Chapter 3: The Midnight Jet to Paris
The black dress lay across her lap like a dead thing.
Arya stared at it—the lace so fine it felt like spider silk, the cut so low it would expose the hollow of her throat, the swell of her collarbones, the tops of her breasts if she breathed too deep. He had chosen it. Of course he had. Every garment that touched her skin now came from his hands, his taste, his endless appetite for control.
The jet hummed beneath her, a steady vibration that traveled up through the soles of her feet and settled somewhere in her spine. Outside the window, the Atlantic stretched in every direction, gray and endless, the clouds below them like a second ocean. She had never been on a private plane before. She had never been anywhere except the small, cramped world of their apartment and the courthouse and the life she had built with Rohan.
Now she was flying to Paris in a jet that cost more than her entire future, wearing a dress that made her feel like a whore.
"You're stalling."
Devraj's voice came from the seat across from her, low and unhurried. He was reading something on a tablet, his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, looking for all the world like a man who hadn't just uprooted her entire existence for the second time in a week.
"I'm thinking," she said.
"About what?"
"About how much I hate you."
He didn't look up. "That's not new information. Change."
The cabin was small but immaculate—cream leather seats, a table bolted to the floor, a small galley where a stewardess had disappeared after bringing them coffee. There was a bathroom at the back, a narrow door that promised privacy she knew wouldn't last.
Arya stood up. The dress dangled from her fingers, black lace catching the light.
"Here?" she asked.
"Here."
"I'm not going to strip in front of you."
"You're not going to strip in front of me," he repeated, finally looking up. His eyes traveled over her—the jeans, the sweater, the hair she had pulled back into a knot. "You're going to change into that dress. Whether you do it here or in the bathroom is up to you. But you're running out of time."
She wanted to throw the dress in his face. She wanted to tell him to go to hell, to take his jet and his money and his endless, suffocating control and choke on it.
Instead, she walked to the bathroom and closed the door.
The space was barely big enough to turn around. A mirror, a sink, a toilet that looked like it belonged in a spaceship. She hung the dress on a hook and peeled off her clothes, her movements sharp and angry. The sweater came off first, then the jeans, then her underwear, until she was standing in nothing but her skin, staring at her reflection.
She looked tired. She looked thin. She looked like a woman who hadn't slept properly in weeks.
The dress slid over her head like water.
It was worse than she had imagined. The lace clung to every curve, every hollow, every place she had tried to hide. The neckline plunged nearly to her navel, held together by a single thin strap that ran across her throat. The back was nonexistent—just a sweep of fabric that left her spine exposed. The skirt hugged her hips and ended mid-thigh, so short that a single wrong move would show everything.
She looked like she belonged on the cover of a magazine. She looked like she belonged to him.
When she opened the door, Devraj was waiting.
He had moved to the center of the cabin, a glass of champagne in his hand, his tablet abandoned on the seat. He was wearing a dark suit, no tie, his collar open at the throat. The silver in his hair caught the light from the windows, and his eyes—those dark, knowing eyes—found her immediately.
He didn't say anything at first. He just looked.
The weight of his gaze was physical. It pressed against her skin, traced the lines of her body, lingered on the places where the dress left her bare. She felt her face flush, her hands curl into fists at her sides.
"Come here," he said.
She didn't move.
"Arya."
"I'm not a dog."
"No. You're something much more interesting." He held out his hand, the one not holding the champagne. "Come. Here."
The words were soft. Gentle, even. But beneath them was steel.
She thought about refusing. She thought about turning around, locking herself in the bathroom, making him break down the door. She thought about the look on his face when she turned away in the pool—the hunger, the patience, the promise of retribution.
She walked toward him.
He took her hand when she was close enough, his fingers wrapping around hers with a grip that was firm but not painful. He guided her around the table, past the seats, until they were standing in the narrow space between the galley and the back of the cabin.
Then he sat down and pulled her onto his lap.
Arya made a sound—something between a gasp and a snarl—but his arm was already around her waist, his hand settling on her hip with the casual possession of a man who had done this a thousand times. Her back was pressed against his chest, her legs draped over his thigh, the lace of the dress riding up until she could feel the heat of his palm through the thin fabric.
"Comfortable?" he asked.
"No."
"You will be."
He reached for something on the table—a small glass bowl she hadn't noticed before. It was filled with strawberries, dark red and glistening, each one the size of her thumb.
He picked one up and lifted it to her lips.
"Open," he said.
"I don't want it."
"I didn't ask if you wanted it."
His voice was patient. The strawberry hovered an inch from her mouth, its sweet scent mixing with the smell of his cologne, the leather of the seats, the champagne on his breath. She pressed her lips together.
Devraj sighed. Not with frustration—with something closer to amusement.
"You're going to make this difficult," he said. "You always do. But I have time, Arya. I have all the time in the world."
He brought the strawberry to his own mouth instead, biting into it slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. The juice stained his lips red. He chewed, swallowed, and then his hand was on her jaw, turning her face toward him.
"If you won't eat," he said, "then we'll do something else."
He kissed her before she could answer.
It wasn't like the kiss in the dining room, hard and claiming. It was slower this time. Deeper. His tongue slid against hers as if he had all the time in the world, as if the plane and the sky and the entire fucking city of Paris could wait while he tasted her. His hand moved from her jaw to her throat, fingers splaying across the column of her neck, thumb pressing against her pulse point.
She could feel the steady thrum of her heartbeat beneath his touch. She could feel the heat of his body through the thin fabric of his shirt.
She could feel herself responding—her lips parting, her breath quickening, her hips shifting against his thigh.
He noticed. Of course he noticed.
His other hand slid from her hip to her thigh, fingers tracing the edge of the dress, dipping beneath the lace to find the bare skin underneath. She was suddenly, acutely aware of how little she was wearing. How easy it would be for him to slide his hand higher. How easy it would be for him to do whatever he wanted.
She pushed at his chest.
It was a weak gesture, and they both knew it. Her palms flattened against the hard muscle of his pecs, pressing but not shoving, and he didn't move. He didn't even pause.
His hand slid higher. The tips of his fingers brushed the crease of her hip, the edge of her underwear, the damp heat that had gathered there without her permission.
"No," she said, her voice breaking.
"No?" He nipped at her lower lip, a sharp little bite that made her gasp. "That's not what your body is telling me."
"My body doesn't speak for me."
"It speaks louder than you do." His thumb pressed against her clit through the lace of her panties—just one stroke, one deliberate movement—and her hips jerked involuntarily. "See? It tells me everything. It tells me how wet you are. It tells me how much you want this. It tells me that you've been thinking about last night, about what almost happened, about what I almost did."
She hated that he was right. She hated that her body had become a traitor, a thing that responded to him against her will, against everything she believed and everything she was.
"I hate you," she whispered.
"I know."
He kissed her again, swallowing the rest of her words, his tongue sliding against hers as his hand continued to move between her legs. He wasn't inside her—not yet—but his fingers worked the thin fabric of her underwear, rubbing, circling, building a heat that spread through her belly and down her thighs.
She tried to close her legs. His thigh blocked her, thick and unyielding, and his arm tightened around her waist.
"Don't fight it," he murmured against her mouth. "You're only making it worse."
"I don't—I can't—"
"You can." His voice was a low rumble against her throat. "You will."
His fingers hooked under the edge of her underwear and pulled them aside. She felt a moment of exposure, a flare of panic, and then his thumb was on her clit and two fingers were sliding inside her, stretching her with a shocking, wet sound that she felt in her chest.
Arya cried out. She couldn't help it. The pleasure was immediate and overwhelming, a hot flood of sensation that rolled through her like a wave. Her back arched against him. Her hands gripped his shoulders for balance.
His fingers curled inside her, finding the spot that made her vision white out. His thumb pressed hard against her clit, circling with a pressure that was just this side of brutal. His other arm held her firmly against his chest, his breath hot against her ear.
"You're so fucking tight," he said. "Is this what he feels like? Or have you forgotten?"
She didn't answer. She couldn't. The pleasure was building too fast, too intense, and she was suddenly terrified of what was happening—of losing control, of coming undone in his arms, of giving him the one thing she had sworn she never would.
"Stop," she gasped. "Please—"
"Please what?"
"Please—"
He didn't stop. He worked her harder, his fingers sliding in and out with a rhythm that was almost punishing, his thumb relentless against her clit. The pressure was unbearable, the heat spreading, the world narrowing to the space between her legs and the feel of his hand inside her.
"Come for me," he said. "I want to feel it. I want to know what you look like when you break."
"I won't—"
"You will."
And she did.
The orgasm crashed over her like a wave, sudden and violent, pulling her under. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't think. She could only feel—the swell of the pleasure, the clench of her muscles around his fingers, the wetness that spilled out of her and coated his hand. A sob tore from her throat and she didn't know if it was pleasure or shame or something in between.
He held her through it. With one hand still inside her, with the other cradling her against his chest. When the last tremor finally subsided, he pulled his fingers out slowly, and even that made her shudder.
He lifted his hand to his mouth and tasted his fingers, sucking them clean.
"You taste like honey," he said. "I could eat you alive."
Arya couldn't look at him. Her cheeks were wet—when had she started crying?—and her body felt like a foreign thing, boneless and trembling. She pressed her forehead against his shoulder—not because she wanted to, but because she didn't have the strength to hold herself upright.
He let her rest there for a moment.
"Did he ever make you come?" he asked quietly. "Your husband. Did he ever make you feel like that?"
She didn't answer.
Devraj smoothed a hand over her hair, a gesture that was almost tender. "I didn't think so."
He shifted beneath her, lifting her easily, and set her down on the seat beside him. She slumped against the leather, her legs pulled up beneath her, the dress twisted around her hips. She felt hollowed out. Empty. Used.
He stood up and straightened his tie.
"Paris will change things," he said. "You'll see."
She heard him walk away. She heard the click of the cabin door, the low murmur of a voice as he spoke to the stewardess. She heard the jet engines hum and felt the plane begin its descent.
But she didn't move. She couldn't.
Her body was still tingling, still slick with what he had done. And somewhere beneath the shame, beneath the rage, there was something worse.
Something that whispered that if he had wanted to take more, she would have let him.
And that terrified her most of all.