The Cuban Assignation

Chapter Six

Sleep that night was a broken affair, John and Cara’s bouts of deep and restful slumber punctuated by their lovemaking, its various degrees ranging from wildly passionate to somnolent and tender.  Even so, Cara was awake as the sun rose the following morning. She viewed John’s sleeping frame with a satisfied smile before disengaging herself from beneath his arm. She threw on the first garment that came to hand and padded over to the fridge for a glass of orange juice.

In spite of her careful movements, John stirred within a minute or two, aware of the empty space beside him. Easing himself up on one elbow, he watched her make her way over to the balcony, opening the doors to stand and watch the sleeping city. She was wearing his white shirt, its hem only just reaching the top of her thighs. Sliding silently out of bed, John pulled on his boxers and began to make his way stealthily across the room.

He had planned to take Cara by surprise, but of course she was as well trained as he was. A split second before he slipped his arms around her waist, she murmured, “Good morning Sergeant Porter.”

“It certainly is,” he replied, pulling her close, his beard grazing her shoulder as he snuggled in to kiss Cara’s cheek. She still smelt of warm bed and sex and John felt himself stiffen instantly as memories of the previous night came flooding back.

Cara felt his reaction and a corresponding need deep inside her immediately answered his arousal. She gave an exaggerated stretch, pushing back against him as she did so.

“Careful, Miss Fuentes,” he warned teasingly, his voice like syrup in her ear, “Or I may not be responsible for my actions.”

“And…?” she retorted.

“And we’re on your balcony,” John chuckled, “Come back to bed.”

Cara arched her back, her bottom moving sinuously against John’s erection as she did so.

“It’s 5.30 in the morning and we’re on the top floor – it’s not as if we’re overlooked.”

John was somewhat taken aback, but horny as hell at her suggestive answer.

“I suppose not,” he replied, “So it wouldn’t really matter if I did this…”

His hands slid to her front, undoing the top couple of buttons and allowing him access to her breasts. His hands were strong but gentle as they cupped and caressed, tormenting her for several moments before his thumbs and fingertips found her swollen nipples.

Cara reached behind, letting her fingernails graze the length of John’s shaft before dexterously freeing him from his boxers which he kicked to one side as they hit the floor. Only the crisp cotton of the shirt separated them now and he was desperate for her but still not completely sure about their location. Hesitantly his hand moved lower, sliding between her legs to discover that she was just as turned on as he was. She moaned softly at his touch and he could feel her breathing quickening beneath his other hand as she moved her hips, pressing hard against him again.

His mouth was hot on her earlobe, nibbling gently, his voice a deep, husky whisper.

“Are you sure about this?”

Cara was almost breathless with need for him so she simply nodded her reply.

It was all the encouragement he needed, and he pushed up the hem of the shirt and gently parted her thighs, sliding his cock slowly against her sex, the tip teasing her most sensitive spot as he moved against her with long, slow strokes. His lips and tongue were moving hotly over her neck and shoulder and she could feel the curve of his lips as he smiled at her sighs of pleasure.

Partly to tease, partly to delay his own fulfilment, John stopped moving for several seconds.

Cara groaned in exasperation. “Don’t stop, John, please…”