“You’re going to touch yourself,” she said. “For exactly five minutes. You will not stop, and you will not cum.”
Eric swallowed hard. A muscle in his jaw twitched. But he nodded. “Yes, Captain.”
The emergency shuttle hummed with the low, ever-present vibration of the life support systems. Its recycled air smelled of metal and stale sweat. Zoe lay on the narrow bunk, arms crossed behind her head, staring at the dull metal gray ceiling. She knew every seam, every rivet. The tiny space had become her entire world for five endless weeks. She exhaled slowly. Three more to go. Three more weeks trapped in this shit. This damn glorified tin can is barely big enough for two people to spend an afternoon in. But there was a silver lining. Five shuttles made it out. Everyone lived.
The crash replayed in her head for the hundredth time. She’d been in command of the freighter for six years, and in all that time, she had never lost a ship. The faulty thrusters should have been replaced months ago. She’d logged the request and flagged it twice, but the company had ignored it. Too expensive. Too inconvenient. And then, when the thrusters failed mid-jump and threw them into a decaying orbit, it was his mistake that sealed their fate. Why did she stick around for the last shuttle? The fucking small one. With HIM. Eric.
Her lips pressed into a hard line. Twenty-one years old, fresh out of the academy, and already the biggest headache of her career. He was competent, she’d give him that. On the other hand, he was too eager to prove himself, too desperate to please. It was irrationally irritating. And now, thanks to his one wrong calculation, they were stuck in this shuttle together. She didn't blame him. But she was still mad at him. Zoe exhaled sharply, rubbing her temples. Close quarters, no privacy, no escape. She was tense, frustrated, and sick of his presence. Sick of his smell and the way it made her middle heat.
She turned her head slightly, looking toward his bunk in the dim glow of the cockpit interface. She couldn’t see him, but she could sense him. He was always there, always in her space. The only time she was truly alone was in the tiny excuse for a restroom. The rest of the crew had gotten out, she had to focus on that, all safely away. She should have taken the third one. Or even the second one. But no. She’d waited. The responsible thing. The Captain’s duty. And Eric, useless, over-eager Eric, had stayed too. Now, they were both stuck. The only micro-sized shuttle on her ship. She closed her eyes and tried to will herself to sleep. Then she heard it.
A soft, shuddering breath. Her brow furrowed. At first, she thought he was having another panic attack. He’d had a few since the crash. He tried to hide them. The silent, shaking moments of guilt and self-recrimination. She had told him over and over that it would be ok. Held him as he worked through it. The thrusters alone would clear him. But then, a quiet gasp. That's new. Zoe stilled. She turned her head fully this time, eyes adjusting to the dim light. And then she saw him. Uncovered.
His shirt was bunched up around his ribs, his uniform pants shoved halfway down his thighs. His hand was wrapped around his cock, moving slowly, deliberately. Zoe’s breath hitched. Fuck. He was masturbating. She had expected it, though she hoped he would do it in the refresher, not here where she could see. She should look away. She should say something. But she didn’t. Because her eyes were caught on him. She had never noticed before how hot he was. Maybe it was the awkwardness of working together, maybe it was the way she’d dismissed him as a kid. But now, with him stretched out like this, exposed and vulnerable, she could see him fully.
And he was big. Thick and long. Her throat went dry. His hand slid up, thumb brushing the head, slick with precum. He shuddered, breathing faster. She should stop this. She should not be watching this. Then he murmured something. It was so soft she didn't catch it. Then he said it again a little more forceful. Her name. Zoe’s stomach dropped. She must have misheard. But no, there it was again. A hushed, desperate whisper. His hips lifted slightly, a plea in his movement. And then, she saw the screen in his other hand. Her.
A photo of her in the shower. Steam curled around bare shoulders, water trailing between her breasts. Her short hair was damp and clinging to her neck. The smallest amount of her pussy is visible. He must have taken it when she wasn't looking. Zoe’s heart slammed against her ribs. A ragged moan slipped from Eric’s lips, his hand moving faster. His entire body tensed, muscles rigid. His face twisted in pleasure, and need. Her own body betrayed her as arousal blossomed in her middle. Making her pussy feel hot and slick. Then he gasped, and shuddered, spilling over his stomach. Zoe was frozen, breath caught in her throat. Heat licked up her spine, sharp and unwelcome. She turned her head away. She forced herself to close her eyes. To ignore the sudden thought to climb into his bunk and ask for a turn with that thing in his pants. She would deal with this in the morning. For now, she lay stiff in her bunk, heart pounding, mind racing. Wishing she was able to rub her clit without making more noise than he just did.
The smell of rehydrated protein filled the cramped shuttle, as unappetizing as the previous forty days. Zoe sat on the edge of her bunk, watching Eric at the small fold-out table. He ate mechanically, eyes down, completely unaware of the storm about to hit him. She had barely slept. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw it. His hand, his body, the way he whispered her name. The way he came apart over the thought of her. A heat curled in her stomach, and she shoved it down, hard. This wasn’t about that. She couldn't let that distract her.
She stood. “Trainee.”
Eric snapped to attention in his seat, nearly knocking his meal tray to the floor. “Yes, Captain?”
She stepped forward, arms crossed, voice even. Controlled. “I saw what you were doing last night.”
His fork clattered against the tray. His entire body went rigid.
“I—” His face flushed deep red, panic flashing in his eyes. “Captain, I—”
“Silence.” She said with a calm authoritative snap. The single word sliced through the air like a blade. Eric’s mouth snapped shut. Zoe held his gaze, waiting for the weight of her command to settle over him. She wasn’t angry. She wasn’t even disgusted. But the fact remained he had taken a photo of her without permission. And that could not stand. “You will delete the photo,” she said coolly. “Immediately.” His jaw clenched, but he nodded, eyes flicking down. “You can use some of our communication bandwidth to download whatever filth you prefer instead.”
His shoulders tensed, hands tightening into fists on the table. But he didn’t argue. Good. She let the silence sit between them for a long, heavy moment. Then, finally, she gave him permission to speak with a curt nod.
“Understood,” he murmured. Then, softer, “I wasn’t trying to disrespect you, Captain.”
Zoe tilted her head. “Then what were you trying to do?”
Eric hesitated. She could see the war in his expression. His shame, nerves, something deeper. Then he took a breath. And confessed.
“It’s not just about attraction.” His voice was quiet but firm. “It’s you, Captain. The way you command. The way you take control. I,” He swallowed, running a hand through his hair. “I want that. To be dominated.”
Zoe studied him. Want that? She let the words settle over her, turning them over. She had been with men before. Good strong men, confident men. She had never considered what it would be like to have one kneel. But now, with Eric staring at her. Waiting for judgment, for permission. Something inside her shifted. Her fingers twitched at her side. Curiosity. Temptation. A hint of desire. She should shut it down. Keep her authority clean and untangled. Instead, she sighed. She would indulge this. Because she was curious and his massive cock kept popping into her thoughts.
“Fine,” she said. “One day.”
Eric blinked. “Captain?”
“One day,” she repeated, voice cool. Sharp. “To get it out of your system.”
His breath hitched. Zoe tilted her head, watching him closely. This was going to be interesting. She stood tall and arms crossed Watching the conflict in Eric’s face. Shock, anticipation, something deeper. Something raw. She had given him permission. And now, she was going to see just how much he truly wanted this.
“Stand at attention,” she ordered.
Eric shot up from his seat so fast he nearly knocked over his tray again. His back straightened, hands clenched at his side, feet planted firm. Academy training kicking in.
“Good,” she murmured, stepping closer. “You will stand there and watch. You will not move, you will not speak. Unless I give you permission.”
His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. Zoe let the silence stretch, making sure he felt the weight of her control. Then, slowly, she reached for the zipper of her flight jacket. The sound was quiet but deliberate, the air in the shuttle thickening with every inch revealed. She shrugged off the jacket, tossing it onto her bunk. Beneath it, she wore only her tight black undershirt. These things were always so thin her red bra stood out under it. She watched his eyes flicker, his fingers twitching slightly behind his back. A small tell. He was already struggling to stay still. Good.
“You need to understand something,” she said, her voice cool, measured. “This is my game. I make the rules.” Eric gave a sharp nod, his gaze locked on her face. He was too disciplined to look lower just yet. Zoe smirked. “If you break my rules, there will be punishment. But more importantly,” she stepped closer, “our game ends.” His breath hitched. “I don’t tolerate disobedience, Eric.”
And then, she lifted her shirt catching the bra with it as she went. Slowly, deliberately, she pulled it over her head and let it drop to the floor. His pupils blew wide. Her bare skin prickled in the cool air, the firm curves of her full breasts exposed to his stare. Her nipples hardened. He was struggling now. His breathing was heavier, his muscles tense with restraint. But he did not move. Zoe allowed a small, satisfied smile before she reached for her jacket. She slid it back on but left it open. Her rank insignia glinted in the dim cockpit light. He wanted her rank and her nudity. She would give him both. The sharp silver lines of authority. And beneath them, her chest was completely exposed.
“Understand this,” she continued her voice like steel. “Right now, I am both your Captain and the woman you fantasize about.” She tilted her head. “You will obey me as both.”
Eric swallowed hard. Her hands moved to the waistband of her pants. The fabric slid down her hips, pooling at her feet. Then her red underwear followed. Bare. Clean. Exposed. Shaved pussy. She stood before him, completely naked except for the open jacket. His jaw tensed, his hands flexing behind his back. He wanted to move. Wanted to reach. But he didn’t. Zoe smirked. Good boy. She didn't exactly know how to be a Dom. But it seemed like a sexual way of being in command. The tingling in her heating pussy told her she could do that.
“Now,” she said smoothly. “You will confirm you understand my rules.” She let the command hang for a long moment. Tension thick between them. Then finally, “You may speak.”
Eric’s lips parted, his voice hoarse, reverent. “Yes, Captain.”
Zoe let the silence stretch between them, savoring the way Eric’s chest rose and fell in quick, shallow breaths. She knew if she let him he would have her on her back and filled with cum in an instant. He was waiting. Waiting for her command. Waiting for permission to look lower than her eyes.
“Tell me,” she said, voice steady. “What do you want to do to me?”
Eric’s throat bobbed, his fingers twitching at his sides. Hesitation. But then he exhaled, eyes dark with restraint, and spoke.
“I want to touch you,” he admitted, voice low, thick. “I want to feel your skin, your breasts in my hands. I want to,” he hesitated, then continued, “put my mouth on you. Lick you. Taste you. I want to pin you down, hear you moan—”
“Denied.”
The word was cold. Sharp as a blade. Eric inhaled sharply, his body jolting as though he had been physically struck. His eyes darted up, searching her face. Zoe only tilted her head, expression calm. Unmoved.
“You think this is about what you want?” she asked.
Eric’s lips pressed together, shoulders tensing. But he shook his head. “No, Captain.”
“Good.” She took a step closer. “Drop your pants.”
His breath hitched. But he obeyed. With steady fingers, he undid his belt, his uniform pants sliding down his hips to pool around his knees. His erection was already hard. Wanting.
“Now kneel.”
Eric sank to his knees without hesitation, hands clenched into fists at his sides. Zoe squatted to his level, their eyes meeting. She could see the strain in his muscles, the barely contained hunger. She smiled. Slow. Knowing.
"You may look at my body until I order you to stop."
His eyes traveled over every inch of her. Her delicate neck curved to her large breasts. Lingering on her hard nipples before dropping lower to her pussy. The area around it was turning pink with her own arousal. The way she squatted had spread her pussy lips open. He looked like he wanted nothing more than to bury his twitching cock deep in it.
“You’re going to touch yourself,” she said. “For exactly five minutes. You will not stop, and you will not cum.”
Eric swallowed hard. A muscle in his jaw twitched. But he nodded. “Yes, Captain.”
Zoe stood, turning away from him, walking toward her bunk. Taking extra care to swing her hips as she went. She knew how men loved to watch a woman walk. Especially naked. She didn’t have to look back to know he was watching her every step. Hungerly staring at her cheeks. She sat at the end of his bunk, legs spreading just enough for him to see exactly what was denied to him. Her choice of his bunk over hers was another power play. In his space and naked, untouchable.
“Begin.”
Eric obeyed. Kneeling before her, his breath ragged. He had his fist wrapped tight around his erection, and he stroked himself in slow, controlled movements. Trying not to go as fast as he had the previous night. Zoe watched from her bunk, legs spread wider, enough to let him see. She wasn’t immune to this. The heat pooled between her thighs, the slick pulse of need. So she indulged herself. Casually. Her fingers brushed against her clit, a lazy, teasing circle. Not enough to bring herself anywhere close, just enough to feel something. This moment was hers as much as his. The feel of something on her clit made her moan softly. Easing her own tension as she forced him to build his. She used her free hand to hold her pussy wide open. Showing him the love tunnel he wanted so badly.
Eric’s eyes locked onto the movement. His rhythm stuttered. She smirked. Good. Time passed slowly. She watched him carefully. The way his muscles tensed, the desperate little twitches in his thighs as he fought not to move faster. She smirked as the building pressure in her body broke into a small orgasm. She moaned and breathed heavily as his face betrayed how close he was. Trying to avoid the orgasm she let herself have. The moment five minutes hit, she gave her next command.
“Stop.” She said sharply, still letting her fingers play over her clit.
Eric froze. His hand clenched, fighting every instinct to keep going. His whole body was trembling with need. He had a small bead of precum at the tip of his cock. Zoe stood.
“Get up.”
He obeyed, his erection still straining, flushed, and needy. She circled him slowly, arms crossed, considering. Testing his discipline. The scent of her wet pussy was filling the shuttle now. She enjoyed it, but it was clearly driving him insane with need.
“You did well,” she said, pausing in front of him. “So I will allow you something in return.”
His eyes snapped to hers, hopeful. She reached for his hands, took them, and placed them firmly on her bare breasts.
“You have thirty seconds.”
The moment his fingers closed around her, a deep, shuddering breath escaped him. He touched with reverence, with hunger. Thumbing her nipples, testing the weight of her. Zoe let him. Allowed. She loved the feel of his fingers, knowing they had just been jerking him while he watched as she played with her pussy. And then she stepped back.
“Enough.”
Eric’s hands dropped instantly, jaw tight with restraint. She casually reached down and collected the drop of precum on her finger. The action nearly sent him over the edge. She licked it and turned away from him. Eric clenched his jaw, his need written plainly in the tension of his body. Zoe only smirked and moved to the table, grabbing her food pack. She sat, legs still open, still teasing.
“Finish your meal.”
Eric hesitated. Then, with clear reluctance, he turned toward the table. He sat. He was still completely naked from the waist down, his arousal still obvious, still demanding. And Zoe?
She remained as she was. Bare beneath her open jacket, her rank insignia gleaming, her body fully exposed to him. She ate slowly, deliberately, watching him through hooded eyes. Eric, however, had a harder time focusing. His gaze kept drifting down to the swell of her breasts, the subtle shift of her legs, the soft glisten of arousal at her core. Zoe noticed. And she felt it too. There was a steady pulse between her legs now, a heat coiling in her stomach, stronger than before. She liked this. Liked the control, the tension, the way he struggled. She may have discovered a fun new kink. When they finished eating, Zoe set her tray aside and stood.
“Trainee, on your feet.”
Eric stood immediately. His erection was still hard, flushed, and aching. She let the silence stretch, let him feel the weight of her gaze.
Then, stepping forward, she said simply, “You are not permitted to cum yet.”
His breath caught. Zoe smiled. Reaching out, she let her fingers drift over his shaft, barely touching. Eric tensed. She teased, tracing slow, feather-light touches, mapping his cock with patience. Then she found it. That one spot, just beneath the tip. The spot where his body jerked at the faintest pressure. The same spot her ex had loved. She pressed one finger there. Began rubbing slow, taunting circles. Eric shuddered. His fists clenched. His whole body fought not to thrust forward, not to break. Zoe watched him struggle. And she relished it. Zoe watched him tremble under her touch. His entire body was tense, strung tight, barely holding together. His cock was pointed right at her.
She took a moment to remove his flight jacket and shirt. She wanted to feel that tension. To make it stronger. She moved behind him, letting her body press flush against his back. Eric sucked in a sharp breath as her body pressed fully against his. Her breasts were against his shoulder blades. His ass nestled against her belly. He was warm, his skin hot with need, and she could feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest. His muscles were taut, his body working so hard to remain still, to obey. She let her hands roam over his torso first. Slow, calculated movements. Then she slid one arm across his chest, holding him in place, while the other dipped down, fingers tracing back around his cock. He was taller than her so she rested her forehead on his shoulder. He let out a strangled sound the moment she resumed those slow, torturous circles. Zoe’s lips curved. She could feel the power in this. The control.
She took one of his hands and placed it over her stomach just close enough to her pussy that he could feel the softer skin there. Her grip on his wrist denied the chance to move closer. He was hers in this moment, completely. Every shudder, every twitch, every labored breath, she was the cause of it. She barely had to do anything. Just the right touch, one finger, the right pressure, and he was unraveling. Eric was shaking now. His whole body quivered against her, his weight starting to press back into her as his legs threatened to give out. Zoe leaned in, her breath warm against his ear.
“Do you want to cum?” she asked, her voice steady, quiet, yet firm.
“Yes,” he gasped immediately. “Yes, Captain.”
She said nothing. She kept touching him, kept torturing him, but she denied him the final push. She knew he only lasted through sheer force of will and that was about to fail. He groaned, the sound raw, needy, desperate. Zoe felt the full-body tremble, the growing tension, the way he was barely standing. She let it go on for another full minute, drawing out his suffering. She let his hand go lower. Until he was nearly touching her clit. Then, when he was right on the edge of breaking, she tightened her grip fully around his cock and commanded.
“Cum.”
It was instant. Eric’s whole body jerked violently. A sharp, choked cry tore from his throat as the climax ripped through him, his knees nearly buckling. His release spilled over her hand, hot and thick, his muscles twitching helplessly as wave after wave hit him. He surprised her with the amount. She may have pushed him too hard. He collapsed back into her, body trembling, panting hard, completely spent. Not even trying to get to her pussy now that both of her hands held him up. Her arms were firm around his torso, feeling the aftershocks still racking his frame. His weight against her was heavy, raw, and vulnerable.
And Zoe? She felt powerful. She had reduced him to this. A wrecked, trembling mess, completely undone by her finger alone. It sent a thrill down her spine, her own pulse pounding between her legs. She brought her hand up, wiping his release off on his stomach, before pressing her lips to his ear once more.
“Good boy.”
Zoe stepped back, letting Eric catch his breath. He was shaky, flushed, and barely standing. She gave him a moment, then issued her next command.
“Shower. Now.”
Eric nodded quickly, still dazed, and made his way toward the small refresher unit. The door slid shut behind him, and within seconds, she heard the water start. Zoe exhaled, rolling her shoulders. Her body still hummed from the power she’d just wielded over him, but for now, she pushed it aside. There were things to take care of. She sat at the console and pulled up the crew management system. Protocol dictated that any romantic or sexual entanglements between crew members be formally documented. Even though this was hardly a standard situation, rules were rules. She tried not to think about how she spent the last few minutes breaking them.
She filed a Romance Request Form, a simple but necessary declaration that she and Eric were engaging in a personal relationship. Under normal conditions, these things were reviewed slowly, with bureaucratic caution. This time, the response was immediate. The first message was informal, likely from someone who understood the situation.
Request acknowledged. Given the nature of your current isolation, the standard review process will be deferred until your return. Consider this an initial approval, pending formal review. Try to find ways to help each other relax. That was easy. She wondered if there were any raised eyebrows since she was 23 years older than he was. But before she could close the console, a second message appeared. She opened it. It was the finalized crash report.
Zoe leaned forward, scanning the details. The conclusion was clear: Eric was not at fault. His inexperience played a role, but ultimately, the failure had been mechanical. A more seasoned pilot may have been able to compensate. But his reaction, though flawed, was within expectations for a trainee with his limited hours.
They wanted her recommendation on his future placement. Zoe stared at the report for a long moment. She wondered if they would trust her thoughts given that she just sent in paperwork telling them she was fucking him. If she were being objective, she knew the truth: his instincts weren’t bad, but they weren’t pilot material. A good pilot needed to make split-second decisions under pressure, to see the problem before it killed them. Eric hadn’t had that. His hesitation had cost them. She had ordered him not to touch anything. Not until she had flipped the ship to compensate for the misfiring thrusters. And because of him, she hadn’t. He had tried to pull up. Instead, he killed all their momentum and put them on a collision trajectory with that asteroid. She flexed her fingers, pushing the frustration aside. It wasn’t fair to blame him for a role he’d never been fully prepared for. She tapped the console and began to type.
"While a more experienced pilot may have saved the ship, and Eric’s actions prevented me from doing so, his inexperience was not his fault. He is a promising recruit, though perhaps not suited for the pilot’s seat. His aptitude in other areas should be considered for future placement. He is exceedingly obedient and does his best to complete tasks given. Perhaps astrometrics or communications. At this time I would not rule out the possibility of leadership but he has much to prove there.”
She hit send. A moment later, the shower shut off. Zoe leaned back in her chair, exhaling slowly. It was done. She knew he wanted to fly. She had to be objective. He was no pilot. But he really was good in those other areas. Though maybe too eager to please for leadership. Time will tell. The refresher door hissed open, releasing a wave of warm steam as Eric stepped out. A towel hung low on his hips, damp hair curling slightly at the edges. Droplets clung to his skin, trailing down his chest before disappearing beneath the fabric. He caught her gaze for a split second before lowering his eyes, waiting for instruction. Zoe took him in with one sharp glance before returning her focus to the console.
“Sit,” she ordered. Eric obeyed without hesitation, lowering himself into the chair across from her. She wasted no time. “I filed a Romance Request Form,” she said. “It’s been acknowledged and given temporary approval. A full review will happen when we return.” His lips parted slightly as if the formality of it surprised him. He gave a small nod, processing it. Then she moved on. “The crash report came in.” His posture tensed. She met his gaze head-on. “You’re not at fault. The thruster failure was the primary cause. Given your lack of experience, your response was within expected parameters.”
A slow breath escaped him, relief washing over his features. But she wasn’t done. “They asked for my recommendation regarding your future in the company.” Eric froze. His fingers curled slightly against his thighs, his body bracing for impact. Zoe leaned back, crossing her arms. “I told them that a more experienced pilot may have saved the ship, and you didn't have the training for it. That said,” she paused, measuring her words, “you don’t belong in the pilot’s seat.”
There it was. His relief soured into quiet disappointment. His jaw tightened, his shoulders squared like he was trying to keep his breathing steady. He didn’t argue. Didn’t protest. But the weight of it settled in his expression. She let it sit for a moment before continuing. “I recommended you for Astrometrics and Communications,” she said. “Your instincts there are sharp, and with time, you could be an asset.” Eric’s gaze flicked back up to her, uncertainty creeping into his expression. “I also suggested you be considered for a leadership role, eventually. After some self-improvement and experience.” His lips parted slightly like he wasn’t sure he’d heard her right. “I see potential in you,” she continued. “Not as a pilot. But you might be something else if you’re willing to put in the work.”
Silence stretched between them. Then, slowly, his hands unclenched. He swallowed once, his throat bobbing.
“…Thank you, Captain.”
It was genuine, but there was something else beneath it. A shift. The tension in his shoulders didn’t completely ease. There was still something hungry in the way he looked at her. Zoe tilted her head slightly, studying him.
“Do you still want to continue our game?”
His breath hitched. A shudder ran through him, barely noticeable but there. His fingers twitched slightly against his thighs. His pupils dilated. And then a whisper, hoarse and desperate:
“Yes, Captain.”
Zoe let the silence settle, watching the way Eric’s body tensed in anticipation. Then, calmly, she gave her next order. “Stand.” He obeyed instantly, rising from his chair with careful control. “Drop the towel.”
There was no hesitation. The fabric fell to the floor, pooling at his feet, leaving him completely exposed before her. Zoe’s expression remained neutral, but her eyes flicked over him, taking in his lean muscle, the way his body reacted to being commanded, the slight tremor in his fingers. She stood, stepping around him. Deliberately touching his tip and pressing a button on the side of the console. The fold-out table retracted into the wall, clearing the center of the small shuttle. Then she turned back to him, meeting his gaze.
“Come here.” He stepped forward, his movements precise, his breathing steady but measured. She placed a hand on his chest, feeling the slow rise and fall of his breath. “I want you to be honest with me,” she said, voice quieter now. “How do you feel about the report?”
Eric exhaled, his shoulders shifting slightly.
“I wanted to be a pilot,” he admitted. “That was the goal. It’s hard to hear that I don’t belong in the cockpit.” Zoe nodded once, waiting. “But…” he continued, “I’m grateful you didn’t push me out completely. You could have. And you didn’t.” His eyes softened, some of the tension bleeding out of his posture. “I do like Astrometrics,” he said. “I didn't think you noticed. Whenever I worked in navigation, I enjoyed it. I think I’d like to try it.”
Zoe studied him carefully, searching for any hint of resentment or doubt. She found only sincerity. Still, something in her hesitated. Something deeper. Something she rarely voiced. “…Are you okay with this?” she asked, her voice quieter than before.
His brows furrowed slightly. “With what?”
“This.” She gestured slightly between them. “With me. You’re young, Eric. Very young. I’m more than twice your age. Even with modern treatments, I won’t look like this forever.”
It was as close to insecurity as she’d ever let slip. Her voice was steady, her posture still composed, but her fingers curled slightly where they rested against his chest. Eric blinked as if the idea had never even occurred to him. Then, slowly, he smiled. Not his usual, eager-to-please smile. Something real. Something soft and warm. Something that made her heart melt.
“Captain…” He let out a short breath, shaking his head slightly. “I don’t care.” She arched a brow, unconvinced. He stepped closer. Almost touching. “I mean it,” he said, voice low, reverent. “I don’t care that you’re older. If anything…” His breathing hitched, eyes darkening slightly. “It makes me want you more.” Zoe felt a slow heat curl in her stomach. Eric swallowed once, his jaw tightening for a moment before he continued. “I was a little in love with you from the moment we met,” he confessed. “You walked onto the bridge, took command like you belonged there, and I—I couldn’t look away.” She stared at him. He held her gaze, steady and unflinching. “I don’t know where this is going,” he admitted, voice quieter now. “But I want to find out.”
Zoe let the words hang between them, letting them sink in. Then, finally, she reached up, fingers brushing lightly against his jaw. Her voice was steady when she spoke again, but this time, there was something softer beneath it. A hint at what might be. “…We’ll see.” Zoe sat down, her movements deliberate, taking her place at the edge of the small fold-out chair. She spread her legs apart, tilting her hips forward in an unmistakable invitation. Her voice was steady. Commanding.
“Kneel.” Eric dropped to his knees without hesitation, his eyes locked on her. His breath was uneven, his excitement evident, but she wasn’t interested in his reactions right now. “Put that enthusiasm to use,” she ordered. “Make me come with your mouth.” A slight flush crept up his neck, but he nodded and moved closer. His hands hovered for a moment, uncertain. She narrowed her eyes. “No hands.”
His breath hitched. “Yes, Captain.”
Zoe felt a spark of satisfaction at how easily he followed her words. That submission, that absolute willingness to obey. It fed something in her. Then his mouth was on her. At first, it wasn’t bad. His tongue was warm, tentative, dragging up her slit before circling her clit. She let her head tip back slightly, breathing out through her nose. Alright. Not the worst start. He licked again, a little more confident, his tongue pressing slightly firmer against her. She exhaled slowly, feeling the first stirrings of real pleasure start to build. But then he changed it. The second she started to feel something truly good, he switched movements. Slower, lighter, less focused.
She clenched her jaw. Damn it. She could feel his eagerness, his desperate attempt to do well, but it was clear he had no idea what he was doing. When he found a spot that made her body react, he only stayed there for a few moments before moving on, as if he was trying to impress her with variety instead of actually making her feel good. It was irritating. Unbelievably irritating. Every time she felt herself starting to climb toward release, he pulled back or adjusted. His tongue flicked too fast, then too slow, then to the wrong spot entirely. Zoe’s fingers twitched against her thighs. She considered grabbing the back of his head and forcing him to stay where she wanted. Instead, she took a sharp breath and clenched her teeth.
“Stop.” Eric froze instantly, his lips still slick against her. “Back up.”
He pulled away, his expression uncertain, almost worried. He swallowed, glancing up at her.
“Did I… do something wrong?” he asked.
Zoe forced herself to keep her expression unreadable. Her body was frustratingly tense, still thrumming with unfulfilled arousal. She clenched her fingers against her thighs, trying to will away the ache of needing more. What the hell is wrong with me? She’d gone without sex plenty of times. Hell, she’d gone without decent sex even more often. But this… This was different. It wasn’t just frustration. It wasn’t just irritation. It was him. The moment she felt herself getting close, she’d wanted him to push her over the edge. Not just because she wanted to finish. But because it was him doing it. That realization unsettled her. She wasn’t supposed to be getting attached. This was supposed to be a game. A way to control the situation. To keep him at arm’s length. And yet—
She exhaled through her nose, schooling her features into a neutral mask. “You lack focus,” she said simply. “ and you need to be trained. That was unimpressive.”
Eric’s shoulders tensed slightly, his jaw tightening. Yet he had a sparkle in his gaze that told her he wanted that training.
“I—” He hesitated, then swallowed, nodding. “Yes, Captain.”
Zoe studied him for a moment, then stood.
“We’ll revisit this later,” she said, voice clipped. “Stand up.” She turned away before she could see the look in his eyes. Before she could acknowledge the confusing, tangled emotions twisting too deep in her chest. Was she falling for this guy? Her sister's son was 20. She was old enough to be his mom. She couldn't be falling for him. “Follow me,” Zoe commanded, turning sharply toward his bunk. She heard him fall in step immediately, his obedience smooth and practiced despite the raw edge of arousal still burning in him. The moment she reached his bed, she turned, fixing him with a steady gaze. “Lay down. Face up.”
Eric obeyed without hesitation, moving onto the thin mattress. His bare skin looked flushed, and tight with tension, his body still reeling from what she’d done to him before. He was half-hard already, his breath uneven as he watched her. Zoe didn’t say anything as she lowered herself onto the edge of his bed, between his legs. She looked at him for a long moment, deliberately making him wait. Then, she leaned down. The first drag of her tongue along his soft skin sent a shudder through him, his fingers gripping at the blanket beneath him. She felt the moment his body responded. The slow stiffening, the way he twitched under her attention.
She let herself enjoy it. The way he yielded to her so effortlessly. The way he let her take what she wanted.
It had been a long time since she’d had this. And, if she was honest, it had never felt quite like this before. His breath hitched as she took him further into her mouth, her tongue sliding along the underside of his length, teasing. She could tell how desperately he wanted to move, how much he wanted to tangle his fingers in her hair or thrust up into her throat. But he didn’t. Because she hadn’t told him he could. Good.
When she was satisfied, she pulled back, wiping the corner of her mouth with her thumb as she crawled up onto him. He was fully hard now, his need tangible, thick, waiting. Zoe straddled him, placing one hand flat against his chest. She could feel his heartbeat pounding beneath her palm. She rolled her hips, just once, teasing them both, feeling the slick heat between her legs press against his length. His eyes nearly rolled back as she rubbed her pussy along his cock. She leaned in, her mouth just over his.
“You will not come until I do,” she whispered.
“Yes, Captain,” he breathed.
She didn’t wait. She sifted forward and kissed him, with passion and need. Then she rocked her hips back. Taking him in one slow, steady motion. She let out a sharp exhale, feeling the stretch of him inside her. The thickness, the heat. He groaned beneath her, his fingers twitching where they rested on the bed. Zoe set the pace. Slow, deep movements, rolling her hips in a way that let her feel every inch of him. The kind of movement she always craved. The kind of movement her men never lasted long with. It was intoxicating. His obedience. His restraint. The way he just laid there and took it, letting her set every rule. He hadn't even let himself put his hands on her. He was making her lose control. She felt herself unraveling, layer by layer. Her hands pressed harder against his chest as she rode him, her thighs trembling, pleasure curling through her like a tightening coil. It was building. Higher. Tighter. Too much.
She arched her back as the orgasm hit her, tearing through her with shocking intensity. Her nails dug into his skin as she trembled around him, gasping, shuddering against him. Fuck that was fast. Her body slumped forward, her forehead resting against his shoulder as the aftershocks ran through her. She could feel him still straining beneath her, still desperately holding himself back. For her.
Her fingers loosened against his chest. She exhaled against his skin, something inside her cracking open. She wanted this. She wanted him. The realization sent a wave of raw vulnerability through her, something unfamiliar and dangerous. But she couldn’t fight it. Still catching her breath, she shifted her weight against him, pressing her body to his.
“You can finish now,” she murmured.
The words barely left her lips before he obeyed. He gripped her hips. He thrust up into her, slow but deliberate, his whole body trembling. She could feel it. She loved the way he held onto her like she was something precious, something he wasn’t willing to let go of. His release was deep, drawn out, and consuming. It felt like lava and caused her to moan into his shoulder. Small jolts of orgasm teased her pussy into milking him dry. And with every slow, shuddering movement, Zoe knew. She was falling for him. Zoe exhaled deeply as she rolled off of him, her body still thrumming with the aftershocks of her climax, her skin damp with sweat. She barely made it a few inches before she stopped, unable to put distance between them. Instead, she curled up close, pressing her naked body against his side, draping a leg over his. His cock was still pulsing against her thigh as it softened.
“Hold me,” she murmured, voice softer than she intended.
Eric obeyed instantly, his strong arms wrapping around her, pulling her flush against him. His warmth was everywhere. Against her breasts, her belly, seeping into her skin, sinking into something deeper than flesh. She could still feel his cum inside her. Even now, after he had given her everything after she had taken everything from him. She shifted slightly, and a slow warmth spilled from her, trickling between her thighs. She sighed at the sensation. At the undeniable proof of what they had just done. She’d denied herself this kind of pleasure, this kind of intimacy, for so long. But now that she had it, she didn’t want to let it go.
Her fingers traced small, idle patterns on his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath. This moment. This closeness. She had never wanted it before. Not like this. Normally after she orgasmed she simply got up and left. This time she wouldn't leave. Her lips brushed against his shoulder, then his jaw, then his lips. A slow, deliberate kiss. Not an order. Not a command. Just… her. He sighed into her mouth, one of his hands sliding up her back, fingers trailing through her hair. But before the tenderness could deepen, she pulled back just slightly, resting her forehead against his. She had to keep her control. He wanted it. But she wanted this. They could both have what they want.
“This,” she whispered, voice low, intimate in the quiet of the shuttle. “This is only for after. Never during.”
“I understand,” he said softly.
She tilted her chin, studying him in the dim light. His expression was relaxed, but there was something deeper there. Something unguarded.
“I think…” He hesitated for only a breath before continuing. “I think I could love you forever.”
Zoe laughed. A real, genuine giggle, light and unburdened, a sound she hadn’t made in years. For a moment, it almost shocked her, how young she felt, how utterly ridiculous it was that she felt the same.
“Yeah,” she admitted, her smile pressing into his skin. “Me too.”
Eric pulled her closer, tucking her against him, and she let herself relax, her body molding to his, fitting against him in a way that felt so incredibly right. For the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel alone. As her eyes drifted shut, she realized something. She was falling in love. And for once, she was completely, absolutely okay with that.