Because We Belong

“He’s not going to shoot me. At least I don’t think so. He apparently had the opportunity plenty of times before and never did,” he said, still stroking her cheek, his expression thoughtful.

“That’s not all that reassuring,” she replied desperately.

“I’m sorry. If I can’t explain it to you, then I don’t know what to do,” he said in a pressured tone. “I’m telling you there are answers here for me. About Trevor Gaines. About who he was. About how I got here on this earth.”

“How is knowing all that going to make a difference to you?” she asked wildly.

He clamped his eyes together, his expression so frustrated it made it her want to weep. “I’m telling you that it makes a difference to me because it does. I’m telling you that it does, what else can I say to convince you? If I can figure things out, make sense of it in my mind—”

“But it’s mad,” she interrupted, growing frantic.

He opened his eyes slowly, spearing her with his stare. His brow furrowed slightly. Francesca froze when she saw his dawning comprehension.

“That’s what you think? That I’m going mad?”

“I . . .” She shook her head, her mind spinning. Did she think he was losing his mental facilities? “No. No,” she repeated, realizing it was true. He was emotionally overwrought, but he wasn’t a madman. She met his stare, pleading for him to understand. “I’m just . . . scared. It terrified me, thinking of you digging around in that man’s possessions, trying to understand him.”

Her shaky admission seemed to hover in the air between them.

“I’m a little scared, too,” he admitted after a moment. “But not of the same thing you are. Not of going mad. Not anymore anyway.”

“What then?” she whispered, pulling closer to his heat.

“Of not being able to understand. If I can’t wrap my head around who my biological father was, I can’t . . .” He gritted his teeth and winced. “I can’t get the poison of him out of me. I don’t know how else to put it. If you’d just let me, I can do this, Francesca. I believe it now, more than ever. With Lucien here, with all the research I’ve already compiled, even catching a glimpse of Kam Reardon’s life tonight, I’m starting to get a hold on who Trevor Gaines was.” His eyes looked a little wild as he clutched tighter at her head. “If I can’t do this, I can’t feel right about being with you forever. I don’t want to taint you—”

“You would never do that!”

“Damn it, Francesca,” he shouted harshly. “This is my worry. This is my burden, and I’m trying to make it go away. I’m not doing this to be stubborn, or because I’m going mad. I’m not doing this because I want to alienate you! I’m doing this because I have to if I want to be with you. And that’s all . . . I want . . . in the world,” he grated succinctly out between white, clenched teeth.

She just stared at him, her heart pounding, unable to draw breath.

“Ian,” she exhaled, a convulsion of emotion going through her. “Ian, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. The last thing you should be doing is apologizing,” he whispered harshly, grimacing, absorbing her shudders. “It pains me to see you in this place, but . . .” He shook his head and swallowed, loosening his hold on her and caressing her temple. “It strangely helps, too, I think. I don’t know. It’s strange. Tonight, I feel like it really is possible to maybe wrap my head around this whole nightmare. And I really don’t think it’s just because of Lucien being here, or discovering what an . . . interesting person Kam Reardon really is.”

“I don’t want you to feel alone,” she said. “If I’ve made you feel that way, because you knew I wouldn’t accept any of this, I’m sorry. That was selfish of me. I thought you were the one being selfish with all this, but I was wrong.”

He leaned down, tilting her face up. He kissed her hard. Gentle. She didn’t know which, and never did when it came to Ian. She felt his body stir and pressed closer, desirous of his heat and hardness.

“You are the most generous woman I know,” he said against her lips a moment later. “The last thing you’re being is selfish.”

“You always think this poison you speak of is going to taint me, Ian,” she murmured breathily. “But love is the strongest antidote to your fears . . . and yes . . . even against this supposed taint.” She combed her fingers through his thick, short hair, scraping his scalp. He closed his eyes and groaned. “Let me make love to you here. Right here. In the middle of all your darkness,” she said emphatically as she began to kiss his jaw, tenderly abrading her lips with his whiskers. She kissed his leaping pulse and he started.

“No,” he said harshly, running his hands along her arms and captured her wrists. He held her and stepped away. His eyes shone with barely restrained emotion. “But you came, and I can’t change that. And now that you’re here, I have to have you. I suffered too much in this very room, your absence like a gaping hole inside me. I can’t turn you away now. So I will make love to you. And then we’ll both know if what you say is true, or if I am just using you to chase away the shadows.”

He transferred her wrists to the small of her back and held them there with one hand. He bent down, forcing her back to arch, and began to devour her.

* * *

He became even more quickly intoxicated by her taste tonight, as greedy as he was for it. How he wanted to believe what she said was true, that her sweetness wasn’t just a temporary escape from all this darkness, but a true home.

His rightful place.

He used his free hand to touch her, relishing restraining her supple body in the taut arch, knowing she was his to do with as he pleased, all because it was her pleasure as well. She was a decadence he couldn’t believe he deserved, but he must, because her eagerness was inescapable. His cock swelled at the sensation of the taut lines of her back and ribs, the delicious round, firmness of her breasts beneath the fitted button-down shirt. He filled his hand with her, absorbed her soft moan into his mouth, felt her heat begin to resonate from her sex against his belly. His cock reared almost furiously.

He hissed and broke their kiss, releasing his hold on her wrists. Taking a step back with a goal in mind, he paused abruptly at the vision she made. Her lips were dark pink, damp and parted, her cheeks flushed. Her dark gold, red-tinted hair fell in loose waves down her back and arms. Her dark eyes shone with lust and love, her gaze like a steamy blessing.

He strode rapidly to the edge of the room, where there was a wooden bench. Ian thought it once might have served the purpose of being a location for placing shoes and slippers, but the lowness of the seat was what he wanted for his purpose. He lifted it and rapidly carried it to where Francesca stood, watching him silently. He set it down, his gaze once again glued to her luminous face and pink, lush lips.

She really was here.

“Sit,” he rasped. The bench was much lower than a normal chair, so when she sat she was at kneeling level.

“I don’t like to think of you kneeling on that disgusting carpet,” he muttered, holding her stare as he fleetly unfastened his button fly. Her nostrils flared slightly as her gaze lowered over his abdomen to his crotch. He grimaced as he pulled his heavy erection free of his underwear and pants.

“No,” he said when she immediately reached for him, her small hand tempting him, making his voice harsher than he intended. “I’m going to restrain you.”

He hadn’t unpacked, preferring for some reason to live out of his suitcase while he was at Aurore than to put his clothing in the closet and drawers, like a regular resident would. He found the tie he’d worn to the press conference and went behind Francesca. His cock jerked in the air when she immediately put her wrists behind her back. He knelt behind her, letting the tie fall to his knee, and moved her rose-gold hair aside to kiss her fragrant neck.

“You’re so sweet,” he murmured thickly as he began to unbutton her blouse, referring to her readiness to be bound, her insistence upon being there with him . . . everything. “I used to think I was taking advantage of you because you always gave yourself so freely, but you truly want to, don’t you?” he asked, his lips moving on her tender skin. He opened the placket of her shirt, his hands immediately seeking out her warm, satiny-smooth skin. He groaned at the sensation.

“Yes,” she whispered harshly. His fingers slipped over the front of her bra, and he grunted in satisfaction when he felt the front clasp. He opened the garment, spreading the cups back over her breasts.