Secrets 01- Blackhawk’s Sweet Revenge
Page 9
Excitement mingled with a trace of fear when he lowered her to the bed. He stepped back, unbuttoning his shirt as he stared down at her with a look so potent, so incredibly hungry that she could barely catch her breath. How primitive he looked, she thought. The moonlight outlined his powerful body, shadows danced over the bulge of muscles as he pulled his
shirt off and let it fall to the floor. His gaze never left hers as he reached for the buckle of his belt.
Surely he could hear the fierce pounding of her heart. It seemed to echo in the quiet room, as did the hiss of metal as he unzipped his jeans. Breath held, she watched as he tugged off boots and socks, then slid down jeans and briefs in one smooth movement. She'd thought she'd be embarrassed, that her lack of experience and knowledge with men would bring about some sort of anxiety attack when they finally made love. But she wasn't nervous, she wasn't afraid. She simply wanted. Wanted and longed for him, for this, more than she'd ever thought possible. And the sight of him naked beside her, the proof of his desire for her, only increased her own arousal.
The mattress dipped from the weight of his body as he sat beside her on the bed. She reached out to him, slid her hand up his chest. His skin was hot under her fingers, his muscles hard. He jumped at her touch, as if surprised, then leaned into her, turning his body to allow her more freedom.
Lovemaking had never been more than a curiosity before this, before Lucas, but now it was so much more. More than a want, more than a desire, it was as essential and as natural to her as the beating of her heart. Which, at the moment, was wildly erratic. She moved her fingers over him, explored the solid planes of his chest. She heard his breathing deepen, felt the heavy, rapid beating of his heart. He watched her, and even in the pale moonlight she could see the dark intensity in his eyes.
Rising to her knees, she knelt beside him on the bed, moved both her hands up his chest and over his shoulders. His muscles were like forged steel under her fingers, and the tension radiating from his body permeated the entire room. She paused at the rough texture of a long, jagged scar on his upper chest, frowned, then bent to press her lips to it.
Her lips moved along his collarbone, then his throat. He sucked in a sharp breath at her touch, then took the advantage and slid his hands under the hem of her nightgown, up bare thighs to cup her rear. His hands caressed her, then skimmed the soft, sensitive flesh of her inner thigh with his rough palms. She shivered at his touch, let her head fall back with a sigh as she arched forward, her hands braced on his shoulders for support. He dipped his head forward, buried his face between the softness of her breasts, then through the delicate cotton fabric pulled one hardened tip into his mouth. She cried out at the arrow of exquisite pleasure that shot straight through her to the very spot where Lucas's fingertips lightly brushed over the thin silk of her panties. She moved against him, wanting, needing more. Her fingers raked through his hair, then dug into his scalp.
"Lucas," she gasped as he moved to her other breast. "Please..."
Julianna's soft plea nearly made Lucas forget his vow to make their first time slow. He struggled between driving himself into her the way he wanted, hard and fast and deep, and the need to keep the maddening pace that he'd set. Sweat beaded on his forehead from the sheer effort of holding back, but he leashed the fierce need, forced himself to concentrate on pleasing her instead.
With a will of iron, he slid his hands from between her legs and from under her nightgown, then tugged the robe she still wore from her shoulders, bunching the sleeves at her elbows and trapping her arms. She squirmed against him, uttered a moan of protest, but he held the fabric firmly in his hands and lowered her to the bed. He eased himself down beside her, half sitting, half lying, and moved lower, pressed his lips behind her knee then her inner thigh. She whimpered, twisted under him.
"Shh," he calmed her, then edged the hem of her gown aside with his teeth, lifted it higher as he moved up the soft, delicate flesh. Without his hands, it was a slow journey, torturous, and more intensely arousing than anything he'd ever experienced. A sheen of sweat covered his body now, but he would not give in, not yet.
She quivered as his mouth blazed kisses up her inner thigh. She struggled to free her arms, but he held tightly to the fabric around her arms that held her captive. He caught her tender flesh lightly between his teeth, and she cried out his name. When he moved over the soft mound encased in silk, she writhed under him, moved her head restlessly against the pillow, murmuring words of intense pleasure and increasing distress.
He nuzzled and kissed her, used his teeth and mouth to make her as crazy as he made himself, then moved upward to the soft valley of her stomach, rubbed his cheek over the flat, smooth skin and tasted her. She alternately cursed him and moaned, and when he reached the underside of her breasts she arched her body, allowing him to easily nudge her nightgown upward still farther and expose the soft womanly mounds to him. His mouth moved over her: his tongue moistened and tasted the sweetness, swirled over each hardened tip, then closed over her and gently suckled, gradually increasing the pressure until she bucked under him and cried out his name.
Knowing that neither of them could stand much more, Lucas released her. She reared upward, wrapped her arms around his neck and brought her mouth to his, kissing him with all her pent-up frustration. He closed his arms around her, held her tightly to him, kissing her back with the same wild desperation, until he knew that he couldn't wait any longer. He had to have her now, needed to be deep inside her, to feel her tighten around him and ease the ache inside that was close to bursting.
He jerked away gasping as he tugged her robe off, then yanked her nightgown up in one savage move. They fell back on the bed together, and he straddled her, looked down at her, momentarily dazed at the play of the moonlight over the erotic rise and fall of her body. As often as he'd imagined this, fantasized about her, he'd never even been close to the reality. He wanted this woman as he'd never wanted another woman before, and the depth of that emotion, something that went beyond the physical, stunned him, and he hesitated, staring down at her as if truly seeing her for the first time.
Her eyelids were heavy, her eyes dark with desire. She lifted her arms, reached for him. The realization that she wanted him jerked him back into the moment and snapped the last thread of his control. He moved over her, slid her silk underwear down and away. With a low growl he spread her legs, then buried himself swiftly and deeply inside her.
When she cried out, with distress not pleasure, he froze.
"No." She wrapped her arms around his neck and held him to her. "Don't stop. Please don't stop."
Stunned, confused, he looked down at her.
"Julianna...I didn't, you didn't..." He tried to shake his head clear, but she was wrapped around him so tightly, and the mixture of arousal and shock made it nearly impossible to speak. "My God, why didn't you tell me?"
"I tried," she said, her voice breathless. "That first night at the hotel, after you came back to the suite with Nick."
"Wait...wait." He swore through gritted teeth when she moved upward. "Julianna," he gasped, "this isn't exactly something I'd forget."
She moved again, and he groaned deeply. "You fell asleep," she murmured.
He searched his feeble brain for anything that might jog his memory, but at the moment his brain had settled into a lower part of his anatomy.
"I'm sorry." He tried to shift his weight off her. She only held on tighter and slid her legs around his.
"You're not going anywhere," she said fiercely. "I didn't wait twenty-nine years for this to stop now." She pulled his mouth down to hers, brushed his lips with hers. "And besides, remember what you said, that if anyone interrupted us, they would die? That includes you, too, mister."
She rocked her hips against his, drove him over the edge with a movement as instinctive and as old as time. Powerless to stop, he moved with her, slowed her when she tried to hurry, not only out of concern for her, but to prolong the intense pleasure coiling tightly inside h
But more than he needed air, he needed Julianna, needed to fill her as much as he needed her to fill him. The sound of his name on her lips, the stroke of her hands down his back, the tight, hot fit of their bodies all drove him insane. It had to be insanity, he thought. What else could turn a man inside out like this, make him blind to everything but one woman?
With a moan that bordered on despair, he drove himself deeper into the satiny sheath of her body, his excitement only increased by the knowledge that he was the first, that she belonged to him and only him. She took him into her, clung to him, turned pleasure to pain, then back to pleasure again, each time more intense than the time before, until thought became impossible and he could only feel.
She thought that it might be possible to die from sensations this exquisite. It was impossible to be still; she desperately wanted to touch him everywhere at once, desperately wanted him to touch her everywhere at the same time. Heat fused their bodies, pumped into her blood and burst into flames. Frantic, though not quite certain for what, she answered every thrust of his body with her own, wanting more with a need that completely consumed her.
Digging her fingernails into his shoulders, she felt the unbearable tension increase until there was nothing but a wild, blinding fever that drove her beyond anything she could have ever imagined. The first shudder whipped through her, and she gasped at the shock of it. Her eyes flew open.
"Lucas!"
"It's all right, baby," he said raggedly. "Just go with it, just go with me."
The shudders increased, each one stronger than before. She cried out, clawed at his shoulders, arched upward at the explosion of senses inside her. He groaned, a harsh, rough sound of need that matched her own. She took him still deeper inside her, felt him grow harder, larger, until the force of his climax slammed from his body into hers.
It was impossible to speak. To move or even think. She simply floated, let each colorful texture shimmer through her. She felt his lips against her neck, leaned into the touch and smiled.
When he finally rolled to his side some time later, he took her with him. He needed her close, needed to feel the intimate connection of their bodies. They were damp with sweat, their skin still hot and slick. He pressed his lips to her shoulder, swirled his tongue over her softness, tasted the salt mingled with her sweetness. With a sigh she melted into him, one hand on his chest, the other draped loosely on his neck.
He had no idea what to say, words just simply weren't enough. So he just held her, skimmed his hand down her back and over the soft curve of her hip. A virgin. Julianna Hadley. To say that appearances were never quite what they seemed was the understatement of the century.
"Did I hurt you?" Afraid that he had, he instinctively pulled her closer.
She shook her head, traced the outline of his rib cage with her fingertips. "It was wonderful, Lucas. You were wonderful," she added, almost shyly. "Thank you."
Chuckling, he kissed the top of her head. He couldn't remember any woman ever thanking him after they'd made love. But then, he'd never made love to Julianna before. And now that he had, he had every intention of making love to her again. Soon. And often. "You were pretty wonderful yourself, darlin'. Good thing this is a solid bed. We might have broken it."
She laughed softly, pressed her lips to his neck, then touched her tongue to the base of his throat. "I didn't know it was like that," she whispered.
She gave a squeak as he rolled suddenly to his back and brought her on top of him, with their bodies still joined. "Didn't know it was like what?" he asked roughly.
She crossed her arms in front of herself to cover her nakedness, but he took hold of her wrists and pulled them to her sides. Embarrassed, she glanced away.
"Tell me what it was like, Julianna," he said huskily. He gazed up at her bare body straddling him and felt the heat pound in his veins, amazed at how soon he wanted her again. How fiercely.
She opened her eyes and looked down at him. He could see the desire in her gaze, knew that she was feeling it, too. That she wanted him. Her lips parted softly, and then she began to rock her hips over his. "It was exciting," she whispered. "The feel of you inside me, so incredibly bard."
He was hard again. Ready for her, as she was for him. No woman had ever made him feel so completely powerful yet weak at the same time. She moved over him, a slow, sensuous rhythm that made his heart hammer wildly in his chest.
"You're a wicked woman, Julianna," he managed through gritted teeth.
"Am I?" She seemed pleased by his words. "Would you like to know more?"
"I'm not sure my heart can take it," he said hoarsely, then sucked in a sharp breath when she tightened around him.
Smiling, she pulled his hands to her breasts. "When you touch me here." She closed her eyes again, pressed her hardened nipples against the palms of his hands. "I love that."
Nothing had ever made him so hot before. Her hands covered his while he caressed her softness; her hips slid up and down with agonizing precision until the ache reached a fever pitch once again.
A sound more animal than human rose from deep in his throat and he sat, dragging her against him as he rolled her onto her back again and pushed her down into the mattress. He sought her mouth, kissed her hard while he ground his hips into hers, seeking the release that refused to be restrained any longer.
There was no taking it slowly this time. It was fast and furious and wild. She met him thrust for thrust, rose up, wrapped her arms and legs tightly around him. They moved as one, their destination the same, their determination equal. The fire they'd started rose and spiraled, burst into flames that ravaged and consumed them both.
He caught her scream with his lips, then shuddered violently from the force of his own release.
When he could think again, could move, he cradled her gently in his arms. Her hair lay tousled over her face, and he brushed the strands away from her cheek with his knuckle, marveling at the softness of her skin. She was soft like that all over, and the wonder of it, the wonder of what had just happened, absolutely staggered him.
"Lucas?"
"Hmmm?"
"Is it...I mean, has it always been like that?" She hesitated. "For you, I mean?"
He smiled, pulled her closer against him. "Are you asking me about the women in my life?"
Lifting her head, she looked down at him, her gaze intent. "Sort of. But not in a jealous sort of way, more...research than anything else."
He frowned at her. "Research?"
How strange, Julianna thought, that she should feel so awkward after what they'd just shared. But she had to know, and if he thought she was silly, she didn't care.
With a nervous gesture, she moved her fingertips back and forth over one spot on his chest, carefully focusing her attention there. "The few men my father didn't scare away didn't interest me that way, and I never had girlfriends to talk to about things like that. I always thought maybe there was something wrong with me."
"So you want to know if you're like other women?" he asked carefully. "Or is this a comparison test?"
"I'm sorry," she said, too embarrassed to look at him. "It's none of my business, and it doesn't really matter, anyway. Just forget I asked."
She started to pull away, but he held her arms and captured her against his body. "Julianna," he said firmly. "Look at me."
When she shook her head, he took her chin in his hand and forced her to meet his eyes. "I have no idea what rumors you've heard about me, or to what degree there's truth in any of them. I suspect they range from as far from the fact as possible, to somewhat close. Maybe even one or two are true. But I've been extremely selective with the women I've slept with, and the numbers aren't nearly as high as you seem to think."
"I never-"
"Let me finish." He loosened his hold on her chin, then lightly touched her jaw with his knuckle. "There has never been another woman who made me feel like you did tonight. And as far as there being something wrong with you—" there was amusement in his eyes now "—let's just say you came damn close tonight to making yourself a widow."
Confused, she frowned at him, then smiled as she understood his meaning. "That good?"
He moved so fast she could barely gasp before he had her on her back again. He locked her fingers with his and raised her hands over her head, locking her arms in place. "It's not polite to look so smug, darlin'. I think I'm going to have to teach you some manners."
He had to be right, she thought as the heat rippled through her body again. A person could die from feeling like this. She smiled up at him, knowing that she'd be purring if she were a cat. "Yes," she murmured, lifting her lips to his. "Please teach me."
Chapter Nine
Sleeves rolled up, hair tucked into a baseball cap and scraper in hand, Julianna attacked the peeling wallpaper in the guest bedroom with the enthusiasm of a puppy in a bed of flowers. A tower of sample books leaned precariously in the center of the hardwood floor, surrounded by several more open and tagged as possibilities for the room. She'd spent days poring over paint chips, wallpaper books and tile samples, but there were too many choices, and her head swam with the possibilities.
But that wasn't the only thing making her head swim these days, she thought with a smile. Lucas was responsible for her lack of concentration and absent-mindedness. How could she stay focused on work, decide which fixture or color paint, when he constantly crept into her thoughts?
She'd given in to erotic daydreaming about her
husband since that first night they'd made love three weeks ago. It didn't help her get a lot of work done, but she found it a pleasurable way to gather wool.
She still couldn't believe she was actually married to Lucas Blackhawk—living in the same house, sleeping in the same bed and making love with him. Every night. Smiling, she turned her baseball cap around and scraped a section of faded blue and green flowers. His appetite for her never ceased to amaze—and please— her. Not to mention her own sudden lack of inhibition, she thought as a rush of heat spread through her body. There was no shame with Lucas, no embarrassment when they made love. Being with Lucas was as natural to her as breathing.
-->