wide as my skirt and blouse would allow, tautening the material of both across my hips and breasts. I think he noticed.

"It's Edward. And I like you already, Bella." He held out his hand to me and we shook again. This time, he enfolded my whole hand in his, gripped it firmly, and softly ran his thumb over my knuckles. Then he raised it to his lips and gently pressed them against my skin. Those tingles reappeared, shooting up and down my body, making me squirm in my seat. I stared into his green eyes for probably a whole minute, in absolute awe of the effect he had on me.

"Edward." I tried the name out on my lips. It felt good there.

"Mm hm?"

"I'm really, really excited now." The smile he gave me then – a sort of one sided, sexy smirk - nearly sent me into combustion.

"Are you? Good." He nodded, as if confirming something, or sealing a deal. He still had a hold of my hand. "Can I ask you a personal question, Bella?"

"Absolutely. Ask away. The more personal the better."

"Really? Okay, then." He leaned into me, breathing gently into my ear. The scent of his skin was divine, all masculine and expensive and hot. "What are you wearing under your skirt?"

Melt. Melt. Melt.

Just as I was about to answer, our scary hostess-with-the-mostess-make-up brought us our 'specially prepared' meals.

I was quite pleased, actually, because one, I was really hungry, two, I needed something to soak up some of the alcohol at this point, and three, I wanted time to compose an equally enticing answer to his very leading question.

I held up my hand to indicate, in the universally understood fashion, that I would answer in five.

The meal was actually really good. We had both ordered the seafood risotto, and it was creamy and delicious.

We both seemed to be deep in thought as we ate, or I was, at any rate. I was pondering how far I could get Edward to go while I still had unlimited access to him.

I had no idea what he was pondering, until he spoke.

"Bella?" he started, looking curiously at me as I licked my lips clean of cream and seafood.


"You do realise I would never actually have to pay for sex, don't you? I mean no offence. Only, I feel a little awkward, knowing that I have. Paid you, that is."

Well, this had given me something to think about! Of course there was no way this sexy, gorgeous, powerful, successful man would ever need to pay for sex of any kind, fantasy included or not. I mean, he must have had women throwing themselves at him on a regular basis. What on earth did I have to offer that he couldn't find elsewhere?

On the other hand, I really, really wanted to have sex with this man. Or anything else he would give me – I would have settled for a kiss, honestly I would.

Looking at him watching me, I knew that honesty was actually the only thing that might work for me.

"Edward, most of my clients fall into one of two categories. Category A includes the middle-aged men who've been married a good long while, and have always wanted to try something out, but never been given the opportunity. They rarely look anything like you." I waved my hand to encompass the whole package of Edward Cullen, from his sexy hair to his large and elegantly clad feet.

He smirked again, and nodded to acknowledge the truth of my words.

"Category B are young men, often inexperienced, sometimes virgins, who get given the time of their lives as a gift from someone, often to prove a point, I find."

"Oh? What do you mean by that?"

"You know, 'you're gay really, you just don't know it yet'; or 'you think you want to behave a certain way in the bedroom, but it isn't really you'; or even 'you think you are good at sex, but actually you suck and you need a few lessons'."

The eyebrows took on a life of their own as they almost raised themselves off of his forehead. I quickly carried on.

"You clearly don't fit into either category. And you are the most fuck-hot, divinely gorgeous and, if you don't mind my saying so, panty-soaking-scented man I've ever had the pleasure of sniffing, I mean encountering…..." Hah! He couldn't hide the pleasure that my ego stroking was giving him.

"Look, I know this isn't what you signed up for, and we will, in all likely hood, never cross paths again, but Edward, I want you. In fact, I have never, ever wanted a man I have just met in the way that I want you." There, it was out there. It didn't matter if he rejected me, much; at least I gave it my best shot. I sat back and waited for the verdict.

I don't know quite how I was expecting him to react, but I must have anticipated a small delay, at least, because I was very surprised when he nodded his head emphatically, murmured 'Okay, then,' and then motioned for Scary-Lady-Hostess to come forward to clear our trays of fine crockery and left-over food.

"No, no dessert for me. Bella?" He raised his eyebrows at me in question.

"No, thank you." I did want something sweet in my mouth – a little suck of Cullen tongue, for instance. No pudding could override that desire.

"So." He settled back and turned towards me. This was a man who liked to be in control. A lot. I could certainly go with that, I thought.

"Yes, sir?" I smiled innocently back.

"You were about to answer my question." His words came out sounding slightly gruff, with desire, I hoped. I leaned closer in to him.

"Oh yes, I was," I said softly, "Llet me see." I ran my fingers lightly up my thighs, from my knees, over my skirt to my pelvis. "My silk stockings run up to the top of my thighs, where they are held in place by a satin garter belt, which is peach in colour."


"Oh, nothing else. Everything is bare and ready for you, sir."

He closed his eyes, leaned back and smiled. I took the opportunity to glance down at his lap, and I could tell that my seduction was working, in a big way.

There is nothing more arousing than watching someone else become aroused by you. I was glad my skirt was lined, because I didn't really want to sport a damp patch in the middle of it.

I pushed my tray away and fiddled with the buttons that would make my chair recline. Unfolding the duvet provided in first class, I flipped it over my lap, and leaned back.

"The bathrooms in first class are quite big, aren't they, Edward? I was wondering about going to put on those ridiculous pyjamas they've given me. Or perhaps I could slip out of my blouse and skirt and just wear the robe. That might be more comfortable. What do you think?"

"Definitely the robe option, Bella. I'll come and watch, make sure you don't get all tangled up in your clothes. You go ahead, and I'll come and join you in five minutes." He ran a fingertip from the top of my head, down the side of my face, my neck, over my collar bone and onto my shoulder. I shivered with the sensation and the anticipation.

"And Bella? Don't remove one article of clothing until I get there, understand?"

Oh, boy, I understood all right. "Yes, sir. I will wait for you with great anticipation."

I picked up my purse and sashayed to the back of the cabin, asking the hostess for a robe.

The bathroom was unoccupied – most of the passengers were still eating their meal. Shutting and locking the door behind me, I took antiseptic wipes out and did a thorough bathroom wipe-over, because I was a Girl Guide in my youth and always came prepared.

I strategically placed a condom on the edge of the washbasin, and quickly freshened up in all the right places. I brushed my hair, touched up my light make-up, and stared idly into the mirror. Surely, I thought, five minutes doesn't take this long?

Finally, I heard voices outside of the door. I pressed my ear against it to listen. I heard his voice, and could just make out the words 'girlfriend' and 'probably fainted'. At last, there was a swift rap on the door.

"Bella? Are you okay darling? Do you need me?" What the hell? I pulled the door open, and a frustrated looking Edward was standing there trying to foist the overly clingy hostess away. I caught on quick.

"Oh, Edward, I'm just feeling a little faint. Could you come in and stay with me for a while, darling?"

He smiled appreciatively at me. "Yes, Sweetheart, of course. It's what I was trying to do when this -," he turned and scrutinized the name badge of the scary hostess, "- Heidi, is it?" She nodded helplessly as he eyed her breast. "Heidi, here, tried to send me away. I don't know what she was thinking." He looked at her really sternly, and while I felt a little sorry for Heidi, I couldn't help envying her too. That look made my clit twitch, and he wasn't even giving it to me.

Heidi tossed her hair back with as much dignity as she could muster, and turned on her heel. Edward pushed me backwards into the bathroom and locked the door, both of us laughing.

Suddenly, his hand whipped up to the back of my neck, and holding me in place, he pushed his luscious mouth against mine. Taken off guard, I couldn't help a small moan from escaping, or perhaps it sounded more like a little grunt. Either way, it seemed to spur him on, and he pushed my lips open with his tongue. I responded with enthusiasm. He tasted just as sweet and delicious as I had imagined. Actually, he tasted much better than I had imagined. The whole experience was like falling into heaven. I'd never known anything like it before.

My hands wove themselves into his thick hair, and my body pushed itself against him, trying to melt into his hard flesh. He felt warm and clean and toned, and I felt weak at the knees. When he let go and pulled away, my lips let out an 'Oh!' of surprise before my brain became anywhere near engaged again. He looked at me curiously, fuck-hot left eyebrow raised again. I just sucked at my bottom lip, tasting him there still, and stared right back.

He cleared his throat, but his voice was still a little rough when he spoke. "Now then, time to get you out of those clothes. Undo your blouse first, please Bella."

Still sucking on my lip, I nodded, not trusting my voice in the least. I began to unbutton my blouse slowly, finally letting it hang open over my breasts and belly. He raised a finger to my mouth and used it to pull my lip away from my teeth. He then ran his finger down my chin, my neck, between my breasts, over my stomach, tracing a circle around my navel, and resting it on the waist band of my skirt. "Take it off, Bella," he said, softly, but in command.

"Yes, sir." He smirked at that. I pulled the blouse away from my shoulders, pushing my breasts out as I did so, catching it before it fell to the floor. It was an expensive purchase; I wasn't going to ruin it. Edward took it from me and hung it on a hook by the door.

"Good girl. Now your bra."

I reached behind me and unclasped the peach lace, letting the straps fall forward over my shoulders and down my arms. He took it from my hands, his eyes never leaving my bare breasts as he tossed it onto the hook over the blouse.

Edward cocked his head to one side and licked his lower lip, a gesture that almost had me whimpering. "You are extraordinarily beautiful, Ms Swan. This sight right here is enough to make me very glad I overcame my stupid pride."

"Pride, Mr Cullen?"

"Yeah, pride. Or my asshole-ish tendencies, as my ex would put it."

"Let's leave your incredibly stupid ex-wife outside the door, shall we, Mr Cullen? I'm all yours in here, right now. Completely at your disposal. Anything – I mean anything – you'd like, it's yours. Right now."

His eyes widened with pleasure, and a sound that could only be described as a chesty growl escaped him. He reached out both hands to cup my breasts, weighing them in his palms before pinching my nipples between his fingers. I gasped with the intense pleasure, arching my back towards him.

"Take off your skirt then, Bella. I want to see all of you."

"Yes, sir, Mr Cullen," I whispered. The zip was at the back;, so I reached behind and undid the skirt, letting it slowly slide down my hips towards the ground. I stepped delicately out of it, still in my high-heeled sandals, and handed it to him to hang up. I knew the garter belt and stockings framed my sex nicely, as I had taken a very long time getting dressed for this particular fantasy, trying on all different kinds of lingerie. It seemed to be having the desired effect on Edward. He looked as though he was about to drool.

"Spin all the way around for me, Bella."

I twirled oh-so-slowly for him, feeling deliciously exposed and vulnerable.

"Wow," he breathed when I faced him again, "you really are the real thing, aren't you, Bella Swan? No cosmetic surgery, no implants, no tastefully concealed surgery scars?"

"No, sir, no surgery, no scars. What you see is what you get, all natural, and all for you this fine evening. Oh, I do have a birthmark, just right here at the top of my left thigh. You can see it when you get close enough."

To my delight, Edward immediately squatted down on his haunches in front of me to inspect my mark. I turned my leg out for him so he could see, and he stroked it with his fingers, very gently. I willed him to move those long, gentle fingers elsewhere, and he was soon distracted by my now almost dripping sex.

His light, teasing touch ran gently along my slit, probing just a little, stroking the soft skin there backwards and forwards. My breathing sped up exponentially. "You really do want me, Bella, don't you?" He sounded awed.

"Edward, I want you more than I have wanted anyone, ever. No fantasy, no acting, straight up honesty – you do something extraordinary to me, Mr Cullen, and right now, I consider myself the luckiest girl alive." He was looking up at me as I spoke, from his position near the floor, and he must have heard the sincerity in my voice, because his face changed, and a wave of emotion ran over his features. He almost looked relieved of some burden, free.

He turned his face and pressed his lips to the juncture of my sex, softly and reverently. He kissed again, and again, then grasping my hips gently, he pushed me to his face, running his tongue the length of me and back again. I did whimpered this time, and stumbled a little, as the weight of my desire almost buckled me. He pushed me back towards the low towel cabinet and indicated I should sit. Then he opened my legs as far apart as they would go in the small space, and licked and sucked at my flesh until I almost screamed my orgasm. It didn't take very long.

Edward smiled up at me, then stood, his face glistening with my juices. He wiped his hand over his chin, licking his palm with relish.

"Do you work out, Bella? Are you strong?" he asked, head cocked again as he considered my body.

"I do keep fit, Edward, it's kind of a prerequisite of the job." He frowned a tiny bit at the reminder of what I was, then shrugged it off. Brave man.

"Okay, let's see if you can take this. Stand up and turn around." I did, I would have done anything for him, probably would have killed the air hostess if he'd asked me to. I heard him undoing his pants and tearing the foil on the strategically placed condom.

"Spread your legs as wide as they will go and bend down over the cabinet. Hold on to that shelf tight, Bella. Don't let go." I did as he said, spreading each leg wide, and bending forward to grip the low shelf. It left me very exposed and very open. I tingled with anticipation. He took his time, probably taking a good look before he took me.

Finally, I felt his large hands softly caress my bottom and then ghost over my sex. One of his hands slipped beneath my hip and lifted me up off the ground. Suspended in his grasp, I felt his cock lightly pushing at my entrance. .. At last, he plunged inside me, and I cried out again. He felt perfect, filling me completely, and oh, so satisfyingly.

Both of his hands were holding my hips off the ground now, and he pushed in and out of me with a fabulous rhythm. I could see what he meant by needing my strength – I had to hang on hard to that cabinet, and every time we hit a bit of turbulence, we both strained to remain – well, not upright, as far as I was concerned, perhaps bent in position would be more apt. It was difficult, but good heavens, it was worth it.

Edward began to growl as he thrust harder, and in no time at all the combination of his cock and the sounds he made pushed me over into the most emphatic orgasm I could ever recall having. He must have felt me, because his thrusts became erratic, and just as a sudden lurch of the plane almost knocked us over, he cried out and stilled.

The 'return to seat' sign was blinkinging away at us, we just hadn't noticed. Edward put me down and withdrew gently, tossing the condom into the bin. I stood up and stretched, blissfully fulfilled. Edward reached for my robe, holding it open for me like a gentleman, smiling fondly at me as he wrapped and tied it around my body. He picked up my clothes as I grabbed my purse, and we left the small space, lurching to the sway of the plane. I slipped back to my seat, sliding under the duvet as Edward handed my clothes to the hostess to hang up for me.

He slid elegantly into his seat and leaned over to whisper into my ear. "You, Ms Bella Swan, are fucking fabulous. That is going to replace any other fantasy I've had before for some time to come. I can promise you that." He stroked the hair away from my beaming face, and planted a kiss on my forehead.

I watched him lean back and reach to pull out his iPad. He settled back, presumably to work, and as the furrows of his business life played around his brows, I drifted off into unconsciousness.

It felt like no time at all before I felt a large hand shaking my shoulder. "Bella! Bella, wake up." I opened my eyes, and his gorgeous face was inches from mine, his hot, brandy-spiced breath kissing my cheek.

"What? Oh, hi, Edward," I smiled, and he smiled right back.

"Sshh, Bella. You were dreaming. Out loud. And I think you were enjoying your dream sex more than the actual thing, because you were certainly noisier."

"What? Not possible! That was the best sex I ever had! I can't even remember the dream sex!"

"Really? The best ever?" He looked inordinately pleased at my sleep-befuddled declaration. I raised myself up on to my elbow, the better to whisper right into his ear.

"I kid you not, Edward A Cullen, that was the best orgasm I ever had in all my twenty six years. You are my sex god. You are so fucking hot, and I never even got a look at you! I really, really, really want to do that again. Whenever you want me, I'm yours, I swear. Any time, any place, any way how. Yours." I pushed his nose with my finger to emphasise my point. He grinned, a huge happy smile from ear to ear. "Don't let it go to your head, though, oh lord of my desire."

"I wouldn't dream of it. Wanna hang out with me in Cape Town, little sex minion?"

"Oh, yes please!" I settled back down to ponder the enticing promise of a week with Edward. I couldn't get back to sleep.

"Edward?" I poked him with my finger. He turned to smile at me.


"What does the 'A' stand for in E A Cullen?"

"Anthony. What about you? Any middle names?"

"Ugh. Marie. Isabella Marie Swan, at your service. Only ever known by that name by my father when he's in a mood. Which is a lot."

"Noted." He settled back to his work. I tried to doze off again, but the plane was really lurching around in the sky.


"Mm hm?"

"What were you expecting from this trip, if it wasn't me?" I regretted this question, as soon as it was out of my mouth. Edward looked pained. He turned to look at me, obviously pondering whether to answer or not. Finally, he did.

"A connection. Someone I could relax with. Someone to make me forget all the responsibility for a while"

Oh, crap. I felt so bad for him. What a freaking bitch his ex-wife must have been.

I sat up and reached out to him. He took my hand and kissed it. "I'm so sorry, Edward. Even though I'm pleased for myself that she did, I can't believe anyone would do something so underhand and deceitful, yet alone to someone as amazing as you."

"Well, thank you, Bella. But you don't know me very well. Perhaps I deserved it."

I kept my hand in his. He looked so sad, and so gentle.

"You think you deserved to be set up on a date with a prostitute?"

He turned his head sharply, looking directly at me. The sadness dissolved, and the corners of his mouth turned up into a sexy smile.

"Actually, Bella, I don't think I've ever enjoyed any kind of 'connection' as much as I've enjoyed 'connecting' with you. You are quite extraordinary. Perhaps you are just what I do deserve." His eyebrows danced their sexy rumba at me, and I grinned from ear to ear.

"Yeah, Mr Cullen. I think you are right. I am exactly what you deserve."