Xaden shoved Violet against the stone wall of his private quarters, the door slamming shut behind them. "Strip. Now," he growled, voice low and rough like gravel under boots. His eyes burned with that shadow-wielding intensity, already unbuckling his leathers.
Violet's hands shook but she obeyed fast, yanking off her flight jacket and tunic. Her breasts spilled free, nipples tight from the cold air and hotter anticipation. Xaden didn't wait. He grabbed her, spun her around, and bent her over the wooden table. "Ass up.
Legs spread." His palm cracked across her cheek, the sting blooming into heat that shot straight to her cunt.
He dropped to his knees behind her and buried his face between her thighs without warning. Tongue flat and demanding, he licked from her clit up to her asshole, growling against her skin. "Fucking soaked already. You get this wet thinking about my cock while we're in formation?" Violet moaned, pushing back against his mouth. He sucked her clit hard, two fingers thrusting deep into her pussy without mercy, curling to hit that spot that made her knees buckle.
"Xaden—fuck—yes." She gripped the table edge. He pumped his fingers faster, tongue flicking relentlessly until her thighs trembled and she came with a sharp cry, juices coating his chin. He stood, wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, and freed his cock—thick, veined, already leaking. He dragged the head through her slick folds, teasing her entrance.
"Beg for it," he ordered, smacking her ass again. "Tell me you want the wingleader's dick stretching this tight little hole."
"Please," Violet panted. "Fuck me. Shove it in. I need it deep."
Xaden slammed forward in one brutal thrust, burying himself to the hilt. Violet gasped at the stretch, walls clenching around his girth. He didn't give her time to adjust. He fucked her hard, hips snapping, balls slapping against her. One hand fisted her hair, yanking her head back while the other reached around to rub her clit in rough circles.
"Take it," he snarled. "This pussy's mine. Every flight, every sparring match, you're thinking about me ruining you like this." Violet pushed back, meeting every thrust, the wet sounds of skin on skin filling the room. Her second orgasm built fast, crashing over her when he pinched her clit and drove in harder.
Xaden pulled out, flipped her onto her back on the table, and hooked her legs over his shoulders. He drove back in, deeper at this angle, pounding her cervix with every stroke. Sweat slicked their bodies. He leaned down, biting her nipple, sucking hard enough to leave marks. "Come again. Squeeze my cock while you do it."
She did, screaming his name, pussy fluttering and gushing around him. Xaden followed with a guttural groan, burying himself and flooding her with hot pulses of cum. He stayed inside, grinding slow as they caught their breath.
Later, he pulled her to the bed, still hard, and took her again—on her knees this time, fucking her mouth until tears streaked her face, then flipping her to ride him while he gripped her hips and thrust up. "That's it. Use that cunt. Make yourself come on me again."
By the time they collapsed, bodies spent and marked, the first light of dawn crept through the shutters. Xaden pulled her close, voice softer but still edged with possession. "Tomorrow we do it again. Harder." Violet smiled against his chest, already aching for it.
