“Faster.”
“Yes,” she said, a sibilant murmur of need. “Yes.”
He wanted to tongue her, taste her, bite her nipples, and suck her into his mouth. All he did was sit there, allow himself to be taken, used, drained. He felt himself gush into her, the exquisite pleasure so powerful it stopped at the barest edge of pain.
Her climax was announced with a keening moan. When she was done, when her rhythmic contractions eased, and her breathing was long and slow, he lifted her and carried her to his bed, staggering a little, but feeling as if he’d conquered the whole damn world.
When dawn woke him, Montgomery watched Veronica as she slept, the rising sun casting an orange glow over the room.
Passion was wrapping a net around both of them, yet he had no intention of fighting free. From the beginning, he’d been startled by her complete surrender to him. Now, he was beginning to know the woman herself, and knowledge of Veronica only bound him closer.
She knew a little about his past but not the whole of it. The truth was a tale filled with tragedy and stupidity, and wasn’t a story he wanted to tell.
He had a feeling, however, she wouldn’t rest until she’d heard all of it.
What would she say? Would the knowledge change her response to him?
Her hair was mussed around her face. Her lips were pink, her complexion was rosy.
What is it about me that displeases you?Why had she felt so lacking?
She knew about Caroline. Yet in the past weeks, she’d never said a word.
He reached out and placed his hand on her arm, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath his palm. Even in sleep she was alluring. Or perhaps she was simply as elemental as air currents to his ship. He needed her.
Her eyes blinked open.
“Come flying with me,” he said, feeling as shy as a boy.
“Flying?” she asked, stretching. “When?”
“Tomorrow.” He amended that comment after a glance at the window. “Today.”
She looked worried.
“There’s no need to be afraid,” he said. “I’m taking the balloon up to test the air currents.”
“I’m not afraid,” she said, but he suspected she was. Veronica had a core of stubbornness to her, one that would refuse to admit any fear.
He waited, patient, tracing a pattern on her arm with one finger.
Slowly, she nodded.
“Is that a yes?” he asked.
She nodded again, accompanying the gesture with a smile.
“If for no other reason than to prove to me you’re not afraid,” he guessed.
Her broadening smile was worthy of a kiss.
“Passion becomes you, Veronica,” he said, pulling back. “Your cheeks are pink, and you look well loved.”
He pulled her into his arms again, and any further conversation was lost beneath a tide of pleasure.
Chapter 21
When Veronica awoke in Montgomery’s bed the next morning, it was to find herself alone and the morning well advanced. She rang for Elspeth, dressed, then walked to the distillery, her stomach fluttering with excitement.
