Blackwood's Woman (19 page)

Joanna edged backward, easing her knees up in front of her and hugging her arms around her legs. "You're a beautiful man, J.T. The most beautiful man I've ever seen."

He grinned. She smiled. And the bottom dropped out of his stomach. "And I'm all yours," he told her. "Putty in your hands. Yours to command."

"I guess I'm just a bit overwhelmed with all this power." She surveyed him from the top of his head to the tips of his bare feet, taking inventory of every inch of his big, hard body. He lay there watching her watch him. His arms bulged with muscles.

She reached out and ran her fingertips over one arm from elbow to armpit, then slid her nails down his side and over across his broad, sleek chest. When she touched one tight little nipple, he made a sound, and Joanna knew he was trying to stifle a groan.

She wondered if his body ached the way hers did; if he throbbed with desire, wanting her the way she wanted him.

She couldn't mistake the evidence inside his jeans—the truth about the way he felt.

His body revealed his need for her. "Would you take off your jeans?" she asked.

"Why don't you help me take them off?" He took her hand, brought it over to the snap on his jeans and placed it directly over his zipper.

Her hand trembled. She'd never touched a man this way. Shaking like a leaf, she unsnapped his jeans and undid the zipper, then jerked her hand away.

He lifted himself up off the bed, tugged his jeans down his legs and tossed them on the floor. Joanna watched his every move, becoming more and more fascinated by the sheer masculine glory of J.T.'s body.

"I suppose I should take something off, shouldn't I?"

"Only if you want to, honey." J.T. wasn't sure he had the strength to resist his need to take this woman. But, God in heaven, he had to resist. He had to be strong for Joanna. He had to give her all the power, otherwise, she'd be lost to him forever.

Joanna removed her thin silk robe. She sucked in several deep breaths, then dropped the robe on the floor and edged her way closer to J.T. Sliding close to his side, she eased one leg up over his and rested her elbow on the bed as she leaned over and kissed his chest. She explored his body, touching, kissing, licking him from forehead to feet.

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Blackwood's Woman

J.T. could imagine no torture more unbearable. He called upon every divine force in the universe to help him.

Suddenly his prayers were answered when Joanna said, "Touch me, J.T. Please, touch me."

Touch her? Where? How? What he wanted to do to her would be too much too soon. Slow and easy, Blackwood, he told himself. Don't do anything to frighten her, to take away her sense of complete control.

He lifted her up and on top of him, showing her how to straddle him the way she did a horse. He sat her down directly on top of his arousal, allowing her to feel his throbbing hardness through the thin cotton of his briefs.

"Oh," she gasped. Her body clenched and unclenched with pulsating need. She braced herself by placing her hands on his shoulders.

J.T. bucked up against her once. She gasped again. Still clinging to his shoulders, she clenched his hips with her knees.

"Do you like that?" he asked, and circled her waist with both hands, urging her to lean forward.

"I'm tingling all over," she said. "Tingling and aching and—"

Her breath caught in her throat when she felt his hands spreading out from her waist, slowly covering her buttocks. He caressed her through the silk gown, the feel of his big hands gentle yet sensual.

"I'd like to kiss you," he said. "Would that be all right?"

"Yes. Please."

Every muscle in his body strained, every nerve roared like a wounded beast. Take her! Take her now! his body ordered him. Be patient. Wait. Make sure she's ready, his mind told him. While his body and mind fought, his heart won the battle. He brought her downward, inch by inch, until she lay atop the full length of his body.

She lowered her head and touched her lips to his.

She played with his lips, licking, nibbling, and then finally enticing him to open his mouth and allow her tongue entrance. Once she had initiated the dance, he fell into step, thrusting and tasting, becoming a full participant in the wild fandango their kiss became.

J.T. eased her gown up her hips, one tiny piece of material at a time. When he slipped his hands beneath the silk and stroked her bare buttocks, Joanna moaned into his mouth and shivered violently.

He ended the kiss. They both gulped in air. She cuddled up against him like a sleek, purring kitten. He wrapped his arms around her.

"I want to kiss your breasts and your belly and taste the sweetness of your body,"

he said. "Will you let me do that?"

With her head still resting on his chest, she nodded, then whispered her agreement. Gently shoving her upward until she straddled him again, he gripped the hem of her gown, which rested about her hips.

"May I take this off?" he asked.

"My gown? Yes. It's all right. Take it off."

He pulled her gown up over her head, tossed it on the floor on top of his jeans and then rolled her over onto her back. While he anointed her face with dozens of sweet kisses, he ran his hands over her breasts, cupping them, lifting them, caressing their roundness.

Her nipples beaded into hard buds. Her breasts felt heavy and achy. "J.T.?"

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10/31/2009 r nipples beaded into hard buds. Her breasts Blackwood's Woman felt heavy and achy. "J.T.?"

"It's all right, honey. I know what you want." While he suckled one breast, he stroked the other between his thumb and forefinger.

Joanna's lower body lifted off the bed, the movement completely instinctive. "Oh, J.T., please, do something. I'm aching so."

He rose over her and looked down at her face, her beautiful face, flushed and damp with passion. His gaze traveled over her breasts, round and full, the nipples tight with desire.

Lowering his head, he kissed her belly. She moaned. He painted a moist trail downward until his lips encountered the fiery red triangle between her legs. "Let me touch you … here." He nuzzled her with his nose.

"Yes. Please."

J.T. cupped her softly, petting her, then slipped his fingers inside the hot, wet folds of her body. She quivered uncontrollably for a few seconds, then closed her thighs, capturing his hand.

"Easy, Jo. Easy, sweet darling."

She relaxed her legs and allowed him to part them slowly. After he'd settled himself between her legs, his lips sought and found the secret heart of her. When he kissed her there, she cried out. When his tongue worked tirelessly against her, she clutched his shoulders and wept as her body tightened and released, tightened and released, until she was wound so tight, she was wild with need. With one final stroke, he sent her over the edge, then lifted himself upward to take her cries of completion into his mouth.

She shuddered as spasms of earth-shattering ecstasy claimed her body. Taking her in his arms, J.T. rolled them over, positioning her on top of him. He had to take her—

take her now—or he'd die on the spot.

"I want you, Jo. I want you so much."

"Yes.
Please. Now," she cried, as the remnants of her release echoed through her body.

J.T. lifted Joanna and brought her down onto him, thrusting inside her. She gasped several times, then whimpered softly.

"Are you all right?" he asked, praying he hadn't hurt her.

"Yes. Oh, yes."

Nothing he'd ever experienced had prepared him for the feel of being inside Joanna, of becoming her lover. She was hot and wet and tight. So very tight. Her body sheathed him like a glove. A perfect fit.

"Take charge, honey," he said. "Do whatever you want to do to me."

"I want to make love to you, J.T., but I'm not sure I know how. I've never… I mean, there wasn't anyone before—"

"You and your fiancé never made love?" Was it possible? he wondered. Had she been a virgin when Lenny Plott raped her?

"No. Todd and I didn't make love. I wanted to wait."

"Then I'm the first," J.T. said.

"You would be, if … if I hadn't been—"

"I'm your first," he told her, moving out and then back in, claiming her as his own.

"No other man has ever been your lover."

She wept, tears of joy and of sorrow. Tears that washed away any residue of shame she'd felt. Tears that proclaimed her gratitude. He might not realize the truth himself, but Joanna knew, in her heart of hearts, that J.T. was the other half of her, F:/…/Beverly Barton - Blackwood's Wo…

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10/31/2009 elf, but Joanna knew, in her heart of hearts, Blackwood's Woman that J.T. was the other half of her, her life's partner, her soul mate.

"Making love is so easy," he said, "when you want each other the way we do."

"I do want you, J.T. I want you so desperately."

"Then take me, honey. Ride me … hard and fast. Give us both what we want …

what we need."

Pure, primitive feminine instinct took over, guiding her into a mating ritual as old as time. She moved, slowly, tentatively, uncertain of herself and of him at first. But as the momentum inside her body gradually built, she gave herself over to the passion, to the basic animal urges she didn't want to control. J.T. stroked and petted her hips and buttocks. He suckled at her breasts, moving from one to the other, paying equal homage. And he whispered sweet, dark, erotic words of praise, and in the moment of fulfillment, he cried out to her,
"Ayóí óosh'ni,"
the words strange to his own ears, the language the Navajo tongue of his childhood.

She whispered his name over and over, telling him that she loved him, as release claimed her only seconds after he fell headlong into completion.

He held her in his arms, atop his sweat-dampened body. She cuddled to him, not wanting to move, wishing they could stay this way forever. Happy, fulfilled, complete, and safe from the outside world.

He spread a line of kisses along her cheek and jaw, then reached down, pulled up the sheet and covered them.

"Shouldn't I move?" she asked. "I can't stay on top of you all night. I'm too heavy."

"I don't want you to move," he said, stroking her hip. "Go to sleep right where you are, honey."

Sighing, she relaxed on top of him, then kissed his chest. "What did you say to me when … just as you … you know … those strange words? Were they Navajo?"

"I don't speak
Saad."
He kissed the top of her head resting on his chest. "Or at least I haven't since I was a little boy. I don't have any idea what I said. It must have been something I remembered from my childhood."

"Something very wonderful?" she asked.

"If I said it to you, then it had to be something wonderful."

"Thank you, J.T. Thank you for making this so good for me—so special."

"Don't thank me, Jo. I should be thanking you. Do you know how honored I feel knowing I'm your first lover?"

"But that's why… Don't you understand?" She cuddled into him as if she were trying to bore her way inside him, seeking shelter and safety in the harbor of his big, strong body. "Todd wanted to be the first. He wanted a virgin bride."

"I told you, honey, the man was a bastard. And a stupid one, at that." J.T.

wrapped her tightly in his arms, cocooning her in his warmth and strength, protecting her in the safe haven of his embrace. "What Lenny Plott did to you had nothing to do with making love. In every way that matters, you were still a virgin until tonight."

"Do you really believe that?" She could not stop the tears, could not keep herself from clinging to J.T., could not keep her heart from bursting with the joy of loving such a special man.

J.T. took her chin in his hand, lifted her face and kissed the tip of her nose. "The way I see it, you gave your virginity to me tonight. I'm your only lover. There's never been another man. Only me."

"Yes. Only you." Only you, J.T. For now and always. My only lover. My only love.

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10/31/2009 s. Only you." Only you, J.T. For now and alw Blackwood's Woman ays. My only lover. My only love.

* * *

Joanna awoke shortly after dawn in J.T.'s arms and found him watching her. They made love again, lingering over every touch, drawing out every sighed expression. He was as tender, as gentle and as passionate the second time as he'd been the first, and their fulfillment had been even more complete. Joanna had never dreamed loving someone could be so good. Now, she truly understood how Annabelle had felt about Benjamin.

When she roused from sleep the second time, she was alone in bed. She called out to J.T. He answered her from the kitchen, telling her to stay put. She waited patiently for his return. Within minutes he entered the bedroom. Joanna's heart filled with warmth at the sight of him standing there wearing nothing but his briefs and carrying a tray of food. He set the tray at the foot of the bed, then eased himself down beside her.

"Breakfast is served." He dragged the tray up the bed and lifted it on top of their laps. "I whip up a mean batch of scrambled eggs, if I do say so myself."

Joanna inspected the tray, taking note of the white rose lying on her napkin. "You picked one of Elena's prized roses! She'll kill you."

"How's she going to know one's missing?" J.T. shrugged, then picked up a glass of orange juice and handed it to Joanna.

She took a sip. Her eyes widened. "This is fresh-squeezed. I don't believe it. You're a man of many talents."

"Oh, honey, you've just seen a few of my many talents." He slipped his hand under her gown and up the inside of her leg.

"Behave yourself." Joanna swatted at his hand. "We can't play around all day.

Mother will be up soon and if I don't confront her up at the main house, she'll be down here trying to move in with me."

J.T. removed his hand from beneath her gown. "I've been trying to forget that your mother is still here." Lifting his mug to his lips, he took a hearty swallow of sweet, black coffee. "Jo?"