Be Careful What You Wish For(14)

He moved faster, taking deep, long breaths each time, pacing himself as he listened to her breathing. She gasped with every thrust, and he felt her legs come up around his hips to clench him close. That was more like it.
Faster and faster he moved, the pressure building up inside his body with each thrust. It was so much better than he’d remembered, this falling into a woman’s warm body. He had to stop several times to regain his control.
She was slick and hot now. There could be no doubt how much she wanted him. With a smile of satisfaction, he slid in and out of her body with new purpose. He was going to come soon, and he wanted her to come with him. As his flesh slapped against hers, he could feel her release start to overcome her. He moaned as little twinges deep in her body danced along his length and. She started to curl up into him as if her life depended on his touch.
Then it hit her.
Her entire body went tense as her vaginal muscles gripped him with such force that it should have been painful; instead it was amazing and wonderful. He thrust again, forcing his cock past the rigid layers of muscle, each delicious touch tantalizing and torturing until he reached his limit. Sean exploded into her body.
He grunted, and his hips spasmed violently as he shot his seed. All thought ceased as pleasure rushed through him and he squeezed her until she cried out in protest. Slowly he came down, taking in deep breaths and collapsing on to her body. He felt something pushing at him, and he realized it was her hands.
Why was she pushing him away?
Sean rolled off her and she turned away from him quickly. Her shoulders shuddered, and he realized she was crying. What the hell? He touched her back hesitantly, suddenly out of his realm. He liked whores because they didn’t cry. Or if they did, he dismissed them. What was going on here?
She shook her head as he rubbed her shoulder, then she sat up, wiping the tears away from her face. Her skin was blotchy and her nose ran. Not pretty crying, certainly not done for effect. He opened his mouth to speak and she cut him off with one raised hand. He bit back his question, trying to figure out what to do next.
“Can we please just get some rest?” she asked softly, wiping the back of her hand across her face once more.
He nodded his head hesitantly, utterly confused. She rolled into a small ball facing away from him, pulling up the silken sheets to her chin. Sean watched her for another moment in puzzled silence, then turned away and rolled off the bed. They had a long flight ahead of them, maybe she was right. Sleep would be good. He was far more relaxed now than he’d been in months. Safer, too.
He walked across the room, allowing himself to enjoy the feeling of the plush carpet between his toes.
Casually he flicked off the dim emergency lights and then returned to the bed. He hadn’t lost his sense of direction in prison, he noted wryly. If anything he was even more attuned to moving without being seen after spending five years in shared cells.
He made it back to the bed and crawled in. Her crying had died down, leaving only the occasional muffled hiccup in its wake. Definitely not crying to get attention.
He lay there in the darkness for what seemed like hours until she fell asleep. Then he curled himself around her, pulling her into the circle of his arms, and letting his head rest against the soft mass of her hair.
Damn, she smelled good. His cock stirred in interest, but he stayed still.
There would be plenty of time to play with her more when the arrived in San Beneficio. Hopefully she’d stop crying, too.
* * * * *
Sandra came awake slowly, unsure of where she was. The bed was soft and comfortable, but there was a strange humming noise all around her. The floor dropped, then came back up beneath her, and she realized she must be on a plane.
But what kind of plane had a bed?
A soft snore drifted into her consciousness, and startling her awake. She wasn’t alone. Memories of the night before filled her mind. She looked around the room, startled that it could be real. Where was she, and how could she escape?
She turned to look at the big man sleeping beside her. His long, dark hair spilled across the pillow, hiding his face from her. She shifted, feeling sticky between her thighs.
Shit.
She’d had sex with him and they hadn’t used any protection. Visions of HIV filled her head, followed by the thought of a black haired baby. Or worse yet, a black-haired baby with HIV.
She clutched one hand to her stomach and moaned in horror. How had this happened to her?
He shifted and she stilled. The last thing she needed was for him to wake up. The longer he slept, the happier she’d be. Moving carefully so as not to disturb the bed, she slid out from between the sheets and walked back toward the tiny bathroom. Dark humor pierced her cloud of unhappiness as she noted that even rich people had to make due with small bathrooms on airplanes. Still, it was a very expensive plane.