Gift of the Black Virgin

by Serena Janes

  And how did Jo repay her friend’s loving generosity? By running out on her the moment Luc reappeared. Certainly, Jo regretted leaving the magazine in the lurch for much of its editorial content, among other things. But there were plenty of other talented, willing copywriters and editors standing in line to fill her shoes. Besides, she had legitimate reasons for quitting like she did.

  And—as Brenda’s threat had reminded her—not all of them were about Luc.

  Chapter Three

  On her fourth night in Luc’s house, sitting with Otis after another lonely microwaved meal—and fortified by more than half a bottle of quite tasty homemade wine—Jo decided it was time to ask for a little something for herself. Daniel was out of danger, and life had to move on. She hadn’t quit her dream job for nothing. She hadn’t broken a costly lease on a fabulous penthouse in beautiful downtown Vancouver for nothing. And she hadn’t given the tenant in her Seattle condo an eviction notice, and begun packing up everything she owned, for nothing.

  She’d done all of these things for love. But she wasn’t feeling much love from Luc’s side. Studying the delicate Art Nouveau-style engagement ring he’d bought for her in Vancouver, she wondered if marrying him would be a mistake. Concussed child or not, couldn’t he see he needed to give her at least a little of what she needed? And if his son was always going to come first…

  He got home just after ten that evening, looking a bit better than he had all week. There was color in his face, and he was actually smiling when he walked through the door.

  “Bon soir, ma biche. Ça va?” he said as he hung up his jacket and bent down to greet Otis, who was bouncing ecstatically around his feet.

  Jo had been practicing her conversational French and had asked Luc to speak French whenever they were together. She needed all the guidance she could get before she made the big move.

  “I’m fine,” she answered in English, throwing him a look from the sofa that stopped him in his tracks.

  “You’re not,” he said, walking over to her and dropping to his knees. “What’s wrong?”

  As soon as he entered the room, her misgivings evaporated. It happened every time. Somehow he possessed the unconscious ability to make her fall in love with him over and over again, just by the mere fact of his presence. All she had to do was look at him…

  Tall—about six foot two—wide of shoulder, strong of limb, Luc was as perfect a physical specimen as she’d ever seen. He was good looking, absolutely, but it was the smile he flashed her that had the power to make her bones melt and her resolve collapse.

  She felt her face flush, and she opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out.

  Julie’s right. How can I even think of myself when he’s going through this terrible time? I’m a selfish cow. She swallowed the lump in her throat.

  But she had his attention now, it seemed. She knew she had to seize the moment and tell him. About her fears, her loneliness, her hurt feelings, and her uncertainty about their future together. So she did, choosing her words carefully, so she wouldn’t sound as selfish as she felt.

  Still kneeling on the floor in front of her, without interrupting, he listened to everything she had to say—really listened, she could tell. She liked the way he held onto both of her hands and watched her face as she spoke, running a thumb back and forth over her engagement ring. Then he got up and moved beside her, took her in his arms and hugged her, hard. The smell of him was overwhelmingly comforting and erotic at the same time, and she snuggled deeper into his chest.

  She ended her confession by saying into his shirt, “I’m really struggling to see where I’m going to fit into your life here. With Anna and your son. And your dog,” she added, reaching out a hand to touch Otis, who thumped his tail enthusiastically on the floor in response.

  “While I was in Vancouver it all seemed so possible. But now that I’m here I’m not so sure I can do this.”

  Luc shifted his body underneath her and she tensed. Calmly, he said, “Look at me, Joanna.” Afraid of what he was going to say, she moved back a little so she could see his eyes.

  “How can you doubt what you mean to me? Of course you’re going to fit into my life here. I love you more than I can possibly say. I thought you knew that.” He sighed deeply, and looked briefly at the ceiling, as if imploring the gods to endow this stupid woman with the gift of reason. “I’m sorry I haven’t been with you the way I promised. But you must be able to understand.” He kissed her forehead as if he were comforting a small child.

  She held herself very still, feeling a bit like a child. A greedy, foolish one. Tears began to sting her eyes.

  He took another deep breath, then said, “Can you remember what it felt like when you first heard that your father died?”

  Blinking back her tears, she leaned her forehead against his hard chest and nodded. It had happened suddenly, while she was busy on her walking tour. And busy getting her brains screwed out—by Luc, a man she didn’t even know. The man she did know, James, who’d just proposed marriage to her, flew to France to give her the bad news and take her home for the funeral. Her father was the dearest person in the world to her, and his death was an absolute tragedy.

  “And were you able to think of anyone or anything else but yourself and your loss?”

  She couldn’t, she remembered now. She shook her head against the soft cotton of his shirt.

  “Those feelings prevented you from thinking about me, at the time. And what you’d promised me. Didn’t they? You couldn’t even leave me a note.”

  Horrible as it sounded now, what he said was true. She’d promised to extend her vacation and run off with him like the star-struck fool that she was. Run off to an uncertain destination and an even more uncertain future. It was what they both wanted, at the time. Instead, she’d allowed James to take her home.

  “But…,” she said in a tiny voice.

  He wouldn’t let her finish. “That’s how you explained yourself to me in Vancouver. You said you left without a thought of me as soon as you heard your father had died. Isn’t that true?”

  She felt heat rise to her face. “Not exactly,” she said. “There were some other circumstances.”

  Like being drugged by the man who said he loved and wanted to marry me. And tricked. Manipulated…

  “But you suffered such a shock that you couldn’t think straight. That’s what you told me. And that’s why I forgave you. You see, I understand what grief can do.”

  He pulled back so he could look into her eyes again. Through her tears she saw darkness there. “I understood, and I forgave you. Didn’t I?”

  She nodded, somberly.

  “Now you need to do the same for me, Joanna.”

  Ashamed, she buried her face in the side of his neck. “Of course I understand! But I’m so afraid! I can’t bear the feeling that I’ve come all this way—I’ve thrown over my entire life—and you’re not here for me. I feel abandoned. Lost. Maybe you’ll never be available to me again.” She burst into messy sobs, her entire body trembling.

  “I am here for you, my love. You’re not abandoned. I’m here,” he said as he kissed her hair. “What we’re going through is only temporary. Surely you know that. You won’t lose me, I promise you.”

  Staring at the delicate stones in her engagement ring, she exhaled the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding, then pulled her face up to his level and kissed his mouth with a fierce hope. She kissed his face, his thick hair, the strong hands that were stroking her own hair.

  “You promise?” she paused to ask.

  “Yes, I do. Daniel will recover and soon you can meet him. Then we’ll be a family together. Don’t worry, ma biche. Don’t worry.”

  “But what if he doesn’t want me? I don’t know how to be a step mother.” The truth of her words hit her hard as she spoke them. “When I first thought about it, a blended family, in the abstract, didn’t seem a huge obstacle. But now, everything looks different.”

  “Shh. Shh. Don’t wor
ry,” Luc said with another kiss to her face. “Of course Daniel’s always going to be a priority in my life. But so will you. And don’t think you won’t make a good step mother. It will take time—for both of you. Daniel is a very loving boy, and you are a very loving woman. I know he loves his family, and when we have children of our own he will love his brothers or sisters.” He kissed her lips softly. “And he will love you. As I do.”

  Jo drew back to stare at him, her eyes growing large. They hadn’t yet spoken about having children of their own. She’d been afraid to broach the subject during their week in Vancouver, agreeing to marry him whatever the future would hold.

  “Oh, Luc. I love you so much,” she said with a catch in her throat. “You always know the right thing to say.” She held his face in her hands, pleased at the roughness of the stubble on his cheeks, and began to kiss him again. His mouth was the best thing she had ever tasted.

  He returned her kisses with an intensity that swelled her heart, and caused her body to respond with an agenda of its own.

  Each kiss was longer, wetter, deeper than the one before. More urgent. Suddenly she understood that Daniel was, in fact, clearly out of danger. Everything was going to be all right.

  Luc was hard and ready to give her what she wanted.

  Her skin prickled with goose bumps as he pulled off her sweater and kissed her neck, her collarbone, her shoulders. Her body began to tremble in anticipation. She wanted to pull his weight on top of her, be crushed by every single one of his two hundred pounds.

  “Stand up,” he said in a voice she hadn’t heard for weeks. She obliged, turning to face him and pulling his head into her midriff. His hands caressed her back, warm on her cool skin. His tongue traced circles along her ribcage, making her shiver even more.

  “You are so beautiful,” he paused long enough to say. “And you are all mine. I’m going to marry you, and keep you mine forever.”

  A breath caught in her throat. Before she’d joined the Cult of the Black Virgin, she would have abhorred this kind of talk from her lover. But she was a different woman now. His words sent a frisson of pleasure up her spine, along the back of her neck, spreading out to flow just under each ear and wrap around the back of her scalp. Her face flushed and she smiled. She was proud to be Luc’s woman.

  The Black Virgin had taught her well. Jo knew now that she wasn’t a complete woman until she gave herself up to her lover. For it was only by giving up herself, handing her self over to Luc, that she could experience the joy of full spiritual and physical union with him.

  He was her other half, and she needed him. She required him. She wanted him to say that he would never let her go. He was as necessary to her, now, as oxygen.

  “Yes,” she said. “I do. I do. I do.” She helped him pull down her jeans so she could step out of them.

  Now she was standing, trembling, in front of him wearing one of her French-made bra and panty sets. It was creamy pink and black, all lace and satin, and it told him how long she’d been waiting for his touch. She hadn’t planned on wearing such delicate lingerie, but she had no more clean everyday underwear left in her suitcase.

  He kissed her breasts through the lace, lowered his face to tongue her navel as he ran his hands along her sides. She pushed her hips a little towards him and exhaled loudly.

  “You make me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world,” she said to the top of his head. “And I want to make you feel like the most desirable lover a woman could ask for.”

  He lifted his face to her and she bent to kiss him. The kiss disbanded time, carrying them to a place where there was no such thing as concussions, hospital beds, or cancelled engagement parties.

  She helped him shed his clothes until he stood beside her naked, every muscle tensed and posed to take her. It had been only a few weeks since she’d seen his big body, yet again she was as awed by his beauty as she’d been the first time, in Rocamadour. Her own body felt so fluid she had trouble staying on her feet and clung to him like a sinuous vine.

  “I need a wash,” he whispered hoarsely into her hair. “Let’s get in the shower.”

  There wasn’t a lot of room in Luc’s shower. It was an old house, with matching plumbing. But Jo didn’t care about the inadequacies of the plumbing as her lover pulled her into the spray.

  * * * *

  Luc fought hard to keep from coming all over Joanna’s soapy belly as they locked themselves into a slowly-rotating kiss that seemed to involve more than mouth-on-mouth, tongue-on-tongue, skin sliding over skin. He was surprised at the intensity of sensation, as if he’d never kissed a woman so perfectly desirable, so exquisitely delicious yet hungry at the same time.

  His tongue slid in and out of her mouth, searching out her very essence, tasting her, teasing her, expressing his desire and his need. Hot water sluiced around them, her hands as warm and wet as the soapy water.

  “Non, non, non. Don’t touch me,” he panted into her ear as one of her hands encircled his cock. “Not yet, anyway,” he said as he pulled her hand up to his chest and ground his cock along the slippery expanse of her belly. “It’s too good,” he said as he tried to stop himself from pushing his hips into her. Her gyrations weren’t helping his resolve any.

  “Turn around,” he said, wrapping his arms around her to hold her still. “I want to come inside you.” Once she obliged he slipped his cock between her wet buttocks and slid it up to her tailbone, shuddering. “Bend over. A little more.”

  The image of her wet, dark hair plastered against her straight back, her round little ass raised as high as she could manage in the cramped space, rivulets of water streaming across her smooth skin, was one he hoped to keep alive in his mind for the rest of his life. He was struck by such a fierce wave of desire that he froze, shocked at the sensation made almost violent by emotion. Then he pulled down his cock and plunged deeply into her, pleased at the part gasp, part grunting noise she made when he pulled her body back onto his. Bending his shaking knees, he withdrew almost all the way and plunged again. Trying to hold onto her, he pulled back and rammed into her again, and again.

  He lost all bearings—it was as if he was being turned inside out through the end of his cock. He flooded into her, helplessly, seemingly forever, only to regain awareness when he felt cool water running over his body.

  They’d drained the tank. He made a mental note to buy a bigger one for their new house.

  Our new house, he caught himself thinking. Joanna and I, in a home together. With Daniel. And then, maybe someone new…?

  He turned off the water, helped Joanna out of the shower and wrapped her and then himself in a towel. After she dried herself she twisted her long hair up in the towel and kissed him again.

  “I think you needed that,” she said playfully, rubbing her still-hard nipples along the hair on his chest.

  “How could you tell?” He said, lifting her off her feet and carrying her into his bedroom. She squealed as he dropped her onto the bed and clambered over top her, kissing her as if it was their first time all over again. “Now I’m going to give you what you need, mon amour.”

  Undoubtedly she had one of the most delectable feminine bodies he’d ever seen. Medium height, slender yet curvy. All her dips and hollows were perfectly matched by her roundness. Her breasts were especially beautiful. Heavy, round, just the way breasts were supposed to be, and surprisingly large on such a delicate frame. He kissed them now, licking and suckling the pointed nipples. She moaned, and he lowered his attentions to her belly. Then lower.

  He liked the fact she hadn’t shaved her pubic hair—just a little trim around the edges, he saw. Too many women seemed to feel ashamed of their body hair, and Luc couldn’t understand why. If they actually asked men, most women would find that their hair was anything but offensive. He buried his nose in Joanna’s bush and inhaled deeply.

  “Promise me you won’t ever shave this off, okay?”

  She giggled. “Okay. If you like it.” She arched her back.

>   “I love it,” he said through a mouthful of hair. “And I love every other part of you, too.”

  She spread her legs a little wider and pushed her hips upwards. He kissed the damp space between her legs, savoring her scent, made more intoxicating by a combination of her desire and traces of his ejaculate. He put out his tongue to taste her wet labia and was rewarded by a gush of her sweet juices and a moan coming from somewhere above his head.

  “Luc,” she whispered. “I swear I’m going to come if you so much as breathe on me.”

  He smiled and kissed her wet lips, licked them lightly, then again. He heard another moan, long and drawn out this time.

  Luc knew how to prolong a woman’s pleasure. He’d already driven Joanna half-mad with excitement on occasions just like this one. He’d kiss and lick every part of her sex except that part—the stiff little button that would make her explode with ecstasy.

  Because then it would all be over. And, usually, he didn’t want it to be over so soon. He loved eating pussy. But right now he sensed that Joanna’s body was too sensitive, too tightly-wound, to tolerate a long, slow, glorious building up to release. Being as gentle as he could, he kissed her hard little clit, drew it slowly into his mouth, and sucked on it tenderly, rhythmically, as she bucked and called out, scaring the dog.

  After Luc made it up to Joanna, she fell asleep. He was too alert for sleep, thinking of a way to make her last week in Cahors special. Of course he’d cancelled the surprise engagement party he’d organized for the weekend. He’d planned to drive her to the house in Nice, then introduce her to a room full of his family and friends as the woman he loved and would marry. He was anxious to have her meet the most important people in his life. But he realized, now, that until Daniel was ready to meet her, no one else could.