Because You Are Mine (Because You Are Mine #1)(59)
She nodded, the trust and arousal he saw in her velvety eyes making him clench his jaw hard. He held her stare as he thrust forward and felt the tight ring of her throat enclose the tip of his cock. A shudder of pleasure went through him. She blinked and gagged but contained herself sufficiently not to balk. He groaned and slid out of her throat. “That’s right. Breathe through your nose,” he soothed even as he thrust into her again. This time, he grimaced when his cock leapt in excitement while lodged in her throat. “I’m sorry,” he rushed to say as he withdrew. He cringed inwardly when he saw two tears run down her cheek.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
She widened her eyes as if to reassure him, and nodded, causing his cock to bob. He grimaced as pleasure stabbed through him at the sign of her eagerness . . . her generosity. Thank God, because she was loveliness personified. He knew he wouldn’t stop. He knew he couldn’t.
He held her head with both hands, holding her stare as he thrust shallowly in and out of her clamped lips, drying the teardrops on her cheek with his thumbs. The glow of arousal had only grown stronger in the dark orbs of her eyes in the past several minutes, but he saw something else there; something that seemed to bless his sin.
“You please me beyond measure,” he said.
He held her steady and thrust into her throat yet again. He lost himself for a minute, everything going black as he took his pleasure in Francesca’s sweet mouth and she granted every one of his desperate, depraved wishes. His eyes sprang wide when he felt her shudder while he was thrust deep. He started to withdrawal in deference to her discomfort but realized she wasn’t gagging.
“Sweet Francesca,” he grated out, emotion swelling high, bewildering him, when he realized she was coming yet again.
He exploded into her throat, roaring as brutal pleasure tore through him. Even so, he still had the presence of mind to withdraw, coming as he thrust on her tongue. His face clenched tight as he watched her, unable to look away from the spellbinding image of her flagrantly pink cheeks, the helpless expression in her shiny dark eyes as she succumbed to the bliss of having pleased him so well.
Her slender throat convulsed as she swallowed. He continued to shudder and come, unable to stop the scorching waves of pleasure even though Francesca appeared to be having difficulty keeping up with his ejaculations. His suspicion was confirmed when she moaned, her clamping hold on his cock loosening momentarily, and some of his semen spilled from the corner of her lips.
He gasped uncontrollably and clenched his eyes shut, another sharp jolt of climax shaking him, the vision of her burning into his brain. How could an innocent make him so helpless, flay him to the bone, turn him inside out until he felt as raw, as naked, as exposed as he insisted she become for him?
The wild thought made him crack open his eyelids. His clawing hands had loosened her rose-gold hair from the clips at the back of her head. Mussed tendrils of the silky stuff fell down around her white shoulders and brushed her cheek. Her eyes were like dark beacons. He stared down at her lush, erotic beauty like she was the first thing a recovering blind man saw.
He slowly withdrew his cock from her mouth. Her sustained suction caused a wet, popping sound when he cleared her lips. He briefly shut his eyes at the cruelty of being separated from her warmth.
Neither of them spoke as he helped her to her feet and unbuckled the handcuffs. She whimpered softly when he turned off the vibrator.
“I had it on too high for you,” he said, his voice sounding flat to his own ears, perhaps because he knew he lied. The vibrator wasn’t that concise or powerful. She’d come repeatedly while he’d ravished her, while he’d used her mouth for his pleasure, because she was so sweet and so responsive and . . .
. . . far more than you ever expected or planned for.
He paused in the action of loosing the straps of the hands-free vibrator.
“Ian?” she asked. He winced when he heard the raspy sound of her voice.
“Yes?” he asked, avoiding her gaze as he mechanically began to replace the things he’d brought into the room back into the bag.
“Is . . . Was everything all right?”
“It was fantastic. You once again surpassed my expectations.”
“Oh . . . because . . . you seem sort of . . . unhappy.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said quietly, readjusting his clothing and zipping his pants. He looked at her, determinedly ignoring her flagrant beauty and the confused expression in her dark eyes. “Why don’t you shower in here, and I’ll use the other bathroom? Afterward, I’ll order us dinner.”
“Okay,” she said, the uncertainty in her voice cutting at him.
Still, no matter how sharp the sting, he started to walk out of the room. He stopped abruptly and turned, his control faltering. She hadn’t moved. He held out his arms.
“Come here,” he said.
She flew across the room. He hugged her to him tightly, inhaling the scent of her hair. Her breasts were a delicious, erotic fullness pressed against his ribs. He wanted to tell her how exquisite the experience had been—how exquisite she was—but for some reason, his heart began to beat uncomfortably hard. He didn’t like the way he’d felt exposed there at the end . . . weakened by his need for her.
Still, her mouth tempted him. He kissed her with focused restraint, aware of her probable soreness. Her sweet sigh against his mouth made him want to take her over to the bed and spend the night with his lips and nose buried in her silky, fragrant skin. The fantasy of doing just that plagued him.