Archive of Our Own ^beta

Even though she knew it would happen, she couldn’t help but feel disappointed when Caleb told her he was returning to Skyhaven.

As she gives the ice cream to Caleb, she pinches the palm of his right hand.

“What was that for?”

“I’m sharing my disappointment. You’re leaving and we barely spent a whole day together.”

“So you’re measuring it by pain? In that case, you might as well pinch harder.” He offers up his right arm as if to let her pinch all of it. “Consider it… compensation for not being able to stick around?”

“Who willingly asks for pain? When will you be back in Linkon?”

“Hmm… I’ll sort it all out today and return by tomorrow. Better?”

Her disappointment instantly vanishes. She suppresses a smile and slaps Caleb’s palm.

“Ouch, that really hurt.”

“Ow… I also felt it.”

“So, what was that for?”

She hides her hands behind her back, hiding the surge of anticipation bubbling inside her.

“Take a guess.”

After a lonely dinner, the lights along the street turn on. She gets in a taxi, ready to head home. The nine o’clock chime comes through the radio.

Returning from the station, Caleb’s absence weighs heavily on her. Still, she eagerly looks forward to tomorrow. The sting of their brief separation is unbearable. She can’t help but wish Caleb is feeling the same way she does.

“Three hours ago, the Coelum Express bound for Skyhaven, experienced an unexpected Protocore energy fluctuation. The cause remains unknown. Several passengers were injured and have been transported to the Willow Medical Center…”

Was Caleb on that train?!

She tries calling Caleb, but he doesn’t answer the phone after two rings. She pauses and tries calling him again.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Unable to call Caleb, she calls Gideon and finally gets caught up to speed.

“He contained the energy fluctuation with his Evol. Otherwise, the damage to the train could’ve been catastrophic. The passengers wouldn’t have been evacuated in time. I feel like he sensed something was off before the incident… It was almost like he got on that train specifically to handle it. By the way, Caleb didn’t want me to tell you this, but I think you should know… His arm got hurt pretty badly. He refused to go to the hospital and went straight home. I don’t know what he’s hiding, but… When you see him, tell him to be careful.”

“I will, Gideon.”

Using her fingerprint, she unlocks Caleb’s door and pushes it open. The living room is empty.

“Caleb? You there? Huh… I thought he was supposed to be home.”

Scanning the room, she only sees his clothes draped over the sofa and his phone on the coffee table. She pulls out her phone to look up nearby hospitals, but a gentle breeze catches her attention.

Something’s not right.

She follows the breeze to a wall that seems completely solid. She gives the wall a push. It opens, revealing a scene that leaves her stunned.

In the dimly lit room, Caleb is shirtless. He’s surrounded by numerous devices with darkened screens. Cables stretch from the devices like a web and converge into Caleb’s right arm. The limb looks almost alien—its once flesh and bone replaced by mechanical muscle, with dark red currents flowing through it.

He's sitting at a desk, hunched over and clutching his wrist. The cables from his arm run into a machine with a large screen.

She can tell from the way his right hand clenches into a fist and the way he grips the edge of the table that something is very wrong.

His head is down and he hasn't noticed her.

"Caleb?"

Her voice echoes in the silence of the room.

He jerks his head toward her, startled. A few strands of his brown hair cover his eyes, making it hard to read his expression. But she can still see the shock, and the panic.

“How did you…”

The secret is out. There's no point in hiding anymore.

With a sigh, he turns toward her and reveals his arm. He doesn't look her in the eye, and keeps his gaze fixed on his feet.

"Are you scared?"

His voice is strained, and it trembles slightly. As if he's bracing himself for rejection, disgust.

She's taken aback by the question. Is she scared?

She's shocked, yes, but the truth is she's more angry than anything. Angry that he hid this from her, and that she wasn't able to protect him.

"No, of course not."

As she looks at him, a part of her wants to cry.

“Maybe you should be.”

The words are meant to be harsh, a warning. But he sounds like he's pleading with her. Like he's trying to scare her away, and convince himself she's safer if she's far away from him.

He's facing away from her, so she can't see his expression, but his shoulders are stiff and his back is rigid. He's braced for a fight. Numerous wounds litter the vast expanse of his back, and Caleb spasms and tenses, clearly in pain.

She takes a step forward.

“Stay back.”

His voice is hoarse and ragged, like he's been shouting, or crying. Maybe both.

She can see his shoulders shaking, and a bead of sweat slides down his back, between the ridges of his spine.

“Repair complete.”

A mechanical, cold voice announces from one of the screens. Caleb sighs, and his shoulders droop. She watches him carefully remove the cables attached to his arm. Then he clenches his metal fist, testing the movement. The metal clinks softly as the mechanisms shift.

Ignoring his previous warning, she walks to him, her hands hovering over his back. He doesn’t turn to look at her. Doesn't stop her from touching him, either.

“Ah, that’s right," he says, his voice a hoarse whisper. "You never listen to me in moments like this."

His tone is almost wistful, as if he's remembering another moment, from long ago. A happier time.

Her palm makes contact with his bare skin and he tenses, sucking in a breath. She pulls her hand back, worried that she's caused him pain, but then he presses himself into her touch, almost desperate. She rests her hand on his shoulder, gently, carefully avoiding the wounds that cover his back.

She feels him shake under her fingers, and she can't tell if it's from pain, or exhaustion, or something else entirely.

"Caleb, turn around," she murmurs, her voice soft. She runs her hand down his back, tracing his spine, and feels the muscles there quiver under her touch. "Let me see you."

He's stubborn, and doesn't respond. She sighs, and steps around him, coming to stand in front of him.

Caleb keeps his gaze averted. She can't see his face, hidden by the fall of his hair.

"Caleb," she says again, reaching out. She lifts his chin with her fingers, tilting his head up, and brushes his hair away from his face.

His eyes are closed.

"Hey," she whispers. "Open your eyes."

Slowly, reluctantly, he does, and when he looks at her, his eyes are dark, haunted.

"I didn’t mean to hide it from you," he murmurs. His voice is hoarse, and when he looks up at her, his eyes are bright. "I just didn’t expect you to find out like this."

She sits next to him, looking at his hands clench and unclench into fists. The metal fingers gleam in the dim light of the room.

“Your arm… Does it hurt?”

He hesitates, then shakes his head.

“I barely feel any pain. Unless it’s under repair.”

His right arm shifts on his lap and then, tentatively, reaches for her. The metal fingers brush against the back of her hand, then trace a line down the inside of her wrist. He doesn't grip her hand, instead, he rests his fingers atop hers. He's careful, gentle. Like he's afraid of breaking her. The metal is smooth and cool against her skin, but it's still Caleb's hand. Still him.

He keeps his gaze fixed on his hand, where his metal fingers lie on hers. He's breathing quickly, almost shallowly, and his shoulders are hunched like he's expecting a blow. His fingers curl slightly around hers, and she feels the metal joints click as the fingers move. Caleb's other hand is clenched into a fist, his knuckles white.

When she looks at him, really looks at him, he looks like he's about to shatter. His expression is raw and vulnerable, the mask gone, and his eyes are bright with unshed tears.

“I… can’t even feel you anymore.”

She remembers their bickering in front of the dessert shop. How he had given her his arm, even though he knew it meant nothing. Even though he could no longer feel her, could not experience the sensation of her touch.

She pulls from his grasp. He lets her go without a fight, letting his hand drop into his lap. Then, she reaches out and grabs his right hand. It's heavier than his other hand, denser. The metal is cool under her touch.

His breath catches as she traces her fingers along the contours of his knuckles, mapping out the planes and angles. She runs her thumb along the smooth, dark metal, and Caleb shudders, his breath coming out in a stutter.

“Caleb… Sometimes I wish you were always in pain," she says quietly.

She turns his hand over, running her thumb along the dark, metallic palm. The metal is warm now, from her touch. Caleb's eyes are half-lidded, and he's watching her through the fall of his hair.

“If that’s what it takes to feel you, I’ll accept it," he responds, his voice soft and a little hoarse.

It's not a joke, she can tell. Caleb means every word. He always has.

He doesn't pull his hand away, or try to stop her, and she traces the lines and curves of the metal, feeling the way it warms and shifts under her touch.

“Most of the time," she says, keeping her voice low and steady, "I just wish I could take some of the pain away."

She slips from his hold and runs her fingers down the length of his right forearm, marvelling at the way the combination of metal and synthetic muscle moves under her touch. He freezes, swallowing hard. His eyes follow the movement of her fingers, and although he can't feel her, can't feel the warmth of her skin, he shudders, his shoulders hunching.

"But I can't. Can I?"

"No."

Anger, hot and sharp, flares up in her chest. Is this why he disappeared? Is this why he pretended to be dead and left her behind? Who did this to him? Who would dare?!

"Is this why you left?" she asks, her voice sharp. "“Did the Fleet do this? Was it them? Because if it was, I swear—"

She jumps off the cot, ready to go find whoever did this to him, but she only manages a step before his flesh and blood arm snakes around her waist, and pulls her back against his chest. His forehead drops to her shoulder, and he breathes deeply.

“So you really think you can just come and go whenever you feel like it?” he murmurs, his voice muffled.

His arms tighten around her, and she feels his breath ghost across her neck. Her anger dissipates, and she leans back into his embrace.

“It hurts even more when you put yourself at risk for me," he whispers.

His words make her heart ache. She can't bring herself to argue, or even think of a snarky retort. He's right, after all.

He turns her around, his face contorted as if in pain. His metal arm, black and gleaming, remains limp by his side. With his human hand, he traces her cheek, his fingers trembling slightly. She leans into the touch, covering his hand with her own.

He swallows, his jaw clenching.

"If something ever happens to you because of me..."

He trails off, his voice choked, and she can tell how much effort it takes him to get the words out.

She looks at him, takes in his face. The way his lips are parted, the slight flush of his cheeks, the way his hair falls in his eyes. He's beautiful.

He's the most beautiful man she's ever seen.

Without thinking, she throws herself at him, her arms wrapping tightly around his waist. They fall back onto the cot, and Caleb catches her, steadying her. She buries her face in his chest, breathing deeply, inhaling the scent of him. His heartbeat is fast and strong, and she feels it thundering beneath her ear. He looks down at her through his eyelashes, his chest rising and falling heavily with each breath.

"You can't leave me," she murmurs, her voice muffled against his chest. "Not again."

"I won't," he promises. He shifts slightly, moving his human arm out from under her and wraps it around her shoulders, his hand coming to rest on the small of her back. He runs his hand along the length of her spine, and she shivers, arching into his touch.

“Then hold me, Caleb. As tight as you can.” She covers his right hand, which is limp and unmoving. "Use your metal arm. Don't hold back."

His arm trembles, the joints clicking softly as the gears shift, and then it's lifting off the bed, wrapping around her. He's careful, tentative. Holding her like she's made of glass, like she might break if he holds her too tightly. She pushes his hand harder, tighter against her, and his breath catches, his heartbeat stuttering.

She feels him press his forehead against the curve of her neck, and his arm tightens around her, holding her against him. She's pinned between his chest and the solid, warm weight of his arm, and his breathing is ragged, his breath warm against her skin.

"You’re the only one… who can make me feel whole again.”

The words are whispered, a confession, a plea. They're a balm, soothing the ache that's been building inside her since the moment she realized he was still alive. That he'd never really left her.

She wants to say something, wants to tell him how much he means to her. How much she cares about him, how much she wants him to stay by her side, how much she needs him. How much she wants him, and how much he affects her. But the words catch in her throat, and her heart races, and she can't find the right ones, can't find the courage to say them.

But Caleb, ever perceptive, seems to understand.

"You don't have to say anything," he whispers. "I know."

The arm wrapped around her is tight and secure, pinning her to his chest, and his breathing is ragged, his pulse beating wildly beneath her ear. His other hand is resting on her waist, and she can feel the tension in his muscles, the way his fingers dig into her skin.

It's not the same as before, it can't be, and it won't ever be. But maybe it doesn't have to be. Maybe this can be enough. Maybe it can be better.

She lifts her head from his chest, and looks up at him. He meets her gaze, his eyes dark, his expression fierce. His hair is a mess, hanging in his face, obscuring his eyes.

She reaches up, brushing his hair back. He makes a low, rough sound in the back of his throat, tilting his head towards her. His mouth is a hairsbreadth from hers, his lips parted.

"You're so beautiful," she breathes.

She traces her thumb along the curve of his lower lip, and his eyes slide shut, his lashes fanning across his cheeks. Her heart stutters in her chest, and she closes the distance between them, capturing his mouth in a kiss.

It's messy, and desperate, and his mouth opens against hers, his tongue sliding against hers. The hand on her waist moves to her hip, pulling her closer, dragging her body flush against his. His metal hand slides up her back, cupping the back of her neck, holding her in place. She moans, arching against him, and his grip tightens, his fingers digging into her skin.

They break apart, gasping, and his hand is in her hair, tangling in the strands. His breath is warm against her neck, his chest heaving. She runs her hands over his shoulders, down his back, feeling the shift of muscle and bone. He shivers, and then he's kissing her again, his mouth hot and urgent against hers.

"You don't know how long I've waited for this," he pants, between kisses. "Since the moment we first met, I knew. I knew I wanted you, I knew you were the one. And I was right. You are."

She kisses him again, unable to bear the thought of stopping, unable to stand the space between them. His arms tighten around her, and his metal fingers card through her hair, the metal joints clicking softly against her scalp. He holds her like he's afraid she'll disappear, his hands clutching her like he can't bear to let go.

His human hand slides down her body, slipping under her shirt, tracing her spine, and his mouth moves along her jaw, his lips burning against her skin.

"God, I've missed you," he groans. "I've missed you. I've missed you so much."

The words are a balm, and she sinks into his embrace, letting him pull her closer, letting him hold her. He's always been so gentle, even when he was teasing her. She can't remember the last time she felt so safe. So loved.

"I've missed you too," she whispers. "I thought you were dead. I thought I'd never see you again. I'm so glad you're here. I'm so glad you're home."

He holds her close, his arms wrapping around her waist, his forehead pressing against hers. He smells like sandalwood and spice, and she inhales his scent, breathing him in. He's solid, and warm, and real, and she buries her face in the curve of his neck, inhaling deeply. He makes a soft noise, a low, rough groan, like a wounded animal.

"I'm sorry," he says, his voice a whisper, hoarse and ragged. "I'm so sorry. I didn't want to hurt you. I didn't want to leave you."

She knows it's true. Knows it like she knows her own name. Caleb has never lied to her. Not even once.

"Then don't leave me," she whispers. "Don't leave me again."

She pulls back and looks up at him, searching his face. He looks down at her, his eyes wide and dark. He reaches up, his hand hovering over her cheek, and she leans into his touch, feeling his warm, calloused palm against her skin.

"Never again," he promises, his voice a hoarse whisper. "Not in a million years."

"Good."

She grabs his wrist and bites the soft skin at the base of his palm, hard enough to sting. Caleb inhales sharply, his body stiffening. His hand twitches, his fingers curling, but he doesn't pull away. She runs her tongue along his wrist, licking the thin skin, and then sucks on his pulse point.

"Because if you ever, and I mean ever, pull some shit like that again..."

Her voice is a low, rough growl, and she nips along the inside of his arm, from his wrist to the crook of his elbow. She licks the tender spot where his vein thrums, her tongue hot and slick, and he shudders, a choked moan escaping his throat.

"I will hunt you down," she hisses, her mouth hot against his skin. "And I will make you regret it."

His metal arm tightens around her, the metal joints clicking softly, almost imperceptibly. Caleb lets out a shaky breath, and she presses her mouth to his bicep, biting the curve of his muscle. He's solid and muscular, built like a fighter, and his body is lean, his muscles taut and tensed.

She moves up his arm, her mouth moving from his shoulder to his neck. His pulse flutters wildly beneath her lips, and she nips at the base of his throat. Caleb groans, his human hand twisting in her hair.

"I swear, if you ever die on me again, I will kill you myself."

She sucks on the side of his neck, feeling his pulse jump beneath her tongue. He gasps, his hips bucking, and she slides a leg over his thighs, straddling his lap. He's already hard, his erection pressing against her stomach, and his hips move restlessly, seeking friction. She grinds down on him, and he makes a strangled noise, clutching her tightly.

"Do you hear me, Colonel?" she asks, punctuating her words with a roll of her hips. "No more secrets. No more disappearing acts. We're in this together. No matter what."

"Y-yes, ma'am," he stammers, his voice rough and shaky.

"Good boy."

She kisses the column of his throat, trailing her tongue along his Adam's apple. His metal hand curls around the back of her neck, and his flesh-and-blood fingers slip into her hair. His eyes are closed, his brow furrowed. He looks like he's in pain.

"Do you have any idea," he groans, "what you do to me? How hard it was for me to stay away from you? Even when I was supposed to be dead, I wanted you. So fucking much."

She pulls back, taking in the sight of him. He looks wrecked, his chest rising and falling quickly, his eyes half-lidded, his face flushed, his mouth swollen and bruised from her kisses.

She wants him. Wants him more than anything she's ever wanted before. More than air, more than water, more than life itself.

She reaches down and grabs the hem of her shirt, and starts pulling it over her head.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait."

His metal hand is suddenly on hers, stopping her, and he gently pulls her shirt back down.

"What? What's wrong?"

"This isn't how I imagined it," he says. "When I pictured our first time together... It was supposed to be different. Better. Special."

"Are you kidding me?"

"I know. I'm sorry. I just don't want to fuck this up."

"Caleb. Look at me."

He hesitates, but does as she asks. His expression is conflicted, his brow furrowed, and his eyes are dark, his pupils blown wide.

"It doesn't matter what happens next. All that matters is that we're together. That you're alive. That I'm alive."

His human hand cups her cheek, his fingers trembling slightly, and he takes a deep, shuddering breath. His eyes flutter shut, and he leans his forehead against hers, his breath ghosting across her lips.

"We've waited long enough," she whispers. "And I don't want to wait any longer. Not another second. Caleb, I want you. Now. Here. Right now."

"God," he breathes, his eyes sliding shut. "I've waited my entire life to hear you say those words."

His metal fingers thread through her hair, gently tugging, and his lips brush against hers, his kiss slow and deep. Her hands move to his shoulders, gripping the fabric of his shirt, and his tongue teases her bottom lip, coaxing her mouth open. She melts into him, her hands sliding down his chest, and his flesh-and-blood fingers trail down her spine, his touch light and teasing.

"Tell me what you want," he murmurs, his mouth moving along her jaw, his lips skimming her skin.

She tilts her head back, exposing the column of her throat, and his teeth graze her pulse point. She shudders, a soft moan escaping her lips.

"I want you."

"You have me."

He cups her face, his gaze meeting hers, his expression serious.

"All of me. I'm yours. Always have been. Always will be."

His words make her heart race, her breath catching in her throat.

"Do you know how many times I've imagined this moment?" he murmurs.

His thumbs stroke her cheeks, his eyes searching hers.

"Do you know how many nights I laid awake, wondering what it would be like to be with you?"

He leans forward, his mouth a hairsbreadth from hers.

"Do you know how many hours I've spent thinking about you, dreaming about you, wanting you? Every moment of every day, you're all I think about. You're all I've ever thought about."

His mouth brushes against hers, his lips feather-light.

"How many days have I spent wondering what it would feel like to hold you in my arms?"

He kisses the corner of her mouth, his tongue darting out to taste her. She gasps, her eyes fluttering shut, her heart pounding.

"How many nights I spent alone, imagining what it would be like to fall asleep beside you, and wake up in the morning to find you still in my arms?"

"Oh, Caleb."

Her voice is a breathless whisper, and his lips curve into a smile.

"How many nights I've wondered what your voice would sound like, calling out my name as I buried myself inside you?"

He kisses her again, harder, deeper, and his metal hand trails down her back, cupping her ass. She gasps, arching against him, and he groans, his teeth sinking into her bottom lip. His hands move to her hips, gripping her, holding her in place, and his mouth moves along her jaw, his tongue tracing a path to her ear.

"How many nights I laid awake, staring at the ceiling, wishing it was your hand, and not my own wrapped around my cock."

She can barely form a coherent thought, let alone speak. All she can focus on is the heat of his body, the smell of him, the taste of his skin. Every inch of her is on fire, her nerve endings singing, her skin tingling. She's never wanted anyone or anything as badly as she wants him.

"Caleb," she gasps, his name a breathless prayer. "Stop talking. Just... stop talking."

His lips curl into a wicked grin, his eyes glittering with amusement.

"Make me."

He leans down, his mouth brushing against hers, his teeth scraping her lower lip. His hands slide up her thighs, his fingers hooking in the waistband of her pants. He tugs them down, his fingers grazing the bare skin of her ass, and she gasps, her hips bucking involuntarily. He laughs, a low, rough sound, and then his mouth is on hers, his tongue parting her lips, his teeth nipping at her skin.

Her hands slide down his chest, her nails digging into his flesh, and he hisses, his back arching. She reaches for the hem of her shirt, yanking it over her head, and he growls, his hands moving to her bra, tugging the straps down her shoulders. His mouth is on her skin, his teeth scraping along her collarbone, and his metal hand moves to her breasts, cupping her, his fingers rolling her nipples.

She whimpers, her head falling back, and his other hand slides down her stomach, dipping into the waistband of her underwear.

"God, you're so fucking wet," he murmurs, his voice muffled against her neck.

"It's your fault," she pants, her hands gripping his shoulders, her hips rocking against his. "You do this to me. You always have."

He makes a low, rough sound in the back of his throat, and his hand moves, his fingers sliding along her slick folds. She gasps, her back arching, and his mouth is on hers, drinking in her moans, his tongue stroking hers. His fingers slide inside her, curling, and her nails dig into his back, her breath catching in her throat.

"Caleb," she chokes out, her head falling back.

"That's it, sweetheart. Let go for me. That's my girl."

His voice is a low, rough rumble, and his mouth is hot and wet on her skin, his teeth dragging along her throat. He moves his fingers, curling them, brushing against that spot that makes her see stars, and she cries out, her hips jerking, her muscles tightening.

"Yes! Caleb, right there. Oh, God, yes."

He does it again, and again, his thumb circling her clit, and she bites down on his shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark, her nails digging into his back. He groans, thrusting against her, and she can feel his cock, hard and throbbing, pressing against her through the fabric of his pants.

"Ah, fuck." Caleb's voice is a ragged whisper, strained with pleasure and pain. "You're killing me, sweetheart. You're gonna be the death of me."

His fingers move faster, his pace almost brutal, and she can feel herself getting close, heat building in her core, her muscles tightening, her back arching.

"I'm close," she gasps, her fingers tangling in his hair, her nails scraping his scalp.

"Yeah? You gonna come for me?"

She whimpers, pulling his hair, her hips jerking. He groans, his eyes darkening as he watches her, transfixed.

"Look at me. Look at me while you come."

She forces her eyes open, her gaze locking with his, and his gaze is intense, his expression feral, his eyes blazing.

"Say my name."

"Caleb," she gasps, her grip tightening, her hips bucking against his hand. "Oh, God, Caleb."

He curls his fingers, his thumb circling her clit, and she arches her back, crying out. Pleasure crashes over her in waves, her body shuddering, her muscles clenching around his fingers. He keeps moving, drawing out her release, and her head falls back, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

He slides his fingers out of her, and she whimpers, her muscles clenching at the loss of contact. He brings his hand to his mouth, licking her arousal off his fingers, moaning softly.

"You taste so good, sweetheart," he murmurs, sucking his fingers clean. "I could live on that for the rest of my life."

She shivers, her muscles aching, her skin damp with sweat. He kisses the hollow of her throat, trailing his tongue along her collarbone, his mouth hot and wet.

"But I need more," he whispers. "Much, much more."

He stands, lifting her with him, and then he turns her around, bending her over the table, his metal hand between her shoulder blades, pinning her down. She braces her hands against the surface, her palms flat, her breath catching. His hand moves down the length of her spine, and she arches her back, a soft moan escaping her lips.

"Look at you, beautiful girl." His fingers trail down her sides, his metal joints clicking. "Just look at you."

He grabs the waistband of her underwear and tugs, pulling them down her legs. His hands cup her ass, squeezing the curves, and then his fingers slide between her thighs, stroking her slick, sensitive flesh. She moans, her hips jerking, and he leans down, his mouth hot against the nape of her neck.

"You have no idea," he breathes, his tongue flicking out, tasting her skin, "how often I've imagined you like this. Bent over, spread out, waiting for me. Begging for me."

He straightens, his hands moving to the front of his pants, undoing the belt. He shoves his pants and boxers down his hips, and she feels the head of his cock, hard and heavy, pressing against her entrance.

"Do you want me, sweetheart?" he whispers, his lips brushing against her ear.

"Yes," she chokes out, her hips arching back. She needs him. Needs to feel him inside her. "God, yes."

He groans, his metal hand splaying across her back, holding her in place. He presses forward, the head of his cock pushing into her, and she cries out, her fingernails scratching the table.

"Caleb," she breathes, his name a desperate prayer.

"I'm here," he murmurs. "I'm right here."

He grips her hips, his thumbs digging into her flesh, and then he thrusts into her, burying himself to the hilt. She cries out, her back arching, her muscles clenching around him. He makes a low, rough sound in the back of his throat, his grip tightening.

"Ah, fuck," he gasps, leaning forward, his forehead resting between her shoulder blades. "Fuck, you feel so good. Too good. Give me a second."

He takes a deep, shuddering breath, his fingers digging into her skin, and she feels his muscles tensing, straining, his cock pulsing inside her. She whimpers, her hips rocking against him, and he groans, his fingers digging into her waist.

"Stop," he pants. "If you don't stop, I'm gonna come. Fuck."

She laughs, her head falling forward, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

"What's wrong, Colonel?" she asks, rolling her hips, her muscles clenching around him. "Can't handle the heat?"

"Ah!" He inhales sharply, his body going rigid, and his metal fingers dig into her flesh, his grip bruising. "Don't... don't do that."

"What, this?"

She does it again, her inner muscles tightening, and his hips jerk, a low groan escaping his throat.

"Yeah, that."

"But it's fun."

She does it again, and again, rocking her hips, taking him deeper. He groans, his head falling back, his breathing ragged. Then his hands tighten on her hips, and he pulls out, only to slam back into her.

"Two can play at that game," he growls, setting a hard, punishing pace.

She cries out, her hands scrabbling for purchase on the table, her fingers digging into the surface. Her body shakes, her muscles clenching, her inner walls fluttering.

"Caleb," she moans, her eyes squeezing shut.

"I'm here," he breathes, his hand slipping beneath her, sliding down her belly. "I'm right here."

He presses a hand over her stomach, over the bump of his cock inside her, and the pressure is incredible, his hand warm and heavy. She groans, her head falling back, and he leans forward, his lips brushing against the side of her neck.

"Look at me," he whispers. "Look at me, sweetheart."

She opens her eyes, meeting his gaze. His face is flushed, his brow furrowed, his eyes dark. He looks like he's in pain, his expression strained, and she realizes he's holding back, trying to make it last. Trying to make it good for her.

"You feel so fucking amazing," he murmurs, kissing the side of her face. "So fucking good. Like you were made just for me."

She gasps, her head falling back, her muscles tightening around him. He groans, his hands flexing, his metal joints clicking.

"I never thought..." His voice trails off, his words punctuated by ragged breaths. "I never thought we'd be here. That I'd get to have you like this. That you'd want me like this."

His words send a thrill through her, her heart swelling. She reaches back, her fingers finding the nape of his neck, threading through his hair.

"Caleb," she murmurs. "You're the only one I've ever wanted. Ever needed. It's always been you."

He buries his face in the crook of her neck, his arms wrapping around her, crushing her against him. His cock slides in and out of her, his hips moving, driving into her. She feels herself spiraling, her climax building, her muscles tensing, and then his fingers find her clit, circling, and her back arches, her orgasm tearing through her.

She cries out, her body shaking, and his name spills from her lips, over and over again, a desperate litany. Caleb. Caleb. Caleb.

He keeps fucking her, his pace relentless, his thrusts hard and deep, and her body clenches around him, her muscles fluttering, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She reaches back, grabbing his head, her fingers tangling in his hair.

"You're mine," she gasps, tugging his head back, forcing him to meet her gaze. "Mine."

His eyes widen, his expression shocked, and then his lips curve into a crooked grin.

"That's right, sweetheart," he murmurs, his eyes locked on hers. "All yours. Every inch."

He thrusts into her, hard and deep, and her muscles clench around him, her body shuddering. She pulls his head down, kissing him, her teeth nipping at his lower lip. Their tongues tangle, his mouth hot and hungry, and then he breaks away, his lips trailing down her throat, his teeth scraping her pulse point.

"God, you're incredible," he groans, his hands moving up her torso, his thumbs brushing over her nipples.

She gasps, arching against him, and he cups her breasts, kneading the soft flesh. His cock slides in and out of her slick, wet heat, and she rolls her hips, taking him deeper. Pleasure coils in her belly, heat building, her inner muscles fluttering. She's going to come again, and judging by the look on his face, so is he.

"Look at me," she murmurs.

Caleb lifts his head, his gaze meeting hers, his brow furrowed, his mouth slightly parted. His cheeks are flushed, his skin damp with sweat, and his eyes are dark, pupils dilated. He looks so pretty like this, lost in pleasure, his composure shattered.

"Are you close?" she whispers, pushing back against him.

The sound he makes is somewhere between a laugh and a sob.

"Y-yeah," he stammers, his voice breaking. "Really fucking close."

She smiles, her eyes locked on his.

"Me too."

His hands tighten on her waist, his fingers digging into her skin. Their bodies move in tandem, grinding, thrusting, their pace frenzied.

"I want you to come inside me," she breathes.

He groans, his hands sliding up her sides, his thumbs brushing over her nipples.

"God, don't say shit like that," he murmurs, his mouth moving against the side of her neck. "I'm already hanging on by a thread here."

She laughs, her hips arching back, taking him deeper. He feels incredible, his cock buried to the hilt, filling her, stretching her. Her body trembles, her muscles fluttering, her nerves singing. She's close, so close.

"Then do it," she gasps, rolling her hips.

"Ah, fuck," he growls, his hands moving to her breasts, kneading the soft flesh.

She moans, her eyes fluttering shut, and then his fingers slide between her thighs, teasing, caressing.

"I want to feel you come," he whispers, his breath hot against her skin. "I want to feel you come all over my cock."

His words push her over the edge, and her back arches, her muscles clenching around him. Caleb groans, his hands gripping her hips, his fingers digging into her skin. Heat surges through her veins, and she cries out, her nails scraping the table, her legs trembling.

"Fuck, I can feel you," he gasps, his hips jerking. "Your pussy's squeezing me so fucking tight. Ah, God. I'm going to—fuck!"

He thrusts into her, hard and deep, and then he goes rigid, his body shaking. She feels him pulse inside her, his cock throbbing, his hips jerking. He comes with a choked-off cry, burying his face in the crook of her neck. The warmth of his release spills inside her, and she moans, her fingers digging into the table.

They collapse against the surface, both of them gasping, their bodies trembling. His weight is a delicious heaviness, pinning her down, making her feel safe.

"Holy shit," he breathes, his breath hot against her skin.

She laughs, turning her head to press a kiss against his temple. He's still inside her, softening but not pulling out, and she relishes the closeness, the intimacy of it. She's never felt more connected to anyone in her life, more vulnerable, more exposed.

"You can say that again," she murmurs.

He nuzzles her neck, his stubble scraping her skin. He's all soft and sweet and cuddly now, his metal hand gentle as it strokes her stomach, his lips trailing soft kisses along her shoulder. This is the Caleb she remembers, the one who held her when the nightmares woke her, who chased the shadows away with the touch of his fingers and the warmth of his smile.

"Hey," he says, his voice soft. "You okay?"

She nods, her eyes drifting closed.

"Yeah. More than okay."

He chuckles, his lips brushing the side of her face.

"Good."

He shifts, lifting his weight off her, and she whines at the loss of contact, her muscles clenching. He slides out of her, and they both groan, their bodies shuddering. She feels so empty without him, her muscles fluttering. She hears a low, husky moan, and turns to find him watching as his cum spills from her aching core, dripping down her thighs.

"God," he whispers, his eyes wide. "That's so fucking hot."

She laughs, her skin flushing. He looks so gorgeous, his gaze burning, his hair disheveled, his cheeks flushed. She reaches for him, and he meets her halfway, bending down to scoop her into his arms, cradling her against his chest.

"Hold onto me," he murmurs.

She loops her arms around his neck, clinging to him, and he lifts her easily, carrying her across the room. She lets her eyes drift closed, savoring the warmth of his skin, the solidness of his body, the gentle rise and fall of his chest.

Caleb carries her into the bedroom, lowering her onto the mattress. He climbs in beside her, pulling the sheets over them, and then his arms are around her, drawing her close. She burrows against his chest, reveling in the comfort, the safety, the warmth.

"You're shaking," he says, his voice soft.

"Whose fault is that?"

Caleb huffs a laugh, the sound muffled by the pillow.

"Fair enough."

His hands drift up her back, his fingers tracing her spine, and she sighs, melting against him. Her eyes drift closed, and she can feel herself starting to doze off, her body warm and heavy.

She feels his lips brush the top of her head, his voice a soft murmur.

"I love you."

Her breath catches, her chest tightening. The words are simple, plain, and yet they're the most beautiful thing she's ever heard.

She tilts her head back, gazing up at him. His eyes are soft, his expression tender, his hair messy from where her fingers have raked through it. He's so beautiful it almost hurts to look at him.

She reaches up, cupping his cheek, her thumb tracing the scar that curves along his jaw.

"I love you, too," she whispers.

His lips curve into a slow, sweet smile.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

She rises up, pressing her lips to his. His arms wrap around her, drawing her close, and she melts against him, savoring the feel of his body, the strength of his embrace.

He holds her tightly, as if he's afraid she might disappear, and she understands the feeling. They've both spent so long running, hiding, surviving. But here, wrapped in each other's arms, they're safe. They're home.