The Unwanted Marriage: Dion and Faye’s Story (The Windsors)

“I’ve been trying to get you to smile like that for weeks,” Dion tells me as we park on the tarmac, right at the entrance of a large black private jet with the Windsor crest on it in gold. “If I’d known taking you on a trip would do it, I’d have carried you onto a plane every single day.”

My eyes widen in horror on his behalf, and he chuckles. “Don’t even joke about it,” I murmur. “I’d hate to see you suffering every day.”

His gaze roams over my face, searching. “You care about me, huh?”

I frown at him. “Of course, Dion. You’re my husband.”

His eyes flash, and he leans in, his lips brushing against mine. “That’s the first time you’ve called me your husband,” he murmurs, before kissing me slowly, softly. His hand moves to my face, and he cups my cheek gently as he tears his lips off mine. “You act like my wife in bed, but not outside of it,” he adds, his tone somewhat bitter. “Our conversations are still overly polite and distant. You won’t let me in.”

I tense, startled. “I… I didn’t…”

I didn’t think that’s something you’d want.

If I let you in, you wouldn’t like what you’d find.

You haven’t let me in either.

I’m not even sure what I’m trying to say. I know what it is he truly wants to know, of course. He’s been wondering why I played until I bled, but there’s no way for me to explain that to him. How do I tell him that being ordered to manipulate him into staying married to me tainted everything I thought we could’ve had together? How do I tell him that I’d thought my marriage to him was a blessing in disguise, only to find out my father never intended to let me leave his clutches? I’ve never felt so hopeless before. I’ll never be free, not truly, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

“Come on,” he murmurs. “We don’t have much time left before takeoff.”

Dion offers me his hand as we walk up the steps to the plane, and with each step we take, he becomes more tense. It’s hard for me to fathom how he does this on a near weekly basis when it affects him so badly.

“This plane is much bigger than the last one we were on,” I murmur. “So hopefully it’ll be a smoother flight.”

He nods, his face a little paler than before. Maria is standing next to the pilot and falls silent mid-conversation when she notices me behind Dion, confusion flickering through her eyes before she forces a smile.

“Faye,” she says, smiling. Her eyes drop to our joined hands, and she abruptly tears her gaze away. “I didn’t realize you’d be here. Let me check if all the paperwork is in order for you to join us.”

She steps away as Dion leads me down the aisle, and I take in our surroundings. This plane is laid out like a large living room, with comfortable sofas in the back and a few rows of chairs facing each other, with tables in between. “Where do you want to sit?” Dion asks, and I look up at him, taking in his increasing anxiety.

“Which seat would make you most comfortable?” I ask in return.

He smiles and leads me to the sofa in the back. “How about here?” he murmurs. “I like being able to stretch out my legs.”

I nod and sit down in the seat he chose for me, and he chuckles when he realizes I can’t quite place my feet flat on the floor.

“This plane was built for my siblings and me, and we’re all much, much taller than you,” he says as he kneels in front of me, surprising me. He grabs my seatbelt, taking his time to adjust it and buckle me in. I stare at him, my heart skipping a beat. He’s outrageously handsome with those sharp cheekbones and his perfect face. Even his lashes are annoyingly long, and I’ve grown an unhealthy obsession with pushing my hand through his thick, dark hair. But that wouldn’t have been enough to tear down my walls. It’s the way he treats me.

“Why are you always on your knees in front of me?” I murmur.

His eyes flash, and for a moment, he leisurely drags them down my legs, no doubt remembering the last time he was in this position — in our living room. “I’d love to be on my knees behind you too,” he whispers. “I haven’t taken you from behind yet.”

My eyes widen and heat instantly rushes to my face, making him chuckle. “Fucking adorable,” he murmurs, before brushing the back of his hand over my cheek. “It’s because you’re so fucking small. When I stand in front of you, I have to bend down too far to kiss you. I like being at eye-level — besides, when you’re sitting and I’m on my knees, it’s easy to do this.” He grabs my chin and brings my face closer, pressing a lingering kiss to my lips. I flush scarlet, and he grins as he sits down next to me moments before Maria walks in our direction. He buckles himself in and places a hand on my leg as she sits down on the sofa opposite us.

“Did you want to accompany the pilot for his final checks?” she asks carefully, as though she isn’t sure I’m aware of his fear of flying. I tense at the thought of the countless times she must’ve helped him through it, an uncomfortable feeling settling in the pit of my stomach.

“It’s alright,” he says, squeezing my leg. “I think I’m fine.”

Her eyes trail down to his hand, and she jerks her gaze away. “Okay,” she replies. “Then we’ll be ready for takeoff soon.”

Dion grows increasingly restless as the minutes trickle down, and as soon as the plane is in motion, he begins to tap his foot.

“Let’s go over the client details,” Maria says, in an obvious attempt to distract him. Something about her demeanor doesn’t sit well with me. Perhaps I’m just being sensitive, but it’s almost like she’s trying to pretend I’m not here at all, or like my presence is irrelevant, unwanted even.

She begins to tell him about contract terms, points of negotiation and contestation, and so forth. Her voice is soothing, likely purposely so, and I get the feeling that this is a ritual of sorts for them. It’s selfish, but I dislike the way they interact, the way she seems to know him just as well as I do, if not better. I was always grateful that Dion didn’t pay me any attention while we’re engaged, but now I find myself silently blaming him for keeping her so close while he wanted nothing to do with me.

Dion’s thumb begins to draw circles over my skirt once we pause on the runway, and his breathing becomes more shallow. I turn to face him, my concern for him heightening by the second.

“Dion,” I murmur, interrupting Maria’s words. He glances at me, and I reach for him hesitantly, my hand trembling ever so slightly as I cup his cheek, keeping his eyes on mine. The plane begins to barrel down the runway and he clenches his jaw.

I lean in to kiss him, my touch hesitant as my lips brush over his. He groans and instantly buries his free hand in my hair, his grip tight as he kisses me roughly, devouring me. I gasp, and his tongue slides against mine, tasting, teasing. He pulls me as close as he can get me with both our seatbelts on, his hand slipping between my thighs, just below the hem of my skirt.

Turbulence shakes the plane for a moment or two, and he tears his lips off mine to bury his face in my neck, the way he did when we went to Hawaii. This time, he sucks down on my skin harshly, drawing a whimper from my lips.

I open my eyes to find Maria staring at us with a pained expression, shock and misery flashing through her eyes before she averts her gaze.

“Just a little longer and the plane will steady,” I murmur, refocusing my attention on Dion.

He nods and nips at my ear, his body trembling slightly as he continues to press soft kisses to my skin, as though my touch is as drugging to him as he is to me.

A soft sound rings over my head, and Maria instantly undoes her seatbelt, jumping off her sofa as though it scalded her, as though she can’t bear to be near us for a moment longer. It’s vicious and downright mean, but it fills me with a sense of satisfaction to know he chose to lose himself in me when she was right there. He chose me.

“Bedroom,” he murmurs, undoing my seatbelt in one swift move. I gasp when Dion lifts me into his arms and carries me through a door in the back, kicking it closed behind him. “I can’t be patient with you right now,” he warns as he seats me on the edge of the bed in a room that’s far too luxurious for a plane.

“I don’t want you to be,” I whisper as I look up at him through my lashes. “I want you to use me, Dion. Let me be your escape. Let me make you forget.”

He groans as he undoes his pants and takes out his cock, stroking it a few times. “Open your mouth,” he orders. “You won’t be able to use your safe words, so pinch my waist if you feel uncomfortable and I’ll stop.”

I immediately do as he asks, and he places his cock at the tip of my tongue. “Such a good fucking girl,” he tells me as he pushes in just a little, his hand burying in my hair. “Look at how you’re taking my cock, baby. Just look at you.”

I close my lips around him, my tongue swirling over his ridges, lapping the way I did when I kissed him.

“Can you take me a little deeper?”

I nod, and he pushes further, until my gag reflex kicks in.

“Breathe slowly, baby. You can do this. I know you can.”

He grabs my hair tightly and tilts my head up, pushing in just a little further until I feel him at the back of my throat. He’s barely even halfway in, and I don’t think I can take much more.

I look into his eyes, taking in the pleasure and awe in them. It makes me feel so good and so powerful to know I’m doing this for him, that I’m providing the escape that he’s given me more often than he realizes.

I swallow around him, and he moans loudly. My eyes widen, worried the pilot or Maria might hear, but he doesn’t seem to care. He’s lost in me. “Can I move, baby? I need to fuck your mouth, Faye. I need you.”

I nod just a little, and he slowly begins to thrust, keeping my head still as I suck down on him, my tongue lapping at every part I can reach. Soft moans escape my lips, and his gaze becomes more heated. “You like that, huh? You like sucking your husband’s cock?”

I moan in reply, and he smirks at me, pleased. “My good girl,” he whispers. “Your mouth is so perfect, baby. You’re so good at this, so good at taking my cock.”

I squirm, heat pooling low in my belly at his words, and he chuckles darkly. “Is your pussy wet for me, Faye?”

My eyes widen, and he tightens his grip on my hair. “Slide your hand down your body and push your underwear aside,” he orders. I do as he asks, nervous and eager, a hint of shame making me hesitate. “Push your middle finger in, baby.”

I moan loudly, and he pushes deeper into my throat, thrusting gently, moving only an inch or so back and forth. He watches me as though I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, intense satisfaction simmering in his eyes.

“Give me those fingers,” he groans, reaching for my hand. He lifts it to his face, his eyes on mine as his mouth closes around my middle finger. I watch him as he sucks it clean, and my pussy begins to throb just as turbulence shakes the plane again.

Dion tenses and grits his teeth, a hint of panic making its way into his eyes as he pulls out of my mouth. He stands there for a moment and runs a hand through his hair, looking more lost than I’ve ever seen him before.

“Take me,” I plead. “Fuck me, Dion.”

His attention refocuses on me, and he smirks as he pushes against my shoulder, making me fall back onto the bed. “There’s nothing I want more,” he murmurs as he lifts my hips and yanks my panties off, not bothering with the rest of our clothes as he climbs on top of me.

His fingers brush against my pussy, and he groans loudly when he realizes how wet I am. “Look at you,” he moans. “Soaking wet for your husband. Did sucking my cock make you wet, angel?”

I nod, and he pushes against my entrance. “Of course it did, my perfect little wife.” He stares into my eyes for a moment as the plane shakes, and then he pushes into me in one hard, deep stroke, drawing a loud moan from my throat. I’m almost embarrassed to admit it, but sucking him off pushed me all the way to the brink of an orgasm. I’m far closer than he realizes.

“You’re so good at taking my cock,” he murmurs, his hands pulling at my blouse. “I need to see you.” I help him take off my blouse, and he moans when my bra comes undone. “Fuck.”

His hands wrap around my hips and he lifts my lower body up with him as he rises to his knees, pulling me onto his cock deeper.

“Wrap your legs around me tightly,” he orders. I do as he asked, and his eyes fall closed for a moment, his breathing ragged as he begins to undress. He watches me as he takes off his suit jacket and then his shirt, smirking when my eyes roam over his abs. “Like what you see?”

I blush scarlet when his shirt hits the floor, and his hands find their way back to my hips. There’s something so captivating about the adoration in his eyes. His gaze roams over my bare breasts and the way my skirt is wrapped around my waist, and then he pulls out of me a little, his eyes moving to the apex of my thighs. He grins as he pushes back into me roughly, and I tighten my legs around his hips further, my inner muscles squeezing involuntarily. “Love watching my cock disappear in your tight, hungry pussy,” he says, doing it again.

There’s something so sexy about the way he moves, the way his suit pants are still wrapped around his thighs, as though he couldn’t bear to disconnect from me long enough to kick them off fully.

My muscles flutter around him again, and his eyes flash as lays me back down and moves on top of me. His hand moves to my thigh as he hitches it up, changing the angle he’s taking me at.

“You make the whole world fade away, you know that?” he says as he begins to thrust harder, his movements swift and deep, filled with the same desperation I feel. “When I’m inside you, I feel complete. You were never supposed to make me feel this way, Faye. What the fuck have you done to me, hmm?”

“Dion,” I moan, my fingers threading through his hair. He drops his forehead to mine as he continues to fuck me roughly, his hips rotating a little in a way that presses against a sensitive spot inside me. “I can’t take it.”

“You can,” he growls. “You will.” He fucks me harder, his hands roaming all over my body as though he can’t get enough of me. “Take my cock like the good girl you are, Faye.”

The plane begins to shake again, but his movements don’t even falter. His eyes stay on mine, and he continues to drive into me like nothing matters more than I do. “Look at you, baby,” he whispers. “I’m so proud of you. You’re so good at taking my cock. So good.”

I begin to pant, incoherent pleas escaping my lips, and he smirks, enjoying the way I’m falling apart for him. “You want to come for me, don’t you?” he murmurs.

I nod. “Please,” I moan. “I’m so close.”

His hand moves between us, and he looks into my eyes as his thumb brushes over my clit. “Oh God, Dion,” I moan. “Yes!”

“You sexy little thing. My perfect, perfect wife. Come for me, baby. I need to feel your pussy tighten around my cock.”

And it does. It tightens for him, wave after wave of pleasure rocking my body. He groans and pulls back almost all the way before sheathing himself deep inside me, a satisfied moan filling my ears as he comes alongside me.

Dion collapses on top of me, and I wrap my arms around him, hugging him tightly while he presses soft lingering kisses to my neck. Turbulence hits the plane again, but he doesn’t even tense this time, he just continues to kiss me.

One of my hands makes its way into his hair, my nails gently scraping his scalp as I massage him the way I did on the last flight we took together. “I want to,” I whisper, more to myself than to him. “I want to let you in. I just don’t know how.”