by Lisa Gregory
He touched Julia's face, and his hand moved over her jaw and onto her throat, wrapped in lace. He slid down her chest and cupped her breast. Her nipples hardened, pushing against the soft satin and lace. He wanted to see her, had to see her. His hands went to the tiny buttons behind her neck, clumsy in his haste. Julia bent her head to allow him easier access to the buttons, and desire slammed through him at the sweet, trusting vulnerability of her pose. The tiny, slick buttons slipped through his fingers, frustrating him, and he bit back a curse.
Julia giggled, and he smiled, loving the sound of her laughter. "So you think it's funny?" he asked with mock gruffness. "Did you wear this especially to thwart me?"
"No. I have no wish to do that."
James pushed aside the lace that he had parted and bent to kiss the nape of her neck. Her skin was like velvet over the hard bone of her spine. He knew she was strong; he had seen it every day as she worked with him. But she seemed as fragile as a rose petal, as soft as the satin of her dress. He wanted to protect her, cover her, and keep her from all harm. At the same time he ached to rip her clothes from her and push her to the floor, to take her with all the force within him.
"Do you know what you do to me?" he mumbled against her skin. "I'm burning for you. I think I'd kill to have you tonight."
Julia leaned back against him, sighing. His words melted her. James's hands came around to caress her breasts while his lips roamed the back of her neck, sending shivers racing through her. Her nipples strained against the cloth of her dress, seeking his touch, and moisture pooled between her legs. She moaned softly. All her earlier fears and hesitations were gone. She yearned for his touch on her naked skin. She moved against him, rubbing her body up and down.
"Julie! Oh, Julie." James buried his face in her hair, and his hands pressed her back hard against him, roaming her body.
A shudder took her "Please. Please, I want to feel you on me."
He tore at her buttons then, popping several free in his haste. Julia worked at the long rows on her cuffs. There had never seemed so many of the little things before. At last James had the dress unfastened past her waist. He untied the drawstrings of her several petticoats and slid them all, dress and petticoats, down her body to pool at her feet.
James stepped back, his eyes on Julia. His breath rasped in his throat. Julia sat down on the edge of the bed and unfastened the buttons of her high-top shoes. James watched her. As she bent over, he had an excellent view of the softly rounded tops of her breasts above the lace-trimmed chemise. Her breasts were milk white and deliciously full. They trembled with the movements of her arms. His fingers itched to reach out and cup them.
Julia pulled off her shoes and reached up under the long, loose legs of her lace-trimmed underdrawers to take off the garters holding up her stockings. She rolled the white stockings down her legs and off her feet. She glanced up. James was watching her every move. She stood up, and her fingers went to the buttons of her chemise. Her chemise, like her underpants, was cream-colored satin edged in lace, a soft, lush garment that invited the touch. The hard buttons of her nipples pressed against the smooth material. James thought of crushing the material in his hands and pulling it aside to reveal her breasts.
Julia knew a flash of uncertainty at the thought of baring her body to James, but the smoldering fire in his eyes made her bold. She unbuttoned her chemise and pulled the garment off. James made an unintelligible noise.
"What?"
"Nothing. Go on. Don't stop."
James undressed as he watched her, his hands moving clumsily over his clothes. Julia pulled the pins from the heavy knot of her hair, and it tumbled down to her waist, a shining waterfall of gold. It barely veiled her breasts in front, parting over the pert thrust of her nipples.
Julia untied the drawstring of her final undergarment. She could hardly breathe. She felt shy and hungry all at once. She released the underpants and let them fall to the floor.
James gazed at her, entranced, unable to move. Julia was beautiful, small and delicate, yet utterly female. Her figure was more lush than it had been when he knew her before, her hips and breasts more rounded and womanly. She was graceful, with none of the awkwardness of youth. A tremor ran through him.
"You are more lovely than ever."
Julia blushed, pleased and relieved and a little shy before his ardent gaze. "So are you." James was broader and stronger than he had been years ago, the black hair thicker across his chest, his arms more muscled.
He chuckled, and his eyebrows went up. "Beautiful? I think not."
"To me you are."
Heat flooded him at her words. Quickly he stripped off the rest of his clothes and went to her. Julia watched him approach. She had forgotten the full grace and power of his naked male form. His manhood thrust out from among the cluster of dark curls, hard and distended. James stopped inches from her and rested his hands on her shoulders. His hands glided downward over her silken hair until they reached her breasts. He wrapped his hands around her hair and lifted it, revealing the soft white orbs centered by dark rose nipples. He brushed a strand of hair across her nipples, teasing them into hardness. He pushed her hair back so that it fell behind her, exposing the full glory of her breasts. His fingers curved over the luscious globes and cupped them from beneath, lifting them up as though to test their weight. He circled her nipples with his thumbs and watched them tighten at his touch.
He released his breath in a shaky sigh. "I don't know how I lived so long without you."
Carefully he took one nipple between his forefinger and thumb and rolled it, gently squeezing and pulling, delighting in the way it puckered and hardened at his touch. He bent his head and kissed the rosy bud. Sparks showered through Julia's abdomen at the feel of his mouth on her, and moisture dampened her thighs. His tongue slid over her nipple and around it, then softly lashed it until Julia whimpered with pleasure. His mouth widened on her breast, sucking rhythmically.
Julia moaned, and her hands came up to clasp his shoulders, as though to steady herself in a tilling world. Her fingers dug into his flesh at each new shattering sensation. He bent her back over his arm, feasting on her breasts, and his other hand slipped down her body and into the cleft between her legs. His fingers slid into her moist warmth, caressing the slick, hot flesh. Julia's breath caught in her throat, and her fingernails scraped his skin. Wantonly her legs moved apart, inviting his touch. Gently, lovingly, James explored the folds of her femininity, finding the hard little nub that was the center of pleasure and teasing it until she was groaning and twisting in his arms.
Julia breathed his name over and over, her hands running over his back and arms and winding through his hair. James trembled under the force of his longing. Julia's hands on his flesh, the sweet taste of her in his mouth, the feel of her damp, utterly soft womanhood against his fingertips all combined to make him ready to explode with desire. He wanted to explore every inch of her skin with his hands and mouth. He wanted to make her pant and groan and cry out with pleasure. He needed it.
"Julie." He lifted his head and looked down at her. Julia's face was soft and dreamy, focused on nothing but the passion raging through her. Just looking at her sent desire shooting through him. He couldn't wait any longer.
James lifted her into his arms. Julia opened her eyes in hazy questioning. "James? What—"
"I'm taking you to bed." His voice was low and rough with barely restrained hunger.
Her mouth curved sensually. "Good."
He laid her down on the bed and stood for a moment looking at her. Her pale hair was spread out across the sheets, a silken backdrop for her shapely form. Her breasts were plump, the perfect size for a man's hand, and her nipples stood out proudly, dark and swollen from his kisses. James ran his tongue across his lips; he could taste them there. Her waist was slender, her abdomen flat even after children; the knobs of her pelvic bones rose sharply beneath her satiny skin. His eyes roamed lower to the flow of hips into thighs, to the womanly V covered
by pale curls. She was beautiful, perfect. He ran a hand down her body, across her breasts and stomach to the soft flesh of her inner thigh, and his fingers tangled in the curls. Julia's eyes closed with pleasure at his touch.
Julia raised her arms to him, and James settled onto the bed beside her. Her hands went to his chest, and James had to bite his lower lip to slow the raging force of his desire. He had to feel her hands on him no matter how close to the edge it pushed him. Her fingers moved across the breadth of his chest, relearning the texture of his skin and the pattern of bone and muscle. She traced the jutting line of his collarbone and slid her fingers down into the prickly black hairs upon his chest. Her forefingers found the small masculine nipples, and James sucked in his breath. Julia glanced up at his face. His features were rigid, his mouth slightly open, and the intensity of his eyes sent a searing heat right through her.
She smiled and lightly moved her fingers back and forth across the nipples. James tightened all over. Shyly Julia placed her mouth on one tiny bud. She had wanted to do that years ago when she had known James, but then she had been too young and apprehensive to try anything he hadn't initiated. When James groaned, his hands clenching into the sheets, she grew bolder. Her tongue played over his nipple, stroking, circling, lashing it with wet heat.
"Oh, God. Julie." He moved quickly then, rolling her onto her back and moving over her. She loved the weight of him on her, loved looking up into his face, burning and taut. Her legs opened to him, and he slid into her. He moved slowly, carefully, despite the effort it cost him, afraid that he might cause her some discomfort.
But there was no discomfort, only the joy of him filling her, the satisfaction of wholeness. James paused, struggling for the control that he almost lost at the exquisite pleasure of her tight sheath gripping him. He began to move, sliding almost out, then all the way in again. He moved slowly, sailing the edge of a dark, wild pleasure. Julia's hands slid down his body to his buttocks, and her hips moved beneath him. James watched her face, taut and rapt, as he stroked, and his movements began to speed up. Their sweat-damp skin clung as his body rubbed over hers. He moved ever faster, his hips pumping, Julia felt each stroke to the depths of her being. Like a knot drawn ever more tightly, her desire heightened, and she strained up against James, seeking the bliss of completion. He was on fire, every inch of his skin quivering with sensations. Then, at last, the hot surge of utter delight and release came to him, and he groaned, shuddering, as his seed spilled into her Julia buried her face in his shoulder, holding on to him tightly, and the wave of pleasure took her, too. For one long moment, they were mindless, selfless, bound together in an eternity of love.
He lay upon her, his weight crushing her into the mattress, but when, after a time, he started to roll away, Julia's arms wrapped around him, pressing him to her tightly. James smiled against her skin and kissed her tightly on the shoulder His arms encircled her, and he rolled onto his back, taking her with him, so that she lay stretched atop him. He couldn't remember ever feeling quite this blissful and at peace. He stroked his hand down her long golden hair.
"I love you, wife," he murmured. Julia laughed shakily. She thought she could have gotten up and yelled and danced with joy, except she was so wonderfully exhausted she couldn't move. "And I love you, husband. I love you always."
❧
Sarah settled the children in bed, tucking Julia's Bonnie in with Emily and putting Vance with Cal. It was a relief to see Cal accepting the other boy in his room without protest. She had worried that Cal might be difficult to deal with while the other children were with them during Julia's and James's honeymoon. No doubt Bonnie and Vance were a little lost without their mother for the first time, and if Cal had been antagonistic, it would have been an awful situation. But be was chatting with Vance about what he would show him the next day, and Sarah closed the door on them with a smile.
She walked down the stairs to the kitchen just as Luke stepped in the back door. For a moment they simply looked at each other The air had been thick with tension between them since the wedding this afternoon. During the ceremony, watching James and Julia pledge their love for each other, Sarah had been swept with a wave of longing for her own marriage. She remembered how happy and in love she and Luke had been, and she had wished desperately that they could recapture what they had had. She had sneaked a glance at Luke and caught him watching her, the same remorse and yearning in his eyes. For an instant there had been the old closeness between them, a sweet remembrance of the commitment and love they shared.
It was still inside them, Sarah knew, blocked by Luke's stubborn insistence on protecting her from himself. He loved and desired her as much as she loved and desired him, yet she was dying of loneliness for him. She had tried to talk to him about it, but Luke had managed to avoid any conversation after the wedding and on the ride home, using the presence of the children as a buffer between them.
But now there was no one else there. There was no way he could hide. Sarah's heart began to hammer in her chest. She was scared that she would fail and ruin what little they had left. But she couldn't continue to live like this!
She drew a shaky breath. "Luke."
"Sarah," His face was closed and cautious. "How are the children?"
"In bed."
"Any problems?"
"No. Cal was fine. Even Bonnie didn't cry."
"Good."
"It was a nice wedding, don't you think?"
"Yes. Julia looked happy."
"I'm sure she is. They've waited a long time to be together."
Luke nodded. He glanced around the room, searching for something else to say.
But Sarah spoke first, forestalling him. "All through the wedding, I kept remembering ours. Do you remember it?"
"Of course." He relaxed into a genuine smile. "I was scared to death."
"Were you? It didn't show. I thought I was the only one who was terrified."
He shook his head. "I remember Stu glowering like he wanted to kill me and Jenny in tears. They hated your marrying me."
"They were concerned for me. They didn't know how happy you would make me, what a good husband and father you would be." She paused. "I want it back, Luke! I'm tired of being alone, of missing you and wanting you and never—" She stopped, fighting back the flood of tears that threatened to overwhelm her.
"Sarah! Oh, God, don't cry." He came to her quickly, and his work-roughened hand smoothed away her tears. "Don't cry. I'm not worth it."
"You are! You're worth far more than my tears!" Her hands came up to his chest, grasping the material of his shirt. "Please. Come back to my bed. Love me again." Sarah blinked away her tears. "What will it take? I'll beg, if that's what you want."
"Sarah, don't! You know that's not what I want."
"Then what? What do you want?"
"You," be replied thickly. "Only you."
Sarah stretched up on tiptoe, offering her mouth to him. "You have that," she whispered.
Her lips brushed his, and a tremor shook Luke. His eyes closed, his face melting into the familiar pattern of passion. His hands came up to her waist, spreading wide, his thumbs brushing the undersides of her breasts. Desire thrummed in him.
It took almost nothing to set him off. He wanted her all the time these days. Luke knew that for a while Sarah had tried to tempt him. She had teased him in hundreds of little ways, taking down her hair in front of him or coming into his room wearing only her nightgown or unbuttoning her blouses farther down than her usual modesty allowed. Sometimes she had simply looked at him in that heavy-lidded way he'd seen so many times before in her, and he knew she wanted him. Even that was enough to ignite the fires in him.
He was beginning to realize that those fires would never be put out. Sarah had stopped the small seductions. She no longer tried to arouse him, but he was still aroused. Sarah didn't have to do anything, say anything, look any way. Just her being there was enough to bring his nerves to sizzling life. He had only to look at her to want her, had on
ly to think about her to know the fierce swell of hunger deep in his abdomen. Luke knew that only age or death would bring an end to his desire for her. Maybe not even that. Sometimes he thought that this must be what hell was: wanting her with every fiber of his being, yet having to stop himself from taking what he wanted.
Today at the wedding Sarah had looked at him with her heart in her eyes, and love and desire for her had filled him. The rest of the day he had been able to think of nothing else but coming to her bed tonight. Now, with her reaching up to kiss him, he was shaken with longing. He could smell her, touch her, taste her—all the things he had been missing for so long. She was like water to a man lost in the desert, and be wanted to drink her in.
For a long moment Luke stood, his entire body rigid, hovering on the brink of giving in to his longings. Then, at last, he jerked away. He strode across the room, crossing his arms across his chest and clamping his hands under his arms, as though to forcibly keep them from wandering where they chose. "God, Sarah! Don't tempt me."
Sarah made a noise of frustration and whirled away, slamming her hand, palm flat, against the door frame. "Damn! Damn! Damn!"
He whirled back and stared at her, amazed by her language. "Sarah!"
She faced him defiantly, chin thrust out. "Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot. A saint doesn't say such things, does she?"
He grimaced. "I never said you were a saint."
"You didn't have to say it," she retorted hotly. "Everything you do shows that that's what you think. Sweet little Sarah. Porcelain doll Sarah. Up-on-a-pedestal Sarah. She doesn't get angry, she doesn't get hungry, she doesn't have low, lustful desires like the rest of humanity. Isn't that right?"
"Of course not."
"Oh? I thought that was how you saw me. You certainly don't see me as a real woman. One who desires her man."
Even her words stirred him. Luke glanced away, struggling for control. "I refuse to endanger you to satisfy my own selfish lust."