"Jinx. Jinx, I'm gonna—I can't hold it—"
I pull back just enough to speak, my lips brushing the head of his cock. "Then don't. Come in my mouth. I want to taste you."
I take him deep again, and he shatters.
His cock pulses against my tongue, flooding my mouth with hot, bitter cum. I swallow everything he gives me, sucking him through it, milking every last drop. His thighs shake. His hands tremble in my hair. The sounds coming out of him are broken, wrecked, beautiful.
When he finally stops coming, I pull off and look up at him. His face is flushed, his eyes glazed, his chest heaving.
"Holy shit," he manages.
I stand, wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, and kiss him. Deep and dirty, letting him taste himself on my tongue. Letting him know exactly what I just did.
"Now we're done," I say against his lips.
He laughs, weak and breathless. "You're going to be the death of me."
"But what a way to go."
We clean up as best we can in the tiny space. Paper towels and hand soap, trying to make ourselves presentable. His neck is a mess of hickeys and bite marks that I didn't bother to be subtle about. My lips are swollen, my hair a disaster.
"Everyone's going to know," he says, examining the marks in the mirror.
"Good."
"Jagger's going to kill us."
"Jagger can mind his own fucking business." I unlock the door, peek out. The aisle is empty. "Come on. Before someone starts asking questions."
"Jinx." He catches my arm before I can leave. Turns me to face him. "I love you."
The words are simple. Direct. No hesitation.
"I know." I kiss him once more, soft this time. "I love you too. Now let's go save some kids."
We slip out separately, a few minutes apart. When I pass Jagger's row, he doesn't even look up from his tablet. But Jonah, sitting beside him, gives me a knowing smirk and a thumbs up.
I flip him off and keep walking.
The seatbelt sign comes on two hours later.
We're beginning our descent into Singapore, the pilot's voice crackling through the speakers with information about local time and weather. Cloudy skies, chance of rain, temperature in the mid-eighties. Perfect conditions for an extraction. The kind of night where shadows are deep and visibility is low.
I'm back in my seat, cleaned up and composed, but I can still feel the effects of that orgasm. A pleasant ache that reminds me what we did. What we have.
My lips are still swollen from sucking his cock. His neck is covered in marks that his collar can't quite hide. Evidence. Proof.
Whatever happens next, we had that. That moment of connection, of claiming, of being so tangled up in each other that nothing else mattered. Not the mission. Not the danger. Not the silver-haired monster waiting for us on the ground.
If this is my last mission, at least I'll die knowing what it feels like to be loved. What it feels like to love someone back.
"Final approach," Jagger says quietly through the comm. "Everyone know their positions?"
Murmured confirmations from around the cabin. Glancing back, I watch our rag-tag rescue crew. Not good enough, but not too shabby. My eyes come to rest on Asher, watching him tap a rhythm on his knee.
The woman who'd been watching him is awake now, staring out the window with studied disinterest. Too casual. Too controlled.
"Potential hostile, row 23," Marlee reports through the comm. "She's been texting since the seatbelt sign came on. Could be nothing. Could be reporting our arrival."
