His heavy cock lays right between your lower lips, nudging the sensitive bundle of nerves that feel overstimulated and neglected at the same time. Rightfully so because every time his hips thrust forward, the hot and girthy weight of his shaft glides against the nub, making your back arch for the nth time. The wet slick of your cunt causes him to hunch above you in concentration, friction from the slip of his cock frying his brain. It's only when you start grinding up against him that his words squeeze out.

"You–"

A groan cuts his articulation short and leaves it to die in the back of his throat. His jaw is set, teeth gritting from his restraint; his eyes train on where the two of you touch, at the cause of the shared pleasure. With a grunt, he thrusts his hips forward once more, prying another gasp from you.

He slightly draws his body away from yours, pushing his hips to meet flush with yours. His balls press up against your slit, and the heft of his cock is felt on your stomach as he measures himself against you; fizzled ponderings of how deep he could be inside you yearned for satiety.

It's all a quick moment before you feel the flushed tip of his cock prodding the tight ring of your weeping hole.

"You can take it, can't you?"

The words once lost in his throat come out rhetorical, not truly needing you to answer before he wills himself to fuck you.

a/n: so, who'd you think about? oh, fr? >:)

the way he fills you to the brim was nerve racking, the way every inch of his pulses like he's aching to come, but won't, not until you do as his thumb finds your clit and rubs fast circles through the protective skin of it, too intense yet you needed more when he just moaned out your name, loving your frame jerking under him, all from overstimulation and burning want.

"that's what i want baby," zayne grunts, voice fraying around the edges, "that exact sound, that exact fucking look," as a deep groan claws out of him when you tighten around his length, his hips snapping forward when you do it again.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ xavier + becomes controlling over your pleasure

xavier doesn't touch you the way normal men touch, you see, there's no rush to his movements— no hunger on the surface as his breath remained even and his hands steady, his voice staying clinical as he sits at the foot of the bed, one hand pressed flat to your trembling inner thigh while the other disappears between your legs, fingers curling in filling strokes.

he watches the way your stomach flinches, the ripple of your thighs when he presses just a little deeper and the way your hips buck, chasing friction like instinct, and then jolt back in shame when you realize how carefully he's observing your entire frame.

"don't look away, you hear me," xavier's voice spills out like cold metal dragged across skin, remaining glacial at its core, "i want you to see what i see, how you fall apart for me, how you spasm every time i do this—" as he crooks his fingers again, making you choke on your breath as your toes curl, your cunt clamping down around him with a squelch so obscene it makes your whole body jerk upwards.

"you're soaked baby, fuck, have been for minutes, i've barely done anything," xavier's gaze alone pins you down, fierce and unblinking as his jaw ticks once— like he's bracing himself for the ruin he's about to make of you, "—and yet, you're trembling like i've fucked you raw."

well, okay, lets be honest here— you are trembling, in fact, your thighs just won't stop twitching even if you focus on them very hard.

the heat was just too much— sickly sweet and humiliating, a swelling ache that lived in your belly and climbed higher every time he curled his fingers up and rubs, fuck, you're soaking the sheets, desperately so, your slick dripping down his wrist and touching him up— quite hilarious, wasn't it? if you consider that xavier still hasn't even taken his shirt off yet.

you try to reach down and press his hand deeper into your cunt to find any friction on your clit, to relieve this maddening, building pressure that's leaving your vision white at the edges, yet his other hand shoots out— clamping around your wrist with enough strength to make you wince.

"don't," he says softly, but the warning inside was unmistakable, "don't, you're not allowed to interfere,"

you sob out his name in high tunes as your stomach tightens when he adds another finger, thighs shaking violently, you want, no, need, to have him closer, perhaps even have his tongue stroke through your hole to chase that spark building behind your ribs, but he won't let you.

"it's more interesting when you're desperate," xavier admits bluntly, withdrawing his fingers for a second— watching the way your cunt clenches around nothing, trying to hold onto digits, fluttering from the emptiness.

after waiting for a little, he slips them back in slowly, dragging them along your soaked walls, watching you flinch and twitch and cry out for him— and that's what ultimately made it worse, because xavier knows, he knows exactly how your body worked, exactly what it needed to cum, and he's purposely giving you just less than enough.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ rafayel + needs to cookwarm you

understandably, rafayel was panting even before he pushed himself into you, yet when he finally did— it's slow, thick, shivering with restriction which didn't last, "oh fuck," his adams apple bobs as he chokes on his spit, his head dropping against your shoulder with his voice hoarse of disbelief, "you're so tight, baby, so warm, you feel—" the man cannot even finish, truly, he can't.

his breath hitches instead, hips jerking deeper as rafayel curses again and again, low and against your neck, like each inch of you that swallowed him was tearing the sanity from his bones. he bottoms out once, twice, fucking into you faster to switch and choose between the perfect rhythm as he finally settles his entire shaft inside you, his body shuddering like he's about to cum then and there.

because the moment he fit his entire length in you, you clench around him furiously— tight and fluttering, pulsing with that needy ache as his mouth drops open with a broken gasp, "don't do that," he begs, barely above a whisper, "don't fucking squeeze like that— I'll fucking lose it," as he leans over you, forearms bracketing your head and forehead pressed to yours, hips twitching in shallow motions because even the smallest shift made you both cry out into each others lips.

"can i stay like this, baby?" he kisses along your jaw, "see how good we fit, how full you are, you're holding onto me like you never want me to leave," and then he thrusts up, fathomless and without restriction before dragging himself out just enough to feel the strong stretch of you, then sliding right back to the hilt— where he then stays, twitching inside with a sound closer to a sob than a moan.

you were so full at this point— achingly so, you could feel every vein of him, every curl and turn, the way his cock throbbed inside you like it's your own heartbeat as your legs shake around his waist from how heavy it made you feel, how close it made you too, fuck, how tight it got when your body flinched from the overwhelming pulses of him inside.

your stomach knots as your breath stutters, drinking in his moans again— helplessly kissing him as he completely took over your body, "can't even think about pulling out—" his hips move again, this time faster, barely pulling himself back, the drag of his cock so intense your back instantly arched from it, sparks flashing behind your eyes.

his hips slam deep, once, twice— and he's gone, voice catching as he releases with brutal force, cock pulsing as he comes inside you, deep, hot, thick, all of it, yeah? so much it spills back out with the next thrust— and still, he doesn't stop.

"again," he pants, "i'm not done, i'm not done, need you to keep me inside, don't let me go, don't let me fucking go—" rafayel kisses you, like he's trying to fuse into you, believing that if he can keep your cunt around his dripping dick long enough, he'll never have to leave.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ sylus + obsessed with your tits

as one might expect, sylus doesn't even get your clothes off properly nor doesn't care if they tear, he's practically panting as he pulls your top down, lips already brushing hot over your chest before he even gets a full look, "fuck, fuck, you're so—" his breath hits your doused skin, his eyes wild and pupils blown, voice slurred like he's drunk on the barest sight of you, "you don't know what you do to me, you don't know how long i've thought about this."

then his mouth hits your tits and it's instantly wet, it's hot, all of it, it's filthy too, the way he latches onto your nipple with a groan so guttural it shakes through your ribs. his tongue rolls along your tits in slow circles as his teeth scrape, and when you arched into his body, twitching from how sensitive you were, he grins, "yeah, like that, that's what i wanna see," as he palms your tits with both hands and squeezes, pushing them together so he can bury his face between them and moan, like he's drowning in them, like he wants to live there forever.

your entire frame was on fire, thighs slick with your arousal, hips grinding into air— because he hasn't even touched you there yet, sylus couldn't find time, not properly, just the drag of his thigh between yours was enough he believed, or just the occasional graze of knuckles when he shifts to kiss the other nipple.

he wants it that way as he glances down once and groans— loudly like it's hurting him to wait, "you're messing up my pants," he smirks, rutting against your leg, leaking against your skin, "just from me sucking your tits like this? look at what a mess you are baby," sylus shoves his hand between your legs, fuck, finally, right? rubbing through your soaked pussy, smearing your slick up to your clit and back down, lazy and greedy all at once, "you want more? you wanna cum just from this?"

but do not mistake him because his mouth stays at your chest the whole time, he's addicted, mouthing one nipple while his fingers sink inside, scissoring your tight hole.

your back arches instantly and you're soaked, even more now and fuck, you're overstimulated from every side, your clit aching from how close you were yet he doesn't stop sucking on your sensitive nipples, doesn't stop grinding against your thigh like a man gone mad.

"you're perfect," he gasps, "you're perfect, let me have you like this, let me watch you come with my mouth on your tits— let me feel you fucking pulse around my fingers while i suck your tits, baby," as he grunts into your skin, "i'll ruin you like this, i'll make it so every time you touch yourself, you'll think about my mouth here— my tongue, my teeth, how fucking hard i came grinding against you."

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ caleb + cannot stop praising you

"you're so good," caleb whispers to you as if he's confessing something protected, his touch weighted with awe, a worship that trembles through his fingers, slithering up your thighs, then moving over to your waist, ultimately cupping your face, "so good, baby, I can't, i can't even—"

the sentence dies on his tongue because, well, he's too busy looking, you know? at you, in fact, at where he's inside you, at the way your lips part and your body arches up every time he shoves his cock inside you greedily.

and you feel everything, caleb made sure of that— the stretch, the slip, the depth, fuck, he's thick, hot, and so careful at first— so slow it's almost cruel, each inch dragging against your walls until your hands hold onto him for dear life, chasing more, chasing him.

caleb says your name through passion— like the pleasure was too good, too deep, so insane it might break him.

he's repeatedly brushing his lips over your cheek as he thrusts just a little harder, a little further so he could stroke over your sweet spot, taking your frame through new spots of awareness, "taking me so well, you're perfect, just perfect," as his voice cracks when you clench down, "you're so fucking good, too good— i'm not strong enough for you, sweetheart, not when you feel like this."

don't be afraid because, well, caleb will stop fucking you so slow and sensually at some point, even your boyfriend had limits and couldn't push back on his pleasure for eternity.

you whimper when he begins to slide against your sweet spot again, this time faster and caleb snaps, a groan ripping out of him, needy and raw as he's suddenly fucking you like he's starved for it— like you're the only thing in the world that made sense to him, his cock hitting so impactful your ability to breathe evenly was questioned, your back remained curved, your thighs shaking with every thick drag.

"you're so warm, so tight around me— fuck, i feel you everywhere," his hands grip your waist harder, pulling you against his pelvis as he thrusts, making it purposefully more extensive, messier too so you'll make those wet, nasty sounds for him, "you're squeezing me, baby, you don't even know what you do to me—"

your skin prickles from how much he worships you whenever you were intimate with each other, how he sounds ruined with gratitude, ruined with your cunt constricting around him ever so tightly, milking him, how he looked down and watches your bodies join like it's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen— your arousal and his cum spreading over your thighs, his cock glistening with every pullout as his breath stutters when he sees it, "you're making such a mess— i love it, i love you like this—"

Leaning on the wall between the crew deck and the business class cabin you watch your subordinates prepare each seat for the incoming passengers, fluffing cushions, cleaning away any excess trash from the previous flight, and ensuring everything is in place.

Caleb and his co-pilot, Gideon (another missing person you knew), are expected to get to the plane at any minute. They're expected to see you again.

Despite the anger, the reminiscing, despite it all, you find your fingers fumbling with jittery nerves. Sharp pangs strike your chest every time you recall his smiles, his eyes, his hands, his touch, the joy you shard with him, and the pain from not hearing from him for years.

You're burning with anger, weeping with the remnants of your pain, and jittery with hope. Hope to restart, or even continue from where you left off.

"Chief," One of your subordinates snap you out of your thoughts. 'Chief' was a title you earned as a joke but your coworkers have made a habit of using it as a term of endearment and respect. What can you say? You do a good job.

"The pilots. They're here." Fuck everything you just told yourself. There's only fear.

You will yourself to walk to the front entrance, watching them ascend the stairs, wind flowing through their blazers like a gentle kiss goodbye from the elements.

You'd recognise him any day. You've studied him to the atom. He's changed.

His hat rests in his hand with a small suitcase. A shaded pair of glasses sits on his face perfectly, protecting his eyes from the cruel blaze of the sun. He's smiling. You hadn't seen that smile in so long.

As he draws closer to you, you force yourself to swallow your nerves and clench and unclench your fists in the hopes of grounding yourself. It's definitely making you notice he's much more muscular. And taller. And more handsome–

His hands remove his glasses as he reaches you and that does it. If not for your need to maintain professionalism you would have burst into tears. Those beautiful sunset eyes are exactly the same. Radiant, shining, and brimming with stories of you and him.

His smile trembles as his eyes dart all over your face, almost like he couldn't believe that you're here. His grip on his hat tightens.

Sharply breathing through your nose, you serenely smile as you would when interacting with passengers. "Welcome to Linkon Air, gentlemen." You step aside to grant them access to the aircraft. "It is a pleasure to work alongside you."

You smooth down your skirt as they walk by giving their thanks. Your eyes dart to the air traffic controllers out of habit, ensuring everything is in order. They have a pattern that you've learned to track since there'd always be a ton of time before prepping for passengers to arrive.

Although it's likely been minutes since you scanned the roadway, you feel a pair of familiar eyes burning right into your back.

The flight (at least for the first few hours) goes relatively smoothly. You got sleep after takeoff, since your previous flight exhausted you. Your team worked diligently, leaving you with light work as you switched shifts for the second half of the flight.

The sun has been setting from what you've seen doing your rounds checking on the passengers in the economy and business cabins. By the time you get back to your deck, the stars begin to speckle the endless horizon.

Carrying your habits from your university days, the first thing you do is make a cup of coffee as strong as it can get over tens of thousands of metres above ground. The cardboard cup in your hand unexpectedly brings back a flood of memories. Memories of your younger days. 

Memories of Caleb.

Tremors build as the aircraft reaches the higher through the clouds as the sky completely darkens, leaving you with the stars and the blinking lights of the wings. Turbulence is about to strike the plane— hopefully there aren’t any screamers on this flight.

You slowly sip your caffeinated paradise considering whether you should wait for the mini turbulence to calm or to ride it out to serve meals to the passengers. Anything to distract you from him for the time being. Just enough to get the job done.

The soft push of the door behind you send your shoulders twitching into tension but you keep your gaze right ahead. Your grip on the counter is tight enough to make your knuckles go pale against your skin.

“You look good as chief.” Your eyes flutter shut, instantly sinking into familiarity and warmth. His voice. His damned voice.

“You look good alive.” Your tone is gruffer than anticipated. You almost feel bad.

You can hear his footsteps get louder as he draws near you. Closer and closer until he’s right behind you, towering over you. “I’m–“

“Sorry?” You huff, chugging down what remains of your coffee. “I would have probably taken that five years ago. Probably. But you've said nothing. Nothing!” Your voice falls into a hushed shriek to avoid catching the attention of the attendants serving the food through the business cabin. 

Caleb’s gloved hand swiftly closes the curtains to separate you both from the cabin, at least in terms of sight. His hand slowly trails down until it’s just a twitch away from your own. “I was assigned to join the Fleet for off-planet missions.” He informs you in a hushed tone, almost too professional and commandeering for your liking. "I didn't have a choice."

“Really now, cadet?” You scoff, almost tempted to roll your eyes just like you used to whenever you didn’t believe the things he’d say. 

“Colonel.”

“That high up in the ranks, huh?” Considering the limit of space you have, you aim to toss the cup into the bin and hit it perfectly inside. “In a span five years too, very realistic.”

“Maybe we should stop dancing around in this pettiness.” You can almost hear the exasperation in his voice. And the smallest sliver of desperation.

“Perhaps you’d find it hard to be familiar with someone you assumed was dead for five years—“ You hiss as you attempt to side step away from him, only for his other hand to slam down on the counter, holding you in place.

A warm draft hits your neck directly from his breath touching your skin for the first time in so, so long. “I didn’t have a choice, pips.”

“I…” Damn him and his warmth for making you start to forget your anger. “I don’t believe you.” 

“How can I get you to believe in me?” He whispers, lips nearing your skin. Hot shivers run straight down your spine. Your head leans towards him out of instinct, so familiar and natural. “Tell you classified information? What the Fleet has been doing outside of public knowledge?”

His hand rests on top of yours, warm to the touch and gentle in grip. “Didn’t you get my letters?” His lips ghost over your ears. You can almost hear the tinge of hurt in his words. “Like the ones we used to send each other back when we were kids?”

Letters? You hadn’t gotten anything. When you visited your grandmother to ask if she received any correspondence she would always say no— oh.

“She got rid of them.” You finish your thought out loud. Even if you looked they’d likely be ashes before you get home.

“Of course.” The plane’s floor rumbles with his brewing agitation. He doesn’t even want to think about what that old woman was doing to prevent the two of you from having contact for all those years. But you’re here with him, and that’s all that matters. He’s more than ready to spend the next five years grovelling for your forgiveness.

“Caleb,” His eyes flutter shut at his name leaving your lips. There’s no anger, no resentment, only that familiar reverence you two used to share. “You sent letters?”

“Every single day.” You feel his head drop into the junction between your shoulders and neck, fitting just right. “Even when I thought I was going to be trapped in Deepspace, I wrote letters in paper, sent transmissions, did everything I thought would reach you. But since she destroyed them all—“

Caleb pauses in his tracks, deeply inhaling your scent through the thick layers of your uniform. Through the perfume foreign to his senses and the familiar smell of fabric softener, there you were. His favourite aroma, the only one keeping him sane (mind you, his only other source was your hoodie and pair of panties which obviously didn’t last him five years worth of sniffing). 

“Doesn’t matter,” He grumbles, voice muffled by your clothes. “You’re here. I’m here. And I’m not gonna disappear on you again. Not if I can do anything about it.”

Trembles strike the plane again before you can respond; this time more violent. Loud cries echo from beyond the curtain separating you and the passengers as the turbulence topples your balance. You both jerk forward, pressed uncomfortably against the counter, holding on for dear life.

“Must’ve been a while since you had air turbulence, huh?” You grin to yourself, feeling how tight his grip on your hand is. His knuckles are practically turning white. “Space didn’t prepare you for that did it?”

Caleb makes no response other that a suppressed choke. “Caleb?”

The aircraft trembles again pushing you closer together, so much so that you can feel something very hard prodding you from behind. Very hard. Familiarly hard.

You hadn't felt it in so long, your body can't help but respond intuitively. You lean into him, arching your back as he's pushed closer to you. It's as if he's constantly orbiting you in an endless gravitational pull.

Neither of you try to pull away. It's all too familiar and you don't want to run away from the very thing you haven't had in years.

His length strains against the confines of his pants, accentuating its girth and the aggressive throbbing on your core. The turbulence brings your hips into a shaky rhythm moving back and forth, grinding on each other and bringing your minds into a complete haze.

"Pips–" Caleb groans into your shoulder in a sore attempt to conceal his noises. The commotion in the passenger cabins rise as your subordinates urge them to remain calm. There is no way any of them would think to come in your direction– hopefully none of them will try.

A moan slips through your lips as his hips grind up against you in that exact delicious way he used to do it back then. Back when you had all the time to yourselves. When you had each other.

Heat pools at your core, turning your legs to jelly. His head is buried in the crook of your neck, subjecting him to your scent that hasn't changed despite the years. Still that enamouring smell that always drove him insane.

You could stay like this forever, in his hold, in this state as dangerous as it may be. For as long as you need to so long as you can live in the knowledge that Caleb will never leave again. You'd do everything to make sure of that.

"Caleb!" Gideon yells through the muffled door of the cockpit, snapping you both out of your trance. "Get back here!"

Caleb sharply inhales before pulling himself away from you, stumbling back with a ramble of apologies.

"I'm sorry, I– I–" He shakes his head and swiftly turned to the cockpit. "Forgive me, I need to attend to my duties."

The door clicks shut, leaving you to stand in the aftershock of your deeds. You don't have the time to ponder and reflect, you need to do your job.

It doesn't take long to calm the passengers down. After handing out snacks, speaking to passengers, and tying the odd few to their seats with their own seatbelts all while trying to ignore the wetness pooling at your core, the turbulence finally calms.

You can't help but feel hot in your uniform. After that, there's no coherent thought apart from Caleb.

Caleb, Caleb, Caleb.

His scent. His touch. The way his lips automatically found your neck but did not kiss your flesh. The way his hips moved with yours– it wasn't just the tremors of the plane, you were both moving together. His cock was so damn hard you thought it would make his pants unzip on its own.

You close your eyes, shuddering at the memory. It's becoming increasingly hard to maintain composure. To stay professional. But you're practically shivering with need.

Every step you take rubs the soaked cotton fabric of your panties against your clit. Every touch on your skin sends hot shivers right down to your core. Merely hearing your colleagues swoon over Caleb makes your walls clench and your gut boil in brewing jealousy.

Such a shame they didn't get to see how he was practically losing himself just moments ago.

The feeling becomes almost unbearable. The need burning deep within you becomes too much to ignore. You have to talk to him. You have to do something.

You close your eyes and straighten your back. There's a few hours left of the flight. Most of your colleagues are sleeping in their cabins. You've completed your shift. Just a few more hours.

Your hand hovers over the door to the cockpit. You just need to knock. Simple as that.

Just as your fist is about to land on the door, it slides open.

"Oh, sorry!" Gideon apologises as he steps out. "Didn't mean to startle you. By the way, do you know where your colleague is? The short, cute one."

You raise your brow in suspicion. "For what reason?"

"Nothing." He quickly responds, shoving his hands into his pockets. From what you can recall, Gideon has always had a habit of hiding his hands whenever he lied.

"Right." You sarcastically nodded. "She's in the back. Alone." You step aside you let him go through the cabin. "Don't make too much noise. Some passengers are still awake."

He simply grinned and scurried off, practically skipping as he moved.

If Gideon isn't in there anymore, that means it's just Caleb. An open opportunity.

You look around you to make sure you're fully alone and without another thought you step inside and swiftly close the door behind you.

"You shouldn't be here." His voice shoots through you like wine engulfing your tastebuds. He's standing behind his chair, hand flipping through papers that you assume are flight directives.

"I have authorisation." You defiantly stand your ground.

"By what grounds?"

"This isn't the Fleet, Caleb." You cross your arms, leaning on the door. The pounding on your chest grows louder and louder the longer his eyes look straight into yours. "Things are different here."

Caleb's eyes flutter shut as he groans. His hands move to cover the growing tent in his pants. "Don't say that."

"Don't say what, Caleb?"

"Don't say my name like that."

You raise a brow in challenge. "Caleb." You step forward. "Caleb." This time you speak in a soft whine. "Caleb." Agression. "Caleb." Need. "Caleb, Caleb, Caleb–"

His hands hold your face and he backs you against the cockpit entrance, breath heavy with a familiar scent. The scent of restricted desire. You used to hate when he held himself back.

"I tried everything, pipsqueak, everything to reach you." Your eyes closed, hands mirroring his own by holding his face and stroking his skin. His freckles are still there. His pores that you used to poke are still there. His eyelashes are still there. The incision scar from his eyebrow piercing he had when you were younger is still there. Everything is still as it was.

"I never wanted to leave," He whispers. "I wanted to stay. I fought to stay."

"I believe you." You stroke his cheeks, staring deep into his eyes. "I forgive you. I..." You hesitate, afraid it's too soon to say. But you have nothing to lose. "I adore you still, desire you still. I want you."

Caleb's hands twitched as he glanced away from your gaze. "It's been years," He whispers, unable to unite his lips with your own. "I don't even know who you've–"

"I haven't." You reach to hold his face, gently stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. "It's always been you. Only you."

Caleb huffs a quiet laugh. "Your hands are still so soft." His fear melts into adoration, soothing his nerves. "So warm."

You lean up, finally pressing your lips on his. It almost feels like the first time. His lips are soft, reminding you of how you teased him into using more lip balm. He must have kept the habit.

His hands wander lower and lower until they reach your waist and the back of your neck, maintaining a gentle grip on you. Gentle becomes needy, and needy becomes intense.

Caleb moans into your mouth as your tongue slips through his lips, tasting him like a delicacy you hadn't had in years (which is true). His hands instantly drip to your ass, palming over your curves as his hips grind against yours to remind you of his needy hard on.

Your clit tingles with desperate need as your tongues move together, not for dominance but in the greatest form of reverence you can possibly muster. Your hand reaches down to his throbbing bulge, almost nervous to feel him once more. His hips jerk to your touch.

"Please, pips," He whimpers against your lips. Your skirt raises above your hips to grant him access to your soaked panties. "I need you."

You waste no time unbuckling his belt, lips still on his, to free his cock from its confines. You almost forgot how big he is. Your hand can barely wrap around him, for one. His sacks feel so heavy in your hands, making you imagine things you wouldn't dare dignify with words. Three veins travel up his length and end before they reach his reddened tip that's leaking drops of warm precum. You thumb his slit, covering your finger in his juices to bring out a string of moans that you've almost forgotten.

"Missed you," Caleb sputters, leaning down to attack your neck with hot kisses. His calloused fingers pull your panties aside to feel your arousal, collecting your juices until it's slick enough to rub your sensitive clit. "Missed this."

Your nails claw at his nape as your grinds turn into dry ruts, unable to coherently think of anything other than satiating your need for each other.

"Caleb," You moan into his ear, tongue slithering around his earlobe as his fingers finally sink into your pussy. "The plane–"

"Autopilot." His voice is slightly muffled from his lips sucking endless marks onto your skin. "Where's Gideon?"

"With a flight attendant," You grin to yourself. "They'll be busy for a while."

His chuckle sends warmth spreading through your body like nostalgic shock before he engulfs you in his embrace again, kissing you deep and hard until all you can think about is him.

His lips are gentle on yours, almost like he can't bring himself to believe that you're here with him. The context doesn't matter. The risk serves no meaning to him. All he wants... is you.

Caleb reluctantly pulls away from your addictive hold to catch his breath. The scent of mint fans your face as he breathes deeply with you. You can't help but lean closer to his lips, desperate to feel him again. And again. And again until you're sick of him.

But you never will be.

"I need you," You mutter using your free hand to free the skin of your neck for him to suckle and mark.

And he responds swiftly, teeth sinking into your flesh unlike all those other times where he'd gently tease and lick you. Now his nibbles have turned into full-on bites, leaving wet trails of his saliva as an additional mark to his ministrations.

"I've missed you so, so much," You choke on your whispers, feeling tears well in your eyes again. "You can't ever leave me like that again."

"I know," Caleb murmured as his lips pressed another loving peck on another lovebite he leaves on your skin. "I'll never leave you again. Never. Not if I can do anything about it."

Your hand rises from his chest to his hair to tug him back. His eyes roll back with a poorly swallowed groan. "Promise me." It's hard to concentrate with how close you two are, how his cock throbs and twitches in your hand, how your bodies respond to each other like clockwork.

"Promise you'll never leave again." You tug his hair harder, hoping it will emphasise your point. "I swear, I'll keep you by my side at all times if I have to–"

Caleb swallows your surprised moan as he latches his lips back onto yours. The last thing he wants you to do is spiral while you're with him. To worry about an impossible event. He will never leave. He'd kill anyone who tries to take him from you. And if he had to show you to prove himself, he'd do it without hesitation.

"I'll never leave you again. Never." He rasps, hips jutting into your hand unable to ignore the pulsating need that makes his cock leak so much. Just for you. "I promise."

Your clothes ruffle and come apart, piece by piece until your shirts are completely unbuttoned, skirt pulled up to the waist and pants pulled down just above the knee. Your nipples are poking out of your bra, hardened and sensitive and needy for his tongue to worship.

"I've missed your taste." His tongue swirls around your pebbles, drawing one into a gentle suckle while his free hand attends to your other nipple to pinch and fondle.

Your eyes flutter shut as your head hits the wall. Oh, how you've missed the feeling of him on you like this. A soft moan flows out of your lips, hips grinding in immediate response to his touch– his love.

Caleb moans into your skin as if he's the one being touched, hands fondling your mounds. His tongue lavers spit all over your cleavage, soaking you completely.

It is inappropriate to be doing this. You should be doing your rotation and checking on passengers. Caleb should be flying the damn plane and not leaving two hundred lives in the hands of autopilot. But you couldn't care less. You wanted him. He wanted you. You needed each other.

And you wouldn't pass it up for the world– aviation laws be damned.

"I've missed how you feel," His lips wander lower as he brings himself to his knees. "How warm you are when you're with me. How you smile in the sun. You tight your pussy is when I'm deep inside you." His fingers, still pumping inside you slowly pull out to your dissatisfaction for him to taste.

"But I think I missed this the most." He closed his eyes, shamelessly moaning at your taste as soon as his fingers land on his tastebuds. "Fuck, pips. You don't know how crazy you make me feel."

He doesn't waste another second to taste you through the slight barrier of your panties– lace and red. Almost like the apples you used to eat together when you were younger. You both moan upon contact, your hands finding home in his hair and his mouth practically drooling.

"Caleb–" You whimper into your hand, worried that you'll make noise. The sun is beginning to rise on the horizon.

His tongue presses flat on your clothed clit, rolling the bundle of nerves around, checking if his old techniques were still valid to use. Your pleasured whimpers turned to soft moans as he eased your nerves with each flick of his tongue.

"You taste so divine." His hand reached down for his aching cock to stroke and tease.

His fingers circle around your entrance slowly and push deep into you in search for your sensitive core. It doesn't take long for the tip of his finger to push just the right spot, bringing your knees to a tremble.

His touch burned your flesh, sent shivers of warmth raging beneath your skin. It is endless, it's infinite, it's perfect.

You moan his name like a broken record, practically shivering with need and desire. You hook one leg over his shoulder, keeping his head in place with both your hands. His moans are muffled deep within your core as he tongues you relentlessly, desperate to give you as much as he can in a short pocket of time.

"Missed your tongue– missed your fucking tongue!" You whine. "Fuck, 'leb, I missed you so much– f-fuck– need you so bad!" Your hips rut up and down his face, lathering his face in your divine juices. You can tell Caleb it relishing in it, from the soft plapping sound coming from his hand working his cock.

"Look at you," You huff with a grin. He glances up with those sunset eyes of his completely glazed over with lust and desire. You brush his sweat-dampened cowlicks away from his forehead to stroke his skin with pure devotion. "Touching yourself for me when you should be flying this plane. Ruining me, devouring me. I want to do the same."

"Mmh," He groans into your pussy and pulls his tongue from you. "Not yet. When we land." He kisses your folds, practically making out with your pussy loud and sloppy. "Wanna take care of you, love you, give you what you've needed all these years."

He presses hot kisses up your body until he reaches your lips once more and slips his tongue right in for you to taste yourself. To relish in what drives him mad.

Your tongues dance a very familiar waltz that turns to a beloved tango, becoming more feverish, more needy, more reckless. His hands guide yours behind your back and turns you to face the door keeping you two separated from everyone outside.

"I want you right now." You both say simultaneously and laugh. For such a moment of debauchery, you would always find ways to laugh together. It's just like it was back then. You're glad, if anything.

Caleb tugs your panties further away from your core being more delicate than you expected. "For someone who used to steal my underwear, I'm surprised you haven't torn this pair."

"I intend on keeping it for myself." He grinned as he pressed another kiss on your neck. "For later use."

His cock rubs up and down and around your dripping pussy, tapping your sensitive clit with his cockhead, bumping it with every thrust as he lathers his length in your juices and his precum. "You're soaked, pips, yet you wrap around me so tightly. Practically squeezing."

"Just for you." You pant against the door. You arch into him, squeezing his girth with your thighs making him moan right into your ear. "Ah, it's all for you."

"And all of this–" He thrusts into your thighs again, securing a tight grip on your waist. "–is for you and you alone, my love."

My love. It is music to your ears.

"My love." He kisses the shell of your ear. "My devotion. My goddess. I vow to serve you. Love you. Protect you. To never leave you alone. I swear it."

He lines his tip with your entrance, shakily inhaling. It's been so damn long. And now you're both here. Finally.

"I'm yours." His cock sweetly slides into you in one swift thrust reducing you both to moaning messes. You fit each other like puzzle pieces designed for each other. You are truly made for each other.

"Fuck." Your hips move in tandem as his cock rocks in and out of you, sweet and slow to savour just how warm you are, how you wrap and squeeze around him so fucking well.

"You feel so good, pips." He whines into your ear, picking up his pace until your slick soaked skin claps loud enough to echo around the cockpit. "Oh my– s-so good. You're so good–"

Your minds become hazy as you lose yourselves in each other, hands scratching, gripping and squeezing what you can reach, his hands on the softness of your ass and your on his to push him as deep as possible. And then even deeper.

"Don't stop." You whine as he pushes his cock deeper and deeper inside until he's completely bottomed out inside you. That delicious squelching noise rings in your ears, driving you into a frenzy of desire and devotion. "Don't ever stop!"

His response is unintelligible, completely reduced to moans and mindless babbles about how perfect you are, how good you feel, everything he wants to do with you right here and now.

“Think about all the people who could be walking past.” Caleb moans into your ear as he pounds his cock into you, dragging his length in and out until your joint slick drips down your legs. “Gideon could walk in at any moment. One of your subordinates could be looking for you. One of the passengers might just hear the wrong thing at the wrong time.”

His hand reaches your neatly secured hair and gently tugs at it, granting himself more access to your exposed neck. He suckles a large bruise right where anyone can see it and sinks his teeth right into you. Your back arches from the pain and your pussy walls flutter from the pleasure, making you come completely undone from the thrill of being caught alone. 

“We both know how much you like the idea of being caught. I like it too.” Caleb muses as he continues to plough you through your orgasm.

“Gets me harder.” His thrusts slow to a cruel yet lewd grind. “Makes me consider risking it all just to feel you squeeze around me. Just to have you milk me dry.” His hand reaching to swirl your clit in circles. Your moans become cries, relentlessly growing louder until he has to stuff his fingers into your mouth.

“We don’t want to get too much attention, pips.” He whines as your walls clench tight enough to snap his cock in half. It just feels so damn good. But the risk is too high. He would rather having you screaming for him while you’re alone than to let a bunch of strangers hear what he’s been missing for years.

He pulls out of your pussy, leaving your walls clenching with need. "Caleb!"

"Hold on," You feel the ground beneath you disappear as he uses his Evol to turn you around and place you back on his cock while facing him.

His finger moves up and down, directing his Evol to bounce you on his cock as he moves to his seat. The pressure from his cock hitting your sensitive spot in a different angle, and the pressure of his Evol tightening deep inside your core renders you speechless with your eyes crossing from the intense pleasure burning through you.

"Have to be careful when sitting you down," He murmurs as he presses his lips on yours. "Can't mess up the controls or we'll end up risking an emergency landing."

He finally sits and releases his Evol on you, sinking you onto his cock once more. You both sigh into each other's lips in another kiss, tasting each other and drowning in each other's adoration.

Your soaked pussy slurps him in like a vacuum with each bounce on his thick, throbbing length, making Caleb absolutely weak beneath you. His hips jerk up, fucking you so hard that rings of cream form around his base.

"Love your cock, 'leb–" You babble, bordering being completely cockdrunk on him. You had long thrown your responsibilities out the window and you're sure he has too. "F-feel so- fuck me– so damn good! I–"

"Love you, pips," He rambles back, tongue slurping the sweat off your skin like it's water. He's definitely drunk on you and your pussy. How could he not be?

"I love you so much– wanna make you f-feel so–" Thrust. "–damn–" Thrust. "good!" The next heavy thrust his cock pounds into your weeping hole shoots hot, thick cum right up your core, spurting globs and globs of his juices until it leaks out of you.

The heat alone makes you bury your head between his neck and shoulder to mask your cry as your walls flutter around him, bringing you to another powerful orgasm.

You both pant, losing your grip on yourselves as you calm down from your joint finish. Your hands travel to each others' faces to bring yourselves into another doting kiss, this time in a warm embrace.

Just as you're about to speak, once the waves of your joint pleasure subside, Caleb gently grips your chin. "Look behind you."

You tiredly turn to feel the warmth of the dawning sun on your skin. It's rising, slowly but it has been long enough to witness your reunion with Caleb. Almost like it blessed the two of you to another chapter in your story. This time, a chapter that won't end.

"I've always told you the summer sun makes your skin glow," Caleb half-moaned half-hummed, kissing the corner of your lips in worship. "Like gold. Like diamonds."

"I've always told you that you make me shine." You smiled, leaning into his touch.

"No," He turns you to face him once more, his lips inching closer to yours to bring you into a kiss. "It's the other way around. You make me shine. You're the star I orbit, pips. Above the skies and on the ground. You are what I wake up every day for."

You'll deal with your jobs later. What matters is that your pilot is here with you. He's home. And he will stay in your orbit, now and forever.

He's so positive and confident that it's near impossible to detect his fixation on you.

There's always something that throws you off his trail, like the time you found your panties tucked under his pillow. When questioned about it, alarm bells go off in his head, but he knows better than to show you his nervousness. He simply gave you a confused smile before asking you if you happened to leave them by accident the last time you stayed over.

"But that's the only explanation, sweetheart. How else would they have gotten there?"

Luckily for him, you believed that. He didn't want to lie to you, yet he had no other choice. You would've called him disgusting and weird if he told you that he keeps the flimsy fabric for his loneliest nights–stroking himself over and over whilst painting the garment with sticky ropes of his spent. He can never have you finding him out before he's ready for you to.

Like that, you're none the wiser, and he's back to assisting you at the grocery store, treating you to lunch, staying awake to chat with you at all times of the night; all while his obsession with you grows. He's going to extreme lengths, now, wanting to you to be a part of him and so badly craving to become a part of you.

It'd baffle you if you knew the things he's done without your knowledge; pissing in your jug of juice just to watch you pour yourself a glass and drink it and occasionally spilling his seed on your toothbrush before lightly rinsing it off. But it leaves him craving more and more. Just watching you consume the essence of him leaves his cock so incredibly hard.

Times like these are the most treacherous for him, so he manages to relieve himself when you're fast asleep.

Kneeling between the thighs of your sleeping form as he slowly strokes himself, he pushes your panties to the side; the soft and kind eyes that you're familiar with are deranged and wide with greed. Those eyes watch you possessively. Such a clueless little thing you are as he runs his thumb between your folds with a gentle touch.

You're so beautiful when you're sleeping–more oblivious to his ministrations than you usually are.

Somehow, you always manage to miss the dark look he gives any man who approaches you. His jaw slightly clenched as the cute smile he offers you becomes taut with anger. There's nothing in the world that pisses him off more than the thought of another man having the gall to even look at you.

"All men are dogs, so you need to stay away from them," he's told you time and time again. "I'm the exception."

He has always tacked on that last part and reinforced it with sweet gestures and kind words, but if you were awake to see the look in his eyes right now, you'd realize that he's not an exception. In fact, he may be considered the worst kind of man.

Without any second thoughts, he kneels between your spread thighs and watches how the calm rise and fall of your chest stutters every touch he gives you, giving firm tugs to his cock as his thoughts dwindles into a perverse ramble of how he'll stretch you out.

The pre that's leaking out is clear and sticky, allowing his hand to work itself languidly along the shaft. A broken purr thunders from him in response, he widens the stance of his knees and angles himself down until his tip kisses your entrance.

Not even a full thump of his heart goes by–he's sheathing himself fully into your wet heat, to the hilt–and it causes you stir. Nerves wrack their way to the very tips of your toes and fingers for a moment, and he stills himself, watching as you settle back into your snoozing, relaxed state.

It's not like he can move right now, though–not with the constricting pull of your walls already trying to milk him for what he's worth. He fights against tapping out, not wanting to waste the opportunity he's made for himself just because the pussy was too good. The struggle brings him down to his elbows, strangling a few syllables out of him in a gruff huff.

"'s f-kin t-tight..."

His garbled words fall on deaf ears, you lying there sound asleep, unaware of what he's saying or doing–unable to wonder where he'd gotten that phrase from, but your cunny is drooling–making a complete mess–and fluttering around his girth, giving it her all to accommodate him. He lets out a breathless chuckle at this; he knew you were meant for him.

"You're perfect for me, sweetheart. So, so perfect."

He wills himself to offer you an experimental roll of his hips, and the action ushers out a melodic of moan from his throat. Then he drops his forehead to your shoulder, groaning when he rolls his hips into you.

He does it again, again, again, until he's fucking you with fervor. All thoughts are lost on him, watching your peaceful face contort and your breasts bounce from the impact of his hips.

The man pounds into you nonstop with no plan to let up, his gravelly moans pitched up a bit higher than normal as he chases his high, lifting your leg to hook around his waist. Hyperfocused on the sounds of your pussy squelching and slap of his hips against yours. He reaches down to grab the back of one of your knees, pushing your leg up to your head.

The angle makes your mumble in your sleep; the tip of his cock punching your cervix in time with his thrusts. Your sensitive walls clasps onto every ridge and vein of his thick shaft. Your pussy has the him in a vice as his cock fucks deep into you. He's close.

"O-Oh, fuck, sweetheart," body hunched over your unconscious one in unison with the stutter of his hips and strained groans slipping from his lips.

Stars begin forming in his vision, popping out of nowhere and disappearing when his eyes roll to the back of his skull. Body flushing in a hot, white heat when his climax crashes into him, spurting sticky webs deep into your womb.

Once his balls are emptied out entirely, he slides himself out and places your panties back to where they were before, satisfied with himself.

And he's even more satisfied when you call him crying a few weeks later, sniffling and stammering after finding out that you're pregnant. His voice is soothing as sympathetic as he tries to calm you down, but he's grinning at the news; grateful to the sleeping pill that he slipped into your drink that day.