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Something flickers across his face, gone before I can decide to act on it and replaced by proud heat.
“What about this?” He presses his fingertip inside that tight, tight spot.
“What about it?” I keep my tone exceptionally casual. “Do you think I’m scared?”
He lets out a low rumble of a laugh. “No.”
“Do you think I’ll like it? Is that why you’re doing it?”
“I think you don’t know until you try,” he offers, and pushes his finger in a little deeper.
My heart pounds like it’s trying to raise the alarm. This is the time we have. On this plane. Before we land. So if there’s anything I want to try with Apollo, it has to be now.
So I tilt my hips into it, putting more pressure against his finger, and it’s slick enough to slide in.
It feels…bigger. Than I thought it would. I suck in a breath and let it out. Apollo studies my face, draws his finger out, and pushes back in.
“That’s…” Now I sound breathless. Surprised. “This is dirty.”
Apollo shakes his head. “You’re perfect.”
It feels filthily intimate, especially when his finger goes deeper and I clench down on it without thinking.
“Mmm.” Apollo bends to kiss my cheek and reaches with his thumb, getting the pad on my clit and rubbing until I relax. “Do you think you could come like this?”
“I—” He’s fucking me with his finger while his thumb traces circle after circle. “I think you could make me.”
“I think I could, too.”
He keeps his face close to mine, whispering nonsense into my ear while he brings me up to that peak again, slower this time, much softer, because he’s turned me inside out. He’s made me come so many times that everything tingles.
And Apollo makes me do it again, clenching hard on his finger, keening into his mouth. Keening. Like what I want is actually an escalation of this moment, though my body probably won’t stand up to much more.
It’s the filthiest thing anyone’s ever done to me.
Apollo guides my leg back to the bed.
“What now?” I pant, which makes him laugh.
“A shower,” he says firmly.
“Both of us can’t fit in there at the same time.”
“That,” he says, narrowing his eyes at me, “is a mindset issue.”
“Oh my God. You would make a dad joke at a time like this.”
Apollo wrinkles his nose. “Let’s not think about anyone’s dad. Let’s get in the shower.”
He’s right. It was a mindset issue. The plane bathroom is as luxurious as plane bathrooms get, but fitting two people into the shower takes coordination and commitment. We stand very close, Apollo hissing when his cock brushes against my skin.
“Sensitive?” I ask, and let soap drip onto him.
“Very,” he says, sounding strained, but he lets me wash him off anyway.
He washes his hair, and then mine, and takes his time gliding his hands over every part of me.
When we’re clean, Apollo helps me out of the shower. It’s easier to dry off in the bedroom, where there’s room to maneuver towels. He slings one around his waist, and I just watch, caught up in the sight, as he moves back to the bed.
