"Small world," she purred, her legs crossed. Her skirt rode up past her knees, revealing dark, thigh-high stockings held up by garters. Damien always liked seeing a woman in thigh-highs. Her cleavage was transformed into a work of art by the push-up bra she wore.
"I guess so," Damien said as he stowed his bag in the overhead compartment. He sank down in the seat and closed his eyes.
"The strong, silent type," purred the woman. "At least you won't chat me to death on the plane ride."
"Nope."
"Pity," she purred. "I bet you could provide a stimulating conversation."
Is she hitting on me?
The exhaustion of the last week of hunting pulled on Damien. He kept his eyes closed, letting him sink down into sleep. Damien, like every soldiers since the first man was press-ganged into some petty tyrant's army, had learned how to sleep anywhere. He dozed through the safety briefing as the plane taxied to the runway.
The roar of the engines as they powered up for takeoff pulled him out of sleep for a moment. He didn't open his eyes as the plane shot down the runway, pressing him back into his seat. The plane shook, the woman beside him gasped.
She's wearing Chanel perfume, he realized as the plane leapt into the air. A smile crossed his lips as he drifted down into sleep. A few years ago, he had bought Abigail a Chanel perfume, at the recommendation of the woman working in the perfume department, for her birthday. His wife had loved it.
And he had loved how his wife smelled wearing it.
As Damien fell into sleep, his dreams turned to his wife.
It was the hand on his thigh that brought Damien out of his sleep. The plane was at cruising altitude. Like on most red eyes, the cabin was dim and the passengers around him were sleeping. All except the woman beside him.
Her hand was on his thigh. Her hazel eyes almost were golden as she stared at him.
"What?" Damien groaned as he shook off sleep.
"Shhh," she whispered, "you'll wake everyone else."
Her hand moved higher. He was all too aware of her hand reaching for his crotch. His dick swelled hard, tenting his jeans. The woman purred, her cleavage jiggling as she turned her body. His gaze fell into the valley formed by her lush mounds.
"I'm married," Damien said as her hand reached his crotch. He fought his groan as she squeezed.
"I don't care," the woman answered. Her lips were a deep ruby.
"You need to stop," he said again as she stroked him through his jeans.
"You don't want me to stop," she laughed.
There was a part of Damien that wanted her to continue. It confused him that it was winning against the other part of him. His hand refused to move to seize her wrist and pull her away from his crotch. His cheeks reddened as she stroked his crotch again through his jeans before her fingers reached the zipper of his jeans.
Something's not right, a part of Damien realized. It was the part drown out by the powerful throb in his cock.
"Mmm, I can tell you don't want me to stop," the woman purred, her lips drifting closer. "This part of your body is more honest."
"That part of my body doesn't get a vote."
"Then stop me." Her fingers drew down his zipper. It made a loud, rasping sound. Damien looked around at the plane. Everyone was still sleeping. His heart raced. A flight attendant could walk down the aisle at any moment.
Why aren't I fighting this?
The woman purred as her hand reached into his jeans and rubbed at his black cotton briefs. "I didn't take you for a briefs man."
Damien answered with a groan as her finger caressed the tip of his dick. Her hand felt warm through his underwear. Not a vampiress. The air was too cool in the plane for her to feel so hot against him.
"What are you?" Damien managed to spit out. There were other creatures than vampires out there that also preyed on humans. Other Knights Venator trained to hunt different creatures than Damien.
"Your lover," she answered with a sultry wink. Her free hand, the one not caressing his dick through his underwear, reached back and unpinned her hair. It fell in a loose, tousled mass of blonde about her face.
"You're not," Damien groaned. "My wife is."
"And she isn't here." The woman's fingers pulled down his underwear. His cock sprang out into her hands.