“Sweetest ass in the world,” he said, his blue-eyed gaze boring down on her face. “Sweetest everything.” He appeared to be utterly rapt as he deepened his strokes, impaling the snug flesh, his manner not harsh, but firm. Demanding.
His pelvis bumped against her ass cheeks.
“Look at you,” he said, pausing, his chest heaving, perspiration gilding his muscular torso. “God, it can’t be possible, but you’re giving even more of yourself tonight.” The realization seemed to enflame him. She saw the flash of lust in his blue eyes. He thrust, their skin smacking together. “Aren’t you?” he asked more harshly as he began to pump, fucking her in earnest.
“Yes,” she moaned, overwhelmed by the sensation of being filled by him, inundated by forbidden, delicious pressure. Her head twisted on the mattress. “Use me,” she pleaded. “I’m here, Ian. Use me for whatever you need.”
He growled viciously and accepted her invitation. She watched him as he abandoned himself to his own dark, primal nature, pushing down on her calves so that her knees pressed tightly against her breasts, fucking her with long, forceful, thorough strokes. Her clit throbbed and burned at the vision, but she strangely didn’t wish he’d see to her pleasure. It was a thrill enough to see him lose himself. He’d always expressed amazement that she could give herself so trustingly to him, but at that moment, he trusted himself enough to give completely to her.
“Yes. Just like that,” she chanted between swollen lips. “Fuck me so hard.”
The ancient bed began to rattle on the wood floor from his forceful possession. She stared dazedly at the trembling canopy above her, utterly consumed.
“Look at me,” he ordered roughly.
She stared at him, panting for breath, as he flexed his hips powerfully. She whimpered as he drove into her. He jerked and swelled inside her. He released one calf, reaching between her legs, his thumb finding her clit.
“Ooh,” she mewled, her eyes springing wide as he rubbed the burning piece of flesh. Her ass tightened around him and he snarled.
“Tell me,” he said.
“I love you,” she gasped, shuddering in orgasm. He grunted and his cock convulsed as he began to climax.
“Always,” he grated out, jerking his hips, fucking her even as he came.
Chapter Sixteen
Francesca laughed softly after they showered together, incredulous and touched at the fact that Ian was truly worried about her sleeping in the bed.
“Ian, it’ll be fine,” she insisted, capturing his hand in the motion of spreading more towels and even some of his clean shirts on the mattress.
He scowled. “This place is disgusting. I really don’t want to think about what might live in that mattress.”
“You lived here all the time you were gone, right?” she asked, crawling onto the large bed. When she settled, her cheek pressed against one of Ian’s casual shirts on the pillow. She inhaled the familiar scent of freshly laundered cotton. It was nice, even nicer when he crawled into bed next to her and flipped the sheet over them.
“Yeah,” he replied, laying down on his side and facing her.
“You never got bit by anything, did you?” she asked, smiling as her gaze ran over his face. Her heart seemed to swell in her breast. He was so beautiful to her.
“I might have. To be honest, I was so numb, I wouldn’t have noticed.”
“Are you going to grow a beard?” she asked, running her fingertips over his jaw.
“I don’t know.” He noticed her quirked eyebrows. “I never really think about things like grooming or bedbugs while I’m here.”
“You just thought about understanding Trevor Gaines better.”
She swallowed thickly when his gaze flashed up to meet hers. She sensed his caution.
“What will you do with all the information you gather about him?” Francesca asked.
“I don’t know,” he mumbled, catching her stroking hand and planting a kiss in the center of her palm. She wasn’t put off. She placed her hand back on his jaw. He glanced up at her, seeing the question remain in her eyes.
“I thought I could write it all down in some kind of organized way. Try to make sense of it all.”
“You mean, like write a book?”
“Not really. Just a compilation of facts,” he said, flipping onto his back and staring up at the canopy. She suspected she was making him uncomfortable, but sensed he wasn’t fully retreating from her. She waited patiently. “Not anything to be published. Just for me. And for . . .” He shrugged.
“What?”
“For anyone else who wanted to read it,” he rasped after a moment.
Her neck prickled with awareness. She propped herself up on her elbow, looking down at his face. “You mean like Trevor Gaines’s other children?” she asked quietly.
His gaze flickered over her. “Yes. Like Kam and Lucien, or whoever might turn up. It might help us all. To understand . . . even if the picture is ugly. It would be complete. As complete as it can be anyway.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke. A full feeling grew in her chest.
“I think it’s a good idea,” she said after a moment.
“You do?” He looked surprised.
She nodded, holding his stare. “Will you promise me one thing?”
“I’ll try.”
“That you’ll do other things besides this? Work and spend time with your family and live.”
His nostrils flared slightly. “Yes. All right.”
She heaved a sigh of relief and placed her cheek on his chest. His arm curled around her and he ran his fingers through her hair.