Page 23 of Stalked By the Pilot

“Yes,” I moan as I slurp her up before I stand and position myself at her entrance.

I’m inside her in one swift thrust, and then I’m plunging into her relentlessly. I can’t stop. Fuck, I can’t stop. Kate’s pussy is still the most perfect thing on this planet.

The intensity builds, a crescendo that mirrors the dramatic roles she plays, only this—us—is real and raw and infinitely more satisfying.

"Kate," I groan, the familiar pressure mounting at the base of my spine. Our bodies move in perfect sync, pushing and pulling until I feel her pussy pulse around me, spiraling me into my own climax.

I dump my seed inside her, gasping as if I’ve run a marathon while her pussy continues to flutter around me.

As we come down from the high, I collapse beside her, our sweat-slicked bodies entwined. We're silent for a long moment, just breathing each other in. The peace of our Italian villa surrounds us, but it's the tranquility in Kate's eyes that truly calms my soul.

"Best co-pilot ever," I murmur, kissing her temple.

"Best captain," she counters, her smile sleepy and content.

We lie there, the night wrapping around us like a blanket, our dreams taking flight on the wings of our shared passions and the love that keeps our hearts airborne.

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