Because You Are Mine Part IV: Because You Must Learn (2 page)

“Come here,” she insisted when she felt him resist. He hesitated for a moment, but then he came down over her, his solid, heavy weight pressing into her body striking her as a miracle.

“I was so primed for you. I haven’t . . . there hasn’t been anybody else for weeks now. Not typical for me. I could feel it building up inside me, and I was worried . . . the condom wasn’t enough. Stupid,” he muttered between pants.

She kissed his shoulder and stroked his broad, heaving back. Something full and inexplicable swelled in her chest at his admission that he’d abstained from his usual sexual practices.

Had
she
had something to do with his abstinence?

No. Surely not.

It frightened her a little, his complexities, his determined loneliness. She continued to caress him as he came back to himself, her gaze glued to the enigmatic face of their onlooker, wondering numbly all the while if Aphrodite planned to bless or curse them.

* * *

He seemed lost in some private world on the drive to the hotel, even though he sat next to her in the back seat of the limo, his arm around her, her head resting on his chest, him stroking her hair. At first, she was worried he was regretting his momentary vulnerability back there at the museum—his admission—but then she began to relax into his silence. She watched through heavy eyelids as the lights of Paris rushed by the window, recalling all the details of what had unexpectedly occurred in that salon in vivid detail.

Surely he couldn’t regret a moment of that incredible experience, could he?

The Hotel George V was just off the Champs-Elysées. To call it luxurious was a bit of an understatement, Francesca thought as she followed Ian onto the gilt elevator. She gasped when he opened the door for her and she stepped into an antique-filled living room featuring rich fabrics, a marble fireplace, and original seventeenth- and eighteenth-century artwork.

“This way,” he directed, leading her into a bedroom fit for royalty.

“Oh, it’s beautiful,” she murmured, touching the rich damask and silk bed coverings and gazing around the tastefully decorated room.

His gaze ran over her as he removed his jacket and hung it over a valet stand.

“The hotel was close to where my meeting is tomorrow. I have to get up early. I’ll probably be gone by the time you wake up. You must look at the view on the terrace come morning. I think you’ll like it. I’ll order you breakfast, and you can dine out there, if you like. You look very tired.”

She blinked at his change of subject. “I am, I suppose. It’s been a long day. I can’t believe it was just this morning that I left High Jinks. It all seems a little . . . surreal.” In truth, she felt like a different person than the one who had answered Ian’s knock this morning . . . even than the one that first entered the Musee de St. Germain that night. Ian’s powerful lovemaking had altered her somehow.

She glanced at him nervously, uncertain about what he wanted her to do.

“Why don’t you get ready for bed,” he said gruffly, pointing at the entrance to the adjoining bathroom. “Jacob brought up our things while we were at dinner. You’ll find your bag in there.”

“Would you rather go first?” she asked.

He shook his head as he began to remove his cuff links. “I’ll use the bathroom in the other suite.”

“There’s another bedroom suite?”

He nodded. “Jacob usually stays there.”

“But not this time?”

He glanced up at her. “No. Not this time. I wanted you all to myself.”

Her pulse began to thrum at her throat as she turned and walked to the bathroom. She carefully removed the dress, bra, and pearls, Ian’s words still echoing in her skull.

Looking in the bathroom mirror, she saw what Ian must have noticed as he studied her before. Her face looked pale next to her passion-stung, reddened lips. Her eyes appeared unusually large above the shadowed circles beneath them. She wanted to shower but was suddenly too exhausted. She washed at the sink instead and brushed her teeth. She stared in rising dread at her nylon duffel bag sitting on a stool with a gold pouf cushion. It looked woefully out of place in these surroundings.

Just like she did, no doubt.

After an evening like she just experienced, she felt ridiculous putting on the yoga pants and Cubs T-shirt she’d brought as a substitute for pajamas. She applied moisturizer and ran a comb through her hair before she walked out of the bathroom. She went still when she saw Ian standing in profile by the lush sofa, tapping on his cell phone. Her gaze ran over him in covetous awe. He wore nothing but a pair of black pajama bottoms that rode low on his lean hips. The upward slant of his torso from narrow waist to a broad, powerful chest, back, and shoulders struck her as sublime. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on him. He was so disciplined, she could just imagine what his workout routine was like. The short, dark hair at his nape and temples was slightly damp from his wash.

She’d never seen a more beautiful man in her life. She was certain she never would again.

He glanced around and saw her standing there. She shifted awkwardly on her feet beneath his laserlike stare. He abruptly looked away and resumed his task.

“Why don’t you get into bed?” he asked, tapping out a message.

She started to remove the decorative pillows and pull down the decadently luxurious bedding.

“Take off your clothes,” he said from across the room when she started to get into bed. She paused and glanced back at him. He hadn’t looked up from his phone. Her breath started to come erratically as she began to undress.

Why didn’t he look at her like he had on the plane when she stripped, his gleaming blue eyes tracking her every move?

She got into bed and pulled a sheet and blanket over herself. Ian remained on the other side of the room, only his thumbs moving. Her eyelids grew heavy; the bed was very soft and warm. She drifted.

There was a click, and her eyes flew open. Ian had shut out the light. She felt the mattress sink beneath him as he got into the bed next to her. He came down on his side, pulling her into his arms, her back to his stomach. She could feel that he still wore the pajama bottoms, also . . . that he wore nothing beneath the thin garment.

Suddenly, she was wide awake.

“How come you get to wear pajamas, and I have to be naked?” she asked into the darkness.

He brushed her hair off her shoulder and stroked her, sending tendrils of pleasure through her.

“I’ll often be dressed while you’re naked.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” she said, her breath hitching when his long fingers brushed over the top curve of one of her breasts. She felt his cock stir next to her bottom. Her clit twanged in pleasure, as if in response.

“It pleases me to be able to touch you in any way, at any time that I desire it.”

“While you get to remain clothed and in control?” she asked, a hint of anger entering her tone.

“While I get to remain clothed and in control,” he repeated in affirmation.

“But—”

“There’s no ‘but’ about it,” he said as he caressed her ass, a smile in his voice. His cock batted against her, and he sighed, withdrawing his hand. “You shouldn’t be complaining, Francesca,” he chastised, settling her more firmly against him. “My control is already whisper thin when it comes to you. You need only look at tonight to have your proof of that.”

“It was amazing,” she whispered, awe filtering into her tone.

He went still for a moment, and then reached between her thighs. She gasped in excitement when he pushed his fingers gently between her legs and cupped her sex, the gesture both tender and baldly possessive.

“I power drove you like I might have the most experienced of women, and you . . . a virgin,” he murmured, a thread of anger in his voice.

She flushed with heat at his crude words.
Power drive
was right. She’d been completely at his mercy lying on the chaise lounge, and loving every minute of his masterful possession.

“I’m not a virgin anymore,” she said shakily. “We could do it again, and you wouldn’t have to worry so much this time.”

His cock lurched against her again. For a few seconds, she sensed his tension . . . his indecision.

He slowly removed his hand from her sex. “No. Tomorrow is soon enough. I have many things I want to teach you. You deserve at least one night to recover.”

“What things?” she whispered.

“You’ll find out soon enough. Now go to sleep. I have a big day planned for you tomorrow.”

Hearing that hardly made her sleepy. Nevertheless, after a minute, she found herself relaxing against Ian’s body, taking comfort in his hard, warm presence.

* * *

Ian rose out of a deep sleep and dark, sensual dreams to find Francesca’s naked body plastered against him, a raging hard-on pressed against her soft, curving bottom, his hand filled with a firm breast.

Jesus.

He grimaced as he twisted his torso to see the clock, keeping a hand on Francesca’s hip the whole time, keeping her lush ass in close contact with his cock. She sensed his movement and twitched her hips in her sleep, making him grind his teeth at the stimulation on his erection.

He picked up his phone and shut off the alarm that was about to go off at any second. Instead of getting up, like he should have, he set the phone back on the bedside table and whisked his pajama bottoms down below his balls, freeing his swollen cock from the material. He pulled Francesca closer, flexing his hips and burrowing his cock deeper in the sweet, warm cleft between her ass cheeks. God, it felt good, he thought as he pushed the thick column of his erection even deeper, sandwiching himself between her buttocks. The sexual excitement that had built in him as he held her naked body all night—that had been building ever since he’d exploded in climax at the St. Germain—swelled high and strong. He held her hip steady and flexed his hips, snarling at the pleasure that tore through him as his cock burrowed once more between the satiny-smooth, firm globes.

He became aware that she rustled next to him. He heard her gasp and softly say his name, but he was so caught up in the unexpected deliciousness of the early morning sexual spell she’d cast upon him, all he could do was thrust and grunt and take his pleasure. His cock felt huge and tight, exquisitely sensitive as he drug it back forth between the warm, snug crack of her ass. She tried to reach around to touch him, but he caught her hand and placed it next to her belly, holding it there as he continued his mad humping of her sweet bottom.

Since when could he become so sexually frantic just from the feeling of a woman’s ass?

“Give me a moment,” he said harshly, continuing to stroke her rapidly. “It’s not going to take much more.”

Sure enough, he broke in climax just a few thrusts later. He ground his teeth together and watched himself come onto her lower back and the upper curve of her right ass cheek.
Jesus, what she does to me,
he thought as he tensed and ejaculated, tensed and ejaculated, wondering wildly if the shuddering pleasure would ever end. He slumped over her, breathing heavily. She whimpered when he leaned back to grab some tissues, and he dried his abundant emissions from her skin.

He glanced up and did a double take. She’d turned her head on the pillow. Her cheeks were a brilliant pink, her lips flushed red. He tossed aside the wet tissues and leaned over her.

“Did that arouse you?” he asked, kissing her lips softly. “Letting me use your body for my pleasure?”

“Yes,” she said next to his lips.

“Just for that, you get to come, too, lovely,” he said.

He slid his fingers between her clenched thighs and found her delightfully creamy. She gasped, turning her head away from him, pressing her cheek to the pillow. He smiled as he slid his finger between her labia and diddled her clit.

“I want to be able to come inside you, Francesca. All over you,” he murmured, leaning over, breathing next to her ear. “Wouldn’t you like that, too?”

“Oh, yes.”

“You’re going to have to go on birth control, then.”

“Yes,” she soughed as he rubbed her gently . . . firmly.

Persuasively.

He watched her profile closely as he stimulated her, fascinated by the flutter in her delicate eyelids and the deepening of color in her cheeks. Her parted lips beckoned him.

“I’m going to restrain you later,” he murmured. “And teach you how to please me even more than you already do. Will you like that?”

“Yes,” she said, her trembling lips killing him. He plucked at them as he rubbed her clit harder. She bobbed her hips against him, and he gave her what she needed, moving his entire arm as he stroked her forcefully. “I
want
to please you, Ian.”

“You do,” he growled, kissing her roughly, abusing her lush mouth a little. A lot. “And you will.”

She cried out and quaked against him. He nursed her through her climax, excitement and anticipation mounting in his body as he thought about coming to the suite later and finding her there, ready to submit to his desire . . . to her own.

He kissed her neck while she quieted, occasionally lapping at the sweet taste on her skin. Her soft moan vibrated into his lips.

“The laws are a bit more lenient in Paris regarding birth control. I know a pharmacist who can get us several months’ worth. You could get started right away,” he murmured.

He paused in his ravishment of her neck when he felt her stiffen.

“I wouldn’t have to see a doctor?”

“Eventually, when you return stateside, yes. But the sooner you get started, the better. I could have Jacob pick up the delivery, and you could start on the pill this very day. I spoke with the pharmacist. You don’t have any health risks, do you? High blood pressure, history of stroke?”

“No, I’m perfectly healthy. I just had a physical last month.” She was turned in profile to him. She tilted her chin and regarded him with dark, soft eyes. “Of course I’ll start on the pill. I know how important it is to you, Ian.”

“Thank you,” he said, dropping a kiss on her mouth, thinking all the while that she didn’t know the half of how important it was.

* * *

Francesca snuggled in bed as Ian got up to get ready for his meeting, lazy and content in the aftermath of kisses and climax. She dozed, opening her eyes sleepily a while later to see Ian standing at the edge of the bed looking down at her, looking awesomely gorgeous in a dark suit, starched white shirt, and pale blue silk necktie, his spicy aftershave tickling her nose.