Gift of Gold

warm. He palmed her breast and felt the instant tautening of her nipple. When he heard her faint intake of breath, he groaned and bent his head to capture her mouth.
    Her hand trailed down his hip to tease the inside of his thigh, then she took his hard manhood into her palm. She could drive him over the edge with just her touch. She knew exactly how to stroke him, sensed precisely how to cradle the throbbing fullness until he was on fire for her. When she squeezed gently, it was his turn to suck in his breath.
    “Jesus, honey, that feels so good,” he said huskily. “You’ve got the magic touch.”
    “Thanks to you,” she murmured demurely. “Everything I know I’ve learned from you.”
    “Remember that,” he retorted as a wave of possessiveness surged through him. “This won’t work with anybody else.
    “Is that right? I thought all men were pretty much the same in the dark.”
    “A vicious myth. Totally untrue!” Deliberately he parted her legs with his hands, seeking the hot, damp core of her body. “Verity, I’m not joking. What you and I have is special and you know it. Why else would you have avoided getting involved with any other man until I came along?”
    He sensed her smile in the darkness. “You’ve made it clear on many occasions that the only reason I was still single when you showed up was that no other man was willing to put up with my sharp tongue and my temper.”
    Jonas grinned. “Well, those were contributing factors, I’ll admit. But the main reason you were still alone was that you were waiting for me. You didn’t know it, but that’s what it was. Fortunately for you, I didn’t let the thorns get in my way when I decided to go after the rose.”
    “Jonas, your arrogance is showing.”
    “A man should take pride in his accomplishments. Taming a shrew is a hell of an achievement. Very few men around these days are even capable of it. It’s a lost art.”
    “Is that right?”
    “Uh-huh.” He prowled slowly down her body, inhaling her intoxicating scent as he drew closer and closer to his goal. He settled himself between her thighs, lifting her legs over his shoulders. He parted her gently with his fingers and lowered his head.
    “Jonas.”
    Her short, neat nails dug into his shoulders as he tasted her rich, hot flavor. He could hear her small gasps of pleasure and gloried in the way she responded to him.
    It always sent a primitive thrill through him to know that he could turn Verity from a prim, disapproving, aggressively independent little tyrant into a passionate, seductive sorceress who craved him and him alone. He would never get enough of this kind of reaction, Jonas thought as she shivered in his arms. Verity had a way of making him shatteringly aware of his manhood. He was addicted to the sensation.
    Deliberately he deepened the intimate kiss, reveling in her earthy, feminine taste and scent. Verity’s nails raked his skin. She would leave her mark on him tonight and he was determined to leave his on her.
    It was all he could do to hold himself in check as he listened to her husky cries of delight. He sent his tongue on passionate forays until she was a shuttering, writhing bundle of femininity.
    Then he could wait no longer. When he felt her body begin to tighten, he surged up along the length of her. She reached for him, pulling him close and wrapping her legs around his waist. He found her mouth and let her taste herself on his lips. The erotic kiss drove him wild.
    “Hold me.” His voice was hoarse with passion. “Hold on to me, Verity.” His demand was very much like the one he made on her when he unleashed the psychic power that allowed him dangerous glimpses into the past. He needed her when the past came up around him, and he needed her when he was in the grip of his own raging desire.
    “Yes, Jonas, oh yes.”
    He pushed slowly, heavily into her, needing to feel the silken walls of her soft passage close around him. As always he was aware of the slight resistance with which her body greeted him. She was small, and tight, and so warm. Then, under his insistent, filling pressure, the hot, moist sheath began to accommodate him. He buried himself deep inside until he lost himself in her clinging heat.
    Together they lost themselves in the rippling, clashing currents of desire. When Jonas felt Verity convulse around him and heard the tiny, unmistakable cries that signaled her release, he gave himself over completely to the surging sea.
    His own