Chapter One: Gravity’s Pull

The fluorescent lights of the NASA cafeteria hummed softly overhead, casting a sterile glow over the scattered tables where astronauts, engineers, and support staff lingered over meals between shifts. The scent of coffee—bitter, over-brewed, and slightly burnt—mingled with the faint metallic tang of the industrial kitchen. Stephanie Shraeder sat at a corner table, her fingers tracing the rim of her untouched coffee cup as she stared at the mission roster displayed on her tablet. The name Joseph Klein glared back at her, bold and unmistakable, paired with her own under the Primary Crew heading.

She exhaled sharply through her nose, her green eyes narrowing. Of all the people. She had heard the rumors, of course—how Klein was being pulled back into active rotation after his leave, how his last mission had been flawless despite the personal chaos unraveling in his life. But she hadn’t expected this. Not now. Not when the stakes were so high.

The chair across from her scraped against the linoleum, and she looked up just as Joseph Klein lowered himself into it, his broad frame making the standard-issue cafeteria furniture seem flimsy. He was taller than she remembered, his dark brown hair slightly disheveled, as if he’d been running his hands through it. His blue eyes met hers, and for a moment, neither spoke. The air between them thickened, charged with something unspoken—anticipation, maybe, or the ghost of old tensions.

“You got the update too, then,” he said finally, his voice low, rough around the edges like gravel underfoot. He set his own tablet on the table, the screen dark.

Stephanie leaned back slightly, crossing her arms. “Yeah. Guess we’re stuck with each other.”

One corner of his mouth quirked upward, not quite a smile. “Could be worse.”

She arched an eyebrow. “How?”

He shrugged, the movement pulling the fabric of his navy-blue flight jacket taut across his shoulders. “Could’ve been paired with someone who doesn’t know how to handle a thruster malfunction at forty thousand feet.”

A reluctant smirk tugged at her lips. “Fair point.” She uncrossed her arms, letting her hands rest on the table. Her fingers twitched, itching for something to do—adjust a control, flip a switch, anything to ground her in the face of his quiet intensity. “You think we can make this work? After—”

“—after the last time?” He finished for her, his gaze dropping to his hands as he laced his fingers together. The knuckles were slightly scarred, old marks from training exercises or missions long past. “We didn’t exactly leave things on the best terms.”

Stephanie exhaled, her breath warm against the cool air between them. “No. We didn’t.” She remembered the argument—sharp, heated, both of them too stubborn to back down. It had been over something stupid, a miscommunication during a high-pressure sim that had spiraled into something personal. She’d called him reckless. He’d called her rigid. And then, silence. Months of it.

But that was before. Before the failed mission that had haunted her dreams, before the divorce papers he never talked about, before the weight of this new assignment settled onto their shoulders like a second skin.

Joseph leaned forward slightly, his forearms resting on the table. The distance between them shrunk to a foot, close enough that she could see the faint stubble along his jaw, the way his pupils dilated when he looked at her. “Look,” he said, his voice dropping lower, “we both know this mission isn’t just another routine flight. If we’re going to be up there together, we need to trust each other. No ego, no old grudges.”

Stephanie studied him—the set of his shoulders, the way his thumb absently traced the edge of his tablet. He was different now. Softer, maybe. Or just tired. The thought sent an unexpected pang through her chest.

“Fine,” she said, nodding once. “Truce?”

His lips curved, just barely. “Truce.”

A beat of silence passed, the kind that should’ve been awkward but wasn’t. The cafeteria noise faded into the background, the clatter of trays and murmur of conversations dulling until all she heard was the steady rhythm of her own pulse.

“So,” she said, clearing her throat. “You gonna tell me what you’ve been doing since they pulled you off active duty? Or is that still classified?”

Joseph chuckled, the sound warm and unexpected. “Not classified. Just… uninteresting.” He rubbed the back of his neck, his fingers lingering against the short hairs there. “Mostly paperwork. Debriefings. And a lot of time in a cabin in the woods, trying to remember how to be still.”

Stephanie imagined it—the isolation, the quiet, the way the trees would’ve swallowed the sound of his footsteps. She knew that kind of solitude, the way it could eat at you if you let it. “Sounds peaceful,” she said, though she wasn’t sure if she meant it.

“Peaceful,” he repeated, his voice dry. “Yeah. That’s one word for it.”

She tilted her head, catching the way his gaze flickered away, just for a second. “You don’t strike me as the type to enjoy being alone that much.”

His eyes snapped back to hers, sharp and searching. “What type do I strike you as, Shraeder?”

The use of her last name sent a jolt through her, familiar and intimate all at once. She held his gaze, refusing to look away. “The type who needs a challenge. Someone to push back.”

A slow, knowing smile spread across his face. “And you’re volunteering for the job?”

The air between them crackled, charged with something that wasn’t just professional tension. Stephanie’s fingers curled against the table, her nails biting into her palms. She should’ve looked away. Should’ve changed the subject. But she didn’t.

“Maybe,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Joseph’s breath hitched, just slightly. His hand twitched on the table, as if he wanted to reach for hers but thought better of it. The moment stretched, taut and fragile, until a loud laugh from a nearby table shattered it.

Stephanie blinked, the spell broken. She sat back, suddenly hyper-aware of the space between them, of the way her skin hummed where his gaze had lingered. “We should go over the pre-flight checks,” she said, her voice too quick, too bright. “Make sure we’re synced up on the timelines.”

Joseph didn’t move for a long second. Then, slowly, he nodded. “Yeah. We should.”

He pulled his tablet closer, tapping the screen to life. Stephanie did the same, her fingers flying over the interface with practiced ease. But her focus kept slipping—not to the data, not to the mission parameters, but to the man beside her. The way his sleeve rode up slightly when he typed, revealing a thin, pale scar along his forearm. The way his jaw tightened when he read something he didn’t like. The way, every so often, his eyes would flick toward her, dark and unreadable.

They worked in silence for a while, the only sounds the quiet taps of their fingers on the screens and the distant hum of the cafeteria. But the silence wasn’t empty. It was thick, heavy with everything they weren’t saying.

Stephanie finally broke it. “You ever think about how weird it is?” she asked, nodding toward the roster on her screen. “That we’re the ones they picked for this?”

Joseph glanced up, his brow furrowing slightly. “We’re the best.”

She shook her head. “That’s not what I mean. I mean… out of everyone. We’re the ones who get to see it. Really see it.” She gestured vaguely toward the ceiling, as if the vast expanse of space lay just beyond the fluorescent lights. “No atmosphere in the way. No distractions. Just… us and the stars.”

His expression softened. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I think about it.”

She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. “What’s it like for you? When you think about it.”

Joseph was quiet for so long she thought he might not answer. Then, slowly, he spoke. “It’s like standing on the edge of something huge. Something that doesn’t care if you’re scared or ready or not. It just… is.” He paused, his eyes distant. “And for a little while, you get to be part of it. Not just watching from down here, but in it. Like you belong there.”

Stephanie’s chest ached. She knew that feeling—the pull of the unknown, the way it could make you feel small and infinite all at once. “Yeah,” she whispered. “Exactly like that.”

Their eyes met again, and this time, neither looked away. The noise of the cafeteria faded entirely, leaving only the two of them, suspended in a moment that felt separate from time. Joseph’s hand was still on the table, his fingers relaxed now, the scar on his forearm a pale contrast to his tanned skin. Stephanie’s gaze dropped to it, then lower, to where his wrist emerged from the cuff of his jacket. She could see the steady pulse of his vein, the way his skin looked warm and solid and real.

She wanted to touch it.

The thought hit her like a physical force, sharp and unexpected. She curled her fingers into her palm, her nails biting into her skin. What the hell was wrong with her? This was Joseph Klein—her colleague, her rival, the man she’d spent months avoiding. But the way he was looking at her now, with something raw and open in his eyes, made her forget all of that.

His voice was rough when he spoke again. “Stephanie.”

She looked up. His gaze was dark, intense, locked onto hers like a tractor beam. The air between them was electric, every inch of space charged with something she didn’t dare name.

“We should—” she started, but her voice cracked. She tried again. “We should finish this later. The pre-flight stuff.”

Joseph didn’t move. Didn’t blink. “Yeah,” he said finally, his voice low. “Later.”

Neither of them reached for their tablets. Neither of them stood. They just sat there, caught in the gravity of something neither was ready to acknowledge, the unspoken promise of later hanging between them like a star on the horizon—distant, but impossible to ignore.

Chapter Two: Simulated Surrender

The simulation chamber hummed with the residual energy of the day’s grueling exercises, the air thick with the scent of sweat and the metallic tang of the high-tech equipment. Stephanie stood with her back pressed against the cool, curved wall, her breath still uneven from the last scenario—a simulated hull breach that had pushed them both to their limits. Joseph was across from her, his broad shoulders rising and falling with measured breaths as he wiped the back of his neck with a damp towel. The fluorescent lights cast sharp shadows under his jawline, accentuating the exhaustion etched into his features.

Neither spoke. The silence wasn’t comfortable, but it wasn’t hostile either. It was the kind of quiet that came after pushing boundaries, after the adrenaline had ebbed but the tension between them remained, coiled tight and ready to snap.

Stephanie’s fingers twitched at her sides. She could still feel the ghost of his grip on her wrist from earlier, when he’d yanked her clear of the simulated debris field. His touch had been rough, necessary—but the way his thumb had lingered against her pulse for a fraction of a second too long had sent a jolt through her that had nothing to do with the drill. She swallowed hard, her gaze flickering to the way his flight suit clung to his chest, the fabric damp and molded to the lean muscle beneath.

Joseph finally broke the silence, his voice low and rough. “That was brutal.”

She exhaled, a shaky laugh escaping her. “You’re telling me. I thought the pressure regulator was going to fail for real that time.”

He tossed the towel onto the bench beside him, the movement fluid despite the fatigue weighing his limbs. “It did. For three seconds.” His lips quirked, just barely. “You didn’t notice.”

Stephanie’s eyebrows shot up. “The hell I didn’t.”

“You were too busy arguing with Houston about the oxygen recalibration.” His tone was dry, but there was no bite to it. Just the quiet observation of someone who’d been watching her closely.

She crossed her arms, suddenly hyper-aware of the way her own suit clung to her skin, the fabric abraded from hours of movement. “I was right.”

“You were.” He didn’t look away. “You usually are.”

The admission hung between them, heavy and unguarded. Stephanie’s stomach flipped. This was dangerous territory—the kind of honesty that led to mistakes, the kind that made her forget why she’d spent years keeping him at arm’s length.

Joseph took a step toward her, then another, closing the distance until the heat radiating off his body made her skin prickle. “Steph.”

Her name on his lips was a warning and a plea all at once. She should’ve stepped back. Should’ve reminded him—herself—that this was a terrible idea. But the way he was looking at her, like she was the only thing in the room worth seeing, short-circuited every rational thought in her head.

“What?” Her voice came out breathier than she intended.

His hand lifted, slow and deliberate, until his knuckles grazed her cheekbone. The callouses on his fingers caught against her skin, sending a shiver down her spine. “I’m done pretending I don’t see you.”

The words landed like a physical blow. Stephanie’s breath hitched. “Joseph—”

“No.” His thumb brushed her lower lip, silencing her. “No excuses. Not now.”

She should’ve stopped him. Should’ve laughed it off, turned away, done anything but what she did next.

She leaned into his touch.

Joseph’s breath stuttered. His fingers curled around the back of her neck, warm and possessive, pulling her the last fraction of an inch until their mouths crashed together. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t sweet. It was years of friction and unspoken words and wanting finally breaking free.

Stephanie gasped against his lips, her hands flying to his chest—whether to push him away or drag him closer, she didn’t know. But then his tongue swept against hers, hot and demanding, and any thought of resistance dissolved. She fisted her hands in his damp shirt, yanking him against her as her body arched into his. The kiss deepened, turning desperate, their teeth clacking together as they fought for control neither was willing to cede.

Joseph groaned, low and rough, his free hand sliding down her back to grip her hip, his fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. “Fuck, Steph—”

She didn’t let him finish. She bit his lower lip, just enough to make him hiss, before soothing the sting with her tongue. His grip tightened, his breath coming in sharp bursts against her mouth. “You drive me out of my goddamn mind.”

“Good,” she breathed, nipping at his jaw. “Because you’ve been doing the same to me.”

His laugh was dark, triumphant. Then his mouth was on hers again, harder this time, his teeth scraping her lip as his hands roamed over her—down her sides, over the curve of her ass, pulling her flush against him. She could feel how hard he was, the rigid length of him pressing against her stomach, and a bolt of heat shot straight between her thighs.

Stephanie broke the kiss with a gasp, her nails raking down his chest. “We shouldn’t—”

“We should’ve done this years ago.” His voice was a growl, his hands already working at the fastenings of her flight suit, peeling the top layer down her shoulders with impatient efficiency. The cooler air hit her skin, raising goosebumps, but it was nothing compared to the heat of his palms sliding under the fabric to push it down her arms.

She let him strip her, her own fingers fumbling with the seals of his suit. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it.” He caught her wrist, pressing her palm flat against his chest, right over his heart. The steady, rapid thump beneath her fingers made her pulse spike.

She did. God help her, she did.

The last of her suit pooled at her waist, leaving her in nothing but a thin, moisture-wicking tank. Joseph’s gaze dropped, his breath audibly catching as he took in the way her nipples strained against the fabric, the rise and fall of her chest as she fought to drag in enough air.

“Joseph,” she warned, but it lacked conviction.

His answer was to drop to his knees in front of her.

Stephanie’s breath left her in a rush as his hands slid up her thighs, his thumbs hooking under the waistband of her leggings. “Lift.”

She obeyed without thinking, bracing her hands on his shoulders as he dragged the fabric down her legs, leaving her bare except for the scrap of lace between her thighs. His breath was hot against her stomach, his lips pressing open-mouthed kisses to the sensitive skin just above the elastic.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, his voice rough with awe. Then his mouth was on her, through the lace, his tongue dragging a slow, wet line over the fabric that had her knees nearly buckling.

“Oh god—” Her fingers tangled in his hair, her hips jerking forward involuntarily. The lace was soaked now, clinging to her as his teeth grazed her clit, the sensation almost too much. “Joseph, please—”

He hooked a finger under the fabric and tugged it aside. The first swipe of his tongue against her bare skin made her cry out, her thighs trembling. He didn’t let up. His hands gripped her ass, holding her steady as he devoured her, his tongue delving between her folds before circling her clit with maddening precision.

“You taste—” He groaned, the vibration sending another jolt through her. “—better than I imagined.”

Stephanie’s head fell back against the wall with a thud, her hips rolling against his mouth. “I’ve imagined this so many times—”

His chuckle was dark, satisfied. “Yeah? Tell me.”

She couldn’t form words, not with his fingers joining his tongue, one sliding inside her while his thumb pressed against her clit. “N-no fair—”

“Tell me, or I stop.” His breath ghosted over her, the threat clear.

She whimpered, her nails scraping his scalp. “Your hands. Your mouth. The way you—ah—the way you look at me like you want to ruin me—”

His growl vibrated against her, and then he was back, his tongue flicking over her clit in rapid, relentless strokes. “I do,” he rasped. “I want to ruin you for anyone else. Want you to remember only this.”

The filthy promise sent her spiraling. Her orgasm crashed over her with a cry, her body locking up as pleasure wracked through her in wave after wave. Joseph didn’t stop, drawing out every last shudder until she was boneless, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

Only then did he pull back, pressing a final, lingering kiss to her inner thigh before looking up at her. His lips were slick with her, his eyes dark with hunger. “My turn.”

Stephanie didn’t hesitate. She dropped to her knees in front of him, her hands going straight for his waistband. “Then take your suit off.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. The fabric hit the floor between them, and then she was staring at him—all of him. His cock was thick, flushed dark at the tip, the veins standing out against his skin. She wrapped her hand around him, her thumb swiping over the bead of precome at his slit.

Joseph hissed, his head falling back. “Steph—”

She leaned in, her breath hot against him. “Tell me what you want.”

His hands tangled in her hair, his voice rough. “Your mouth. Now.”

She didn’t tease. She took him in one smooth motion, her lips sealing around the head before she sank down, her tongue flattening against the underside. His curse was guttural, his hips jerking forward before he forced himself still.

“Fuck—just like that—” His fingers tightened in her hair, not guiding, just holding on as she worked him, her mouth wet and tight around him. She hollowed her cheeks, pulling back until just the tip remained between her lips, then took him deep again, her throat opening for him.

“You’re gonna make me—” His breath hitched. “—come—”

She hummed around him, the vibration making his thighs tremble. His control snapped. With a growl, he pulled her off him, hauling her up and spinning her around until her hands were pressed against the wall, her ass flush against him.

“Need to be inside you.” His voice was a rasp in her ear, his cock hot and heavy against her. “Now, Steph. Please.”

She didn’t answer with words. She reached back, gripping his hip, and guided him home.

The first thrust was brutal, perfect. Joseph buried himself to the hilt with a groan, his forehead dropping to her shoulder. “Fuck—”

Stephanie arched against him, her body stretching to take him. “Harder.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

What followed was raw, desperate—years of tension and want and fighting this finally unleashed. Joseph set a punishing pace, his hands gripping her hips hard enough to leave marks, his breath hot against her neck as he drove into her again and again.

“You feel—” Thrust. “—so good—” Thrust. “—so tight—”

Stephanie could only moan, her body coiling tight around him, her own release building again with every snap of his hips. “Don’t stop—please—”

“I won’t.” His hand snaked around her, his fingers finding her clit. “Come with me.”

Two strokes. That was all it took. Her orgasm hit her like a wave, her body clamping down around him as she cried out. Joseph followed with a groan, his hips stuttering against her as he spilled inside her, his breath ragged against her skin.

For a long moment, neither moved. The only sound in the chamber was their combined breathing, the occasional shudder that wracked through them both.

Then Joseph pressed a kiss to the space between her shoulder blades, his voice rough. “We are so fucked.”

Stephanie laughed, breathless and giddy, turning her head to catch his mouth in a slow, deep kiss. “Yeah,” she murmured against his lips. “We are.”

Chapter Three: Heat in the Cold Chamber

The air in the simulation chamber still hummed with the residual charge of what had just transpired—breathless, desperate, and undeniable. Stephanie pressed her palm against the cool metal wall behind her, grounding herself as the reality of what they’d done settled over her like a physical weight. Her tank top clung to her skin, damp with sweat, and the open flaps of her flight suit hung limp at her sides. Joseph stood close, his chest rising and falling in uneven rhythms, his gaze locked somewhere between the floor and her face, as if he couldn’t decide where to look first.

A sharp beep from the chamber’s control panel shattered the silence. The fluorescent lights flickered once, then brightened to their usual sterile glow, signaling the end of their allocated time. Stephanie exhaled through her nose, the sound shaky. “We should—” she started, but her voice cracked. She cleared her throat and tried again. “We need to get out of here.”

Joseph didn’t move immediately. His fingers twitched at his sides, as if he wanted to reach for her but thought better of it. Instead, he bent down and snatched his discarded flight suit from the floor, the fabric rustling in his grip. “Yeah,” he murmured, his voice rough. “Before someone comes looking for us.”

Stephanie pushed off the wall, her legs unsteady beneath her. She fumbled with the fastenings of her suit, her fingers clumsy as she tried to reclaim some semblance of professionalism. The zipper caught twice before she managed to seal it halfway, leaving the top undone. She didn’t bother fixing it. The sooner they were out of here, the better.

Joseph had already pulled his suit on, though he hadn’t bothered with the inner layers. The collar stood open, exposing the faint red marks her mouth had left along his throat. Stephanie’s stomach twisted at the sight. Evidence. Stupid, reckless evidence. She turned away, grabbing her discarded hair tie from the bench and yanking her ponytail back into place with more force than necessary.

The chamber door hissed open before she could steel herself for what lay beyond. Joseph stepped through first, his broad shoulders squaring as if bracing for impact. Stephanie followed, her pulse hammering in her throat—and froze.

Mark Reynolds, one of the lead simulation techs, stood in the corridor just outside, arms crossed over his chest. His brow was furrowed, his mouth pressed into a thin line as his gaze flicked between them. The judgment in his expression was unmistakable. “Took you long enough,” he said, his voice dripping with disapproval. “Commander Harris was looking for you two twenty minutes ago. Thought you’d bailed on the debrief.”

Stephanie’s face burned. She could feel Joseph tense beside her, his body radiating controlled frustration. “We were running through the post-sim diagnostics,” Joseph said smoothly, though his voice carried an edge. “Didn’t realize the time.”

Mark’s eyes narrowed. “Diagnostics,” he repeated, skepticism heavy in his tone. His gaze lingered on Stephanie’s disheveled appearance—the half-zipped suit, the flush in her cheeks—and she fought the urge to shrink under his scrutiny. “Well, Harris is in the briefing room. Said it’s mandatory before you both clock out.”

Joseph nodded once, sharp. “We’ll be right there.”

Mark hesitated, as if he wanted to say more, but after a beat, he turned on his heel and strode away, his boots thudding against the linoleum. The moment he rounded the corner, Stephanie exhaled, her shoulders sagging. “Shit,” she muttered.

Joseph rubbed a hand over his face, the stubble along his jaw rasping under his palm. “Yeah.”

They stood there in the empty corridor, the weight of what had just happened—and what was to come—pressing down on them. The mission started tomorrow. Tomorrow. And here they were, already unraveling before it had even begun.

Stephanie swallowed hard. “We can’t let this distract us,” she said, more to herself than to him. “Not now.”

Joseph’s jaw clenched. “I know.”

She risked a glance at him. His expression was shuttered, the vulnerability from moments ago already locked away. It made her chest ache. “Joseph—”

“Don’t.” His voice was low, almost a growl. “Not here.”

She snapped her mouth shut. He was right. This wasn’t the time or the place. But the words burned in her throat, unsaid. What the hell are we doing?

They walked the rest of the way to the briefing room in silence, the distance between them feeling like a chasm. Stephanie kept her hands clenched at her sides, resisting the urge to reach for him, to bridge the gap. Every step felt like a countdown.

The briefing room was half-empty when they arrived, only Commander Harris and a handful of other crew members lingering over holographic displays of the mission trajectory. Harris looked up as they entered, his sharp eyes missing nothing—the tension in Joseph’s posture, the way Stephanie avoided meeting anyone’s gaze. “Ah, there you are,” he said, his tone neutral but his expression unreadable. “Glad you could join us.”

Stephanie forced herself to stand taller. “Sorry for the delay, sir.”

Harris waved a hand. “No matter. We’re just going over the final pre-launch checks.” He gestured to the screen. “You two are up first thing tomorrow. Make sure you’re rested.”

Joseph nodded. “Understood.”

The debrief passed in a blur. Stephanie answered questions on autopilot, her mind racing. Every time she glanced at Joseph, she found him already looking at her, his gaze dark and unreadable. The air between them was thick with everything they weren’t saying.

When Harris finally dismissed them, Stephanie all but bolted for the door. She needed space. She needed to think. Joseph caught up to her in the hallway, his hand closing around her elbow before she could pull away. “Steph,” he said, his voice low and urgent.

She turned to face him, her breath coming too fast. “What?”

His fingers tightened just slightly, his thumb brushing over the inside of her wrist in a gesture that was almost tender. Almost. “We’ll figure this out.”

She wanted to believe him. God, she wanted to. But the fear coiled in her gut, cold and insistent. “How?” she whispered. “We can’t afford to screw this up. Not again.”

Joseph’s gaze darkened. “We won’t.”

She searched his face, looking for the certainty she so desperately needed. All she found was the same raw hunger from the chamber, the same desperation. It terrified her.

A group of technicians passed by, their laughter too loud in the quiet hallway. Joseph dropped his hand, stepping back as if burned. Stephanie wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly chilled.

“Get some rest,” Joseph said, his voice carefully neutral. “Tomorrow’s a big day.”

She nodded, though she knew sleep would be impossible. “You too.”

They parted ways at the junction, Stephanie heading for the women’s locker room and Joseph striding toward the men’s. Every step felt like a retreat.

Inside the locker room, Stephanie leaned back against the door, her breath hitching. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting harsh shadows across the rows of lockers. She pressed her palms to her eyes, as if she could rub away the memory of Joseph’s hands on her, his mouth against hers, the way he’d looked at her like she was the only thing in the universe that mattered.

Stupid. So goddamn stupid.

She stripped out of her flight suit with sharp, jerky movements, the fabric whispering against her skin. The shower stall beckoned, the promise of scalding water a small comfort. She turned the knob as far as it would go, stepping under the spray with a hiss as it seared her skin. The heat was almost painful, but she welcomed it. Anything to burn away the lingering sensation of him.

Stephanie tilted her head back, letting the water sluice over her face. She could still taste him. Still feel the ghost of his touch between her thighs. She squeezed her eyes shut, her nails biting into her palms.

This couldn’t happen again. It wouldn’t. They had a mission to focus on, a crew counting on them. She couldn’t afford to be distracted—not by him, not by the way her body still hummed with the aftermath of his hands, his mouth, the way he’d filled her so completely she’d forgotten her own name.

She turned off the water with a sharp twist of her wrist and grabbed a towel, scrubbing it over her skin with more force than necessary. The mirror over the sink was fogged, her reflection a blur of smudged edges and muted colors. She wiped a clear patch with her hand and stared at herself.

Her cheeks were still flushed. Her lips swollen.

Damn him.

She dressed quickly, pulling on a fresh set of clothes from her locker—a simple cotton tee and leggings, nothing that would draw attention. Her hair, still damp, she left down, letting the strands curtain her face like a shield.

The facility was quieter now, most of the staff already gone for the day. Stephanie kept her head down as she made her way to the parking lot, the evening air cool against her heated skin. Her car was one of the last remaining, parked under the flickering glow of a streetlamp. She unlocked it with a beep, the sound too loud in the stillness.

Just as she reached for the door handle, a voice cut through the quiet.

“Stephanie.”

She froze.

Joseph stood a few feet away, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, his shoulders hunched against the evening chill. The light from the lamp cast his face in sharp relief, highlighting the exhaustion in his eyes.

She turned to face him fully, her pulse kicking up. “Joseph. What are you still doing here?”

He took a step closer. Then another. “I couldn’t leave without talking to you.”

“About what?” She hated how breathless she sounded.

“About us.”

The word hung between them, heavy and undeniable. Stephanie’s chest tightened. “There is no us,” she said, but even to her own ears, it sounded like a lie.

Joseph’s jaw worked. “You know that’s not true.”

She did. God help her, she did. But admitting it out loud would make it real. And real had consequences. Real could ruin everything.

“This changes nothing,” she said, her voice steadier now. “We have a mission tomorrow. That’s all that matters.”

“Bullshit.” His voice was low, rough. He closed the distance between them in two long strides, his hand coming up to cup her face before she could pull away. His thumb brushed over her cheekbone, his touch searing even through the cool air. “You felt it too. You know you did.”

Stephanie’s breath hitched. She should’ve pushed him away. Should’ve told him to go to hell. But the warmth of his palm against her skin was intoxicating, his scent—leather and sweat and something uniquely him—wrapping around her like a promise.

“Joseph,” she whispered, her resolve crumbling.

He leaned in, his forehead resting against hers. “I’m not asking for forever,” he murmured. “I’m just asking for now.”

And that, more than anything, broke her.

Because now was all they could have. Now was dangerous and reckless and perfectly, terribly them.

She turned her face just enough to press her lips to his palm, her eyes slipping closed. “We’re going to regret this.”

His breath hitched. “Probably.”

Then his mouth was on hers, hungry and desperate, and Stephanie melted into him, her hands fisting in the front of his jacket. The kiss was different this time—slower, deeper, like they had all the time in the world. Like the mission, the consequences, the entire universe had ceased to exist.

Joseph backed her against the car, his body pinning hers, and Stephanie arched into him, her mind blanking to everything but the feel of him, the taste of him, the way his heart pounded against her chest in time with her own.

When they finally broke apart, breathless and trembling, Joseph rested his forehead against hers again, his voice a rough whisper. “Tomorrow, we’re professionals.”

Stephanie nodded, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “And tonight?”

His lips curved against hers, just barely. “Tonight, we’re ours.”

Chapter Four: Tangled in the Dark

The parking lot was empty except for the hum of distant traffic and the occasional flicker of the streetlamp above them. Stephanie’s breath came in shallow bursts, her fingers still tangled in the fabric of Joseph’s jacket as if she could anchor herself to him—anchor herself to this, whatever fragile, reckless thing they were doing. His thumb traced the curve of her cheekbone, slow and deliberate, like he was memorizing the shape of her. The air between them was thick with the weight of everything unspoken, every stolen touch, every glance they’d pretended wasn’t loaded with hunger.

Joseph exhaled sharply, his breath warm against her temple. “We can’t keep doing this,” he murmured, but his voice lacked conviction, rough with the same desperation that had driven them together in the simulation chamber, that had made him chase her into the parking lot like a man starving. His other hand hovered at her waist, not quite touching, as if he were afraid she’d vanish if he gripped her too tight.

Stephanie let out a shaky laugh, her lips brushing the stubble along his jaw. “No?” she whispered. “Then why does it feel like the only thing keeping me sane?” Her body arched into his without thought, her breasts pressing against his chest through the thin fabric of her tee. The cool evening air did nothing to dampen the heat pooling low in her stomach, the ache between her thighs that had been there since the moment he’d pinned her against the wall of the simulation chamber and fucked her like she was the last thing he’d ever need.

Joseph groaned, low and guttural, his fingers finally tightening around her hip. “Because it’s insane,” he growled, but his mouth crashed down on hers before the words fully left his lips, his tongue sweeping past her teeth in a claim that was anything but rational. Stephanie melted into him, her nails digging into his shoulders as she kissed him back just as fiercely, her body remembering the way he’d filled her, stretched her, made her scream his name like a prayer. The memory alone had her hips rolling against his, seeking friction, seeking more.

A sharp ringtone sliced through the haze of their kiss.

Joseph jerked back as if burned, his breath ragged. Stephanie’s lips felt swollen, her skin too hot, too sensitive. She watched as he fumbled in his pocket, pulling out his phone with a curse. The screen lit up his face in the dim glow of the streetlamp, casting sharp shadows under his cheekbones. His expression darkened.

“Lena,” he muttered, more to himself than to her.

Stephanie’s stomach dropped. The name hung between them like a blade.

Joseph hesitated, his thumb hovering over the answer button. The phone rang again, insistent. Stephanie stepped back, her body suddenly too aware of the space between them, the way the night air bit at her damp skin. She crossed her arms over her chest, as if that could shield her from the way her heart was hammering against her ribs.

“You should take it,” she said, her voice steadier than she felt.

Joseph’s jaw clenched. “Steph—”

“Take it,” she repeated, firmer this time. She turned away, her fingers curling into fists at her sides. She didn’t want to hear it. Didn’t want to see the way his face would change when he spoke to her—the wife he still loved, the wife he’d never really let go of.

He answered on the fourth ring.

“Lena.” His voice was rough, strained. Stephanie kept her back to him, staring at the dark outline of the NASA facility, the place where their careers—and now their hearts—were tangled beyond repair.

“Joseph.” The woman’s voice was tinny through the phone, but Stephanie could hear the relief in it, the warmth. “Oh god, I didn’t think you’d pick up.”

Stephanie’s nails bit into her palms.

Joseph ran a hand through his hair, his shoulders tensing. “What’s wrong?”

A pause. Then, softer: “Can’t I just call to hear your voice?”

Stephanie’s breath hitched. She pressed a hand to her mouth, as if that could stifle the sudden, irrational urge to scream.

Joseph’s free hand flexed at his side, like he was fighting the instinct to reach for her. “It’s late,” he said, but there was no bite to it. Just exhaustion. “You never call this late unless—”

“Unless I miss you,” Lena interrupted. “Unless I’m lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering when the hell you’re coming home.”

Stephanie’s vision blurred. She blinked rapidly, her throat tight.

Joseph’s voice dropped. “You know I can’t—”

“I know,” Lena snapped, but there was a tremor in her voice. “I know you’re busy. I know you’re important. But I’m your wife, Joseph. Or at least I was. And I’m tired of pretending I don’t still—” Her voice cracked. “I’m tired of pretending this doesn’t kill me.”

Stephanie’s chest burned. She shouldn’t be listening to this. She should walk away, get in her car, drive until the sound of Lena’s voice was just a memory. But her feet were rooted to the asphalt, her body locked in place by the raw, aching honesty in Lena’s words.

Joseph’s breath was audible, shaky. “What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to say you miss me too,” Lena whispered. “I want you to say you’re coming home. I want you to mean it this time.”

Stephanie’s fingers dug into her arms, her nails leaving half-moon indentations in her skin. She could feel the weight of Joseph’s gaze on her back, even as he stayed silent, the phone pressed to his ear like a lifeline—or a noose.

“I don’t know if I can give you that,” he said finally, so quiet Stephanie almost didn’t hear him.

Lena’s breath hitched. “Joseph—”

“I don’t know what I can give you anymore,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “I don’t know what’s left.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. Stephanie’s pulse roared in her ears.

“Are you with her?” Lena asked suddenly.

Joseph went still. “What?”

“Stephanie,” Lena said, her voice sharp now, the vulnerability replaced by something colder. “Are you with her right now?”

Stephanie’s breath stalled.

Joseph didn’t answer.

“Goddamn it, Joseph,” Lena hissed. “I knew it. I knew the second they paired you two up—”

“It’s not what you think,” Joseph cut in, but his voice lacked conviction.

“Then what is it?” Lena demanded. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re choosing her over me. Again.”

“I’m not choosing anyone,” Joseph said, but the words sounded hollow even to Stephanie. “I’m just—”

“You’re just what?” Lena’s voice rose. “You’re just fucking her while I’m here, waiting like an idiot? You’re just letting her have the parts of you I haven’t seen in years?”

“Lena, stop—”

“No,” she snapped. “You stop. You stop pretending this is just work. You stop pretending you don’t want her. And you tell me, Joseph—right now—if this is it. If I’m finally the one you’re walking away from.”

Stephanie’s knees nearly gave out. She pressed a hand to the hood of her car, the metal cold beneath her palm, the only thing grounding her.

Joseph’s breath was ragged. “I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice raw. “I don’t know, okay? I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”

Lena let out a bitter laugh. “That’s the first honest thing you’ve said in months.” A pause. Then, quieter: “I love you. And I hate that I still do.”

Joseph closed his eyes, his free hand clenching into a fist. “I love you too,” he said, so soft Stephanie almost didn’t hear it.

The words hit her like a physical blow. She stumbled back a step, her breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps.

“*Then come home,” Lena pleaded. “Please. Just—come home.”

Joseph didn’t answer. The silence stretched, thick with everything unsaid.

“Joseph?”

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said finally, his voice empty.

“Joseph—”

He ended the call.

The sudden silence was deafening. Stephanie’s heart pounded so hard she thought she might be sick. She didn’t turn around. Didn’t want to see the look on his face. Didn’t want to know if he regretted the words he’d just spoken—or if he’d meant them.

Footsteps crunched on gravel. Joseph’s shadow fell over her, long and distorted in the flickering light.

“Steph—”

“Don’t,” she whispered, her voice breaking. She wrapped her arms tighter around herself, as if that could hold her together.

Joseph reached for her, his hand hovering just above her shoulder. “Let me explain.”

“Explain what?” she laughed, but there was no humor in it. “That you still love her? That you told her you still love her?” She turned then, her eyes burning. “Was any of this real, Joseph? Or was I just—”

“You were never just anything,” he cut in, his voice rough with desperation. He cupped her face, his thumbs brushing away the tears she hadn’t even realized were falling. “You were everything. You are.”

Stephanie swallowed hard, her hands coming up to grip his wrists. “Then why did you say it?”

“*Because I do,” he admitted, his forehead resting against hers. “I love her. Or—I loved her. And I don’t know how to stop. But I also—” His breath hitched. “I also can’t stop this. Can’t stop you.”

Stephanie’s chest ached. “What does that even mean?”

“*It means I’m fucked up,” he whispered. “It means I don’t know how to be the man she needs and the man I am with you. It means I’m terrified I’m going to lose you both.”

Stephanie’s fingers tightened around his wrists. “*You will,” she said, her voice trembling. “You’ll lose her because you’re here with me. And you’ll lose me because you’re still with her.”

“Then what the hell do I do?” Joseph’s voice was raw, his grip on her face bordering on painful. “Tell me, Steph. Please. Because I can’t—” His voice cracked. “I can’t lose you. Not now. Not when I just—” He swallowed. “Not when I just found you.”

Stephanie’s breath hitched. The honesty in his voice, the raw, bleeding vulnerability of it, undid her. She pressed her forehead to his, her eyes slipping closed. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “I don’t know, Joseph. But I know I can’t—” She shook her head, her throat too tight. “I can’t be the other woman. I can’t be the one you settle for when she’s not enough.”

“You were never that,” he growled, his mouth crashing down on hers in a kiss that was equal parts desperation and apology. Stephanie gasped against his lips, her hands flying to his chest, not to push him away but to hold on. His tongue swept past her teeth, deep and claiming, like he could pour every conflicting emotion into the press of his mouth against hers. She kissed him back just as fiercely, her nails digging into the fabric of his shirt, her body arching into his.

Joseph groaned, his hands sliding down to grip her ass, lifting her onto the hood of her car with an ease that made her whimper. Stephanie’s legs wrapped around his waist, her back hitting the cold metal as he pressed between her thighs, the hard ridge of his cock grinding against her through their clothes. She moaned into his mouth, her hips rolling up to meet him, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through her.

“Fuck,” Joseph hissed, tearing his mouth from hers to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down her throat. “*I can’t—I can’t get enough of you.” His teeth grazed her collarbone, his hands sliding under her tee to palm her breasts, his thumbs flicking over her nipples through the thin fabric of her bra. Stephanie arched into his touch with a broken sound, her head falling back against the car.

“Joseph—” she gasped, her fingers tangling in his hair. “We can’t—”

“*I know,” he growled, his mouth closing over one taut peak through her shirt, his teeth scraping lightly before he soothed the sting with his tongue. Stephanie’s back bowed, a whimper spilling from her lips. “But I need you. Just—one more time. Please.”

Stephanie’s breath came in sharp, uneven bursts. She knew they shouldn’t. Knew every second they spent like this was another nail in the coffin of their careers, their reputations, his marriage. But the way his hands were on her, the way his mouth was worshipping her skin—she couldn’t bring herself to care. Not when it felt this good. Not when she’d spent years pretending she didn’t want him.

“Yes,” she breathed, her hips lifting to grind against him. “*Just—just like this.”

Joseph groaned, his hands sliding to the waistband of her leggings, his fingers hooking into the fabric. “Lift,” he ordered, his voice rough.

Stephanie obeyed without hesitation, lifting her hips so he could drag her leggings and underwear down her thighs, leaving her bare to the cool night air. Joseph’s breath hitched as he took her in, his gaze dark with hunger.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his fingers tracing the slick folds of her pussy. “You’re soaking.”

Stephanie whimpered, her thighs trembling as he teased her entrance, his touch feather-light. “Joseph, please—”

“Please what?” he murmured, his thumb circling her clit in slow, maddening strokes. “You want my fingers?” He pressed two inside her, just an inch, before pulling back. “Or my cock?”

“Both,” she gasped, her nails raking down his back. “I want everything.”

Joseph growled, his control snapping. In one rough motion, he shoved her leggings the rest of the way off, spreading her thighs wide before dropping to his knees in front of her. Stephanie’s breath stalled as his hot breath ghosted over her wet heat.

“Joseph—*”

His tongue dragged through her folds, slow and deliberate, before he sealed his mouth over her clit and sucked. Stephanie cried out, her back arching off the car, her fingers fisting in his hair. He didn’t let up, his tongue working her in deep, relentless strokes, his fingers pumping in and out of her pussy in a rhythm that had her seeing stars.

“Oh god—oh fuck—” she panted, her thighs trembling around his head. “*I’m—I’m gonna—”

Joseph groaned against her, the vibration sending her crashing over the edge. Stephanie came with a broken cry, her body shuddering as wave after wave of pleasure ripped through her. Joseph didn’t stop, licking and sucking her through it, drawing out every last tremor until she was boneless and gasping beneath him.

He stood abruptly, his mouth glistening with her, his eyes dark with hunger. Stephanie watched, dazed, as he fumbled with his belt, freeing his cock. It was hard and thick, the tip already slick with precome.

“Condom,” she managed, her voice slurred with pleasure.

“Fuck,” Joseph muttered, but he didn’t reach for his wallet. Instead, he gripped the base of his cock, stroking himself once, twice, his gaze locked on hers. “*I don’t—I don’t have one.”

Stephanie’s breath hitched. She knew what that meant. Knew the risk. But the way he was looking at her, the way his cock twitched in his grip—she couldn’t bring herself to care.

“*Then pull out,” she whispered, spreading her thighs wider in invitation.

Joseph groaned, his control snapping. He surged forward, gripping her hips as he lined himself up. “You’re sure?”

“Yes,” she gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders. “Now, please—”

He didn’t make her wait. In one rough thrust, he buried himself inside her, filling her so deep she saw stars. Stephanie cried out, her back arching as her body stretched to take him, the burn of it delicious and overwhelming.

“Fuck—Steph—*” Joseph groaned, his forehead dropping to hers as he bottomed out. “You feel—”

“Move,” she begged, her heels digging into his ass. “Please, fuck me.”

Joseph didn’t need to be told twice. He pulled back and slammed into her again, his hips snapping forward with a force that had the car rocking beneath them. Stephanie moaned, her nails raking down his back as he set a brutal pace, each thrust driving her higher, closer to the edge again.

“Harder,” she gasped, her legs locking around him. “I need—”

“You need what?” Joseph growled, his teeth sinking into her shoulder as he pounded into her.

“You,” she sobbed. “Only you.”

Joseph’s rhythm faltered, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “Steph—I—”

“Come inside me,” she whispered, her voice broken. “Just this once. Please.”

Joseph’s control shattered. With a guttural groan, he buried himself to the hilt and came, his cock pulsing as he spilled inside her, his body shuddering with the force of it. Stephanie wrapped her arms and legs around him, holding him close as she followed him over, her orgasm crashing over her in a wave of heat and light.

They stayed like that for a long moment, breathless and tangled, the weight of what they’d just done pressing down on them like a physical force. Joseph’s forehead rested against hers, his cock still buried inside her, softening slowly.

“*We’re fucked,” he murmured, but there was no regret in his voice. Just awe.

Stephanie let out a shaky laugh, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “Yeah,” she whispered. “We are.”

And for the first time, she wasn’t sure she cared.

Chapter Five: Mission Protocols

The hum of the capsule’s systems filled the confined space, a steady, mechanical pulse that mirrored the tension coiled in Stephanie’s shoulders. She adjusted the straps of her flight suit with deliberate precision, her fingers moving through the motions she’d practiced a thousand times before. But today, every movement felt heavier, every breath more deliberate. The sterile white lighting cast sharp shadows across the control panels, the glow reflecting off Joseph’s profile as he ran through the final pre-launch checks. His jaw was set, his focus unwavering—or so it seemed.

Stephanie stole a glance at him, her green eyes tracing the line of his stubbled jaw, the way his dark lashes cast faint shadows beneath his eyes. He looked exhausted, but then again, so did she. The weight of the last forty-eight hours pressed between them like an unspoken storm, the memory of his hands on her skin, his voice rough with confession, still lingering in the air. You’re everything. His words had burned into her, even as the ghost of Lena’s voice on the phone had sliced through the moment. She exhaled sharply through her nose, the sound lost beneath the whir of the ventilation system.

Joseph’s fingers stilled over the console. He didn’t look at her, but she knew he’d heard it—the frustration, the unresolved anger, the hurt that neither of them had the time to address. Not now. Not when the countdown clock above them ticked inexorably toward zero.

“All systems nominal,” he said, his voice low, professional. The kind of tone that belonged in debriefings, not in the charged silence between two people who had just crossed every line they’d ever drawn.

Stephanie swallowed. “Copy that.” Her own voice was steadier than she felt. She reached for her helmet, the smooth composite material cool beneath her fingertips. The weight of it was familiar, comforting in its predictability. She didn’t let herself think about how different this moment should have been—how it should have been just another mission, another launch, another step in the career she’d built with relentless precision. Instead, it was this: a pressure cooker of want and guilt and the gnawing fear that she was standing on the precipice of losing everything.

Joseph finally turned his head, his blue eyes meeting hers. There was no smirk this time, no hint of the easy confidence that usually played at the edges of his expressions. Just raw, unfiltered exhaustion. “Steph—”

“Don’t.” She cut him off before the word could fully form, her voice sharp. “Not now.”

His jaw tightened, but he nodded once, a small, jerky motion. The intercom crackled to life, Mark Reynolds’ voice cutting through the tension like a blade. “Klein, Shraeder, you’re green for comms check. Sound off.”

Stephanie tapped the mic at her collar. “Shraeder, five by five.”

Joseph followed a beat later, his voice devoid of its usual warmth. “Klein, loud and clear.”

A pause. Then Mark again, his tone carefully neutral. “Copy. You’re looking good down there. T-minus fifteen and counting.”

Stephanie exhaled, her breath fogging the inside of her visor for a fraction of a second before the climate control adjusted. Fifteen minutes. That was all they had left before the engines ignited, before the sheer force of acceleration pressed them into their seats and hurled them toward the stars. Fifteen minutes to pretend that everything was fine.

She risked another glance at Joseph. He was staring straight ahead, his hands flexing against the armrests. The muscles in his forearms were taut, the veins more pronounced than usual. She remembered the way those hands had gripped her hips in the parking lot, the way his fingers had dug into her skin as if he were trying to memorize the shape of her. The memory sent a traitorous heat pooling low in her stomach, and she clenched her thighs together, willing the sensation away.

This was not the time.

Joseph’s voice was a rough murmur, so low the comms wouldn’t pick it up. “We need to talk after.”

Stephanie’s laugh was bitter, humorless. “After what, Joseph? After we’re 250 miles above the Earth with no escape? After we’ve spent six months in a tin can together, pretending we didn’t fuck everything up?” She kept her gaze fixed on the instrument panel, her fingers tightening around the edge of her seat. “There is no after. There’s only now.”

He turned toward her then, his body twisting in the confined space, one knee brushing against hers. The contact was accidental—or maybe not—but it sent a jolt through her anyway. His voice dropped even lower, a thread of desperation weaving through the words. “You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t lie awake at night wondering how the hell we’re supposed to come back from this?” His eyes burned into hers, bright with something she couldn’t name. “But we have to. For the mission. For us.”

“*Us*?” The word tasted like ash in her mouth. “There is no us, Joseph. There’s you and your wife, and me, and this”—she gestured vaguely between them—“this mistake.”

His hand shot out, fingers wrapping around her wrist before she could pull away. His grip wasn’t tight, but it was firm, grounding. “Don’t say that.” His thumb traced the inside of her wrist, right over her pulse point, and she hated how her traitorous body reacted—the way her heartbeat stuttered, the way her breath hitched. “You know it’s not.”

Stephanie yanked her arm free, her voice a hiss. “I know you told her you loved her. I know you still love her. So what the hell am I supposed to be, Joseph? The distraction? The backup plan?” Her chest heaved, the words spilling out before she could stop them. “I won’t be that. I won’t.”

Joseph’s face twisted, something raw and ugly flashing across his features. “You think I don’t know that?” His voice was a growl, low and rough. “You think I don’t wake up every damn day wondering how I got here? How I let this happen?” He scrubbed a hand over his face, his breath coming faster. “But I can’t—” He cut himself off, shaking his head. “I can’t lose you either.”

The words hung between them, heavy and suffocating. Stephanie wanted to scream. She wanted to slap him. She wanted to drag him into the nearest airlock and kiss him until neither of them could breathe. Instead, she did none of those things. She just stared at him, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths, her mind racing.

The intercom crackled again. “Klein, Shraeder, we’ve got a minor fluctuation in the oxygen flow on your side. Nothing critical, but we’re running a diagnostic. Sit tight.”

Joseph’s expression shuttered, the vulnerability slipping behind the mask of professionalism. “Copy that, Houston. We’re holding steady.”

Stephanie forced herself to focus on the readings in front of her, her fingers flying over the controls to pull up the diagnostics. The numbers scrolled across the screen, all within nominal ranges, but her mind wasn’t on the data. It was on the way Joseph’s thigh pressed against hers in the cramped space, on the heat of his body so close to hers, on the way his breath hitched when she shifted slightly in her seat.

She could feel his eyes on her, burning into the side of her face. “Steph—”

“Not. Now.” She didn’t look at him. She couldn’t.

A beat of silence. Then, quietly: “When?”

The question was a knife twist. She didn’t have an answer. There was no answer. Not one that didn’t end with one of them—or both of them—broken.

The countdown clock ticked down. T-minus ten.

Joseph’s hand found hers in the space between their seats, his fingers threading through hers. She should have pulled away. She should have told him to stop, that they couldn’t afford this, not when they were about to be strapped into a rocket and shot into space. But she didn’t. She let her fingers curl around his, let her thumb trace the rough calluses on his palm. His skin was warm, his grip sure, and for a moment, she let herself pretend that this was simple. That they were just two people, holding on to each other before the unknown.

“T-minus five minutes. All systems go. You are cleared for launch.”

Stephanie’s throat tightened. She didn’t look at Joseph. She couldn’t. Instead, she squeezed his hand once, hard, before letting go. “Helmets on.”

He didn’t argue. The hiss of the seals engaging filled the capsule as they both secured their helmets, the visors clicking into place. The world narrowed to the reflection of their own faces in the glass, to the steady beep of the countdown, to the hum of the engines powering up beneath them.

Joseph’s voice came through the comms, steady and sure, the professional mask firmly in place. “Houston, this is Atlas-7. We are go for launch.”

Stephanie echoed him, her own voice just as controlled. “Atlas-7, go for launch.”

The final seconds ticked away. Three. Two. One.

Ignition.

The roar of the engines swallowed everything—the tension, the unspoken words, the fear. The force of acceleration pressed them into their seats, the G-forces making every breath a struggle. Stephanie’s vision tunneled, her body vibrating with the sheer power of the rocket as it clawed its way toward the sky. Beside her, Joseph’s gloved hand found hers again, their fingers locking together in a grip that was equal parts desperation and defiance.

She didn’t pull away.

As the Earth fell away beneath them, Stephanie closed her eyes behind her visor and let herself pretend, just for a moment, that this was enough. That the two of them, hurtling toward the stars with nothing but the void and each other, could be enough.

But deep down, she knew the truth.

Some things were too broken to survive the descent.

Chapter Six: Conduction

The hum of the failing life support system wasn’t just a warning—it was a pulse, a living thing thrumming through the metal bones of the ship, vibrating under Stephanie’s palms as she pressed them against the cold bulkhead. The air smelled like ozone and sweat, the recycled atmosphere thick with the tang of their own tension. She exhaled sharply, her breath fogging in the dim emergency lights, and wedged herself deeper into the maintenance tunnel. The space was a coffin—narrow, claustrophobic, the walls slick with condensation that beaded on her skin like a second layer of sweat.

Joseph’s body was a furnace at her back. She could feel the ridge of his spine through his flight suit, the way his shoulder blades shifted as he leaned over her, his arm brushing hers as he adjusted the diagnostic panel. His thigh pressed against her hip, the muscle hard and unyielding, and when he reached past her to stabilize the wiring, his chest grazed her shoulder blades. The contact was electric, a jolt that shot straight down her spine and pooled low in her gut. She clenched her teeth.

“Fucking thing,” she hissed, her fingers slipping on the grease-smeared wrench. The tool skittered against the bulkhead with a metallic clang, the sound too loud in the confined space. She could hear the way his breath hitched when their bodies aligned, the way his exhale ruffled the fine hairs at the nape of her neck.

“Easy,” he murmured, his voice rough, like gravel under boot heels. His hand closed over hers, his fingers calloused and warm, guiding the wrench into place. The pressure of his touch sent a shiver through her, sharp and unwanted. “You’ve got it.”

She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. The heat of him was everywhere—his thigh wedged against hers, his other hand braced on the wall just above her head, caging her in. The scent of him, sweat and metal and something darker, muskier, filled her lungs. It was maddening. It was a distraction they couldn’t afford.

“Steph,” he said, his voice a low growl, the vibration of it resonating through her ribs. “Talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to say,” she snapped, twisting the wrench with more force than necessary. The bolt didn’t budge. The damn thing was fused in place, just like everything else in her life right now. “Just fix it.”

His grip on her wrist tightened, just for a second, before he let go. She heard the frustration in his exhale, the way his teeth ground together. “We can’t both be in here. Let me take over.”

“No.” The word came out sharper than she intended, but she didn’t take it back. If she stopped moving, if she let herself feel the way his body molded against hers—the hard plane of his chest, the way his hips cradled her ass, the weight of him—she’d shatter. And they didn’t have time for that. The oxygen scrubbers were failing. The CO₂ levels were climbing. Every second counted.

But then his hand was on her hip, his fingers digging in as he shifted behind her, trying to reach the same goddamn bolt she’d been wrestling with. His thigh slid between hers, the hard muscle pressing against the back of her legs, and her traitorous body reacted. Her pulse spiked. Her skin burned under the flight suit. Her nipples tightened, the fabric suddenly too rough, too constricting. She hated it. Hated that he still did this to her. Hated that she let him.

“Stephanie,” he said, his mouth so close to her ear she could feel the shape of the words against her skin, the heat of his breath curling into the shell of her ear. “We don’t have a choice. We have to work together.”

She turned her head just enough to glare at him over her shoulder. The dim light caught the stubble on his jaw, the way his lips were pressed into a thin line. He looked exhausted. Desperate. “I am working.”

His eyes were dark, the blue swallowed by his pupils in the low light. “Then let me help.”

She wanted to scream. Instead, she twisted the wrench again, her arm trembling with the effort. The bolt didn’t move. Nothing ever moved when she needed it to.

Joseph’s hand slid up her side, his palm flat against her ribs, his thumb brushing the underside of her breast through the thin material of her flight suit. It wasn’t intentional—it couldn’t be—but the way his fingers flexed, the way his breath hitched, told her he felt it too. The charge between them. The pull.

“Goddamn it,” she hissed, shoving back against him. The movement was meant to be angry, a way to put space between them, but it only pressed her ass against his hips, and—fuck—he was hard. The thick ridge of his cock was unmistakable through the fabric of his suit, the heat of him, the way his body tensed in response.

His hand stilled. His breath came faster, shallower.

She should’ve moved. Should’ve something. But she didn’t.

“Steph,” he warned, his voice rough, his fingers curling into the fabric at her waist.

She turned fully then, her chest heaving, her hands planting against his shoulders. The tunnel was too narrow—nowhere to go, no way to escape the way his body loomed over hers, the way his thighs bracketed hers, his hips pinning her against the cold metal wall. His cock was a heavy, insistent pressure against her stomach, and she could see the hunger in his eyes, the way his pupils blew wide, the way his lips parted just slightly, as if he was already tasting her.

“What?” she snapped, her voice trembling. “What do you want from me, Joseph?”

His hands came up, cupping her face, his thumbs brushing over her cheekbones. The touch was almost gentle, a stark contrast to the desperation in his voice. “I want you to stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Pretending you don’t feel this.” His mouth was a breath away from hers. “Pretending I don’t.”

She should’ve pushed him away. Should’ve reminded him of Lena, of the mess they were in, of the fact that they were in the middle of a goddamn emergency. But his thumbs traced the shape of her lips, and she was so tired of fighting it. So tired of being the one to walk away.

“Fuck you,” she whispered.

And then she kissed him.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t nice. Her teeth clashed against his, her hands fisting in the fabric of his flight suit as she yanked him closer, her body arching into his. He groaned into her mouth, the sound raw and needy, and his hands slid down to her waist, his grip bruising as he hauled her up. Her legs wrapped around his hips instinctively, her back hitting the wall with a dull thud. The cold metal dug into her shoulder blades, a stark contrast to the heat of his body, the way his cock ground against her, thick and demanding even through the layers of their suits.

“Stephanie—” he gasped, his mouth trailing down her throat, his teeth scraping over her pulse point.

“Shut up,” she panted, her fingers tangling in his hair, yanking his head back so she could kiss him again, harder this time, her tongue forcing its way past his lips. He tasted like coffee and salt and something darker, something his, and she wanted it. Wanted him. Wanted to burn away the doubt, the guilt, the fear with the heat of his body, the weight of his hands, the way he made her feel alive even when everything else was falling apart.

His hands were everywhere—gripping her ass, squeezing her thighs, his fingers digging into the flesh as he rocked against her, his cock a thick, insistent pressure between her legs. She could feel how wet she was, how her body ached for him, and she hated that she still wanted this, still needed it, even after everything.

“Please,” he murmured against her lips, his voice broken. “Let me—”

She didn’t let him finish. Her hands dropped between them, fumbling with the zipper of his flight suit, her fingers trembling as she yanked it down. His cock sprang free, thick and flushed, the head already glistening with pre-cum, the vein along the underside throbbing. She wrapped her hand around him without thinking, her thumb swiping over the slick tip, gathering the bead of fluid there.

Joseph hissed, his hips jerking into her touch. “Fuck, Steph—”

“Quiet,” she ordered, stroking him once, twice, her grip tight. She could feel the pulse of his heartbeat in the vein under her thumb, the way his muscles tensed under her fingers. It was madness. They were in the middle of a crisis, the ship’s systems failing around them, and here she was, her hand wrapped around his cock like it was the only thing that mattered.

But it felt like the only thing that mattered.

His hands found the zipper of her suit, tugging it down with rough, impatient movements. The cool air hit her skin, raising goosebumps, but she barely noticed. All she could focus on was the way his calloused fingers traced the lace edge of her bra, the way his thumb brushed over her nipple, already hard and aching under the fabric.

“Joseph,” she gasped, her back arching as he pinched the sensitive peak through the lace.

“Tell me to stop,” he growled, his mouth crashing back onto hers. His tongue plunged between her lips, hot and demanding, and his fingers slipped under the cup of her bra, finally—finally—touching her bare skin.

She moaned into his mouth, her nails digging into his shoulders. “Don’t you dare.”

He didn’t. His hand slid down, palming her breast, his thumb and forefinger rolling her nipple between them, twisting just enough to make her whimper. The pleasure was sharp, almost painful, and she loved it. Loved the way he knew exactly how to touch her, how to make her body sing even when her mind was screaming at her to stop.

“More,” she demanded, her voice a ragged whisper. “I need more.”

He didn’t hesitate. His hands dropped to her waistband, yanking her flight suit and the thin layer of her underwear down her hips in one rough motion. The fabric pooled around her thighs, the cool air hitting her bare pussy, and she spread her legs wider, her heels digging into the small of his back.

“Fuck, you’re soaked,” he groaned, his fingers sliding through her folds, gathering the slick heat of her arousal. “All for me?”

She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. His fingers found her clit, circling the swollen bud with just the right pressure, and her head fell back against the wall with a thud, her hips jerking into his touch.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his mouth finding her throat again, his teeth grazing her skin. “Let me hear you.”

She couldn’t not make noise. Not when his fingers were working her like that, two of them sliding inside her with a slow, deliberate thrust that made her vision blur. She was so full, so tight, and he curled his fingers just right, hitting that spot inside her that made her see stars.

“Joseph—fuck—” she gasped, her nails raking down his back.

“You feel so good,” he growled, his cock twitching against her stomach as he fingered her. “I could make you come just like this. Would you like that? Would you come on my fingers like a good girl?”

The words sent a fresh wave of heat through her, her pussy clenching around his fingers. “Yes—yes—”

His thumb pressed down on her clit, rubbing in tight, relentless circles, and she could feel the orgasm building, coiling tight in her belly. She was so close—so close—

And then he stopped.

She whimpered, her hips chasing his hand, but he pulled back, his fingers glistening with her arousal as he brought them to his mouth. His eyes locked onto hers as he sucked them clean, one by one, the obscene sound of it making her clit throb.

“Not like this,” he said, his voice rough. “I want to feel you come. I want your cunt squeezing my cock when you do.”

She didn’t have the brainpower to argue. She reached between them, wrapping her hand around his shaft again, guiding him to her entrance. The head of his cock pressed against her, hot and heavy, and she rocked her hips, teasing him, teasing herself.

“Stephanie,” he warned, his hands gripping her thighs.

“Fuck me,” she demanded, her voice a ragged whisper. “Now, Joseph. Please.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

In one sharp thrust, he buried himself inside her, filling her completely, stretching her around his thick length. She cried out, her nails digging into his shoulders, her body arching into his. He felt so good—so right—and she hated that, hated how perfectly they fit together, how easily he ruined her.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his forehead pressing against hers. “You feel amazing.”

She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think. All she could do was feel—the way his cock dragged against her inner walls, the way his hips rolled into hers, the way his breath hitched every time she clenched around him.

“Harder,” she gasped, her legs tightening around his waist. “I need it harder.”

He obeyed. His hands gripped her ass, lifting her slightly before slamming back into her, his cock pounding into her with deep, punishing strokes. The sound of their bodies slapping together filled the tunnel, obscene and perfect, and she could feel the orgasm building again, tighter this time, more intense.

“That’s it,” he growled, his mouth finding hers again, his tongue plunging between her lips in time with his thrusts. “Take it. Take all of it.”

She was so close—so close—and then his hand was between them again, his thumb pressing down on her clit, rubbing in tight, relentless circles, and—

“Joseph—I’m—”

“Come for me,” he ordered, his voice a dark command. “Now, Stephanie. Now.”

The orgasm crashed over her, her body locking up as pleasure tore through her, her pussy clenching around his cock in wave after wave of release. She cried out, the sound muffled against his mouth, her nails drawing blood from his shoulders as she rode it out, her hips jerking against his.

Joseph groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic, his cock swelling inside her. “Fuck, Steph—”

And then he was coming too, his release spilling inside her in hot, thick pulses, his body shuddering against hers as he buried his face in her neck, his breath ragged.

For a long moment, neither of them moved. The only sounds were their harsh breathing, the distant beep of the failing systems, the way their hearts pounded in sync.

And then reality came crashing back.

Stephanie’s hands dropped from his shoulders, her body going limp against the wall. Joseph pulled back just enough to look at her, his expression raw, vulnerable.

“We shouldn’t have—” she started, but he cut her off with a kiss, slow and deep, his cock still twitching inside her.

“We needed it,” he murmured against her lips. “And we’ll deal with the rest later.”

She wanted to argue. Wanted to scream. But the ship lurched suddenly, the emergency lights flickering violently, and the moment was gone.

They had a mission to finish.

And a mess to clean up—both literally and figuratively.

Joseph pulled out slowly, his cock glistening with their combined release, and Stephanie couldn’t help but watch as he tucked himself back into his suit, the zipper a sharp snick in the silence. She felt the loss of him immediately, the emptiness between her thighs, the way her body still hummed with the aftershocks of her orgasm. She adjusted her own suit, the fabric sticking to her skin, the crotch damp with his cum and her own arousal. The reality of it sent a fresh wave of heat through her, her cheeks flushing.

Joseph noticed. Of course he did. His gaze darkened as he watched her, his fingers brushing over her hip before he forced himself to step back, putting what little space the tunnel allowed between them.

“We need to finish this,” he said, his voice rough, but his hands were already moving, adjusting the panel she’d been struggling with. The bolt turned easily under his touch, the mechanism finally yielding, and Stephanie felt a fresh surge of frustration—at the bolt, at herself, at the way her body still ached for him even now.

She reached past him, her fingers flying over the controls, rerouting the power supply to bypass the damaged scrubbers. The ship groaned around them, the lights stabilizing, the alarm beeps slowing to a steady, less urgent rhythm.

“There,” she muttered, her voice tighter than she intended. “That should hold until we can get to the main systems.”

Joseph didn’t answer right away. He was watching her, his expression unreadable in the dim light. Then, slowly, he reached out, his thumb brushing over her lower lip, still swollen from his kisses. “Steph—”

She jerked back, her hand flying up to wipe at her mouth, as if she could erase the evidence of what they’d just done. “Don’t. We have work to do.”

His jaw tightened, but he nodded, turning back to the panel. “Then let’s get it done.”

They worked in silence after that, the tension between them a living thing, thick and suffocating. Every brush of their hands, every shift of their bodies in the confined space, was a reminder of what had just happened—of the way he’d felt inside her, of the way she’d begged for him. Stephanie could still taste him on her tongue, still feel the ghost of his fingers on her skin, and it made her hate him. Hate herself. Hate the way her body still wanted more.

The panel finally sealed with a hiss, the life support systems stabilizing, the air cycling back to something breathable. Stephanie exhaled sharply, her shoulders sagging in relief.

“We’re good,” she said, her voice steady despite the way her pulse still raced. “We should—”

Joseph’s hand closed around her wrist before she could finish, his grip firm but not painful. He pulled her back against him, his mouth finding her ear. “We’re not done,” he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. “Not by a long shot.”

She should’ve pulled away. Should’ve told him to go to hell. But the way his cock twitched against her ass, already hardening again, sent a fresh wave of desire through her, her pussy clenching around nothing.

“Later,” she whispered, her voice betraying her. “We’ll deal with this later.”

He chuckled darkly, the sound sending a shiver down her spine. “Oh, we will, Steph. And when we do, I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t walk straight for a week.”

The promise hung between them, heavy and intoxicating, as they made their way back to the main deck, the weight of what was coming pressing down on her with every step.

And for the first time in a long time, Stephanie wasn’t sure she wanted to resist.

Chapter Seven: Breathless Descent

The ship shuddered violently, its groaning metal frame protesting as another alarm blared through the narrow maintenance tunnel. Stephanie barely had time to steady herself against the wall before the AI’s synthetic voice cut through the chaos, cold and unyielding.

“Warning. Secondary life support failure detected in Module 7-B. Atmospheric scrubbers offline. CO₂ levels rising. Immediate manual override required.”

Joseph exhaled sharply, his breath hot against the back of Stephanie’s neck. His hand, still wrapped around her wrist, tightened just enough to pull her flush against him. The heat of his body seared through the thin fabric of her half-unzipped flight suit, a cruel reminder of what they’d just done—what they kept doing, no matter how many times she told herself to stop.

“We don’t have a choice,” he growled, his voice rough with something darker than frustration. His free hand slid up her arm, fingers pressing into the damp fabric clinging to her skin. “Module 7-B. Now.”

Stephanie twisted in his grip, her pulse hammering in her throat. The emergency lights flickered, casting jagged shadows across his face—his jaw clenched, his lips parted just enough to see the glint of his teeth. She could still taste him. Still feel the ghost of his cock stretching her, filling her so completely she’d forgotten how to breathe. And now he was ordering her like she was some rookie under his command.

“Let go of me,” she snapped, yanking her wrist free. The loss of his touch sent a traitorous ache between her thighs.

Joseph didn’t move. His blue eyes burned into hers, dark with something that wasn’t just urgency. “You want to argue, or you want to breathe?”

She swallowed hard. The air was already thicker, the recycled oxygen laced with the metallic tang of sweat and something else—something primal, clinging to both of them. The ship lurched again, and Stephanie’s stomach dropped. She didn’t have time for this. Didn’t have time for him.

“Fine,” she bit out, shoving past him toward the tunnel’s exit. “But we do this my way.”

Joseph’s low chuckle followed her, sending a shiver down her spine. “Baby, we both know that’s a lie.”

Module 7-B was worse than the tunnel.

The space was barely large enough for two people to stand side by side, the walls lined with exposed wiring and flickering control panels. The air here was stagnant, heavy with the acrid scent of overheating machinery. Stephanie’s fingers flew over the diagnostic screen, her mind racing through protocols, but the numbers blurred. CO₂ levels were climbing fast. Too fast.

Joseph crowded in behind her, his chest pressing against her back as he reached around her to flip a switch. The brush of his bare skin—his suit still unzipped from earlier, the fabric gaping open to reveal the hard planes of his torso—sent a jolt through her. She could feel the ridge of his cock through his pants, thick and insistent against her ass.

“Fuck,” she hissed, her concentration shattering.

“Problem?” His breath was a hot whisper against her ear, his lips grazing the shell just enough to make her nipples tighten.

She elbowed him back, but he didn’t budge. “Yeah. You’re in my way.”

Joseph’s hand dropped to her hip, his grip possessive. “You’re tense.” His thumb traced the dip of her waist, slow and deliberate. “Let me help.”

Stephanie’s fingers stilled over the panel. She knew that tone. Knew what it meant when his voice dropped into that dark, velvety register. Her body reacted before her brain could stop it, her thighs pressing together, her breath hitching.

“Joseph—”

“Take off the suit.”

The command was absolute. No room for argument. Stephanie’s head snapped up, her green eyes locking onto his in the dim light. “What?”

His gaze didn’t waver. “It’s too restrictive. You can’t move properly.” His fingers curled into the fabric at her collarbone, tugging just enough to expose the flush creeping down her chest. “Take. It. Off.”

A laugh bubbled up in her throat, sharp and disbelieving. “You’re joking.”

“I don’t joke about safety.” His voice was steel, but his eyes betrayed him—dark and hungry, tracing the line of her zipper like he was already imagining peeling it down. “Unless you’d rather asphyxiate.”

Stephanie’s pulse roared in her ears. She knew this was bullshit. Knew he was pushing her, testing her, seeing how far she’d let him go. But the ship groaned around them, the air thickening by the second, and the rational part of her brain screamed that he wasn’t wrong. The suit was restrictive. The fabric clung to her damp skin, the seams digging in with every movement.

And god, the way he was looking at her—like he’d strip her bare with his teeth if she didn’t do it herself.

Her fingers trembled as she reached for the zipper.

Joseph didn’t move. Didn’t blink. His chest rose and fell with slow, controlled breaths, the muscles shifting under his open suit. The fabric parted just enough to reveal the trail of dark hair disappearing into his waistband, the defined V of his hips. Stephanie’s mouth went dry.

She pulled the zipper down an inch. Then another.

The sound was obscene in the quiet module, the teeth parting with a slow, whispering hiss. Joseph’s nostrils flared. His hand dropped from her hip to her thigh, his fingers splaying over the inside, dangerously close to where she was already wet.

“All the way,” he murmured.

Stephanie’s breath hitched. She should’ve told him to go to hell. Should’ve zipped right back up and shoved him against the wall until he remembered who the fuck was in charge here. But the ship lurched again, the lights flickering, and the reality of their situation crashed over her like a wave.

She dragged the zipper down to her navel.

Joseph’s gaze dropped, his pupils blowing wide as the suit parted to reveal the lace edge of her sports bra, the damp fabric clinging to her breasts. Stephanie’s nipples peaked under his stare, her skin prickling with heat.

“Good girl,” he rumbled.

The praise sent a bolt of liquid fire straight to her core. She hated it. Hated how her body responded to him, how her mind short-circuited when he looked at her like that. Like she was something to be conquered.

Her fingers fumbled with the zipper again, but Joseph’s hand shot out, gripping her wrist.

“Not yet.”

Stephanie’s head snapped up. “What?”

His lips curled into something dark and knowing. Then, slow and deliberate, he reached for the zipper of his own suit.

The sound was louder this time. Aggressive. The fabric parted under his fingers, revealing the hard planes of his chest, the dusting of dark hair, the faint sheen of sweat clinging to his skin. Stephanie’s breath stalled. She’d seen him shirtless before—had run her hands over every inch of him—but this was different. This was a challenge. A dare.

His suit fell open to his waist, the material catching on the thick ridge of his cock straining against his briefs. Stephanie’s tongue darted out, wetting her lower lip before she could stop herself.

Joseph’s gaze locked onto the movement. “Your turn.”

The air between them was electric, charged with something far more dangerous than the failing systems around them. Stephanie’s fingers twitched at her sides. She should have told him to fuck off. Should have zipped herself back up and pretended this wasn’t happening.

But the ship groaned again, the lights dimming to a sickly yellow, and the reality of their situation crashed over her.

She pulled the zipper the rest of the way down.

The suit slithered off her shoulders, pooling at her waist. The cool air hit her exposed skin, her bra doing little to hide the way her nipples had tightened into aching points. Joseph’s breath hitched, his gaze raking over her like a physical touch.

“Fuck, Stephanie.”

She didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Her body was on fire, her skin hypersensitive, every nerve ending screaming for his hands, his mouth, anything. The ship’s alarm blared again, but it felt distant, unimportant. All that mattered was the way Joseph was looking at her—like he was two seconds away from pinning her to the wall and fucking her senseless.

His hand lifted, his knuckles brushing the swell of her breast over the lace. Stephanie’s breath stuttered.

“One more thing,” he murmured.

Before she could react, his fingers hooked into the waistband of her suit and yanked.

The fabric slid down her hips, taking her briefs with it. Stephanie gasped, her hands flying to cover herself, but Joseph caught her wrists, pinning them to her sides.

“Joseph—!”

“Quiet.” His voice was a growl, his eyes dark with something feral. He dropped to his knees in front of her, his breath hot against the damp heat between her thighs. “You’re dripping.”

Stephanie’s legs nearly gave out. The first swipe of his tongue was a shock, a bolt of pleasure so intense her vision whited out. She choked on a moan, her fingers clawing at his shoulders as he dragged his tongue through her folds, slow and deliberate, like he had all the time in the world.

The ship’s alarm wailed, but it was a distant thing, unimportant. All that existed was Joseph’s mouth, his hands gripping her thighs hard enough to bruise, his tongue circling her clit with maddening precision.

“Oh god—”

“Louder,” he demanded, his breath ghosting over her slick flesh. “I want to hear you.”

Stephanie’s head fell back against the wall with a thud. Her hips jerked forward, chasing his mouth, but Joseph pulled back just enough to deny her.

“Joseph, please—”

“Beg me.”

She was going to kill him. Going to shove him onto his back and ride his cock until he couldn’t walk, let alone talk. But the words spilled out of her before she could stop them, desperate and raw.

“Please. Fuck, please—”

Joseph groaned, the sound vibrating against her, and then his mouth was on her again, his tongue spearing into her with deep, punishing strokes. Stephanie cried out, her body tightening, her orgasm coiling tight and brutal in her core.

She was there. Right on the edge. One more flick of his tongue, one more—

Joseph pulled away.

Stephanie’s eyes flew open, her body trembling with denied release. “You bastard—”

He surged to his feet, his cock a thick ridge against her stomach as he crushed his mouth to hers. She could taste herself on his lips, could feel the smirk he didn’t bother to hide.

“Later,” he promised, his voice rough. “Right now, we work.”

Stephanie wanted to scream. Wanted to wrap her legs around him and force him to finish what he’d started. But the ship shuddered again, the diagnostic panel flashing red, and the cold reality of their situation slammed into her.

She was still panting when she turned back to the controls, her body throbbing with unspent need.

Joseph’s hand found her hip again, his fingers digging in possessively.

“After this,” he murmured, his lips brushing her ear, “I’m going to fuck you so hard you forget your own name.”

Stephanie’s fingers flew over the panel, her mind racing, her body aching.

She couldn’t wait.

Chapter Eight: Shipwrecked Desire

The ship groaned around them, its metal skeleton shuddering under the strain of failing systems. The alarms wailed in a relentless, pulsing rhythm, their red glow casting jagged shadows across the cramped walls of Module 7-B. Stephanie’s fingers hovered over the diagnostic panel, her breath still ragged from the way Joseph had left her—aching, exposed, and trembling with denied release. The numbers on the screen blurred as she tried to focus, her body still humming with the ghost of his touch, the wet heat between her thighs a constant, infuriating reminder.

“CO₂ levels are still climbing,” she muttered, her voice tight with frustration. She jabbed at the controls, her movements sharp and precise, but her mind kept flickering back to the way his knuckles had grazed her breast, the way his tongue had—

A large hand clamped over hers, stilling her frantic tapping. Joseph’s body pressed against her back, his chest rising and falling in a slow, deliberate rhythm that contrasted with her own erratic breathing. His other arm snaked around her waist, pulling her flush against him, his lips brushing the shell of her ear as he spoke.

“You’re not focusing.”

Stephanie stiffened, her spine locking against the hard plane of his torso. “We don’t have time for this,” she snapped, but her voice lacked its usual bite. The heat of him seeped through the thin fabric of her sports bra, his fingers splayed possessively over her stomach, just above the waistband of her flight suit. She could feel the rigid outline of his cock through his briefs, pressing into the small of her back, and her traitorous body responded with a fresh wave of heat.

Joseph’s chuckle was low, dark, and entirely too satisfied. “No?” His teeth grazed her earlobe, just hard enough to make her gasp. “Then why are you still wet for me?”

She hated how easily he unraveled her. Hated that her nipples tightened under the thin fabric of her bra, that her thighs clenched together as if seeking friction. The ship’s alarms blared, but all she could hear was the rush of blood in her ears, the slow drag of his fingers as they slid beneath the waistband of her suit, dipping just low enough to tease the damp heat between her legs.

“Joseph—” His name came out as a plea, and she hated that too.

“Say it again.” His voice was a rough command, his breath hot against her neck. “Say my name like that when I’m inside you.”

Stephanie’s hands curled into fists against the panel, her nails biting into her palms. She should’ve pushed him away. Should’ve reminded him of the mission, of the fact that they were seconds away from asphyxiation if the life support didn’t stabilize. But the words died in her throat as his fingers circled her clit, slow and maddening, applying just enough pressure to make her hips jerk forward involuntarily.

“Fuck,” she breathed, her head falling back against his shoulder.

Joseph’s free hand slid up, palming her breast through the thin fabric of her bra, his thumb flicking over her nipple until it ached. “That’s not my name, Stephanie.”

She whimpered, her body arching into his touch despite herself. The alarms were a distant scream now, the flickering emergency lights painting their skin in strobes of red and shadow. His fingers worked her with infuriating precision, two sliding inside her while his thumb kept up that relentless circle over her clit. She was so close—so fucking close—and he knew it. She could hear the smug satisfaction in his voice when he spoke again.

“Beg me to let you come.”

Stephanie’s breath hitched, her nails scraping against the metal panel. She wouldn’t. She refused to give him that, not again, not when he’d already denied her once—

His fingers stilled.

“No—” The word tore out of her before she could stop it, raw and desperate.

Joseph’s lips curled against her neck. “Then say my name.”

She swallowed hard, her pulse hammering in her throat. “Joseph.”

“Again.” His fingers resumed their slow, torturous rhythm, and she moaned, her body betraying her completely.

“Joseph, please—”

His teeth sank into the tender skin where her neck met her shoulder, just shy of painful, and she cried out, her hips rolling against his hand. “Please what, Stephanie?”

She was going to kill him. She was going to fucking kill him.

“Please let me come.”

His chuckle vibrated against her skin as his fingers picked up speed, driving her higher, tighter, until she was panting, her body coiled like a spring. “Since you asked so nicely.”

The orgasm crashed over her with brutal force, her vision whiting out as her body convulsed around his fingers. She would’ve collapsed if not for his arm banded around her waist, holding her upright as wave after wave of pleasure wrung her out. Her moan was long and broken, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she rode out the last tremors.

Joseph didn’t give her time to recover.

Before she could even catch her breath, he spun her around, pressing her back against the wall. His mouth crashed onto hers, his kiss hungry and demanding, swallowing her startled gasp. His hands were everywhere—cupping her face, tangling in her hair, sliding down to grip her ass and haul her against him. She could taste herself on his lips, could feel the thick, insistent ridge of his cock grinding against her hip.

Stephanie broke the kiss with a sharp inhale, her palms flat against his chest. “We can’t—”

“We can.” His voice was a growl, his eyes dark with something feral. “And we will.”

She tried to shove him back, but he didn’t budge. Instead, his hands dropped to the waistband of her flight suit, yanking it down her hips with enough force that she had to step out of it or risk toppling over. The cool air of the module hit her bare skin, raising goosebumps, but the heat in Joseph’s gaze burned hotter.

“Joseph, the ship—”

“The ship can wait five fucking minutes.” His hands were on her thighs now, lifting her effortlessly. “Wrap your legs around me.”

Stephanie hesitated for half a second before her body obeyed, her legs locking around his waist. The position left her exposed, her underwear the only thing between her and the thick length of him straining against his briefs. His hands gripped her ass, fingers digging into her flesh as he ground her against him, the friction making her gasp.

“You feel that?” His voice was rough, his breath coming faster now. “You feel how hard you make me?”

She did. God, she did. The ridge of his cock pressed against her core, separated by nothing but two thin layers of fabric, and she could feel how wet she was, how ready. Her body remembered the stretch of him inside her, the way he filled her so completely she couldn’t think straight.

Joseph’s mouth found hers again, his kiss bruising as he walked her backward until her shoulders hit the wall. The impact knocked the breath from her lungs, but she barely noticed, too focused on the way his hips rolled against hers, the way his cock dragged against her clit with every movement. She was already sensitive from her orgasm, her nerves alight, and the sensation sent a fresh jolt of desire through her.

“Joseph—” His name was a whine this time, needy and broken.

He pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his eyes burning with something dark and possessive. “You’re mine, Stephanie. Say it.”

She should’ve argued. Should’ve told him to go to hell. But the way he was looking at her, the way his body pinned hers to the wall, the way his cock twitched against her—she couldn’t lie. Not now.

“Yours.”

A growl rumbled in his chest as his mouth crashed onto hers again, his tongue sweeping in deep and claiming. His hands shifted, one sliding between them to yank her underwear aside while the other fumbled with the waistband of his briefs. The sound of fabric tearing was loud in the small space, but neither of them cared. Stephanie’s breath hitched as she felt the hot, bare length of him press against her, the tip already slick with pre-cum.

“Fuck,” Joseph groaned against her lips, his forehead pressing to hers. “No condom.”

Stephanie’s fingers dug into his shoulders. “Don’t care.”

He didn’t hesitate. With one rough thrust, he was inside her, stretching her open in a way that made her see stars. She cried out, her nails raking down his back as her body struggled to adjust. He was big, thicker than she remembered, and the burn of him filling her was almost too much.

“Joseph—fuck—”

“Shhh.” His voice was a dark murmur against her ear as he began to move, his thrusts slow and deep at first, giving her time to take him. “Just feel me, Stephanie. Feel how good we are together.”

She couldn’t argue. Not when he was buried inside her like this, not when every drag of his cock against her walls sent sparks through her nerves. Her legs tightened around him, her heels digging into his ass as she urged him deeper. The alarms were still blaring, the ship still groaning around them, but none of it mattered. There was only this—the slick, desperate sounds of their bodies moving together, the way his breath hitched when she clenched around him, the way his fingers bit into her hips hard enough to bruise.

His pace picked up, his thrusts growing sharper, more demanding. The wall at her back kept her in place as he fucked her, each snap of his hips driving a broken moan from her lips. She could feel another orgasm building, coiling tight in her belly, and from the way his breath came in ragged bursts, she knew he was close too.

“Come for me,” he growled, his teeth sinking into her shoulder. “Come on my cock, Stephanie.”

The command sent her over the edge. Her back arched as pleasure ripped through her, her body clamping down around him as she cried out. Joseph groaned, his thrusts turning erratic as he chased his own release. Two more deep, punishing strokes, and then he was coming inside her, his cock pulsing as he spilled hot and thick.

For a long moment, neither of them moved. Joseph’s forehead rested against hers, his breath coming in harsh gasps as he stayed buried inside her. Stephanie’s fingers trembled where they clutched at his shoulders, her body still humming with the aftershocks of her orgasm.

The ship chose that moment to lurch violently, the sudden movement sending them both stumbling. Joseph cursed, his hands tightening on her waist as he steadied them. The alarms were still blaring, the CO₂ levels flashing red on the panel behind her.

Stephanie exhaled sharply, her cheeks flushing as reality crashed back in. “We need to finish the repair. Now.”

Joseph pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he set her down, his cock slipping free with a wet sound that made her face burn. He didn’t say anything as he adjusted his briefs, his movements deliberate, almost lazy, as if they hadn’t just been fucking against the wall like animals.

Stephanie yanked her flight suit back up, her hands shaking as she zipped it. The fabric was damp in places, sticking to her skin, and she could feel the slickness between her thighs with every movement. She refused to meet his eyes as she turned back to the panel, her fingers flying over the controls.

The ship groaned again, but the alarms finally began to quiet as the systems stabilized. Stephanie exhaled in relief, her shoulders sagging.

Joseph’s voice was a low rumble behind her. “We’re not done, Stephanie.”

She didn’t turn around. “We have to check the other modules.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

She knew. God, she knew. But she couldn’t bring herself to face him. Not yet.

Instead, she straightened her spine and reached for the toolkit. “Then you’d better keep up, Klein.”

Chapter Nine: Weightless Surrender

The air in the command module still hummed with the faint, rhythmic pulse of the ship’s struggling systems, the blue emergency lights casting long, shifting shadows across the consoles. Stephanie’s fingers hovered over the diagnostic panel, her breath still uneven from the way Joseph had just fucked her against the wall—hard, possessive, like he was trying to brand her from the inside out. Her thighs ached, her skin still prickling with the ghost of his touch, the slick heat between her legs a constant, maddening reminder of how thoroughly he’d ruined her focus.

She exhaled sharply through her nose, forcing her attention back to the flickering display. The coolant leak in Sector 4 wasn’t going to fix itself, no matter how badly she wanted to pretend otherwise. The numbers blurred for a second, her vision swimming as another aftershock of pleasure rippled through her. Goddamn it. She pressed her palms against the console, grounding herself, but the metal was cool beneath her fingers, doing little to distract from the way her body still throbbed, still wanted—

“You’re thinking too hard.”

Joseph’s voice was low, rough, the kind of tone that slid under her skin and settled in her bones. She didn’t look at him. Couldn’t. Not when she could still feel the imprint of his hands on her hips, the way he’d pinned her, the way he’d owned her with nothing but his body and that infuriating, commanding growl of yours.

“Go away,” she muttered, tapping a sequence into the terminal. The system beeped in protest, the error code flashing red. “I’m working.”

A chuckle, dark and knowing, vibrated against her shoulder as he leaned in, his chest brushing her back. The heat of him was overwhelming, his bare skin still damp with sweat from their last encounter. She could smell him—musky, male, the faint tang of salt and something uniquely him—and it made her stomach clench.

“You’re overthinking,” he corrected, his breath warm against the shell of her ear. “And you’re still tense. I can feel it.”

His hand settled on her waist, fingers splaying possessively over her hipbone, and she jerked away before she could stop herself. The movement sent her drifting back a few inches, her body instinctively recoiling even as her traitorous nerves lit up at the contact.

“Don’t,” she snapped, but her voice lacked conviction. She was too aware of him—of the way his cock had felt inside her, thick and relentless, of the way his mouth had swallowed her moans like he was starving for them. Of the way he’d denied her before, leaving her trembling and empty, only to take her even harder the second time.

Joseph didn’t retreat. Of course he didn’t. He never did. Instead, his fingers traced the curve of her ass, slow and deliberate, before sliding up the dip of her spine. She shivered, her nipples tightening despite herself.

“You’re frustrated,” he murmured, his lips brushing the sensitive skin just below her ear. “And not just because of the ship.”

Stephanie clenched her jaw. “I’m fine.”

“Liar.”

His other hand joined the first, both now mapping the landscape of her body like he had every right to it. Like she was already his. His thumbs pressed into the small of her back, kneading the tension there, and she hated how good it felt, how her muscles melted under his touch even as her mind screamed at her to pull away.

“You want more,” he said, his voice a rough purr. “You’re still aching for it.”

She swallowed hard, her pulse hammering in her throat. “I want to fix the damn ship.”

“Mmm.” His hands slid around to her stomach, pulling her back against him. She could feel him hardening against her ass, the thick ridge of his cock already stirring to life again. “But you need this.”

His teeth grazed her earlobe, just shy of a bite, and she gasped, her hips betraying her by arching into him. His chuckle was a dark, satisfied sound, his fingers dipping lower, teasing the damp curls between her thighs.

“Stop,” she breathed, but her body was already responding, her legs parting slightly, giving him access.

“No.”

The word was final. A command. His fingers slipped between her folds, finding her slick and swollen, and she moaned before she could stop herself, her head falling back against his shoulder.

“Fuck,” she whimpered, her hands scrambling for purchase on the console. The ship’s alarm blared again, a jarring reminder of where they were, what they were supposed to be doing, but it felt distant, unimportant. Not when Joseph’s fingers were circling her clit, slow and maddening, not when his cock was thick and heavy against her ass, promising more.

“You’re dripping,” he growled, his free hand sliding up to palm her breast, his thumb flicking over her nipple. “Still so fucking sensitive. Still mine.”

She should’ve pushed him away. Should’ve reminded him of the mission, of the fact that they were working, that this was reckless, irresponsible—

But then his fingers pressed deeper, two of them sinking inside her with a slow, deliberate thrust, and her thoughts dissolved into static.

“Joseph—” His name came out as a broken gasp, her hips rocking against his hand, her body already chasing the release he’d denied her before.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his lips trailing down her neck, his teeth scraping lightly over her pulse point. “Take what you need.”

His fingers curled inside her, hitting that spot that made her see stars, and she cried out, her nails digging into the console. The ship’s systems beeped in protest, the lights flickering again, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. Not when Joseph’s cock was now sliding against her ass, hot and heavy, not when his other hand was rolling her nipple between his fingers, sending jolts of pleasure straight to her core.

“Please—” She didn’t even know what she was begging for. More. Everything.

“Not here,” he said abruptly, his voice rough with restraint. His fingers withdrew, leaving her empty and whimpering, her body already mourning the loss.

“What?” She turned her head, glaring at him over her shoulder. “You’re kidding—”

His expression was dark, hungry, his blue eyes burning with an intensity that made her stomach flip. “The training module. Zero-g.”

Her breath hitched. The zero-gravity module. The one place on the ship where they could truly let go, where gravity wouldn’t dictate their movements, where they could—

“Now,” he said, his voice leaving no room for argument. He gave her ass a sharp slap, the sound echoing in the small space, and she yelped, more from surprise than pain.

“Joseph, we can’t just—”

“We can.” His hands were already on her waist, propelling her toward the module’s entrance. “And we will.”

She should’ve argued. Should’ve dug in her heels, reminded him of their responsibilities, of the fact that they were astronauts, not just two people consumed by lust. But the truth was, she wanted this. Wanted him. Wanted to feel weightless in every sense of the word, wanted to lose herself in the surreal, dreamlike freedom of zero-g, where the rules of the world below didn’t apply.

The module’s hatch hissed open as they approached, the dim blue lighting spilling out into the corridor. Joseph didn’t hesitate. He pushed her inside, following close behind, and the hatch sealed behind them with a soft thunk.

The moment the artificial gravity cut out, Stephanie’s stomach lurched, that familiar weightless sensation washing over her. She floated for a second, disoriented, before Joseph’s hands were on her again, steadying her. His touch was sure, grounding, even as the world around them lost all sense of up or down.

“Better?” he asked, his voice a low rumble.

She didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Not when he was pulling her against him, their bodies pressing together in the weightless void, not when his cock was already hard and insistent against her stomach.

His mouth crashed onto hers before she could protest, his kiss hungry, demanding. She moaned into it, her hands tangling in his hair as their bodies twisted together, drifting slowly in the center of the module. There was no resistance here, no friction to fight against—just the two of them, suspended in the dark, their breaths mingling, their skin sliding together with every movement.

Joseph’s hands roamed over her, mapping her body like he was memorizing every curve. His fingers traced the dip of her waist, the flare of her hips, the sensitive undersides of her breasts. She arched into his touch, her nipples hardening under his palms, her body already aching for more.

“God, you’re perfect,” he murmured against her lips, his voice rough with desire. “Every fucking inch of you.”

She should’ve rolled her eyes at the cheesy line, but the way he said it—like he meant it, like he was worshipping her with his hands and his mouth—made her heart stutter in her chest.

His lips trailed down her neck, his teeth grazing her collarbone before his mouth closed over one nipple. She gasped, her back arching, her fingers tightening in his hair. The sensation was different here, in zero-g—every touch, every lick, every suck felt amplified, like her nerves were more sensitive, her body more attuned to his.

“Joseph—” His name was a plea, a prayer, her voice trembling with need.

He switched to her other breast, his tongue swirling around her nipple before he drew it into his mouth, sucking hard. She cried out, her hips jerking against him, her pussy throbbing with empty, desperate heat.

“Please,” she whimpered, her hands sliding down his chest, her fingers wrapping around his cock. He was thick, heavy in her grip, the veins pulsing under her touch. “I need you inside me.”

He groaned, his hips bucking into her hand, but then he was pulling back, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “Not yet.”

She blinked, her vision swimming. “What?”

His hands went to the waistband of her flight suit, his fingers working the fastenings with practiced ease. “Strip. Now.”

The command sent a shiver down her spine. She hesitated for only a second before complying, her fingers fumbling with the seals of her suit. The material peeled away from her skin, floating off into the darkness as she kicked free of it, leaving her completely naked in the weightless void.

Joseph’s gaze raked over her, dark and hungry, his own suit already discarded, his cock standing thick and proud between them. She reached for him again, but he caught her wrists, pinning them above her head with one hand.

“My turn,” he growled, his free hand sliding down her body, his fingers parting her folds, finding her already wet and ready for him.

She gasped as his fingers slipped inside her, his thumb pressing against her clit in slow, maddening circles. “Oh god—”

“You’re soaked,” he murmured, his lips brushing hers. “So fucking ready for me.”

She could only whimper in response, her body arching into his touch, her hips rolling against his hand. The lack of gravity made every movement fluid, effortless, her body weightless in his grip as he played her like an instrument.

His fingers withdrew, leaving her empty and whimpering, but before she could protest, he was spinning her around, his hands on her hips guiding her. She gasped as her back pressed against the module’s wall, her body floating just above the surface, her legs spreading instinctively as Joseph positioned himself between them.

“Hold on,” he ordered, his voice rough with desire.

She barely had time to brace herself before his mouth was on her, his tongue dragging through her folds in one long, slow lick. She cried out, her fingers scrambling for purchase on the smooth wall, her body arching into his face.

“Fuck—Joseph—!”

His chuckle vibrated against her, his breath hot on her sensitive skin. “You taste incredible,” he murmured, before his mouth closed over her clit, sucking hard.

Her vision whited out for a second, pleasure crashing through her in waves. His tongue worked her expertly, swirling and flicking, his fingers digging into her thighs as he held her open for him. She was completely at his mercy, her body floating, her movements dictated by his touch, his mouth, his will.

“Please, don’t stop—” she begged, her voice breaking. “I’m so close—”

He pulled back just enough to speak, his breath ghosting over her wet flesh. “Not yet.”

She whimpered in frustration, her hips trying to chase his mouth, but he held her still, his grip unyielding.

“Joseph, please—”

“Patience,” he murmured, his lips brushing her inner thigh. “I want to hear you scream when you come. I want you begging for it.”

She groaned, her head falling back against the wall. “I am begging.”

His chuckle was dark, satisfied. “Not enough.”

His mouth returned to her, his tongue delving deeper, his fingers joining the assault. Two of them slipped inside her, curling against that spot that made her see stars, his thumb pressing against her clit in tight, relentless circles.

She was babbling now, her words dissolving into broken gasps and moans, her body trembling on the edge. “Joseph—please—I can’t—I need—”

“Come for me,” he commanded, his voice a rough growl against her pussy. “Now.”

The orgasm crashed over her like a wave, her body convulsing, her cry echoing in the small module. Her thighs clenched around his head, her fingers clawing at the wall as pleasure ripped through her, leaving her boneless and trembling in its wake.

Joseph didn’t give her time to recover. Before she could even catch her breath, he was flipping her over, his hands on her hips guiding her onto her hands and knees. She floated there, her ass presented to him, her body still humming from her climax.

His cock pressed against her entrance, thick and insistent, and she moaned, pushing back against him. “Yes—please—”

He didn’t make her wait. With one sharp thrust, he was inside her, filling her completely, his cock stretching her in the most delicious way. She cried out, her fingers curling against the wall, her body already adjusting to his size, her muscles clenching around him.

“Fuck, you feel amazing,” he groaned, his hands gripping her hips as he began to move. “So tight. So perfect.”

She could only whimper in response, her body already building toward another climax. The angle was different here, in zero-g—deeper, somehow, his cock hitting spots she didn’t even know she had. Every thrust sent her drifting slightly, her body floating with the momentum, her movements completely dictated by his.

His hands slid up her back, one tangling in her hair, the other wrapping around her throat, pulling her up against him. His chest was hot against her back, his cock buried deep inside her, his breath rough in her ear.

“You’re mine, Stephanie,” he growled, his hips snapping against hers. “Say it.”

She was too far gone to argue. Too lost in the sensation of him, in the way he filled her, owned her, ruined her.

“Yours,” she gasped, her body clenching around him. “Only yours.”

His grip on her throat tightened just slightly, his thrusts growing harder, more demanding. “Again.”

“Yours—!” she cried, her orgasm crashing over her, her body convulsing around his cock, milking him as he buried himself to the hilt inside her.

His own release followed seconds later, his cock pulsing as he came deep inside her, his groan raw and guttural against her ear. They floated there for a long moment, their bodies tangled together, their breaths mingling in the weightless silence.

When he finally pulled out, his cum dripping from her, she could only whimper, her body boneless and sated. He turned her to face him, his hands cradling her face as he kissed her—slow, deep, possessive.

“We’re not done,” he murmured against her lips, his voice a promise.

And she believed him.

Chapter Ten: Gravity’s Surrender

The weightless silence of the zero-gravity module cradled them, their bodies still tangled in the lingering haze of their last climax. Stephanie floated, her limbs loose, her breath slow and deep as she stared at the viewport. Earth hung there—vibrant, fragile—a swirl of blues and whites against the endless black, the continents and oceans shifting like a living thing beneath the thin veil of atmosphere. She reached out instinctively, her fingers brushing the cold glass as if she could press through it, as if she could touch the planet itself. The contrast was staggering—the way something so vast could look so delicate from here, suspended in the void.

Joseph watched her, his gaze tracing the curve of her spine, the way her muscles still trembled with residual pleasure. He’d seen that look before—the way her sharp green eyes softened when she forgot herself, when the immensity of space stripped away everything but wonder. It was the same expression she wore now, her lips parted, her chest rising and falling with something like reverence. The mission, the ship’s failing systems, the endless checklists—none of it existed in this moment. There was only the view, only the quiet hum of the module, only the way her skin still glistened with sweat, the scent of sex clinging to both of them.

He didn’t speak. Words would’ve shattered the fragile spell. Instead, he hooked an arm around her waist and pulled her back against him, her skin slick and warm, her ass pressing against the thick, insistent ridge of his cock. She gasped, her fingers splaying against the viewport as he aligned their bodies, his breath hot against the shell of her ear. The movement sent a ripple through her, her nipples tightening, her thighs pressing together before parting just enough to invite him in.

“You love it, don’t you?” His voice was rough, low, the kind of sound that vibrated through her bones. “Floating here like this. Like nothing else exists.”

Stephanie swallowed, her pulse fluttering in her throat. She could lie. She could pretend this was just physical, just stress relief, just another way to pass the time in the endless stretch between missions. But the truth was there, written in the way her body leaned into his, the way her breath hitched when his cock twitched against her.

“It’s…” She hesitated, searching for the word. “Freeing.”

Joseph chuckled, the sound dark and knowing. “Not as freeing as this.” He rocked his hips forward just enough to let her feel him, thick and heavy between her thighs. Her breath caught, her body already responding, her pussy clenching around nothing, aching to be filled. She could feel the wetness gathering, the way her body betrayed her with how ready it was.

“Joseph—” she started, but he cut her off with a sharp nip to her shoulder, his teeth sinking in just enough to make her gasp.

“Look at it,” he commanded, his hand sliding up to grip her throat—not tight, just possessive, his thumb brushing her jaw. “Look at Earth while I fuck you.”

The words sent a shiver through her, her nipples hardening into painful points. She should’ve argued. Should’ve reminded him of the ship’s failing oxygen recyclers, of the repairs still waiting, of the fact that they were supposed to be working. But the view stretched out before her, infinite and humbling, and his cock was a brand against her skin, his fingers digging into her hip with promise. The contrast was intoxicating—the vast, indifferent universe outside, and the raw, personal heat of him behind her.

She didn’t say no.

Joseph didn’t give her the chance to change her mind. He guided her forward until her palms pressed flat against the viewport, her cheek resting against the cool glass. The position arched her back, offering herself to him, and he groaned at the sight—the way her ass lifted, the way her thighs parted just enough to tease him, the way the dim light of the module caught the slickness between her legs.

“Fuck, you’re perfect like this,” he muttered, his hand sliding down to grip her hip, his fingers pressing into the soft flesh. His cock slid between her thighs, not entering yet, just teasing, the head dragging through her wetness, gathering it, spreading it. Stephanie whimpered, her fingers curling against the glass, her nails scraping faintly. She could see her own reflection in the viewport—her flushed face, her parted lips, the way her eyes were already glazing over with need.

“Please,” she breathed, and he could hear the conflict in her voice—the way she still fought it, even now. Even when her body was already begging for him.

“Please what?” He pressed closer, his cock notching against her entrance but not pushing in, just threatening to. “Use your words, Stephanie. Tell me exactly what you want.”

She exhaled sharply, her forehead pressing harder against the viewport. The glass fogged where her breath hit it. “Fuck me.”

Joseph’s grip tightened, his fingers digging into her skin. “Louder.” His voice was a growl, rough with want. “I want to hear you say it like you mean it.”

Her breath hitched, her body tensing before she snapped, “Fuck me,” her voice raw, almost angry. “Goddamnit, Joseph, fuck me already.”

That was all he needed.

He surged forward in one deep, relentless thrust, burying himself to the hilt. Stephanie cried out, the sound torn from her throat as her body stretched around him, the sudden fullness stealing her breath. The viewport fogged further where her mouth pressed against it, her fingers scrambling for purchase as he set a brutal pace from the first stroke. There was no gentleness, no buildup—just the raw, desperate need to claim her, to remind her who she belonged to.

“Oh—fuck—” she gasped, her voice breaking. The angle was relentless, his cock hitting that spot inside her that made her see stars, her vision blurring at the edges. Earth spun beyond the glass, a silent witness to how thoroughly he was ruining her. The contrast was obscene—the serene beauty of the planet, the way it looked untouched, pristine, while she was being fucked against it, her body taking every inch of him, her moans filling the module.

Joseph groaned, his hips snapping forward, his balls slapping against her with each thrust. The sound was wet, obscene, the slap of skin on skin echoing in the confined space. “You take me so fucking well,” he growled, his hand sliding from her hip to her clit, his fingers finding the swollen bundle of nerves. “Even when you’re trying to be stubborn. Even when you’re thinking too much.” He circled her clit, pressing just hard enough to make her jerk, her thighs trembling. “You can’t help it, can you? Your body knows what it wants.”

Stephanie moaned, her voice breaking. “I—I can’t—”

“You can,” he countered, his voice a dark promise. “You’re going to come for me again, and you’re going to watch it happen.” He nodded toward the viewport, his lips brushing her ear. “Look at it. Look at how small we are. How insignificant. And then remember how good it feels to be mine.”

She whimpered, her gaze flickering to the planet below. It was surreal—her body being claimed so thoroughly while the world she’d left behind hung there, oblivious. The contrast made her head spin, her orgasm coiling tight and inevitable, her muscles locking up with the effort of holding back.

Joseph felt it, too—the way her walls fluttered around him, the way her breath came in short, desperate gasps. He leaned over her, his chest pressing against her back, his lips brushing her ear. “That’s it,” he murmured, his voice rough. “Let go. There’s nothing else. Just this. Just us.”

His fingers worked her clit in tight, relentless circles, his cock pistoning into her with a rhythm that left no room for thought, no space for resistance. Stephanie’s vision whited out, her body locking up as the orgasm crashed over her. She screamed, the sound raw and broken, her pussy clenching around him so hard it wrenched a groan from deep in his chest. She could feel him everywhere—inside her, around her, his breath hot on her skin, his grip bruising, his voice a dark murmur in her ear.

“Fuck—” Joseph hissed, his own release barreling down on him. He buried his face against her neck, his teeth sinking into her shoulder as he came, his cock pulsing deep inside her. Stephanie felt it—the hot rush of him filling her, the way his body shuddered against hers, his grip tightening almost painfully before he forced himself to relax, his forehead pressing against the back of her neck.

For a long moment, there was nothing but the sound of their ragged breathing, the distant hum of the ship’s struggling life support, the endless expanse of space beyond the glass. The silence was thick, heavy with the weight of what they’d just done, with the way the universe seemed to hold its breath around them.

Joseph didn’t pull out. He stayed buried inside her, his arms wrapping around her waist, holding her flush against him. Stephanie’s limbs felt heavy, her mind pleasantly blank, her body still thrumming with aftershocks. She turned her head slightly, her lips brushing his jaw. “We should…” she started, but her voice trailed off. The words get back to work died on her tongue. Because what was the point? The ship could wait. The universe could wait.

Joseph understood. He pressed a kiss to her temple, his cock still half-hard inside her. “We will,” he murmured. “But not yet.”

Stephanie exhaled, her body relaxing into his. The view of Earth stretched out before them, a reminder of how small they were—and yet, in this moment, how alive. How connected. She could feel his heartbeat against her back, the way his breath synchronized with hers, the way his fingers traced idle patterns on her skin.

Joseph’s hands slid up her body, cupping her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her nipples. She arched into the touch, a soft sound escaping her. “Again?” she asked, though her voice held no real protest. Her body was already responding, her nipples hardening under his touch, her pussy fluttering around him.

He chuckled, low and dark. “Always again.”

This time, he took his time. His hands explored her—palming her breasts, rolling her nipples between his fingers until she was gasping, her back arching. He pulled out slowly, his cock dragging against her sensitive walls, making her whimper at the loss. But before she could protest, he turned her in the weightlessness, his hands guiding her until she was facing him, her legs wrapping around his waist. The viewport was still there, Earth still spinning beyond them, but now she could see him—the way his eyes burned into hers, the way his muscles flexed as he held her, the way his cock jutted between them, glistening with her arousal.

“Watch me,” he ordered, his voice rough. He guided himself back inside her, inch by slow inch, his gaze never leaving hers. Stephanie moaned, her nails digging into his shoulders, her body stretching around him again. It was different like this—deeper, somehow. More intimate. She could see every flicker of pleasure in his face, the way his jaw tightened, the way his breath hitched when she clenched around him.

“You feel that?” he asked, his voice a growl. “You feel how good you take me?”

She nodded, her voice lost to the sensation, her body moving with his, her hips rolling in slow, deep circles. The module spun lazily around them, the viewport shifting, Earth disappearing from view for a moment before coming back into focus. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but the way he filled her, the way his hands gripped her ass, the way his mouth crashed onto hers, his kiss hungry, demanding.

Stephanie broke the kiss with a gasp, her head falling back as he thrust deeper. “Harder,” she begged, her voice breathless. “I want it harder.”

Joseph didn’t need to be told twice. He pinned her against the viewport, her back pressing against the glass, her breasts flattened between them. The cold surface made her gasp, but the heat of him overwhelmed it, his cock driving into her with a force that made her see stars. She could feel every ridge of him, the way he stretched her, the way her body melted around him.

“Like that?” he growled, his voice rough. “You want me to fuck you like you’re mine?”

“Yes—” she cried, her nails raking down his back. “I’m yours, I’m yours—”

He groaned, his pace becoming punishing, his cock slamming into her with a rhythm that left no room for anything but sensation. Stephanie’s moans filled the module, her body trembling, her orgasm building again, faster this time, more intense. She could feel it in the way her muscles locked, in the way her breath came in short, desperate gasps.

“Come for me,” Joseph demanded, his voice a dark command. “Now, Stephanie. Now.”

She shattered, her body clenching around him, her scream echoing in the confined space. Joseph followed her over the edge, his release tearing through him, his cock pulsing deep inside her as he came with a groan, his body shuddering against hers.

They stayed like that for a long moment, their bodies still connected, their breaths slowly steadying. The viewport showed Earth again, still spinning, still indifferent. But here, in this small, floating world they’d created, nothing else mattered.

Joseph pressed a kiss to her forehead, his hands sliding down to grip her waist. “We should get back,” he murmured, though neither of them moved.

Stephanie nodded, but her body stayed relaxed against his, her legs still wrapped around him. “Five more minutes,” she whispered.

Joseph chuckled, his lips brushing her temple. “Five more minutes.”

And as the ship drifted on, as the stars burned cold and distant beyond the glass, they let the world wait. Because some things were more important than missions. Some things were more important than anything.