Free Because You Are Mine Part IV: Because You Must Learn by Beth Kery Page B

pleasure—she thrust up with her hips. She yelped at the sudden stab of pain, barely noticing when Ian gave an intimidating growl and slapped the side of her hip in warning.
    “Stay still, Francesca. What are you trying to do, kill us both?”
    “No, I just . . .”
    “Never mind,” he said, and she realized his breath was coming in erratic puffs. “Is it better now?” he asked between pants after a moment.
    She realized he was referring to the pain she’d experienced. How had he known it’d been so sharp? It suddenly hit her that his penis was halfway inside her body. Her muscles stretched and thrummed around the throbbing flesh. It felt a little uncomfortable, but the sharp pain had passed.
    Ian inside her. Fused to her.
    “It doesn’t hurt,” she whispered, awe tingeing her tone.
    She saw his throat convulse as he swallowed. He removed his hand from her knee and reached between her thighs.
    “
Oh
,” she moaned when he began to press and rub against her clit with his thumb. He seemed to know the precise amount of friction to make her squirm in pleasure. The fullness of his embedded cock providing an upward pressure on her clitoris added another dimension of excitement.
    “Stop squirming,” he grated out, his tone a mixture of exasperation, fondness, and arousal near the breaking point. His manipulations were making her burn unbearably. He pressed with his hips. His groan seemed to rip at his throat as his cock drove almost completely into her. Only enough room for his hand between her thighs remained. Pain splintered through a thick, dense sensation of pressure and pleasure as he continued to stroke her.
    “Ian
,” she cried out.
    He thrust slightly with his hips, pressing his hand more firmly against her clit, and then bumping against it with his pelvis . . . once . . . twice. She mewled and began to shake in orgasm, her vagina clenching around him. This time, even through the waves of pleasure rushing around her, she knew that his growl was from arousal. She was still coming when he removed his hand from her pussy and braced himself with his arms. He grunted as he withdrew and sunk into her again.
    “Ah, God, your
pussy . . .
better than ever I imagined,” he groaned almost incoherently as he stroked her again, long and hard. “The only thing better is going to be having you raw.”
    She still whimpered as shudders of climax quaked her body. Ian made her tremble even more as his thrusts grew more demanding, his pelvis began to slap against hers in a demanding rhythm. He paused a moment later, fully embedded in her body, and ground his testicles against her spread outer sex. She cried out in excitement.
    “I don’t want to hurt you, but you’ve been driving me mad, Francesca,” he hissed.
    “You’re not hurting me.”
    “No?”
    She shook her head.
    She sensed the tension increase in his body. He began to fuck her again, his hips driving his cock like a fluid, thrusting piston this time. She bit off a scream, but it burned in her throat. She realized he’d been restraining himself before, but he fucked her thoroughly now . . . and not just thoroughly—with a skill that stunned her. His motion was subtle and raw at once, controlled yet wild. It felt as if he beat pleasure into her, stroked her flesh to flesh until she knew she’d burst into flame any moment. She began to bob her hips in a counter-rhythm, small cries popping out of her throat each time they crashed together with a sharp smacking sound of skin and against skin.
    “Jesus,” he groaned a moment later, sounding miserable and ecstatic at once. He shifted on the chaise, and drove into her with such force that the top of her head bumped against the back cushion. She dazedly realized he’d spread his legs entirely over the chaise and that his feet were now planted on the floor. He reared over both her and the chaise lounge and thrust, teeth bared in a snarl.
    “Ian, let me let go of the chair,” she begged when he