Brett kisses like I’ve always imagined he would. His tongue is hot in my mouth as our lips press together. He's rough, needy. Like he wants this as much as I do. Both of his hands cradle my face; his fingertips at the base of my neck.

His thumbs are on my cheeks.

His mouth on mine.

This kiss could be enough. I mean, I feel like I could get off on this for the next ten years, that's how hot it is. My nipples are tight; my pussy is wet. This is enough for a virgin like me.

But when he pulls back, both of us needing to breathe, I know this is not enough for him. I feel his hardness against my stomach. Hardness a man like him isn't used to letting just sit there without being taken care of.

"Ella, I'm sorry, that was too much." Brett steps back and runs his hands through his hair. He unbuttons his shirtsleeves and rolls them up to his elbows, revealing strong forearms, reminding me how much of a man he is.

"No, it wasn't too much," I tell him. "I just never knew...."

His eyes narrow as he considers my words. "Ella, you had to know. Damn, I've been thinking about you and that bikini for three long months. The way your ass rubbed up against me. You can't stand here and tell me you haven't thought of that moment."

I love hearing that he's been thinking of me. I need him to know he has been in my thoughts also.

"Can I tell you something, Brett, without you judging me? I mean, I want to tell you but I don't want you to think differently of me."

But even as I say it I know it is a lie. I want Brett to think of me very differently. Not as a little girl. Not as his daughter's best friend.

I want him to see me as a woman, a lover.

His.

He adjusts himself, shaking his head as a soft smile crosses his face. "Ella, there's no way in hell I'd start judging you. I can guarantee the thoughts running through my mind have been a hell of a lot dirtier."

"I don't know, Brett. I've been...." I stop, laughing softly, feeling my face flush. Shocked that I'm even considering admitting how many times I touch myself at the sight of his face.

Brett steps towards me, his hands wrapping around my waist. His confidence makes my pussy drip.

"Ella, you're blushing."

I nod, biting my bottom lip. I know I can't look in his eyes and say this, but I still want him to know. If I have any hope of something, anything -- of this fantasy of mine becoming reality -- I should put it out there. Say what I'm really thinking. Feeling.

Because everything about this moment is a dream come true. We're alone. There's a storm outside. We are stuck here in his jet, by ourselves, for hours.

There is never going to be a safer or more perfectly orchestrated moment.

"Ever since that day in the ocean," I begin. "With my ass against your cock, I've been thinking of you."

"Just thinking?" Brett asks gruffly.

"Not just thinking. I keep pulling up that picture of you without a shirt on, in those swim trunks, and I keep remembering the way I saw the outline of your cock. It was so hard. Like it is now. I keep thinking of it," I sigh, feeling myself becoming so warmed up just by saying these words out loud. I’m so hot and horny for Brett. My skin tingles, my throat tightens.

"If you weren't just thinking, what were you doing?" Brett asks again. I look up at him, loving the way his eyes are on me. It makes me feel beautiful, seen.

"I've been touching myself when I remember."

“Ella," Brett says. "Where have you been touching yourself?"

I like this game he is playing. Drawing out every sentence, and I realize he is getting as hot as I am. He takes my hand from my waist and presses it to his pants, wanting me to feel how hard he is has gotten.

My fingers tremble, and I feel myself shake, because no matter how many times I've imagined this moment, I never actually thought it would happen.

"I've been touching my pussy. Pressing my fingers inside myself. It doesn't take very much for me to get off." I close my eyes thinking of the memory of my legs spread apart, my thumb rolling over my clit in tight circles.

"Do you think of me when you fuck other men?"

I pull back in surprise, shaking my head. "I told you, there are no other men. Just you."

Brett's jaw tenses and he runs a hand over the base of his neck as if trying to steady himself.

"You are telling me you're a virgin?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying. I've been saving myself. All of myself. For you." When I see the smile spread over his face I'm emboldened to say more. "All the girls in my dorm talk about vibrators, the battery-operated rabbits they use, and the bigger ones too. Some girls like dildos. Big eight inch ones, they like to pound them in their pussies to get off."

"And you?" Brett asks, breathing more heavily, his fingers tracing my nipples under my top. My pussy squeezes together in agony at his touch. "Do you use a dildo to get off, Ella?"

"No. I've never used anything. I never wanted to."

"So you're not very adventurous, is that it?"

I laugh softly. I laugh because he's got it so wrong. "Oh, I'm up for adventure. I just didn't want anything in my pussy that wasn't your cock." On that last word, I press hard against his stiff dick, the one I'm tracing with my fingers.

Brett groans. "Hell, Ella, I did not expect to hear that out of your beautiful little mouth."

"You like my mouth?" I know it's a coy question and maybe I'm fishing here, but I lap up his compliments.

"I love your mouth. I keep picturing it wrapped around my cock. I picture you sucking me off like the pretty little thing you are."

I whimper and his fingers run over my back, lifting the hem of my shirt ever so slightly and I feel bad for a second that there's no bare skin there for him to touch.

I'm wearing the black lace up corset, and I have a feeling he's about to see it.