• Give the song a chance. It gets better •

"Fuck this," I said irritatedly and pulled my fingers out of my panties.

Nothing. Not even a little buzz. I wasn't getting excited, I couldn't get myself off. All I could think about was what I told Vince yesterday, how I had practically called him a rapist and blamed him for all my troubles. I knew that was a lie. Both of them. He never did anything to me I didn't secretly want. He knew that as well as I did.

But now, as I laid in the bed at 5.30 am in the morning, thinking about everything, I was ashamed of the things I'd said. I owed him an apology, but my damn pride couldn't get the words out. No, instead I was trying to masturbate because over the last few days we had been living together, Vince had been a fucking tease and riled me up sexually. And then yesterday, before we got interrupted by Caleb, I had been so ready. So horny.

But today... today I couldn't even get myself off. Thinking of Vince while I masturbated might've worked, but I felt wrong by doing so. I didn't deserve to think of him like that, not after practically calling him... well. So yeah, I would have to wait until we'd gotten to Italy. Maybe the sun and the wine would do something to my libido.

I showered and got ready, dressed in my usual tight pants and camisole. From the other side of the bedroom door, I could hear Vince making ready as well, packing up his things. I sighed to myself one final time before I opened the door and walked out, finding him checking the wounds he had received during his escape from the CIA. It had been a few days, almost five, so some of the swelling had gone down. He still looked like a piñata, though.

"Are you set to go?" I asked, trying to keep my voice as neutral as possible. Vince barely looked at me before he turned his eyes away again. Yeah, he was still mad at me.

We then took our things and headed out, having both received a message on our burner phone saying that a car was coming for us. As we stepped out onto the curb, a black Mercedes rolled up, one with toned windows. A driver opened the door for us and we silently stepped in, both on guard, just in case. Like me, Vince had a hand on his gun as we got seated and clicked into our seatbelts. Then began the longest three hour drive.

We didn't speak a word to each other the whole time. I wanted to say something, but I just couldn't. I kept silently opening and closing my mouth, but one glance at Vince and my throat dried up. I just had to have that meltdown...

After what seemed like forever of driving, we finally made it to a very remote landing strip. A single jet was standing by, the engine ready and running. Caleb was waiting by the foot of the stairs, waving at us as we pulled up. We both stepped out and greeted him, then got on board.

"Oh, and don't worry, Rya, I've made sure that Bob is being taken care off," Caleb assured me as we boarded. "I've got a friend who's going to feet him and keep his bowl as shiny as his scales."

"Thank you so much, Caleb. I really appreciate it."

"No problem," He grinned. "Oh man, I can't wait. I've never been to Italy. I really wish my girl could've come, too, but she agreed it would look too suspicious if she suddenly upped and went on vacation while her future baby daddy is missing. Are you guys ready for travel?"

Me and Vince shared a brief look, but then both silently nodded. I couldn't help but notice that muscle in his jaw that kept working. He hadn't shaved this morning, so his dark five O'clock shadow accentuated every single contour of his neck and jawline. I hated it. It made him look ten times hotter than he already was.

We all got seated in the luxurious plane, which, to our discovery, looked like something Tony Stark would proudly own. I was just waiting for the strip pole to appear and the naughty stewardesses to step out to give the two men a good show, while I could sit in a corner with my useless, non-responsive pussy and watch how they got their buzz on.

Wow, okay, I thought, actually surprised by my own imagination. That escalated quickly.

I was horny as fuck.

And, now I could look forward to an almost ten hour long flight with nothing but boredom to entertain myself with. After Caleb childishly asked to see the cockpit, he had plugged his laptop in and put on a big set of headphones which I now heard playing Metallica on the loudest volume. At least someone was having the time of their life.

I sighed as the stewardess then explained the safety procedure while the pilot made ready for takeoff. Vince had leaned back and closed his eyes, and I was tempted to do the same.

This was going to be a fucking long flight.

~~~

Just three hours in and I couldn't sit still anymore. Sitting across from Vince who appeared to be sleeping, I was practically eye-fucking him.

Those dark lashes... behind them lied two dark-brown eyes that turned onyx when he got aroused. Those lips... so rough yet so soft. The feel of them as they kissed me down my chest and latched on to my nipples and fed... and those shoulders, God. The ones I clung onto with my life as he rocked into me and pulled ōrgasm after ōrgasm from my body until I passed out.

You horny goddamn bastard, I argued with myself and sighed as I watched his even breaths go in and out of his slightly parted lips. Why don't you just jump him? I'm sure Caleb wouldn't mind. Hell, he might not even notice. He's practically sucked into his computer. You could probably give Vince a blow right here and the kid wouldn't even notice...

Stop! I screamed in my head and shook it. My panties were soaked and this wasn't working for me. I still had seven hours of flying left. God help me.

Alright, I thought as I clicked myself free from my seatbelt and stood up, heading for the lavatory. Time for round two.

I had nothing better to do that twiddle my thumbs, so why not twiddle something else instead? I would technically still be using my fingers if you thought about it.

Stepping into the bathroom, I locked the thin door and looked around in the slightly-bigger-than-usual bathroom. It still had the claustrophobic feel to it, but you actually move around here. And that's what I needed. Space. For me. Alone time.

Fifteen minutes later, I was practically whimpering in frustration. It wasn't working again. I pumped my fingers in and out of myself, trying to lean back on the toiletseat and imagine... imagine that it wasn't my own fingers, but somebody else's. A certain some else's.

But nothing. Apparently it was an either-or with me; Either the real thing or nothing at all. That's what fucking Vince had done to me.

"Damn it!" I cursed, on the brink of throwing a punch through the plastic wall. "Fucking, Italian motherfu—"

"Rya." Three hard taps on the door made me jerk and pull my thong up. "Open the door."

Uh. So that was a no. "Fuck off, Vince."

"Do you know how easy it is to pick an aircraft toilet lock?"

"No, why don't you enlighten me?" I sarcastically retorted, picking my pants up from the floor.

I heard the lock click a second later and then the door opened. "That easy."

Fuck.

The next moment Vince stepped through the door and made me have to take several steps back until his large frame fit and made the already small bathroom seem even smaller. The door closed again and the lock turned.

And I had dropped my pants. Fuck again. "What the hell are you doing, Vince?"

"What are you?" He snarled, glaring down at my nearly-bottomless bottom. "Trying to masturbate again like you were this morning?"

"I—"

He moved so quickly, I didn't even get a chance to register that he actually did. He had me pinned against the sink in a flash, one leg pushed between mine, chest pressed against my breasts. My breath shot out as his hand locked around my throat, but not in a hard way, more in a dominant way that told me not to even fucking dare defy him right now.

"You're so fucking desperate, aren't you?" He hissed into my face, his eyes like thunderbolts. "You are sopping wet, but you're too damn proud to admit it."

"I'm not proud," I barked back, pathetically lying. But I couldn't focus, not with his thundering eyes and his body pressed up against mine like that. His thumb was stroking my jawline, jerking my head up to meet his.

"The hell you are," He said, stepping closer. "You are so wet, your pussy is soaking my pants through your thong, but you're too proud to admit you want me to fuck you docile."

"You piece of shit," I snapped, anger flashing through me along with lust at the pure way the words rolled off his tongue that easily. But I had more dignity than that. And yes, pride. "To hell with you, I don't fucking need you to pity-fuck me, I managed all by myself for years before you came along. I can get off by myself." Liar-lair, soaking panties on fire.

"The hell, you, can," he repeated, enunciating each syllable slowly. "Admit it. Let go of that damn pride and admit that the only way that you can get off is the way I fuck you." When I didn't respond, but just pressed my lips together, he leaned in and pressed his mouth to my ear. "Remember how it is I take you? Hm? Fast.... hard... deep. So deep I hit your cervix. So deep I dent that fucking pride of yours."

"Oh fuck you, Vince."

"And fuck you too, Rya." And with that, he grabbed my arms and pushed me backwards, ramming me into the sink again so I involuntarily let out a hiss of pain. But I was almost glad he did, simply because I couldn't stand listening to myself anymore. I needed an outlet, and if beating the crap out of each other at 10.000 meters in the sky could give me that, then that's what I would take.

But instead of fighting me, Vince mashed his lips roughly against mine in the manner of which I had fantasied about earlier. The pure act of that fantasy coming true had me letting out a docile moan as he molded himself against me.

Gripping onto his strong shoulders, I begun tugging back at his suit jacket, yanking at his tie, wanting to feel his chest. In the meantime my lower half was shamelessly rubbing itself against his leg, craving that friction I had needed since he last fucked me.

But to my displeasure, Vince harshly pulled back and grasped my hands so I couldn't touch him. "No."

Letting out a sound of frustration, I met his chilly eyes. "What?!"

His jaw squared and I saw a note of ice flash through his eyes. "I want you to beg me for it, Rya. You called me a rapist and its not a nickname I'm particularly fond of being called. Unless you beg me, I'm not fucking you."

Guilt, along with another note of frustration and maybe just a wee punch at my pride, struck through me and caused a havoc of emotions inside me to collide. I didn't know which one to act on. Guilt finally took the medal. "Vince. I didn't mean what I said. I just lost my temper, and—"

"Don't care. Beg."

"Vince—"

"Beg."

I squeezed my lips together. My pride was tying my tongue and I refused to beg for it. I had begged before, and I remembered how it turned out for me. Vince was quite within his rights to bring me to the edge and then leave me hanging there again, I wouldn't blame him for it. Sure, I'd hate him for it, but I wouldn't blame him. I couldn't. Calling him a rapist for giving me the best sex of my life was like cursing at Oreos for making you fat, even though you were the one who ate them. They didn't force themselves down your throat. You opened yourself up.

– Just like I did with Vince. Very literally.

"Please," I got out through gritted teeth. The simple word tasted sour on my tongue. I was begging him for sex. I couldn't believe it. 'Sorry' didn't do it for him, but if begging did...

He squeezed my wrists tighter. "Not good enough."

"For fuck's sake! Vince!"

"That's not begging, dolcezza."

"No? Well then how about this; Either you fuck me right this goddamn second, or I'm going to make Italian wine out of those grapes between your legs that you call testicles."

His lips twitched into a smirk, the cheeky, cocky one I remembered and hated. Missed. "There's the Rya I know."

"Oh, go to—Jesus!" I nearly screamed when he pounded me up against the sink again, setting me on the edge. His hands pushed my thong aside and found my sopping wet pussy. "Oh God, Vince!"

He pushed two long fingers inside me and had almost crossing my eyes from the instant pain and the pleasure all at once. I moaned at the tightening sensation, that sweet, blissful feeling of pleasure ripping through my body. Pleasure I didn't deserve.

I gripped on to his shoulders as he pumped his fingers in and out of my weeping pussy, all the while his lips found my throat and started leaving hot trails up and down my jugular. My fingernails dug into his shirt, and he pumped faster; teased my pussy and stretched it until I was shaking and barely standing. I was on the edge of exploding when he then pulled his fingers out and left me on the edge again. Precisely as I had predicted.

"Goddamn it, Vince!"

But not seconds later, he had unbuckled his pants and gripped his rigid cock, aligning it with my throbbing entrance. I didn't get a chance to prepare myself before he slammed into me in one thrust and drew a scream from my lips. He filled me up completely and hit me so deep—as he had reminded me—that he bruised my cervix.

"Oh, fuck!" My legs were numb, but still they couldn't stop shaking.

"Hang on to me," Vince told me as he grabbed the back of my knees and then pushed them up to my chest, throwing my calves over his shoulders. Next moment, he was gripping my ass again, just as I curled my hands behind his neck in collision with his second thrust.

"Ah, Vince!" I cried as he plowed inside me again, my pussy taking him to the hilt. I clenched around him with my inner walls as mindblowing pleasure roared through me. "Oooh, Vince, God..."

He was rough. It was my style. He took me with brutal force and I had called him a rapist for that, when really, I enjoyed when he fucked me so hard, it felt like my pussy got split in half. I was an agent, if I wanted things easy and painless, I would've become a librarian. But this... this is how I wanted my life; Fast, exciting, hard-going and wild.

"Ah!" I cried and threw my head back when Vince rammed inside me, releasing a groan. His fingers were digging into my ass which he pushed to meet his violent thrusts, each time so that he empaled me and made me see double from the pleasure. "Oh, fuck me, Vince...!"

"Look at this," He suddenly said and dropped the tempo until it came to a complete halt. I had been on the border of another ōrgasm, so with swimming eyes, I followed where he was looking. That place turned out to be where the shining head of his dick was pressed just against my dripping wet pussylips. A low moan ripped from me as he then slowly pushed his head inside me, both of us watching as my pussy expanded to accommodate his girth and then swallowed him inch by inch as he pushed deeper.

"See that?" He said and squeezed my ass even more. "Is that what you call rape?"

"No..." I moaned, shaking as he slowly drew out again, nudged my clit with his crown. He pushed back inside. "No, it's good... fuck, it's so good..."

"Say it louder," He growled in my ear. "Say it so I can hear it. Say it so the pilot can hear it."

"Fuck, it's good!" I cried as he shoved himself brutally into me again, now bringing back the force and the heat. "Fuck, it's good, it's good! Aaaah, Vince!"

He repeatedly slammed inside me, going balls deep so he entered my womb. Clamping down around him with my inner muscles, I felt myself begin to convulse with the ōrgasm that was combusting deep within me.

"Scream, Rya," He huskily whispered in my ear, and that did it for me.

I screamed and threw my head back, squeezing my eyelids shut as my ōrgasm roared through me like a starved lioness going for the slay. My nails clawed down his back and nearly ripping through his shirt as he pounded into me, fucking me through my ōrgasm until I had no more left to give. My juices coated his thick length, and he leisurely sank into me, drew back, then rammed into me again. I was completely liquified in his arms, slipping off the sink if it hadn't been for him holding me there.

Then to my surprise, I heard a low chuckle. Peeling apart my wet eyelids from crying in pleasure, I managed to see Vince's smirk just before he leaned into my ear and huskily whispered; "Welcome to the mile-high club, dolcezza."

~~~

For a supposed genius, Caleb was very unobservant. Throughout the whole flight he either slept or was so consumed by his laptop and loud music, he didn't even notice me and Vince slip in and out of the bathroom two more times. Each time got more fervid and wild. I had finally given up my stubbornness and Vince took the fullest advance of it. And I allowed him. No one else but him would I let my guard down for.

So when we arrived at some sort of dessert landing strip in Italy, both of us were exhausted from the long flight and... other things. The pilot wished us a nice stay in a charming Australian accent as we unboarded, before we headed down the flight stairs and onto the ground.

"So where to?" I asked as we stepped out into the warm night air of Italy, trying to stifle a yawn as two cars pulled up to us. "Safe house?"

"You are," Vince replied, taking my luggage from my hands and shoving it inside the first car before I had the chance. "Me and Caleb will go to the AISE headquarters and brief them. Then we'll come back and you can de-brief me."

I was too tired to even roll my eyes at his lame pun. "Whatever. Just as long as this safe house has a nice big bed and a shower, I'm good."

"Promise you it has," Vince chuckled while I got into the car. When he didn't get in but instead closed the door, I rolled down the window.

"Wait, we're not catching a lift together?" I asked, poking my head out as he went to the driver's window.

He chuckled again and shook his head no. He then turned to the driver and spoke a few words in Italian that I didn't understand. "Portala a casa mia, Marcello."

• • •

Come on Italian-speaking fans. Help out your brothers and sisters and tell them what he said.