Her gaze hardened. “I am certain there are those who would laud Monsieur Cartland as well.”
“Cartland is a lying murderer!”
“So you say. But did he not once work for you? Do you not have a grievance against him for revealing your traitorous activities in France? You have motive to want him dead, which leaves anything you say against him suspect.”
Cursing under his breath, Simon plopped back onto the pillow and yanked up the counterpane.
“Are you going to sleep now?” she asked.
“Yes!”
His response was a frustrated growl.
Chapter 10
Amelia shivered as her bare back touched the cool counterpane and Montoya’s warmth left her. If she kept her gaze trained downward, she could see a tiny sliver of the room and the glow of the fire in the grate. But she did not want to see, so she squeezed her lids shut.
In her mind’s eye, she pictured Montoya as a rather exotic-looking man. Strong, handsome, and rather severe. The desire she felt to lighten his burdens and bring him some comfort was a goading force. She wanted to hear him laugh and press kisses to the dimples she saw far too rarely.
Suddenly, an image of Colin burst forth in all its glory, vivid and powerful. She stiffened in surprise.
“What is it?” Montoya murmured, the cessation of sound telling her that he had stopped undressing.
Inhaling sharply, Amelia brought her thoughts back to the present. Perhaps it was to be expected that she would think fondly of her first love at this moment, the one where she embarked on a similar journey with another. She lacked the experience to know.
“I am cold without you,” she lied, holding her arms out to him.
“In a moment, you will be hot and damp,” he purred, the bed dipping as he joined her atop it.
She felt the warmth of him along her side and then the gentle press of his firm lips to her shoulder. His hand drifted along the length of her, following the slight curves and valleys of her figure.
“I fear I am dreaming,” he said softly. “I am afraid to blink in case I open my eyes and find you gone.”
Amelia’s hand came to rest on the flat plane of her belly just below her navel. “I feel flutters here,” she confessed.
His hand covered hers and squeezed gently. “I will be there soon. Deep inside you.” His fingertips tiptoed across her skin and touched the curls between her legs.
It tickled, making her laugh. When he pressed his lips to hers, she felt his returning smile. “I love you,” he breathed before taking her mouth.
Her heart stopped, delaying her reaction to the deepening intrusion of his fingers. A callused fingertip parted her and her thighs squeezed together instinctively.
Gasping, Amelia turned her head away, the reaction to those whispered words hitting her with stunning force. She had never thought to hear those words again, not from the lips of a lover. Tears welled, burning her eyes.
“Open your legs,” he urged, kissing her throat. “Allow me to pleasure you.”
She began to quiver, the assault to both her senses and her heart rattling her to the core. “Reynaldo…”
“No.” He came over her then, kissing her hard. “Call me anything but that. Lover or darling-”
“…sweetheart…”
“Yes…” His tongue thrust deep, caressing hers, making her moan into his mouth. “Open,” he said ardently. “Let me see you…touch you…”
Unable to deny him when he spoke with such passion, Amelia spread her legs and then arched upward as he stroked against the tender, throbbing point that begged for his attention.
“Oh!”
Montoya’s kisses became more luxurious as he continued to fondle her with devastating skill. His callused fingertips rubbed her slick, aching sex in time to the rhythmic plunges of his tongue.
Awash in pleasure, yet struggling against the building tension that strained her body, she writhed and clutched at him. Beneath her grip his forearm muscles flexed with his movements, increasing her erotic awareness of how intimately he touched her.
Then one finger dipped lower, circling the clenching opening to her sex.
“How slick you are,” he breathed reverently. “How greedily you suck at my fingertip.” To prove his point, he pushed in the tiniest bit. Amelia cried out as her body spasmed around the gentle invasion.
“Dear God, you are so tight and hot,” he praised gruffly. “You will kill me when I push inside you.”
Amelia reached for his cock, wondering how she would accommodate him. He was so thick and hard. Her untried body was burning from the press of one finger.
Montoya groaned when she wrapped her hand around him. He was slick, too. With need and desire for her.
“You are ready to come,” he said. “Feel how hard your clitoris is?” The pad of his thumb pressed lightly against the swollen protrusion and circled. In response, her body tightened around the single finger slowly easing into it.
She whimpered as he stepped up the pace, his finger thrusting in and out, deeper and deeper. His expert manipulation of her clitoris caused her skin to dampen with sweat and her breasts to ache. Desperate mewling poured from her throat, and she clung to him, trying to bring him closer.
“Tell me what you need,” he whispered, his lips to her ear. “Tell me how to please you.”
“My nipples…”
“They are beautiful. Puckered so wantonly. Eager to be sucked.”
“Yes!” Amelia arched upward in blatant invitation.
“Say it, my love.” His finger pushed deeper and touched her maidenhead. “Say what you want.”
“I want…”
“Yes?” He continued to rub inside her.
“I want your mouth on my breasts.”
“Umm…with pleasure,” he purred.
She gasped when he obliged, the burning heat searing her tender flesh. Tension gripped her limbs, tightening with every tug of his lips, every thrust of his finger, every circle of his thumb.
The climax stole her breath when it hit. Her body went rigid, her heart slammed against her ribs, her blood rushed through her ears.
And deep inside her, at the extremity of her orgasm, Montoya broke through the barrier between them. Amidst the onslaught of sensation, the loss of her virginity was barely noticed, and the tear that leaked from the corner of her eye was not from pain, but pleasure so intense she could hardly bear it.
As awareness returned after the rush, she heard his hoarsely voiced endearments and praise. Her first thought was of how grateful she was to share the sexual act with a man who felt such passion for her and inspired a returning desire for him. What might have been an act of duty was instead a joy.
There were a hundred emotions warring for dominance within her, all struggling to be freed through words. But her throat was too tight to release them.
Instead, she wrapped her arms around him and held him to her breast.
Colin listened to the sound of Amelia’s heart slowing and knew he had never loved her more. She was a goddess in her passion, a creature of lust and longing, her beautiful body flushed and glistening. Earthy. Wild and hot, as she had longed to be. Built for sex.
With him.
No other man could unlock her. She said she felt nothing when he was gone. She felt alive when he was near. Warm and soft, wet and willing. Eager to be touched.
“That was”-she gave a soft, breathy sigh-“wonderful.”
He rubbed his face against her breast and laughed, his heart filled with joy. He, too, felt reawakened after
