You Can Leave Your Hat On: Captain Steve x Reader (LA to Vegas) - NSFW
Tagging: @kmc1989 @mandy426 @wwemcumuscleslover
Summary: Captain Steve fucks a hell of a lot different to Captain Dave.
Companion piece to:
Request For Landing - Captain Dave isn't the only pilot that shares your bed...
Captain Steve fucks.
He’s ruthless, commanding and everything that Captain Dave isn’t, which is the reason you alternate between the two when you’re home in LA. You get both the sugar and the spice.
And right now, you’re getting a lot of fucking spice as Captain Steve fucks you from behind, your ass glowing with his palm prints as your hands grasp the sheets. His tie is looped around your throat, the soft fabric acting like a collar as he pistons into you, yanking it like leash with every thrust as he hammers that sweet spot.
He has a thing about disobedience, and you like to be a bad, bad girl.
“Keep your head up sweetheart.” He barks, his hand striking you again. The sound reverberates through the room, sending a deviant thrill through your nervous system. “That hat needs to stay on if you want to come.”
He’s talking about your pilot’s hat, the one you were wearing when he swept into the apartment, sat on the edge of the bed, unfastened the cuffs of his shirt and told you to get on your hands and knees and crawl to him.
You keep your head up, the hat balanced as his hand reaches under you, his fingers trace circles over your clit as he picks up the pace, teeth grinding as he tries to stave off his own release. He winds the tie another notch around his fist and a strangled cry erupts from deep in your chest as the rapture hits you like a wildfire, chasing through your veins like a narcotic as you clench around his dick.
He comes with a guttural curse, his release bursting into the condom as you milk his cock for every last drop. His fingers seek out the knot of the tie, tugging it free from your neck before he tosses it from the bed. There’s a fleeting red mark that’ll be gone by the morning and so will he on his flight back to Canada.
“You got another in you?” He murmurs as he pulls out. He removes the condom, tying it in a knot before he lobs it into the trashcan alongside your dressing table.
This is the other thing about Captain Steve; he can go all night if you let him. You reach into the nightstand for another condom, and he smirks as he drapes himself over you, grasping the expensive lube he brought with him a few weeks ago.
“Oh honey.” He drawls, kissing a heated trail down along the length of your spine. “I’m gonna be coming in your ass this time.”
