Destinee Holland

Session 𝓢ixty-Seven

Added 2025-06-05 05:51:30 +0000 UTC

Session 67: "The Flight"

⨳ ⨳ ⨳

Knots were tied in my stomach.

It was anticipation.

I was on this weird brink of anticipating Monroe's next move, and actually experiencing it.

The last thing she had told me to do was sit on the bed.

Then she walked over to the door beside the closet.

I stared ahead, listening intently to her footsteps, waiting for the moment she would emerge from the small room.

My eyes inevitably dipped down to her hands the moment she did.

I noticed the toys she held among something that looked like a small rubber ball attached to black straps.

I was confused.

Monroe was as composed as usual, calmly setting the various items on the bed beside me one by one.

Then her stare shifted to me, making the knots in my stomach deepen.

"Open," Monroe finally spoke through the silence, glancing down at my lips.

I opened my mouth before I could process it, watching as she grabbed the small rubber ball.

She lifted it to my lips, positioning the ball halfway inside my mouth.

Then she wrapped the straps past my cheeks and the side of my head, securing them at the back of my head.

The ball was held in place halfway inside my mouth, forcing my lips to remain parted.

I was gagged purely for her.

I don't think I could speak if I tried.

"Get on your arms and knees for me. Face pressed into the bed," Monroe instructed, her stare meeting mine.

I glanced over my shoulder at the empty bed, turning away from her to get on my knees first.

For some reason, I hesitated to lean down fully into the mattress.

It felt exposing even if she had seen every inch of me before.

But it's been so long since we've done this and—

I drew in a deep breath when I felt her featherlight touch against my back, guiding me down toward the mattress.

My face was pressed into the soft bed just as she specified, my arms lying by my side.

Monroe gently pressed against my back, forcing me to arch for her.

"What a lovely sight," I heard her murmur.

Then I felt her hands smooth down the side of my thighs, almost in a teasing manner.

"Mommy's going to play with you," she said so delicately, sending shivers down my spine, "I'm going to push you as far as you can go. Until you're crying, darling."

I forced a hum of acknowledgment, even if it was muffled.

"You're familiar with forced orgasms, Liberty," Monroe said, reminding me of our very first time together.

How painful it all felt.

I never made it to eight orgasms that night.

"I know you can be pushed further," Monroe determined as I inaudibly gasped, feeling something cold wrap around one ankle.

And then the other.

"Will you be good for me, Liberty?" she asked as she cuffed my other ankle.

A gasp spilled from my lips when I felt my legs abruptly spread apart, forcing me in place and open for her.

I forced a hum of acknowledgment for her, my skin prickling with goosebumps from being so exposed to the cold air.

"My good girl," she softly whispered, dipping her hand between my spread legs, "You have the freedom to tap the bed, darling. That will replace your safe word tonight."

I forced another weak hum, feeling myself beginning to drool from my mouth being forced open.

It made me feel even more degraded.

"If you want this to stop, you tap the bed, Liberty," Monroe stated more clearly, earning another quiet hum from me. "We'll start with forced orgasms. You have thirty seconds to orgasm. If not, I pull away and stimulate another orgasm instead."

I drew in a deep breath at her explanation, realizing I might just get edged over and over again if I can't orgasm for her in less than thirty seconds each time.

At least this gave me motivation.

Forced orgasms are better than rounds of edging any day.

Now I really need to focus on my orgasms, which feels harder to me.

A moan vibrated in my chest the moment I felt her fingers smooth over my core.

It made me shift, unconsciously rocking my hips as she lapped circles in my wetness.

"Someone's eager this evening," Monroe murmured as I subtly arched into her touch, whimpering for more.

My mouth felt wet with drool, squeezing my eyes shut when she began rubbing and teasing my clit.

It made my legs tense up, moaning as she circled my clit and stimulated me more.

I wanted to moan her name, but all I could force out were whimpers and moans.

"There you go, Liberty," she encouraged when my legs began trembling, growing wetter and wetter for her until—

I whined, arching into the bed the moment she withdrew her fingers, leaving me on an edge with this burning ache at my core.

"Thirty seconds, darling," she reminded me, sliding two fingers past my folds and burying them deeply inside of me.

Uncontrollable moans vibrated in my throat, drawing in deep breaths of air through my nose when she curled into me.

I unconsciously whined, quickly tightening around her fingers that kept pressing into my spot repeatedly.

I arched deeper, panting for air as I tried my best to chase my orgasm quicker.

But she slid out of me before I could, making my face burn up and a frustrated grunt burn in my throat.

"Come on, Liberty," she calmly murmured, "I know you can do it, darling."

That's when I heard a soft vibration echo in the air, sending me for a loop.

I squeezed my eyes shut, my legs trembling as I felt her press the vibrator against my slicked clit.

It made me shift, feeling too sensitive to even orgasm anymore.

At least not in thirty seconds.

I couldn't help the tears burning in my eyes, crying out of pure frustration for a simple orgasm.

But I just couldn't reach my peak within thirty seconds.

Monroe kept going anyway.

She kept pushing me, purposely teasing the vibrator against my clit.

It physically hurt when she pulled away, making my body tense up to the point that I began shaking and crying, drool coating the edges of my mouth.

I groaned when Monroe smoothly slipped a dildo inside of me, angling it against my spot and thrusting deeply at a steady pace.

I began moaning and grunting uncontrollably, feeling myself tighten around the vibrating toy, especially when she angled deeper against my spot.

Then finally—

I experienced my first orgasm in under thirty seconds, whining and moaning at the intense sensation.

I felt myself pulse around the toy before it was slid out of me.

I didn't even get to bask in my orgasm—her fingers were back to playing with my clit.

I pressed my face deeper into the soft mattress, trying to breathe through the aching pain and sensitivity I felt all at once.

Tears burned in my eyes, hearing her voice echo in my ears round after round.

It began to hurt, an unbearable ache at my core, and my legs trembling to hold me up.

At some point, I could feel my wetness dripping down my inner thighs.

Or the sounds of her touching me.

But I never tapped the bed.

I cried between my uncontrollable moans, my entire body burning from squeezing every muscle.

I didn't care about orgasming within thirty seconds.

I took it all for her.

It physically hurt, but mentally, it felt so relieving.

I felt good again, even if I was sobbing crying.

My moans grew weaker, grunting each time she withdrew.

I lost track of how many rounds she pushed me.

But I went past eight.

Everything felt blurred around me by the time Monroe withdrew for good, taking the cuffs off my ankles and releasing the gag in my mouth.

I collapsed onto the bed without so much as a sound, drawing in deep breaths and letting them out.

Monroe felt so far away from me as I blankly stared forward, trying to come back to reality.

All I could feel were tingles, but, God, did it feel better than anything else I had experienced before.

"Thank you," I breathed out, my words raspy and barely audible as I continued staring forward.

I heard her hum, the soft sound echoing around me, before I felt her warm hand against my cheek.

"You're shivering, Liberty," I heard her say, but I didn't bother looking away from the blurry wall.

I felt her hand retract from my cheek instead, running her arms underneath my body to shift me up toward the pillows.

Then the softness of a blanket was pulled over me, making me realize how cold I truly was.

I closed my eyes, letting out a deep content breath.

There was this pain aching down my body, but it was so fucking worth it.

It feels perfect to me.

"How are you feeling, sweet girl?" Monroe asked as she slid off her slippers and got into bed with me.

I relaxed the moment I felt her warm body pressed behind mine.

She wrapped her arms around my waist, holding me firmly with her hands pressed against my bare stomach.

"Good—better," I whispered, humming as she nuzzled her face into the crook of my neck and placed the softest kiss to my skin.

"Do you want to discuss what happened?" she said, her words muffled against my neck.

I remained silent for a moment, not even wanting to think back to what happened.

The phone call or how hard it was to fight my binge eating.

Even sitting in this bedroom alone, waiting for her.

But I... wanted to tell her.

It makes me feel closer to her and not so alone in all of this.

"My mother called about the therapy referral," I finally spoke, suddenly reaching up to gently hold her hands on my stomach. "She only ever cares about her image, and what I might do to destroy it. She didn't call about me."

"You are much more than an image, Liberty," she whispered against my neck, "She doesn't dictate your importance in this world."

"I'm important?" I asked in a soft whisper.

"You are very important. To me, your friends, you matter to people," Monroe didn't hesitate to say, "Your mother only cares about herself, but that's not your fault. You did nothing to make that happen."

I let out a deep sigh, keeping my eyes closed as I let her words register in my head.

It felt so nice to hear.

I matter to people—even if it's not to my mother, I still hold importance.

I'm more than a random phone call that ensures I'm staying in line, on my best behavior.

"She told me that she... provides everything I want. That I was acting ungrateful for saying how she made me feel," I suddenly said, squeezing my hands around hers, "I just told her to leave me alone. I genuinely want her to leave me alone."

"Let me handle that," Monroe suddenly said, "I'll take care of your rent or university costs, darling."

I immediately shook my head, "No, she's not going to actually cut me off," I tried to explain, knowing my mother wouldn't actually go through with leaving me like that.

She might be a terrible mother, but that's one line she wouldn't cross.

Especially because it would affect her image too.

She also wouldn't have leverage over me anymore.

"I want to take the option away from her," Monroe clarified, pressing another soft kiss to my neck, "She can't hold that over your head anymore, Liberty."

I remained silent for a moment, fully hesitant at her offer.

It wasn't anything new.

I already have a credit card from her.

But this is different.

This is... thousands of dollars.

"It's okay," I suddenly spoke, deciding not to let her pay it.

That's way too much money for her to give me.

"I'll write a scholarship. It will cover the rest of your tuition and your rent," Monroe still determined, not letting this one go, "Or pay off your apartment for the year. That's what I would rather do here."

"Monroe," I whispered, my face growing warm from her insane offer, "I can't take that."

"I'm awarding the scholarship to you either way, Liberty," she said, still not backing down on her decision. "It will be in your name, so you have some sort of security."

I didn't say anything in response.

There was a lot I wanted to say, but I felt really speechless.

And confused about what this would mean.

"What if," I suddenly whispered, "You or... we, decide to end this?"

I felt her smile against my neck, a genuine smile.

"We aren't deciding that," Monroe emphasized, suddenly letting out a soft sigh, "Liberty."

My name falling from her lips sent shivers down my spine.

It was the way she said it.

How her arms tightened around me.

"I'm not letting you go," she clarified, her words as serious as ever, "Even if you walked away now, I'm following you to the ends of the earth. There's no getting out of this."

Her words made me draw in a deep breath, especially with how genuine her voice was in my ear.

It made me feel really fucking warm, yet also a little unsettled by how serious she was.

Like I could run, and she would genuinely chase me down.

It was odd to think about, but I knew Monroe was fully capable of something like that.

"You... scare me sometimes, baby," I softly whispered.

Monroe only hummed in response, running her hands up my stomach to cup my bare breasts.

"I should," she agreed, making me draw in a soft breath, "The things I would do for you are inhumane, Liberty."

I shivered when she pressed another kiss to my neck, subtly sucking down on my skin.

A breathless sigh fell from my lips, feeling her grip grow firmer on my breasts as she sucked deeper on my skin, undoubtedly leaving another mark behind.

I relaxed against her with a soft hum, feeling her warm tongue smooth against my skin.

Then she placed another soft kiss on my neck, nuzzling her face back where it previously was.

I didn't move an inch.

I relaxed into the bed instead, closing my heavy eyes with a soft sigh.

Monroe felt so warm against me, and my entire body felt weighed down to the bed.

I've never felt so fucking exhausted.

The last thing I wanted to do was get up to try and eat.

I fell fast asleep before I could begin to process it.

The next time I woke up, the dim lamp was on instead of the overhead light—and the warmth of her body was gone.

I felt disoriented, furrowing my brows as I reached my arm out for the familiarity of her.

I was met with an empty bed instead, making me instinctively sit up with the covers pulled over my bare body.

My confusion grew, noticing the large silver suitcase by the door.

Then I heard it—the sound of a zipper and shuffling.

I glanced over to the open closet door, "Ro?" I called out, my voice raspy and tired as I rubbed my eyes.

Monroe emerged from the closet seconds later, rolling a shiny black suitcase by her side.

She was... fully dressed and ready?

Her soft brown hair was down with her bangs framing her face—wearing vintage dark jeans, a black sweater, and shiny dress shoes.

"What time is it?" I asked, glancing around frantically for my phone.

I left it downstairs last night, but now it's plugged in on the nightstand.

Monroe must have done that.

"It's only five, darling," Monroe told me, making my brows furrow deeper at the early time. "Go back to sleep."

"No... I should probably pack too," I whispered, feeling very unprepared.

I'm not sure when we're supposed to leave, but Monroe's fully dressed and packed...

I should be, too.

"I've already packed your suitcase," Monroe said, motioning to the silver one.

Which made me grow more confused.

I thought they were both hers, but she packed mine too?

When?

How?

I'm so confused.

"You just packed my stuff from your house?" I asked, rubbing under my eyes with a deep sigh.

I'm trying so hard to understand this right now.

"I went to your apartment and packed everything you should need for the weekend," Monroe explained as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

This is not normal.

If anything, I'm even more confused right now.

I mean, my keys are here, so I'm sure she just took those and went over.

But when?

That's my number one question right now.

"Did you have someone help or something? I'm confused about how you had time for this," I admitted.

"I stayed awake to handle everything," Monroe calmly murmured, rolling the suitcase over to the door with the other.

I blinked a few times. "Stayed awake?" I emphasized, eyeing her entire presence as I lifted the covers to slide out of bed.

Monroe hummed, "There was too much to do," she said, eyeing my bare body as I stood from the bed.

It made my face burn up, wrapping my arms over my chest in an attempt to hide myself away.

"So you didn't sleep at all?" I asked, walking over to her.

But Monroe's eyes didn't meet mine.

She openly stared at my neck, then noticeably glanced down, eyeing right between my legs.

"Monroe," I said more sharply, snapping my fingers up by my eyes.

She forced a hum, suddenly glancing up to meet my eyes.

She blinked once.

Then again, shaking her head.

"What did you say again, darling?" she softly whispered as I stopped in front of her.

"You didn't sleep at all?" I repeated, openly eyeing her face.

She looked as glowy as usual, especially with the light makeup she wore.

But I knew whatever concealer she wore hid the evidence of her lack of sleep.

"No," Monroe answered honestly, "I'll sleep later."

I remained silent, my eyes trailing her face for more.

There's definitely more here.

I don't know... I just feel it.

Something isn't right.

I suddenly reached out, running my arms around her waist and pulling her into a hug.

Monroe naturally relaxed against me, wrapping her arms around my waist to hold me even closer.

"We'll make time for you to sleep," I softly whispered, running my hands up her back.

Monroe hummed in response, but didn't say anything.

She only rested her head against my shoulder, relaxing deeper into the hug.

I remained entirely still, listening to the soft thump of her heartbeat as I caressed my fingertips against her covered back.

Minutes passed by us, but I wanted Monroe to be the one to pull away first.

It felt like she needed this hug, or some kind of physical touch, just without saying so.

I knew it was probably the fact that we're going to New York—back to a place she left.

I don't think it's sitting well with her.

I asked if she wanted to shower with me even after she pulled away from the hug.

I knew she was ready, but she could always tie her hair up and not put her face under the shower.

Monroe still declined, insisting on making breakfast and taking our bags downstairs.

I wanted to help, but once Monroe declined, I chose not to push it.

That's the last thing I wanted to do, given I wasn't sure where she was at mentally.

I focused on showering instead, pulling on the outfit Monroe laid out for me after I was done.

She managed to pick out one of my favorite pairs of brown athletic leggings with the matching tank top.

There was also this cream long-sleeve V-neck that paired well over the tank top.

I never would've thought to wear it like that, but Monroe managed to put me onto a new way to put it all together.

I felt really comfortable, especially in a pair of my favorite cream Nike's.

I also didn't do any makeup, just skincare, and then I touched up my hair.

By the time I made it downstairs, Monroe already had a breakfast sandwich waiting for me.

Our bags were also by the front door that I passed by toward the kitchen.

The sandwich she made was damn near perfect, especially with the eggs and real bacon she used for me.

There was also cheese and avocado layered between.

I swear, I was in heaven.

Monroe even cut up strawberries and bananas for me to eat, too, which I finished as well.

She seemed content that I ate so much, meanwhile, I was a little concerned that she decided to skip breakfast.

Still, I decided not to push that further, or anything for that matter.

I planned to make sure she would eat later.

She just seems... off right now.

Like she's calm, unnaturally calm, but there's something there.

I can't explain it.

Even the chauffeured car ride to the airport was a little too quiet.

Or she was more silent, letting me talk freely as she nodded from time to time to acknowledge she was listening to me.

I was mostly going on about the sandwich, or how disoriented I felt when I woke up earlier.

I was so engrossed in the conversation I had created that I never realized we weren't headed to the usual Seattle airport.

But it clicked in my head the moment we made it to a tarmac.

I'm not sure why I expected us to take a commercial flight given Monroe's financial background.

Even my mother rents out private planes.

Although something tells me this plane wasn't rented...

But I decided not to question her about anything, getting comfortable in the cushioned seat beside Monroe, who stared ahead.

It was odd.

She looked zoned out, blankly staring ahead with her hands clasped together in her lap, and her leg crossed over the other.

It didn't feel like she was mentally here with me.

I wasn't sure what to do.

I mean, she has these checked-out moments, but they don't last for more than a few minutes.

Yet, she sat like that for minutes on end.

I even had to politely motion the flight attendant away—who had emerged the moment the plane was safely in the air.

But after almost an hour, I was tired of pretending like something wasn't wrong.

I didn't want to ignore the clear problem here.

"Ro," I suddenly said, reaching over to place my hand over hers that were still tightly clasped together.

She shifted under me, so much so that I considered whether she flinched.

Monroe blinked a few times, but her gaze was still trapped ahead.

I gently squeezed my hand over hers, "Ro Ro," I softly whispered, hoping to divert her attention.

She forced a soft hum, turning her head before her eyes could follow her line of sight.

Until finally—

Her stare shifted, locking with mine.

"Hi baby," I softly whispered, reaching up to gently cup her cheeks.

"Hi," she whispered back, tilting her head slightly as her eyes trailed my face.

I remained silent for a moment as I looked at her, entirely engrossed in my thoughts for a moment.

I just wanted to make her feel better in the best way possible.

I just didn't know which route I should take.

Monroe isn't the most open about her life in New York or her family.

I don't want to pressure her.

"Do you need something, darling?" Monroe asked as soon as I stood from my seat, "I can call the flight attendant over?"

"No, baby," I murmured, gently grabbing her hand to guide her to stand too.

Monroe looked confused as I brushed past her, gently pulling her along by her hand.

"Is everything okay, Liberty?" Monroe instinctively asked as we walked down the aisle toward the back of the plane.

I didn't say anything in response.

I just pulled her along toward the bathroom.

I impatiently pushed the door open, gently tugging her inside with me.

The space was small, but not as small as a regular plane.

There was enough room for two people to stand side by side easily.

"Liberty?" she said as soon as I lowered down onto my knees.

I only gathered my hair at the back of my head, grabbing one of her hands to hold it out of my face for me.

"Darling," Monroe spoke again, staring down at me as she held my hair out of my face, "This is the last thing you need to do."

I undid her belt and reached for the button of her jeans, but I didn't undo them.

At least not with how unsure she sounded.

"Let me take care of you," I softly whispered, staring up at her with a softened look, "I want to take care of you, baby."

Monroe remained silent, her darkened blue eyes sinking so deeply into mine.

I couldn't tell where her mind was at, and I hated it.

I hated how far she felt from me.

"Can I please take care of you, mommy?" I asked her, tilting my head innocently.

It was enough to make Monroe look away from me, drawing in such a deep breath that her chest visibly rose.

"I'll do really good," I assured her, "I'll help you feel better."  I watched her jawline grow sharper, clenching her jaw as she looked back down at me.

"Please?" I whispered when she remained silent for longer.

If she doesn't go for this, I'm not sure what my backup plan is.

"Okay, Liberty," she finally said, making an unconscious smile grow on my lips, "Show me how good you can be."

My smile widened when she tightened her grip in my hair, unbuttoning her jeans with ease and unzipping them for her.

Then I guided them down to her ankles with her smooth nude underwear, pressing her soft thighs further apart.

I openly eyed her core, from her subtle pink folds to how groomed she always kept herself.

"Perfect," I unconsciously whispered before I could think it through.

My face burned up the moment I met her stare, processing the unconscious compliment I spoke aloud.

"You're just... really perfect," I decided to say, drawing in the most nervous breath as I waited for her response.

But Monroe didn't say anything.

At least for a few seconds—she was genuinely processing my honest words.

"You're really perfect, darling," she softly whispered back to me, her blue eyes not wavering from mine.

I smiled slightly, openly staring up at her for a moment.

"Thank you, baby," I murmured, subtly winking at her.

Then I impatiently leaned in, pressing my mouth to her and dragging my tongue up her soft wet folds.

I groaned the moment she tugged at my hair, the softest moan vibrating in her throat.

I kept a slow pace, gently sucking on her clit and purposely glancing up to meet her stare pinned on me.

"Mon dieu," she breathed out when I began lapping my tongue around her soft clit.

Her natural French accent made my head grow fuzzy, pressing my tongue so much firmer against her.

Monroe arched against the door behind her in response with the most beautiful moan, holding my stare as I sped up my pace against her.

"Liberty," she breathed my name out between moans, sending shivers down my spine.

It only encouraged me more, sucking and licking her clit as she used her free hand to grab one of mine.

And guide it up to her core.

My lips parted against her the moment she guided two of my fingers past her slick folds, thrusting them into herself.

"Fuck, Monroe," I breathed out before I could even filter out the cuss word.

I was too overwhelmed by how wet she felt, the warmth that squeezed around my fingers.

She felt so fucking good.

I couldn't think properly.

"Suck for me, Liberty," she said, tugging me further into her by my hair.

I groaned as I sucked down even more on her clit, giving her exactly what she was asking me for.

Monroe instinctively reached for the sink, deep breaths spilling from her lips as I pressed directly into her, feeling the soft ridges of her G-spot.

"God, Liberty," she groaned so perfectly for me, coating my body in goosebumps as I circled her clit faster with my tongue.

I basked in her warmth tightening around my fingers, feeling her wetness dripping past my wrist.

"Ro, baby," I said, my words muffled against her core, "You are so wet, oh my god."

"For you," I heard her breathlessly say as I began speeding up my pace.

Monroe gripped the sink tighter, tugging so roughly at my hair that it made my eyes water in the best fucking way.

I pressed my fingers deeper inside of her, sucking just right on her clit until—

"My god, Liberty."

I began sloppily kissing her clit, my saliva dripping down her folds as I continued pressing deeper into her g-spot.

I watched her beautiful eyes roll closed, her body trembling, and moans spilling from her lips.

It was truly a perfect sight.

"Yes, baby," I encouraged her as she fell deeper into her orgasm, coating my fingers so fucking perfectly.

At this point, she had my arm dripping with her arousal, my fingers coated with her release.

A soft hum vibrated in her throat as she relaxed against the door, running her hands tirelessly over her face.

"Liberty," she breathed out, shaking her head as if she had genuinely lost her mind.

The way I just fucked her pushed her to those lengths, and I loved it.

"Do you need anything else while I'm down here, baby?" I softly asked her, slowly sliding out of her as I leaned away from her core.

"No," Monroe said, the word falling breathlessly from her lips, "Come here."

I didn't hesitate to pull her underwear and pants back up in one motion, stumbling up onto my feet where she wanted me.

Monroe immediately pressed her soft lips to mine, slipping her tongue into my mouth.

I hummed when she impatiently grabbed my throat, pulling me in deeper.

"Ro," I laughed, even if it was muffled by her mouth on mine, slipping her tongue deeper and deeper into my mouth with each kiss we exchanged.

"Shhh," was all she said, sucking down on my bottom lip.

I smiled even wider when she let go of my lip with a soft pop, pressing repetitive kisses to my lips.

"Feel better now?" I asked, already so thankful for the new mood I managed to put her in.

"Much better," she softly murmured, making everything light up inside of me.

I was just happy I could make a difference for her.

Getting through to her means so much to me.

"Here," I said, reaching back to grab some toilet paper for her.

Otherwise, she's going to feel very uncomfortable.

"Thank you, my sweet girl," she murmured, taking the toilet paper from my extended hand as I reached over to turn the sink on.

We both focused on cleaning ourselves up, ensuring we looked decent before walking out of this bathroom.

Even if I'm sure everyone on this plane heard what just happened.

But I genuinely don't care.

Monroe is happy, and that's all that matters to me.

I was nearly on top of the world when we sat down, and she was open to eating something.

She had them keep In-N-Out on board for me as a surprise later, but I insisted that we share it now instead.

I wasn't that hungry, so I just ate some of the fries that they reheated, making sure Monroe ate the burger.

I also fed her some of the fries as well.

"Happy, darling?" Monroe asked me as the flight attendant took our trash away.

"Very happy," I determined, eyeing her perfect face, "Now about you getting some sleep..." I purposely trailed off with a growing smile.

Monroe's soft lips twitched up, "Once we get to the hotel," she assured me.

"Or," I suddenly murmured, lifting the armrest up between us, "You can lie down right here and take a nap."

Her soft smile grew, "God, you're adorable," she whispered, leaning in to softly kiss my lips, "I'm not very tired, but I'll lie down for you, darling."

"Deal," I didn't hesitate to agree, motioning for her to lie her head on my lap.

Monroe silently stared at me for another moment, her blue eyes trailing my face.

Until she inevitably leaned down to lay her head in my lap, sighing deeply as she got comfortable against me.

"This is a first," she subtly murmured as I reached down to softly brush her bangs away from her face.

"Good," I determined, gently caressing her cheek as she relaxed deeper against me.

A calm silence grew around us as I continued softly caressing her cheek, or her forehead, even the edges of her jawline.

Within minutes, she naturally let her eyes fall closed, but she was definitely still awake.

I could tell.

The moment her breaths grew softer and her face was more relaxed, I knew she had actually fallen asleep.

It was so fucking cute—the sight of her in my lap, her soft lips slightly parted, and her brows relaxed.

All I could do was stare down at her.

I refused to move even the tiniest bit.

My breaths were measured and not too long, just to ensure I didn't wake her.

I had to motion the flight attendant away before she could possibly come over to us.

I knew she would've talked to me since Monroe was asleep, but even the slightest sound of voices could wake her.

I made sure she slept through the rest of the flight to New York, which was luckily fiveish hours.

At some point, I dozed off myself, but it was a very light sleep, considering how still I tried to be underneath her.

Once the pilot came on the intercom to announce that we were officially gearing up for landing, I had to gently wake Monroe up to buckle her seatbelt.

She looks so cute when she first wakes up.

Her guard is down more than ever, and her thoughts always show on her face without further contemplation.

Although the moment she filtered back into reality, she was a little more tense, but she wasn't zoned out, so that was a win to me.

Well... at least until we landed.

The moment we stepped off that plane, Monroe immediately paused in front of me, coming to a sharp halt on the stairs.

I curiously glanced past her, wondering if it was the possibility of her parents.

But it was just a tinted Rolls Royce SUV with a driver standing out front.

He had silvery grey hair and noticeable wrinkles, wearing a suit and an earpiece in his ear.

The man stood with a stiff posture, staring ahead like a literal statue.

"They sent one of their drivers," Monroe said, continuing her descent down the stairs.

I followed silently behind her, piecing together that "they" probably referred to her parents.

"That's... nice?" I hesitantly said, unsure of what I was meant to say in this situation.

"No," Monroe shut my words down as we stepped down from the staircase fully, "I hired one of my drivers. Not theirs."

I blinked a few times, "Oh, I didn't realize, baby," I whispered, wondering if this was a control thing for her.

Maybe her parents' doing this was already threatening her control.

"We can wait for one of yours, then," I offered as we approached the SUV, hoping to help ease her.

"Madame Leclair," the older man respectfully nodded his head down the moment we were within five feet of him.

"Dr. Leclair," Monroe corrected the title, "Don't open her door, Allen."

I awkwardly pursed my lips at her straightforward words, noticing the man politely nodding his head again.

I guess Monroe knows the driver.

She probably knows all her family's staff.

"Understood, Dr. Leclair," he said, unclasping his hands from behind his back to round the car toward the driver's seat.

Monroe pulled the back door open for me, motioning her head inside.

"Thank you," I whispered as I slipped past her into the warm backseat.

I noticed our luggage was already packed into the trunk, and I honestly questioned how they transferred it from the plane that quickly.

It was all I had to think about opposed to the awkward silence filtering in around all three of us.

"We really could've waited for a different driver," I whispered to her, glancing away from the window to Monroe.

"I wouldn't make you wait on an inconvenience as small as this," Monroe told me, briefly glancing at the driver, focused on the road, "A very massive inconvenience, might I emphasize."

The man named Allen didn't acknowledge Monroe's pinpointed remark.

Meanwhile, all I could do was awkwardly stare back out of the window at the open backroads, unsure of what else to say right now.

This already doesn't feel like it's off to a great start.

"The hotel is in the city, Allen," Monroe calmly spoke again.

"I was instructed to drive you to La Maison Leclair, madame," he said, naturally making my brows furrow.

I wasn't sure what the man said since it was partially in French, but I did pick up on the last name he used.

That's not a good sign, I think.

I glanced away from the tinted window before I could process it, and almost immediately, I noticed the look on Monroe's face.

Her tightened jaw and narrowed stare.

She is not happy.

Yeah, this car ride definitely isn't going to end well.

"Stop the car," Monroe suddenly instructed the driver.