Because You Are Mine (Because You Are Mine #1)(46)
Author: Beth Kery

“You’re so beautiful,” he said roughly.

“I . . . I what?” she asked, still bewildered and stunned by his kiss.

He smiled and stroked her cheek softly. “Get into the backseat and take off your jeans and panties. I have to taste you. Now.”

She stared at him openmouthed and then looked out the car window anxiously.

“No one is around. Even if someone did pass by or someone studied the museum surveillance, the windows are tinted. Now do as I say,” he said gently. “I’ll join you there in a moment.”

She unbuckled her seat belt, her breathing still erratic, and opened the driver’s-side door. A steady rain had started to fall, so she slammed the door shut quickly and dashed for the rear. She felt extremely awkward and excited when she got into the plush interior of the rear of the cab. Ian was still sitting in the passenger seat, his head lowered. She wondered if he was tapping his fingers on his cell phone, and felt sure that he was.

Slowly, she began to unbuckle her belt and unfasten her button fly.

When she’d removed her jeans and panties, she sat there feeling foolish. He didn’t move. Her pussy tingled against the taut, smooth seat. She shifted restlessly, wincing at the pleasurable friction of her sensitive tissue against cool leather. What was Ian doing? She opened her mouth to tell him she’d removed her jeans, but he abruptly whipped off his seat belt.

She didn’t think she drew a breath until he joined her a moment later in the shadowed interior of the cab. He slammed the door closed. With him on the seat with her, the space suddenly felt smaller and more intimate. In the distance, thunder rumbled and rain pitter-pattered on the roof.

He glanced over at her, wiping his hand over his slightly rain-dampened, dark hair.

“You know what I want,” he said quietly. “Lie back and make your pussy available to me.”

His deep voice echoed around her head in the ensuing silence. Her sex throbbed and prickled with excitement. She couldn’t help but recall the pure, distilled pleasure he’d given her last night with his mouth. She did her best to find a position to accommodate him. For once, he wasn’t instructing her. He just watched as she leaned against the door and spread her thighs as wide as she could, given the barrier of the backseat. Her heart was pounding against her breastbone by the time she settled. Her anticipation was so sharp, it pressed down uncomfortably on her chest. He sat unmoving, his gaze glued between her thighs.

Suddenly he sat forward and pushed on her outer knee, sending her sandal-covered foot to the floorboard of the car, spreading her wider. The vision of his dark head lowering between her legs was so exciting, she bit off a moan before he ever touched her.

She whimpered when he placed his entire open mouth over her outer sex. It felt hot and wet and unbearably exciting. He moved his lips erotically against her clit, applying a taut pressure, and then parted her labia with his sleek tongue. He shifted, burying his face more intimately in her sex, lashing at her clit more forcefully than he had last night, rubbing it, circling it, pressing it so ruthlessly that she screamed and bucked her hips.

He held her steady with his hands, forcing her to take her pleasure full-on. She grabbed onto his head, feeling herself burn and melt beneath him. He ate her with a tight focus, his actions almost angry they were so relentless, as if her pussy had done something to offend him . . . like he needed to show it who was master.

He was, Francesca thought through a haze of sexual heat. Her head fell against the window with a thud, but she was heedless. How could she experience discomfort when she was swimming in bliss?

What sort of a fool was she to take him as a lover? When he walked away from her, she’d never be satisfied with another. She’d be ruined for life.

He used his fingers to part her sex lips. He lifted his head and began to whip her clit hard, pressing and agitating until she called out to him in a frenzy of lust. The vision of him tonguing her sex was indecently lewd . . . unbearably exciting. Her fingers gripped in his short hair, and she cried out sharply.

She exploded in climax, holding on to his head as if she thought she was drowning and he was her only lifesaver. He continued to eat her as she shook, keeping her right on the crest of her climax for what seemed like forever, demanding she give him his due. Just when she fell limp, thinking he’d squeezed every last blast of pleasure from her, he’d move his head or his tongue in such a way that she shuddered again.

He coaxed one last shiver out of her a moment later, before he lifted his head. Her vagina clenched tight when she saw that his lower face glistened with her juices. She panted for air as he regarded her soberly.

“I want to be able to do that to you,” she whispered, meaning it with every ounce of her spirit. What a powerful gift he had the power to give. She wanted to reciprocate.

“Have you ever? Used your mouth to pleasure a man?”

She shook her head. He grunted, and she couldn’t tell if he was pleased or irritated. Perhaps both.

“I didn’t think so. You’ll learn, but those aren’t the type of lessons that should be given in the backseat of a car,” he said before he sat up. She watched as he closed his eyes tightly for a second and put his hand over his mouth. He dropped his hand and glanced over at her, his distracted gaze once again fixing on her pussy and narrowing. Again, he clamped his eyelids shut.

“Get dressed,” he said grimly, reaching for the car door. “I’m taking you back to the hotel, and you’re going to deliver on your promise.”

The stark anticipation she’d experienced when he’d told her to get into the backseat began to mount again as she reached for her clothing.

Chapter Ten

Ian didn’t say anything on the rainy drive home, and Francesca was too keyed up to push any conversation. It was as if something had happened back there in the car that she couldn’t understand. Some sort of nameless, thick tension seemed to fill the air between them. She would have thought it was the low pressure from the storm but knew it didn’t exude from rain clouds.

Ian was the source.

When they arrived at the hotel and pulled beneath the entrance canopy, a young, energetic valet greeted Ian by name. Ian gave him some directions about returning the car to the rental agency in English and then handed him the keys along with a wad of cash.

“Thank you, Mr. Noble,” the valet gushed appreciatively in heavily accented English. “Never worry that the car will be returned very fast. I’ll see to it myself.”

“You don’t have to worry. The car will be returned very quickly,” Ian said distractedly as he took Francesca’s hand.