Then I buy tickets for a Christmas concert scheduled before the Reykjavik Food Walk. We'll visit five to six unique Icelandic restaurants and get to eat a different cuisine at each of the venues. It's supposed to be super authentic, and I don't doubt Georgia will be pumped about it.

Finally, I buy tickets for ice skating. I know I'll spend most of the time on my ass since I'm not a skater, but Georgia's eyes lit up when she saw the rink. If it costs me bruised ass cheeks to see her glow like that, I'll do it all night long.

By the time I'm done planning, Liam sends me a text.

Liam: Permit's done, but it's 120k. Enjoy writing the check.

Me: Thanks. Now get your night crews on this. Whatever it takes, you need to be done by Christmas Eve.

Liam: That's pushing it.

Me: I don't care. Get it done.

Liam: Someone have you by the balls or something?

Yep. And happily so.

Me: It's for my wife. Now, get it done.

Twenty-Five

GEORGIA

A Few Days Later

The plane shakes with turbulence and more sweat coats my skin. Adrenaline sears through my cells. I cry out, "Sebastian!"

He removes his tongue from my clit and meets my eye. He challenges, "Do you want me to stop?"

"Sebastian Allen Cartwright! Don't you dare!" I shriek, trembling, and push his face back down on my body.

A spark ignites in his blues. He chuckles and latches on to my pussy like a vacuum cleaner.

"Oh...my..."

He stops and demands for the fifth time, "Say it if you want it, Mrs. Cartwright."

Caving, I blurt out, "You're the best husband ever!"

"That's my girl," he praises, then turns my pussy into his dinner.

Endorphins tornado through me right as the turbulence turns rougher. The high is so intense, the dark bedroom turns white. My incoherent cries get drowned out by the overhead bins rattling so loudly, it sounds like they're going to fall on us.

Before I know it, Sebastian flips me over. He pushes my face to the pillow, and his warm torso hits my spine. He moves my hands to the bars and orders, "Hold on, Sunshine, it's rough."

I grip the headboard, and his girth fills my pulsating body. I arch my back into him, but he leans closer, pinning me to the mattress.

The pilot comes on over the speaker, saying, "It's going to be bumpy, but we're landing. Please remain buckled up."

Like the previous warnings, Sebastian ignores it and thrusts faster inside me.

I moan, closing my eyes. Every time we have sex, it's like a new cupcake flavor I've perfected. I would have thought I'd be used to him after all our encounters in Iceland, but I'm not. And every time, we seem to get better.

"Christ, you're always so tight," he mumbles in my ear.

"You love it," I blurt out.