Flight to Paradise Ch. 09

"So, no lovemaking tonight?" he asks, still grinning.

She smiles, reaching across the table to touch his face. "No. It was wonderful and sweet last night, and I loved how gentle you were, but tonight, tonight I want to fuck, long enough and hard enough to hold me for the next three weeks."

He laughs lightly as he sits back, gathering their refuse. "From what I've seen, that's a pretty tall order."

She smiles as she slides out of the booth. "I think you're up to it. I'll help."

After returning Ross's car and thanking him profusely for its use, they give the Beauty only the most cursory checks before boarding and starting the engines. He's grateful for the printed checklist as he's distracted thinking about what will happen later at home.

The flight from the airport to the lake is just thirty miles, a short up and down hop of only a few minutes before the Beauty is pounding across the lake. Without prompting Kate reaches over and pulls the lever lowering the landing gear as they approached the ramp, announcing their down and locked position the moment the instrument panel confirms it. As they approach the ramp, Mac powers the engines up with considerably more throttle to push the heavily laden plane up the ramp.

"How much fuel does this thing hold?" she asks, noticing the plane sitting lower in the water and struggling up the ramp.

"About fifteen-hundred pounds or two-hundred gallons. Fully loaded we weigh about eight-thousand pounds. Wait until we take off tomorrow. It's hard work taking off from water fully loaded."

"Wow," she says as he shuts down the plane. "That's a lot of gas."

"Yeah. Those Pratt & Whitney engines, even though they're replicas, are not the most economical things in the world," he says standing up after they do an abbreviated post-flight to shut the plane down.

"Didn't you say they made something like six-hundred horsepower?" she asks, trying to remember what he told her on the flight from LA. She's surprised she knows or cares about any of this stuff. She barely knows what type of car she drives, much less how much horsepower it makes, or anything else about it.

"Six hundred horsepower, each," he corrects. "About twelve-hundred total."

"And how much horsepower does my car have?" she asks, trying to get her head around what the number means.

"I don't know. Probably less than one-fifty." He takes on the thousand-yard stare as he checks the net for the information. "One hundred thirty-seven," he says in answer to her question.

She looks at the plane looming over her head. "That's a lot. The plane I mean."

"Compared to a car, yeah it's a lot. But it is nothing compared to a big commercial airliner. They make hundreds of thousands of horsepower, though they measure it differently," he says as they putter around the plane, preparing to winch it into the hanger.

"Jesus. The fuel bill, even on this thing, must be huge," she mutters as he starts the winch, hauling the plane into the safety of the hanger.

"It isn't cheap," he agrees. "But it's worth it, don't you think?"

She smiles. "Yeah. I would say it's worth it, if you can afford it."

As soon as the Beauty is in the hanger the big doors begin to rumble close as he disconnects the winch cable. "Ready?" he asks.

"For what?" she asks, following him out of the man door in the side of the hanger. Apparently he intends to leave the tug in the hanger tonight.

"For... whatever comes up I guess."

"Aren't you going to finish post-fighting the plane?"

"No. We're flying out first thing in the morning. It'll be fine until then. I made sure the battery is off. No point in turning off the fuel just to turn it on again in the morning. It'll be fine." He chuckles as they exit the hangar. "Besides, it's a great way to check for leaks."

They walk to the house then go about their day, Mac sorting clothes for a load of laundry and Kate adding her few items to the pile. Nothing else is said about the conversation in the restaurant, but they both can feel the looming conflict, the mood in the house becoming thick with sexual energy. Once again he can feel the sexual pull of her as she weaves her magic over him, the look in her eyes and the position of her body speaking of her desire.

She hasn't thought again of her challenge from the restaurant, the flight taking her mind off what she wanted to do to Mac, but walking with him up the path to the house, watching him move with ease and power, once again kindles her desire for him. He's like no man she's had before, his pull on her strong and undeniable. As he goes about his business, laundry, some pre-preparation for dinner, she finds she has a hard time keeping her eyes off him. She wants him, wants him badly, but she's determined to force him to make the first move. A little prod won't hurt, though, as she rises out of the chair and joins him in the kitchen.

He's placing the frozen chicken in the sink when she saunters into the room, settling comfortable against the cabinet, saying nothing. "Chicken for dinner?" he asks.

"Chicken is fine. Are you going to let me help? Show me what to do?"

"If you like."

"I would. I always thought cooking is such a waste of time when zapper meals are so easy, but you're right, freshly prepared meals are better, and it's not as much drudgery as I thought. I can see why Charlie enjoys cooking. I think cooking might become my third favorite thing to do."

"Third?"

"Yes. Third."

"What's your second?"

"Flying. Thank you for allowing me to experience that," she says sincerely.

"It was my pleasure. I think you're a natural. You should take some lessons and get your license."

"Can you teach me?" she asks, excited by the idea.

"No, not really. I'm not a rated instructor. I can show you how to fly, but it doesn't count for anything. You still have to log your hours, be checked out by an instructor, and you still have to pass the tests, but I'll be happy to show you the basics, and let you practice. It'll give you a leg up on getting your license."

"Thank you for the offer. Let me think about it, okay?"

"You can log some more hours tomorrow, on the way to LA if you like. The time won't count, and you'll first have to get your single engine before you can start on your multi-engine, but practice never hurts." He pauses, looking at her, wondering why she affects him so. "So, if cooking is number three, and flying is number two, can I guess what number one is?"

"I think you might," she murmurs.

"You think it is the same as my number one favorite pastime?" he asks, stepping in closer.

She stands up from her propped position but doesn't step back. "You haven't said what your favorite pastime is," she reminds him, "But I'm thinking it very well could be."

He steps in closer still, almost touching her. "The chicken needs to thaw for a couple of hours."

"Plenty of time," she says, standing her ground, looking him in the eyes as he moves in.

He looks at her, unsure of what to do. They were going to bed, that much is certain. But how? He wants to rip her clothes off and fuck her until she screams, but after the comment last night, he's unsure of how to proceed. She said in the restaurant she wants to be fucked long and hard, but does she mean it?

She watches him, seeing the burning desire in his eyes, wondering what he's waiting on. He's never been hesitant before as he bulldozed her, and that's what she wants now, the conflict, the struggle for dominance. She feels bold and empowered, invincible, after their fuck Friday night, and she wants that feeling again. Finally, he bends down, gently touching his lips to hers, the kiss sweet and tender. No, no, no! This isn't what I want at all! I want to fuck, not this soft sweet and tender bullshit! She shoves him away hard, backing away from him, smiling wickedly.

"Huh-uh. Not like that. If you want me, you're going to have to take me," she taunts, hoping he gets the message.

He straightens, his face hardening slightly when she pushes him away. "So, we're back to fucking?"

"Without mercy. If you're up for it," she sneers, still backing slowly away.

He feels his eyes narrow. If she wants to be fucked without mercy, he can certainly accommodate her. He lunges at her, intending to grab her and drag her to him, but she's quick, damn quick, easily eluding his grab before turning and bolting out of the kitchen and down the hall.

She sees his eyes harden and she smiles. Oh yes, he's gotten the message, but she's going to make him work for it, the game exciting her. She carefully watches him, waiting for the grab she knows is coming, twisting and spinning just out of his reach before racing down the hall for his bedroom. It's going to get rough, really rough, and she wants somewhere soft to land.

He skids to a stop, getting his shoulder against the bedroom door just before she can get it shut. She's strong, much stronger than he'd have guessed, but she's no match for his brute strength, and he slowly muscles the door open. She puts up a valiant struggle, but when she realizes she can't keep him out, she abandons the door, allowing him to burst into the room.

She releases the door and runs to the opposite side of the bed. She thinks about running into the bathroom and trying to shut that door too, but decides that one of them could get hurt in there, going back to her original plan of taking him on his bed the first time. As he barges into the room behind her, she scrambles over his bed, aware that he's stopped on the opposite side. "You're just too fucking slow," she laughs, wishing he'd hurry up and catch her.

He stops, getting control of himself. Oh, he's going to give her what she's asking for, but he's going to have to be careful and not hurt her. He can tell she's waiting on him to make the next move, a smile on her face as she crouches slightly, preparing to run again. He smiles back at her. Oh yes, this is a good game. He begins to slowly move around the end of the bed, trying to determine if she's going to run or try to cross the bed again. As soon as she commits to crossing the bed he puts on a burst of speed, causing her to leap onto the bed. He then reverses course, quickly moving back the way he came, causing her to stop and turn as well. Her footing on the bed isn't as secure has his is on the floor and her stop and turn is sloppy and uncoordinated, just as he expected. He pivots and lunges over the end of the bed and grabs one of her ankles, causing her to shriek in surprise.

Despite her promise to herself she won't scream when he catches her, and there was never any doubt he will, eventually, catch her, the moment his hand clamps on her ankle she screams in surprise and excitement. Now the real battle is about to begin. He gives her ankle a hard tug and she tumbles to the bed, bouncing only once before he's on her. She whips her arms around, trying to keep them from his grasp but he has her pinned in moments, wrists pinned at her head, his weight holding her down. Fuck! I'm about to have an orgasm and we haven't even started yet.

He smirks down at her, his cock so hard he can feel it throbbing. "Are you sure this is what you want? For me to fuck you until you pass out again? Maybe this time I won't stop. Maybe I'll just keep fucking you. Maybe I'll keep fucking you until you come around, and then keep right on fucking you until you pass out again," he taunts.

"Fuck you, Mac," she sneers, thrusting against his body, so ready to fuck she can't keep her hips still. "You're not man enough for that."

He feels his anger well up at her words, but he pushes it back down, recognizing that she's goading him. He jerks her hands above her head, crossing her wrists so he can hold both of her hands in one of his own. She struggles to get her hands free, but he leans into his grip, using the bed to maintain his hold as he begins to roughly open her shirt.

Goddamn, he's strong! she fumes as she struggles ineffectively against his vise-like grip while he tears at her clothes, but fuck, he's making me hot. She pushes with her legs, trying to force him off her, trying to break his grip, trying anything to get free, grunting and straining in effort. He's too big, too strong to completely dislodge, but she's able to turn him enough that his grip on her wrists loosens enough that she can slip her lower wrist free. Before he can capture her hand again, she puts the heel of her hand to his chin and pushes as hard as she can to force his head back.

She tries pushing his head back as she continues to try to roll him over, his position giving him no leverage to resist the turn. He can easily slap the hand away, but decides it'll be more fun to let her turn him to see what she'll do. Allowing her to keep her hand under his chin, he resists the turn as much as he can while still opening her blouse. Using the advantage he's given her, she pushes and strains until she's finally able to roll him over.

She can't believe it, but she succeeds in pushing him off her! The moment his weight leaves her she lunges away from him, rolling to her feet on the floor and jerking her hand free of his grasp. She gets less than a step before his hand closes on her again, catching her by the blouse and the waist of her shorts. She strains against his grip, pulling him off the bed with a thump, the button on her pants tearing free. She stumbles and falls to the floor as her pants bind her legs. She kicks at Mac, pushing hard against his shoulders, being careful to avoid his face or hitting him too hard with her feet. She slips her pants and squirming out of her top as she struggles to her feet, dashing around to the opposite side of the bed again before stopping, waiting on him to get to his feet.

He allows her to slip his grip and squirm out of her clothes, which is all he really wants anyway. He's enjoyed some rough sex before, but this one is for the books, and he's so turned on, so hard, his cock is aching. Had she run for the door he'd have been right after her, but since she turned and ran around the bed, she's obviously content to stay in the room and duke it out with him here. He gets to his feet and turns. She's crouching on the other side of the bed, clad only in her brassiere and panties, ready to run again at any provocation. He smiles and begins to remove his shirt.

She watches him begin to undress, removing his shirt and then his pants. She toys with the idea of trying to dash past him when his pants are half off, but she doesn't put it past his ability to catch her anyway. And to be honest with herself, she doesn't want to get away. She wants him to catch her, and soon. While he removes his pants, she reaches behind her and removes her bra, dropping it to the floor before pushes her panties down and steps out of them. When the action starts, she doesn't want anything in the way. When he straightens, his cock standing proudly erect, she can feel her body respond. God, I hope he catches me soon!

He watches her, trying to determine his next move. If he can get her pinned down again it's all over for her because he'll give her the fucking of her life. If she wants to be fucked without mercy, he'll oblige her. But how to get his hands on her? He makes a feint to go around the end of the bed again, causing her to tense, but she doesn't bolt across the bed like the last time, perhaps remembering how easily he caught her. Seeing that she's going to wait until he comments he charges around the end of bed, but hurtles the corner, cutting off her path across the bed. She begins to back pedal, but it is too late, far too late.

She doesn't bite on his fakes, having learned her lesson about committing to an action too quickly, but when he leaps across the corner of the bed, she realizes she's trapped, unable to go any direction but backwards. She begins to back up, trying to gain some space to turn and run, but he's too fast and he has her before she takes two steps back, grabbing her arm and pulling her in before throwing her on the bed. The effortlessness of his toss frightens her until she lands softly, but before she realizes she's unhurt, he's on her again, forcing her down.

He picks her up and, as gently as tossing an egg, pitches her onto the bed, making sure she lands softly in the middle. As she falls, her arms pin-wheeling in surprise and a desperate attempt to catch her balance, he follows her into the bed, catching her again before she completes her first bounce, holding her to prevent her from falling off the bed, and to finally collect what he's caught.

She puts her hands up in a warding off gesture and crossing her legs in an effort to hold him back, to prevent him from taking what he's won, but knowing she might as well be trying to stop a bear. Nevertheless, she's going to make him work for it to the last. He opens her locked legs with gentle but inexorable force, his muscles bulging and rippling in effort as he forces them around his thighs, before he moves in and pushes his cock deep into her wetness. With a snarl, she wraps her legs around him and pulls him to her with all her strength.

When she wraps her legs around him, snarling in desire, he becomes lost in his lust. The chase, the taunts, the final struggle, they have all conspired to excite him beyond any recollection. With a deep snarl of his own, holding himself erect on his knees, he begins to thrust into her with a savagery he has never experienced, beyond even that of the out of control encounter in his hotel room. There's nothing now save an animal like need, a need that must be fulfilled at the most basic level.

The moment he starts to take her, her orgasm begins. The animal like ferocity of his face, the stark relief of his muscles as he gently overpowered her, and his growl of lust and pleasure as he fucks her, causing her to tumble into a mind-numbing orgasm. She's beyond words, every muscle in her body fighting against the other, her body warring with itself as the power of her orgasm strips her of all control.

Her orgasm takes her as she clamps down on his manhood with incredible force. With a grunt, then a roar, his orgasm overcomes him so quickly he has no time to try to forestall it. He shakes his head in defiance, wanting to give Kate a fucking without mercy, so he continues to drive into her, his own pleasure devastating him in its intensity as he continues to pummel her while he comes.

As he begins to cry out in his pleasure, she joins him in giving voice to the pleasure tearing at them. She needs him to stop, to let her catch her breath, to end the maddening torture of her orgasm, but she doesn't want him to stop, wanting this feeling to go on forever. Suddenly, he tears her legs from around his waist and pulls himself free before placing his hands on her thighs. She grabs at his hands, trying to hold him to her, desperate for him to continue. He can't stop now! He can't!

He forces himself out of her grasp, placing his hands on her hips and flipping her over. She immediately starts to rise onto her hands and knees, but he forces her down again. Moving his legs to either side of hers, he pushes himself back into her womanhood, settling his hips into her ass. She stops moving, moaning slightly at his entry as he takes her arms and pulled them above her head, holding her prone as he settles his body into hers. After a pause, to give her a chance to adjust to his weight and offer complaint, he begins to slam into her once more.

He settles onto her, his weight pressing her into the bed, her arms held straight out above her head as she turns her head to the side and groans in pleasure as his weight and their position immobilizing her. His body feels so incredibly hot against her skin he must be running a fever. She turns herself over to him, placing her pleasure in his hands, gasping in pleasure and complete surrender as he begins to drive into her once more.