Gift of Gold

touch you.”
    She felt his hands on the insides of her thighs, prying apart her legs. Verity was suddenly aware of her own vulnerability. Things were going much too fast, she realized. She needed a little time.
    “Wait,” she begged as he anchored her resisting leg with his own heavy thigh and began to explore her with increasing intimacy. “Please, Jonas. Not so fast.”
    He leaned over her and kissed one peaked breast. “But you’re ready for me, sweetheart.” His fingertips found the tiny bud of desire that lay sheltered in the curls below her waist. When he stroked it lightly, Verity gasped and lifted herself against his hand. “You see?” he said with soft satisfaction. “You’re more than ready. My hand is damp from touching you. You’re slick and moist and welcoming. Honey, I can’t wait. Don’t ask me to go slowly tonight. I’m desperate for you.”
    She closed her eyes as her body responded to his touch. Behind her lids she expected to see some fantasy generated by the fever of desire pulsing through her. But what she saw was an endless dark corridor. Once more she was running from an unseen pursuer and once more she was convinced that pursuer had eyes of ancient gold.
    Verity froze and frantically lifted her lashes, willing the vision to pass. “Jonas, I’m scared.”
    “Not of me. You can’t be frightened of me.” He raised his head and looked down at her as he felt the new rigidity in her body. “I won’t let you be scared of me.”
    “Wait, please, I need to think. I can’t get something out of my head. Something that happened earlier when you picked up the gun. It’s been bothering me and I want to…”
    He interrupted her with a harsh exclamation. “Don’t think about that now. Think about me. Think about us. I’m going to make you forget what happened earlier. Look at me, Verity. Open your eyes, dammit, and
look at me.
”
    He loomed over her, parting her legs with his own, caging her within his hands, blocking out the moonlight. Verity looked up at him, her whole world suddenly narrowed down to her tiny bedroom and the man who dominated it.
    Once more the fierce sensual need swept through her. She did want him. This
was
the right man. There was no need to fear Jonas.
    Verity was poised on a sharp blade of desire. She could not stay teetering on the brink for long. The tension was too great. It would tear her apart. She must either pull back now, this instant, or she must hurl herself forward into the darkness.
    “Hold on to me, sweetheart,” Jonas whispered, the words raw. “Just put your arms around me and hold on to me. Take me inside you. We’ll both be safe then.”
    She wanted to tell him again that she did not understand but instead she clung to him. She held him tightly, passionately aware of the strength in him, wanting that strength for herself. When he slid one hand under her buttocks, lifting her, she gripped him so fiercely that she knew she must be leaving marks with her nails.
    Jonas sucked in his breath under the impact of the small punishment Verity was delivering and then he pushed himself against her. She felt the thick, broad head of his shaft probing the opening to her body and once more she tried to think clearly for a few seconds. He needed to know that this was new to her. He needed to know he should go slowly now.
    “Jonas, listen to me. I want to tell you something.”
    “You can tell me later,” he promised, and then he surged heavily into her.
    Verity lost her breath for a few frantic seconds. When she regained it she cried out a soft, wordless protest.
    She was totally unprepared for the size of him and the suddenness with which he had penetrated her. She was not naïve. She had thought she had a fairly good idea of what to expect when she made love for the first time. But this burning, stretched, invaded sensation was definitely not it.
    It was Jonas’s turn to freeze as Verity’s body clenched in protest around him and her nails dug angrily into his skin. “Verity?” he got out thickly. “Verity, what the hell is going on?”
    She had anticipated a feeling of fullness, perhaps a little initial discomfort until her body adjusted to the new experience. But this incredible, painful tightness was too much. Verity pushed at Jonas’s broad shoulders.
    “That’s enough,” she gasped. “Stop it, Jonas. Now.” She was accustomed to giving him orders and she expected to be obeyed.
    But Jonas didn’t move. His face was a mask of iron