Paper Hearts

08 | chicken

[ dedicated to brookieismyname because she's such a wonderful trailer maker and she's been such a great friend and mentor to me these past few weeks i've had the opportunity to get to know her. she's an absolute sweetheart and i adore with her all my heart <3 ]

PAPER HEARTS | 08

warning: contains some mature content

Isla was a firm believer in her first love being her last and only love, which was why she had been so intent on Micah accompanying her to her baby sister's marriage in London. While Micah hadn't been fond of the idea of leaving his succulent alone in Ellie's hands, he also hadn't been willing to pass up some quality time with Isla. Undoubtedly, the relationships he had with both girls had their benefits. While with Isla it was a constant sweet, slow, and sultry, with Ellie it was a fair balance between fire and ash. One relationship was a fairy tale; the other was an adventure.

Following four cups of coffee at the Boston airport, both Micah and Isla were wide awake - and very, very aroused, for whatever reason. It was an hour into the flight when the windows were shut and the lights were switched off dimmed. Another hour passed before the elderly woman besides Isla dozed off. Only after he was sure everyone in their section of the flight was asleep did Micah slip his hand under Isla's blanket and into the waistband of her sweats. She neither looked at him when he gazed at her nor did she flinch when his ice-cold hand dipped into her core. Micah wasn't happy with her response.

He leaned in close enough for the scruff on his cheeks to brush against hers. Isla blinked. When he pulled out one earplug with his tongue, catching it between his teeth, she smacked his free hand tiptoeing towards her breasts.

"I thought you said you wanted me," he murmured in her ear.

"That was before I started watching a movie," she hissed.

"Bullshit."

When the pad of his thumb began to massage her and a second finger begin to writhe on the inside, Isla managed to tear her gaze away from the miniature screen. Her breath came out in ragged puffs as she pressed her forehead painfully close to Micah's. "Say something to me," she moaned, albeit softly.

The armrest pushed up, Micah scooted closer until she was practically in his lap. When her eyes fluttered shut, he licked up the column of her neck before pausing at her lips. "You wanna know what I'm going to do to you once we get to the hotel room?"

A pause.

"We aren't going to make it to the bedroom. I'm going to take you in the kitchen, or the couch - whichever is the closest. Maybe even the floor if I have to. Once I've got you splayed out for me, those sweats are going. Your panties too. My hands running from your ankles to your knees, I'm going to have you begging before I push your legs wide open for me. I want to see you touching yourself as I kiss your inner thigh and then the junction of your hips before I taste you. And Isla? You're gonna be the only thing I eat all night.

"I want you to feel my tongue against you, inside you. When I capture you between my lips, maybe even my teeth, I'm gonna have you screaming my name loud enough for arriving guests to hear you. Maybe your sister will even hear us, yeah? When my fingers dig into your hips, I want you to groan; when I pull your hips closer to me, you're gonna start bucking. Don't rush me, Isla - I'm not done dining until I say I'm done."

Sometime in the middle of his tale, Micah's voice had turned ragged and his breath had become labored. It was only when he paused his narrative that he comprehended that Isla's hand was, indeed, down his pants. He couldn't remember when her hand slipped in or when she'd started pumping him, but he was coming close. Her fingertips were already slick as they continued to run up the length of him.