I’m the one making noise now, a low, keening whine coming from deep inside me as Ian slides his hands down my back. He cups my ass in his palms and in one effortless motion lifts me up so that he’s carrying me. My arms wrap around his shoulders. My legs wrap around his waist.
He feels good, so good, and I whimper as he spins us so that my back is against the wall. And then I’m arching against him, my body taking over as I press myself against his dick over and over and over again.
The heat grows inside me, and so does the emptiness, until all I can think about is Ian and the feel of him inside me. “Please,” I murmur to him as I trail hot kisses along his jaw, his throat, the sensitive spot behind his ear that makes him growl.
“Please, please, please.” It’s a litany inside me now, a breathless plea falling from my lips over and over again.
And then he’s sliding my legs back down his body until my feet are once again on the floor. He still holds me tightly against him—which is a good thing, considering I’m not sure my trembling knees can support me right now.
But then he’s dropping to his knees in front of me, pulling my zipper down as he goes. “You’re so beautiful,” he mutters as his lips race down the center of my body, over my breastbone and my belly button and then lower, to the very heart of me.
He keeps my jumpsuit mostly on even as he angles us so that the majority of my body is hidden by the powerful width of his—we are still in the back of the galley, after all. And while everyone else is busy, the chance that one of them might walk in here is unlikely but not unheard of.
There’s something sexy about that thought, something forbidden and hot and desperation-inducing, especially when I think about Max being the one to walk in on us.
Or can he see us already?
But then Ian’s fingers are sliding over my mons, pulling down my panties and dancing along the slit of my sex before dipping gently inside.
My whole body lights up then, a strangled scream coming from deep in my core as he thrusts two strong, thick fingers inside me. He fills me up, has me riding his fingers like my life and my sanity depend on it. And then he’s leaning forward, pressing kisses to my abdomen before trailing his lips lower and lower.
His tongue snakes out, strokes a circle over my clit. I lose myself then, my hands clutching at his hair as my body arches and trembles and bucks against him.
Ian just laughs, and his hands come up to hold my hips against the wall as he continues to lick and suck and nuzzle me until all that matters is him and this moment and the inferno burning inside of me.
“Ian, please,” I beg, the ache growing until it’s painful. Until I’m balanced on a precipice of need, teetering on the edge but unable to tip over because he won’t let me. Because he’s determined to keep me there—right there—edging toward ecstasy as long as he can. “I need…I need…”
His breath is hot against my core, his tongue wicked and wild and wonderful as it glides over me. I whimper again—the longer this goes on, the less control I have over my body—and then he’s lifting one of my legs, draping it over his shoulder as his fingers burrow even deeper.
They find a spot that lights me up from the inside, that has every nerve ending on red alert and every other part of me begging for release.
I let out a high, keening cry then, and his free hand comes up to silence me with a finger against my lips. But I’m too far gone to care who hears me, and I bite down hard on his fingertip before sucking his finger deep inside my mouth.
It’s Ian’s turn to groan now, his mouth and fingers growing more insistent, more desperate, more determined.
Another stroke of his tongue against my clit, another twist of his fingers deep inside me, and I’m shooting straight over the edge. Pleasure explodes through me like a supernova, burning me alive from the inside out, racing along my veins and nerves and skin and pouring out of me in waves I can’t hope to contain.
“Ian, Ian, Ian.” My orgasm goes on and on, and his name is a prayer on my lips, a benediction and a cry for mercy all at once.
But Ian’s not backing off and he’s not backing down, because the next thing I know his fingers are replaced with his tongue, licking its way deep inside the very heart of me. And just like that, I’m going over again, one release on top of the other as my body spins completely out of my control.
When it’s over, when I can finally think and feel and breathe again, Ian slides my leg back onto the floor and carefully stands up, one hand on my hip to support me just in case my trembling, wobbly legs have trouble working on their own. And then he’s sliding my panties back into place, pulling up the zipper of my jumpsuit, and making me presentable again.
As long as you don’t count the flush in my cheeks and what I’m sure is the pleasure-glazed look in my eyes.
I reach for him, my hands sliding over his hard, hot dick. A shudder runs through him, and I start to unbuckle his belt, to unfasten his pants so that I can give him the same pleasure that he’s just given me. But Ian stops me with a kiss, his fingers tangling with mine as he pulls my hand away from his body.
“Don’t you want—” I start, but he nips at my lower lip before pulling reluctantly away.
“Later,” he murmurs. “They’ll be coming in for food any minute.”
“Yes, but—” I try again, stroking the hard length of him through his pants.
Ian shudders, thrusts helplessly against my caress. But then he’s pulling away, straightening up the collar of my jumpsuit and his own state of dishevelment.
Just in time, it turns out, because about a minute later, Rain and Merrick come striding into the galley.
Ian and I are both decent—but it’s a close one as Ian washes his hands and dries them before moving to the processor to pull out the casserole. He’s cool and collected, and if anyone was looking at only him, they’d have no idea what just happened here. Me, on the other hand? There’s no mirror in here, so I can’t see myself, but I’m pretty sure it looks like I just got fucked in the galley. And I can’t even bring myself to care.
Especially when Max walks in thirty seconds later. His gaze meets mine across the room, and I can see it in the depths of his eyes—the knowledge and the heat and the interest.
It should embarrass me, but it doesn’t. Instead, it rekindles the fire inside of me, my heart going wild and my nipples going hard. Max notices, and so does Ian—and suddenly the air around us seems charged with an electricity I can’t explain and am not sure I’d want to if I could.
But then Max smiles and breaks eye contact and the moment dissipates like so much vapor.
Beckett and Gage wander in soon after, and then we’re all sitting down for a meal at the table I set. And as the conversation flows back and forth between them all, I can’t help thinking that this is what I want. This perfect moment of laughter and camaraderie and satisfaction—so much satisfaction—all rolled into one. It’s taken us a while to get here, but now that we have, I can’t help wanting it to last forever.
But moments are fleeting. No matter how hard we try to capture them, they disappear as easily as they come. And as Gage and Merrick clear the dishes, I know what I have to do.