J.T. thought he heard Caitlan murmur, “please,” but couldn’t be sure for the blood rushing through his head and every other vital part of his body. He lifted his mouth from the warm, fragrant hallow of her neck and shoulder just as the clasp on her bra gave way. Her full, perfect breasts spilled into his waiting hands, her pale skin gleaming in the moonlight. Her nipples drew into tight buds, from his gaze or the cold air, he couldn’t be sure. Grazing his thumbs over the stiff crests, he elicited a moan of pleasure from her that echoed his own enjoyment in just watching her uninhibited response. He glanced up into her face. Her gaze was heavy-lidded with passion, any uncertainty she might have harbored minutes ago replaced by encouragement.
Her approval was all the inducement he needed. Lowering his head, he dragged his tongue across her collarbone and leisurely downward, toward the bountiful offering he held in his hands. She started at the first sweep of his tongue around the bottom swell of her breast. She moaned and slid her fingers into his hair when he opened his mouth wide over a nipple and suckled deeply, strongly, his fingers kneading the soft flesh.
A shudder passed through her and she arched toward him. Holding his mouth to her breast, she showed him in that one daring move that she needed him, this wondrous contact, as much as he needed her.
Lifting his head, he guided her slender hands to the buttons on his shirt. He braced his palms on the wall on either side of her head, looking at her flushed face. “Open my shirt, Caitie,” he told her. “I want to feel your breasts against me.”
She attempted the task but couldn’t coordinate her trembling fingers to slip the buttons through the holes. After a moment that seemed more like an eternity to J.T., he laughed abruptly and impatiently brushed her hands aside to do the deed himself. An ever-widening V quickly appeared with each button, all the way down to his belly.
The sudden cool touch of her hands on his heated flesh excited him beyond what he believed to be possible. Her palms smoothed over his chest in a timid exploration, the muscles in his belly rippling. Reining in his control and once again bracing his palms on the wall behind her, he curled his fingers into tight fists against the rough, cool wood. He granted her license to touch and explore, knowing it would cost him dearly but uncaring because her light caresses had him blazing like a match to dry kindling.
She looked up at him, her gaze shining with awe and sensual enjoyment. “You feel so good, like silk and steel ...” She plucked a nipple and he drew in a quick breath, a shy, but wholly seductive smile curving her mouth. Her tongue bathed her bottom lip with moisture, and she slowly leaned forward, tentatively touching her tongue to the flat brown disc, tasting him.
Everything in J.T. coiled up tight, and he hissed at the exquisite sensations darting through him. Desire pooled heavily in his groin, pulsing, throbbing. Tangling his fingers in her hair, he pulled her mouth back under his. “Enough,” he said gruffly, pleasure and pain meshing. “I’m going to die if I don’t feel you against me now.” He captured her mouth at the same time that he crushed his chest against her breasts. Their mutual moans of satisfaction filled the dim barn.
Releasing her hair, he slowly slid his hands down the slope of her back and over the curve of her bottom. He lifted her tighter against him, reveling in the soft sounds she made, the way her hands went wild on him, on his chest, in his hair. He bunched her skirt in his fist and drew up the material, exposing her thighs to the cool night air. Softening their kisses, he whispered against her mouth, “Hold your skirt for me, sweetheart.” Having Caitlan’s hands immobile and off him gave J.T. time to shore up his control again. There was too much he wanted to do to her, with her, and she already had him on the edge.
Mindless with want, Caitlan ignored the little voice inside her head warning her of the consequences that could result from her actions. After the arousing, soul-blending incident with the medallion she was burning up inside, aching to be filled, aching to experience everything J.T. had to offer. Doing as he’d ordered, she curled her fingers around the chambray and petticoat, holding the ruffles up for him.
“Good girl,” he murmured. Running his hands up her thigh, he slipped his long, callused fingers beneath the band of her panties to cup her bottom. She let out a soft sigh, and he smiled.
“You have the warmest, softest skin,” he said, dragging his fingers around so his thumbs brushed the soft curls between her legs in a butterfly caress.
She drew in a deep quivering breath at the husky tone of his voice and his light, teasing touch. When she looked into his eyes she saw that his desire matched her own. No matter how wrong this was, she knew she wanted this intimacy, and more. She didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, but for tonight she was his.
Slowly, he knelt before her. Caitlan sensed his determination to take things slow, for her sake and pleasure as well as his own. He hooked his thumbs beneath the elastic band of her panties and slowly pulled them down, and her passion grew with every inch he exposed. His gaze devoured her like hot, licking flames of fire.
She felt no shame, only a soul-shattering longing to give him whatever he wanted from her. Her emotions were so riveting, the yearning to be with him so devastatingly powerful, she experienced a moment of panic and tried to move away. “J.T.—”
“Shhh, he said, pressing his palms on her thighs, preventing her escape. “Please let me.”
Caitlan heard the ragged need in his voice, the throaty plea that bordered on sheer urgency, because it mirrored her own swirling emotions. Unable to deny what her body and soul craved, she allowed him to draw her panties down, over her boots. He helped her step out of them, then he absently stuffed the scrap of silk in his back pocket.
He sat back on his heels, not touching her when she wished he would, his gaze charting a slow, heated path up the length of her, lingering in places that craved his caress. Warmth stung her cheeks, and she closed her eyes to hide her embarrassment, knowing she must look like a shameless hussy, half clothed, breasts pouting, skirt clutched in her fists to reveal the part of her that wanted his touch so badly. Everything was bared to him, and she idly wondered if he could see or sense the deep, abiding love blooming inside her heart for him.
Love. Oh, dear Lord, she couldn’t be falling in love with him!
“Look at me, Caitie.” The restraint in his voice belied his heavy, aroused breathing.
Her lashes fluttered open and she glanced down at him, blushing all over again when she saw the carnal heat in his gaze. She started to lower the skirt to hide from his hungry eyes.
“No, don’t,” he said abruptly, stopping her. He moved closer, adoring her with his gaze. “You’re so beautiful.”
With him, she felt beautiful, euphoric.
The unexpected sigh of his hot, damp breath on her inner thigh sent a bolt of liquid heat surging through her, nearly short-circuiting her nerves. His strong hands held her quivering thighs apart and supported her when her knees would have buckled. She realized his brazen, erotic intent in the way his tongue caressed her flesh—long, soft strokes that teased and tantalized in an attempt to coax her thighs farther apart for him.
“J.T.,” she gasped, hating how her voice trembled with uncertainty and the desire for him to continue with his sensual invasion. The tug-of-war of emotions raging inside her confused her, wanting J.T. to continue, but knowing how wrong it would be to let him take her any higher.
But the sensations didn’t feel wrong, not with J.T.
“Open for me, Caitie,” he murmured huskily, and when she finally did he groaned deep in his throat and pressed his mouth against the apex of her thighs, tracing the soft, alluring folds with his tongue, probing delicately.
Caitlan moaned at the exquisite feelings J.T. evoked in her, soaring her out of control, past the stars and the heavens. He pushed her closer to a place she knew would be nothing short of paradise.
J.T. reveled in Caitlan’s open response, loving the breathless catch in her throat and the lush, petal softness of her desire. He nuzzled her softly
, wanting to savor the sweetness of her, wanting to fill himself with every secret, silken part of her. He tasted her sensual melting just as her panting filled his head. Knowing she neared the crest, he splayed his hands on her quivering thighs, lending whatever support he could.
Then it came, the tiny spasms rippling through her. He listened to her breathless moan of pleasure, then his name slipped past her lips as the tremors subsided.
In a fluid movement he stood, ignoring the stiffness in his knees for the beautiful expression on Caitlan’s face. Before she had a chance to float back to earth, before the edge of her climax ebbed away, he pulled her leg around his hips, pressing denim against her sensitive flesh, and let her get used to the hard, thick length of him, and the idea of them joining completely.
Her eyes widened in shock, but before she could say anything he covered her lips with his and thrust his tongue into her mouth, kissing her slowly, deeply, showing her how good she tasted, like warm, silky honey and feminine satisfaction. He showed her with the deep stroking of his tongue how he wanted to make love to her body. Showing her, again and again, that he couldn’t get enough of her, that tasting her, kissing her, touching her, was nothing compared to the way he wanted to fill her and make her his. Only his. He ached with a raw need so powerful it threatened the shields around his heart. The emotion frightened the hell out of him, but he refused to give up the sweet softness and solace Caitlan’s body offered.
Caitlan wrapped her arms around his neck and held him close. Twisting sinuously, she rubbed against him, pleasuring herself and at the same time arousing him to the point of exploding. She went wild, arching closer, and when he heard those broken whimpers begin, signaling how close she was to climaxing yet again, he pulled away from her, letting her leg go.
She gave a cry of protest, and he palmed her breast, rubbing her nipple with his thumb. “Tell me what you want, Caitlan,” he demanded. He tried to shake the vulnerability creeping up on him, the feeling of becoming so totally lost in Caitlan that he’d never be the same again.
She looked like a wanton gypsy, her disheveled hair framing her pretty face, her lips swollen from his kisses. Her eyes were limpid with passion and something deeper and more touching that J.T. didn’t want to analyze. “I want ...” She looked away, a timid catch to her voice.
Damn, he couldn’t believe she was so flustered after everything he’d done to her, everything she’d done so uninhibitedly. With his finger beneath her chin, he brought her gaze back to his. “Tell me, Caitie,” he urged.
“I want you,” she pleaded in a ragged whisper. “I want this. Please.”
Her confession should have brought him satisfaction. Instead, he experienced a startling wave of emotion that gripped his heart. He refused to fully acknowledge the growing feeling.
Guiding her hand to the front of his jeans, he cupped her palm over the burgeoning ridge there, leaving the ultimate decision up to her. “If you want me, then help me, Caitlan. Show me exactly what you want and I’ll give it to you. I’ll make it so good you’ll be addicted, and I’ll give you as much as you want....” He let his words drift away, giving her the option of halting their lovemaking if she wanted to.
Her fingers trembled, but she didn’t pull away. A reluctant kind of acquiescence shimmered in her eyes, as if she couldn’t help wanting him, any more than he could control how being one with her was becoming as essential as breathing.
“Once I’m deep inside of you there’ll be no turning back,” he went on. “The choice is yours, Caitie, but make your decision fast.”
She did then, tugging at his zipper and freeing him. Groaning at her sweet surrender, he wrapped her fingers around his length, moving slowly, sliding against her cool palm. When the building pressure shoved him to the very edge he drew her leg around his waist once again, but this time nothing separated their flesh.
“Wrap both of your legs around me, Caitie,” he said, and she did, circling her arms around his neck at the same time. Her nipples grazed his chest, and their bellies rubbed erotically. Bracing her against the wall, he tilted her hips for his entrance. She was wet, very wet, and slick from spent passion, but as he pushed inside her, she stiffened and whimpered, burying her face into his shoulder.
J.T.’s body shook. She was tight, so tight he suspected this was her first time, or very close to it. But he was at a point where he couldn’t stop, not even if someone put a gun to his head. Ignoring the instinctive urge to thrust deeply, he murmured soft words to her, entering her slowly. He pulled her legs as high and tight as he could around him, and with a sweet little cry she arched and he slid into that satin sheath to the hilt. He groaned as liquid heat engulfed him, fusing them as one. They fit perfectly together, he thought, as if they had been made for one another.
Wanting to lose himself in the magic of her, he moved slowly, then thrust harder, sliding deeper, over and over, until her moans of pleasure mingled with his.
Still, he didn’t let go, found he couldn’t release that knot winding tighter and tighter within him. With each silken stroke, the flame of desire burned hotter, incinerating his original carnal hunger into deeper, more intense emotions. He’d told her he couldn’t care, but he was feeling and needing and she was the reason.
And somehow he’d known it would come to this. From the first moment in the line shack when he’d woken to find her beneath him, he’d known he’d have her. Then it had been pure lust. Now the white-hot need ribboned around his soul, tugging him beyond the realm of reality.
She whimpered his name, a throaty plea to end the madness he created. Her fingers dug into the muscles in his back, her legs gripped him tight, and she rubbed her breasts against his chest, begging him for the pleasure waiting on the horizon.
But she was the one who held the key to their fulfillment, he thought in a desire-filled haze. He didn’t want to spiral over that crest without her, and vaguely wondered when he’d become so chivalrous, putting a woman’s needs before his own. With Caitlan, it mattered.
“C’mon, Caitie,” he whispered huskily in her ear, tempering his strokes to slow, deep thrusts that filled her up, then retreating until she cried for him. “Be greedy, sweetheart. Take it all and let it happen.”
And then it did. Her lashes fell to sultry half slits and she moaned softly, tossing her head back. She looked beautiful, tousled and incredibly sexy while she took her pleasure. The medallion grew hot where it was crushed between his chest and hers, a tingly heat that showered through his veins like sparks of wild lightning, giving him the sensation of being one with Caitlan, she the other half of him he’d been waiting a lifetime for.
Ecstasy swelled up and through him like an explosion, and he surged one final time, surrendering himself to her without any barriers. Endless pulses of release wracked his body, the rapture piercing and overwhelming. He groaned, low and deep and animal-like, luxuriating in the exquisite awareness of being alive again, of feeling so deeply, so intimately joined with Caitlan. She erased the loneliness and absolute despair he’d been living with for sixteen long years.
Emotionally and physically satiated, J.T. sank to his knees on the cool earth floor, taking Caitlan with him so she straddled his lap and their bodies remained joined. Uncaring of his jeans bunched beneath him and the uncomfortable position, his only thought was that he didn’t want to let her go, didn’t want the emptiness and coldness that was sure to pour back into him once she left him.
He wondered if he was the one who’d become addicted.
In the quiet aftermath he held her close, reveling in the erratic beating of her heart against his, savoring the way she clung to him, body trembling, face buried in his neck, her breath warm on his damp skin. That damnable medallion had cooled some, but the impression of gold seared his flesh. He soothingly skimmed his hands down her back, over the swell of her hip, then up under her skirt to caress the soft, warm flesh of her inner thighs. He grew hard again, impossibly hard, wanting her with a sudden raw need that should have surprised him
but didn’t. Not anymore.
Leaving the temptation to touch her where they joined, to start another raging fire with a gentle stroke over her petal-soft folds, he lifted his hands to her hair, tangling the strands between his fingers. Gently, he lifted her head from his shoulder, wanting to reassure himself that she was okay.
The dazed expression on her face he understood. He felt the same way. However, the confusion shimmering in her violet eyes grabbed at him. “Are you okay?” His voice was a hushed whisper in the dark confines of the barn.
Caitlan nodded jerkily, not trusting herself to speak. She was still reeling from the flare of sensations that had burgeoned through her body the moment she’d splintered apart with pleasure. She tried sorting through the multitude of emotions, and the way the medallion had heated against her flesh, the molten fire of it nearly making her breathless.
And then she’d been drawn into J.T., physically and emotionally, sapped of every living force she possessed. The connection to him had been powerful, an undeniable pull. In the distance a wisp of a promise had beckoned to her, luring her closer and closer, until she’d been swept into the vortex, her heart blending with J.T.’s, her soul meshing with his in a complete oneness.
She wanted to explore what had happened, but the crazy things J.T. was doing to her body, the lazy, arousing slide of his hands down her back, under her skirt, cupping her breast, prevented coherent thought. She ignored the uncomfortable bite of the dirt floor digging into her knees, and the cold night air caressing her bare flesh, in favor of J.T.’s warm, reviving touch.
“I want you again, Caitlan,” he said, his mouth open and hot and wet against her throat. Pulling her hips closer, he buried the thick, hard length of him deeper inside her. It occurred to him then that she deserved better than to be taken in a barn, with the smell of horses, hay, and tack filling the air. “Come to my bed with me.”
Kiss of an Angel Page 18