Their touches are innocent at first: a gentle hand on the small of her back to guide her, a helping hand to steady her as she steps off a Raptor.

They become bolder: a hand on her thigh under the table during meetings, fingers stroking against the boundary formed by the hem of her skirt; the hand on her back slipping lower, discreetly brushing against her ass.

It culminates in this: his hands grasping the back of her thighs as he picks her up, pressing her back against the bulkhead. She wraps her legs tightly around him as they kiss passionately, desperately. Their disheveled clothing pushed aside until he thrusts into her roughly; the urgency of their need causing their coupling to be frantic, almost violent.

She holds back her scream of release as he bites the junction of her neck and shoulder during a particularly deep thrust, feels his thrusting become erratic as her walls clench around him. His cry of her name echoes loudly around the room as he comes, spilling inside her.

"That's just what I needed," he murmurs as he gently lowers her to the floor.

"Me too," she agrees, "we should do it again sometime, Captain."