it's just a bloodstain

JACK

For all that Jack has fucked around - and let's not be coy about it, it's a lot - there's something to be said for the crackling joy and buoyant laughter in the Doubletake's thoughts that catches him entirely off guard. Adrift in the phantom stroke of her hands, the way her fingers twist into his hair, it takes a second for him to remember to even breathe, and it catches in his chest as he moves within her. 

Braced over Flora if only enough to fuck her properly, his free hand slips beneath her lower back, arching her up and against him, a soft moan escaping the captain's lips as he fights to keep his pace slow.

And while verbal appreciation is largely needless for a man with telepathy, that Flora gives it anyway knowing what she knows is enough to bring a fleeting smirk to Jack's lips, each thrust deep and almost intentionally not quite enough, as if to stoke the fire in her core to something uncontrollable. The problem, of course, is that it's just as difficult for him to maintain composure as it is for the Doubletake.

"I want you to cum for me," he whispers against the soft space beneath her ear, sweat already beading down the length of his spine in an effort not to simply fuck her to oblivion.

romancing yourself is possible, narcissistic
and recommended