CultOfTheBlackVirgin (24 page)

Looking up into her face, he reached out, put both hands gently around her waist, and drew her close to him. She sighed, luxuriating in his strength, his warmth.

Yes
—this touch was what she had been longing for. He leaned forward to bury his face between her breasts, taking a deep breath, holding her motionless for a few moments. She stood perfectly still, savoring this first sensual contact.

“I didn’t think you would come.” His words were muffled by her flesh.

“Of course I would. I can’t help myself.” She lowered her head and whispered into his hair. “You’re all I can think about.” It felt good to confess this truth.

He must have been anxious, because she felt his body relax as he wrapped both arms around her and hugged her tightly. Then he loosened his grip and began to kiss her breasts. She shuddered with pleasure and joy. She lowered her face into his hair and breathed in deeply—she thought of the word
voluptuous
. Her hands found themselves entwined in his hair.

Surely this is heaven on earth. Or as close as I can ever hope to get. Perfect, perfect bliss.

Looking down past the mass of shiny dark hair in her hands, she was completely entranced. His mouth at her nipples not only felt delicious, it made one of the most beautiful sights she had ever seen. Artists had made thousands of paintings and sculptures depicting children at their mother’s breast. But she couldn’t recall a single traditional image in fine art of a man making love to a woman’s breasts
.

Why?

Surely she couldn’t be the only person who found so much beauty there? Was a man suckling a woman’s breast seen as unnatural? Shameful? Pornographic? How could such a joyous act not be celebrated in art? But this was not the time for thinking, and she made a mental note to research the subject later.

While she luxuriated in the moment, he raised his face to her and pulled her mouth down to his. She thought she had never wanted anything more in her life as much as his lips on hers. The soft, warm kiss was deeply sensual, moving. Not like Tuesday’s kisses at all. He was very tender with her. She was disarmed by a sudden wave of feelings for her lover of only two days. She returned his kiss with one that expressed not only her intense desire but also a quality of emotion that shook her.

Now her body wanted to get closer to him. She saw the chance to do what she had been longing to do from the moment she saw him sitting in a chair that first night at the dinner table—climb onto his hard lap, wrap herself around him, push her tongue deep into his mouth. But before she could move onto him, he released her, reached behind him and turned out the lamp.

A large, bright moon filled a corner of the sky, and a pure, white light poured through the open windows. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust, but then she saw his eyes on her, glistening like an animal’s. He stood up, and never moving his eyes from hers, took her hand in his and led her to the bed.

He sat down beside her so they were facing each other, Jo naked and trembling, he with his hands on her shoulders.

He slid a hand up her back, and she winced when he reached broken skin that hadn’t yet healed.

“What’s wrong. Are you hurt?”

“A little. My back. It’s still sensitive from being ground into a plaster wall.” She stifled a giggle.

“I’m so sorry I hurt you. I promise to be gentle with you tonight.” He sounded earnest but she saw he was smiling.

“Yes, I need that from you, this time.”

Tenderly he lifted her chin toward his and bent down for another kiss. She shivered all over.

“You’re shaking, Joanna,” he whispered as he pulled back from her, taking her two hands in his. Turning her palms upwards towards his face, he first gently kissed one, then the other.

For a moment she remained mute, touched by the sweetness of this simple act.

“It’s what you do to me.” She smiled a little sadly. The overwhelming sexual tension she’d been carrying over the past few days was changing into a calmer, somehow more profound anticipation of where he would take her now. A few moments ago she was ready to climb onto his lap and choke him with her tongue, rake his back with her nails, bite him until blood flowed…

But now…now she felt differently. She looked up at him, seeing parts of his face alternately lighted and shadowed by the moonlight, and felt a softness spreading throughout her breast. She sat still, waiting to see what her lover, and her trickster of a body, would do next.

He smiled at her and moved his head close to her ear. “We must be very quiet tonight,” he whispered as he ran the fingers of one hand along her cheek. “And I want to move slowly—I want us to take the time to be together properly.” He picked up one of her hands and kissed the palm once more.

“Yes.”

“All right then. Will you stay a couple of hours, at least?”

“Yes.”

Then he kissed her lips gently, brushing the long, loose hair from her face.

“And will you try very hard to keep quiet?”

She nodded obediently.

“And promise to let me take this slowly, so that we can get the most from our brief time?”

She nodded again, looking up at the earnest expression in his eyes. What she didn’t say was that she would have promised him anything. And she was a person who always kept her promises.

She would do anything for him.

“Yes, I will. I promise,” she whispered.

His warm hands moved lightly over the tender flesh on her back. She was still shaking, but not as violently. He kissed her again. Slowly. His tongue licked her lips, moving in to sensually caress her own tongue and the insides of her mouth.

He was delicious, hot, succulent, and intoxicatingly sweet. Sweeter and more succulent than those pointed little strawberries she had eaten a few days ago. More intoxicating than any wine she’d ever drunk. She wanted to sip him, suck the saliva out of his mouth. Again, she wanted to eat him alive, take him into herself.

Her mouth moved to the fragrant skin of his neck, his shoulders, his chest, the Yin and Yang symbol. Once again she tried to climb onto his lap but he gently took her head in both of his hands to stop her.

“Not too quickly,” he reminded her. “Here. Help me out of these.”

He released her and stood up, his erection straining against his clothes. With a will of their own her hands moved to his belt to undo the buckle. Again, this unbuckling was an exquisitely sensual act to her. She slowed her movements to get the full experience of the tightening then loosening off of the soft leather as the clasp was unfastened. Even more slowly she drew the tongue end out through the buckle before going for the button of his waistband and pulling down on the zipper to free him. He stepped out and kicked his pants away. With intense pleasure, she ran her hands over his undershorts. They hugged him beautifully, gracefully, and the moonlight made suggestive shadows of his curves and bulges. Still seated, she rubbed her face over one hipbone as she peeled off the garment, her breath catching in her throat as she freed his swollen cock. Standing in front of her, his feet already bare, he was now as naked as she was.

“Here. Put this on me.” He handed her a wrapped condom. She opened it, and unrolled the slippery tube along the length of him.

What the moonlight did to his body caused her stomach to make a little flip. Without any doubt he really was the finest thing she’d ever seen. One of her hands traced lightly over the Yin and Yang tattoo, moved over the muscles in his chest, and then over his hard stomach. She couldn’t remember ever feeling such intense joy. Had she ever in her life been so aroused, she wondered? So happy?

She panted now, like an animal, ready for him to take her, take her anywhere, to do anything he wanted to her. Hurt her again in their lovemaking. He could use her completely for his own needs, and it would only cause her the deepest and most profound pleasure.

This new experience—this desire to turn over her body and give up her will to another person—excited her more than she thought possible. It was overwhelmingly erotic. Almost frightening in its intensity. But instead of being frightened, she felt empowered, somehow. Feminine and powerful.

Joanna Clifford knew that this moment was the high point of her life to date.

Ecstatic at the thought, she knew she would die for him right now.

But he asked for no such sacrifice. Instead, he wanted her to merely climb onto his lap, facing him, as he sat on the edge of the bed. He must have read her mind.

“Come here. Sit on me, like this.”

With his help she straddled him, carefully, her sore muscles protesting. She wrapped her legs around his waist, his arms encircled her tightly. Like two days before, she was trapped by her lover. She was still trembling all over, but otherwise couldn’t move. It was exhilarating—and a little frightening. She didn’t know if she could take such a large penis again without some pain.

Softly, in his ear she made her little request of him. “Don’t forget to go easy. Please. I’m still sore.”

“Of course, I’ll be gentle, but listen to me. You can help yourself. I want you to relax. Relax completely. Can you do that?”

Doubtful.

But she nodded into his chest.

“Relax
all
of your body. Begin by taking some long, deep breaths.”

She did as he said.

“Good. But deeper. We’ll do it together.”

He coached her, coaxed her.

“That’s right—but slow down—fill your lungs all the way. Now let it all out. Slowly. Good. Now again.” He rubbed her lower back rhythmically as she followed his orders.

She concentrated on matching her breathing to his, inhaling his scent as fully as she could, then gradually expelling the air completely. Immediately she could feel some of the tension leaving her body. The shaking had stopped.

It was working—her arms and legs went limp, and she sank fully into him as she felt herself grow heavy.

“Very good, Joanna. Now isn’t this better?” He slid his hands under her buttocks, lifted her up and slipped smoothly into her.

He took her by surprise, entering so quickly, and she gave a little gasp.

“Keep breathing,” he said as he held her still for a few seconds.

And then, slowly and rhythmically, he began a sensual rocking dance like nothing she had experienced before. His kisses were deep and sweet. He kissed her with such ardor that she felt she was being both devoured and worshipped. She met each kiss with one of equal tenderness and passion. And, she realized with ever-deepening joy, this was much more than the frenzy of two days ago.

They were making love to each other.

His hands were everywhere on her flesh, kneading and stroking her soft skin, circling and teasing her breasts, between her legs, nudging her wet clitoris enough to almost drive her too far forwards. They licked each other’s face, neck, kissed hair, hands, shoulders, as he very carefully moved both of their seated bodies backwards and forwards, away from and towards, a slowly rolling and overwhelming ecstasy.

She didn’t cry out this time—there was no screaming and gnashing of teeth. She kept her promise. There was only a long series of shudders and gasps for more air. She thought maybe her heart would stop, at one point. Her heart, like her body, was being brought to a state where she relinquished control. She was Luc’s now.

He carried her along with him to some otherworldly place where all that she was, her very consciousness, was caught up in a rolling series of wave after wave of something absolutely primordial in its power, something that originated deep inside her. She felt she was no longer a human being, made of muscle and bone, but a sea creature, all soft jelly and fluid, pivoting around a hard stalk of such intense pleasure that she would dissolve around it and float away. She would disseminate, and be gone.

How long was Luc able to carry them through this fluidity of space and time? She didn’t know. And eventually she came back into herself, wet and trembling, insides still rhythmically contracting, with him lying beside her, stroking her hair and telling her to get under the blankets for a few moments.

They lay together, bodies entwined. Never had she felt such a powerful emotional and sexual connection to a man. Never could she have imagined that mind and body could work together so beautifully, to each intensify the pleasure of the other, so that it wasn’t just sex anymore. It was more than sex. Last time was fucking, amazing as it was—this was something else. She felt awe.

I’d call it love, if I didn’t know better.

She thought of the Chinese concept of Yin and Yang, admired the symmetry of and principle behind the black and white symbol, each side containing the germ of the other side’s qualities, halfway wrapped around each other, seeming to be in perpetual motion, a turning and rolling together that was never ending. She felt a new respect for the ancient concepts of male and female, dark and light, in their similarities and differences, in their quest for union and harmony.

Yes. That’s it—the harmony of a perfect fit. Luc and I are a perfect fit.

Eyes closed, she inhaled her lover, treasuring the feeling of her skin stuck to his, as if he possessed the strength of the magnet, and she was the powerless, passive metal.