Because We Belong (Because You Are Mine 3)

His hands itching to touch such a flagrant display of erotic beauty, he leaned down and stroked the sides of her ribs, feeling her shiver. He squeezed her breasts into his hands, knowing just what she liked—a little rough, a little sweet, greedy, and even lewd. He slapped the side of one breast lightly, watching as she bit her lush lower lip to stifle a moan.

“You’re mine,” he said.

“Yes.”

He bent and ravished her mouth with his, continuing to stimulate her breasts, squeezing them together and finessing the nipples until she moaned feverishly against his stabbing tongue.

“Your mouth is so hot,” he muttered, straightening. “This is going to feel so good.” Without another word, he arrowed the fat, tapered head of his cock between her lips. She clamped around him immediately, sucking him deeper. He grimaced in pleasure, pulsing his hips, enjoying the sight of his cock stretching her pink lips and her dark eyes gazing up at him, so radiant . . . so giving . . . so helpless.

She had always been willing to accept her helplessness when it came to this thing between them. Why hadn’t he?

He growled in pleasure at the sensation of her pulling at him, tempting him deeper. He’d first taught her how to perform fellatio when she was bound, and he continued to have a preference for it thus, even now. She knew the only way she could control the act was with the movement of her head and her strong suck, and now he took away the former, gripping the hair at the back of her head so that she couldn’t drive him mad with her bobbing. It left only her suck, and she used what resource she had to perfection, making him snarl, his eyes rolling back in his head.

“There. Is that what you want?” he said roughly as he began to pulse his hips, fucking her mouth shallowly, sparing her throat. She almost imperceptibly nodded, her gaze never wavering from his face as he looked down at her. He continued to hold her immobile, using her for his pleasure, plunging his cock between her rigid lips. She sucked determinedly, her nostrils flaring. He gasped at the delicious sensation of the soft side of her cheeks brushing his stabbing cock.

They maintained eye contact as he carefully breached her throat. She shuddered, but quickly stilled herself. God, it felt divine.

He grunted gutturally and slid his cock out of her. She said nothing when he turned and hurried to the bathroom, coming back with a towel and a bottle of lubricant. He’d washed the towels when he arrived, so he knew they were clean. He’d washed the sheets, too, but the bedding itself was dusty and moth-eaten; it was only a matter of time before the sheets grew befouled. Francesca shouldn’t come into contact with that bedding.

He shoved back the heavy velvet coverlet. A puff of dust rose when the bedspread landed. He quickly lay down two clean towels and returned for Francesca, helping her to rise. She just stared up at him as he reached around her and unbound her wrists, then begun to undress her.

“Do you remember the evening . . . before I left?” he asked hoarsely, removing her shirt and bra and unfastening her jeans. She didn’t try to help him, but stood there compliantly while he undressed her.

“I’ll never forget it,” she said.

He glanced up at her face, pausing in the process of working her jeans and underwear over her hips and ass, her smoky voice capturing his attention.

“I must have watched the tape of your face a thousand times,” he said starkly. He blinked, rising out of the spell of her eyes, and bent to remove her boots and socks. “I used to watch it here. In this filthy room. You think I’ve been obsessed by Trevor Gaines, but I was obsessed by the image of you giving yourself to me.”

He stood, having removed all her clothes. He cupped her jaw. “I’m going to make love to you now like I did that night, like I’ve thought about doing in this room too many times to count. It was the image of you that kept me going when I was so alone here in this cursed place. Now you’re here.”

“Yes. I’m here with you,” she said in a low, quavering voice.

He moved her toward the bed and the spread towels. He urged her sit at the edge, where he again bound her hands, this time in front of her.

“Now lie back and place your hands above your head. That’s right,” he muttered thickly, adjusting her slightly so that when she lay back, her bottom was at the very edge of the bed. “Now bend your knees toward your chest.”

He stared down at her positioned body as he began to undress.

* * *

She trembled with excitement and love as she watched him remove his clothing, twisting her head on the mattress to see what she could between her bent knees of his muscular thighs, large, erect cock, narrow hips, tight-as-a-drum abdomen, and powerful chest. She licked her lower lip, almost tasting her anticipation as he poured some of the silky lubricant onto his fingers and placed the bottle next to her on the bed. He stepped between her thighs, so big and powerful. The thrill of submission that went through her at that moment, perhaps the strongest she’d ever experienced—pure and concentrated, true and complete. He grasped her knees and rolled them back, exposing her sex and ass to him. He slipped his middle finger into her anus, and she moaned.

Neither of them looked away from the other’s face as he finger-fucked her ass, his arm moving faster and more stringently as time passed, their breathing coming more erratically. After he’d prepared her sufficiently, he lubricated himself and pushed the thick head of his cock against the resisting hole.

“Press against it, lovely,” he rasped.

She pushed with her hips, moaning at the pain as he slipped into her ass. He opened both hands on her hips, holding her secure, and began to pulse in and out of her.