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Benedict continued to work her body as if he were a maestro and she a pianoforte. Harder and harder he pushed so that they slammed against the wall. Deeper and deeper, he stroked, and shivers of delight danced through her. Faster and faster his hips moved, and she clung to his shoulders, meeting him thrust for thrust.
Their eye contact never wavered. The emotions he allowed her to see both shocked and shattered her concentration, for there was no mistaking it. This man loved her. Those feelings couldn’t be faked nor conjured on a whim.
It was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.
Anne broke from reality with a startled cry that turned into a keening wail as she fell over the edge into bliss. More to the point, it was as if the heavens opened and swallowed her whole, surrounding her with an intense white light that poured every pleasure she could ever imagine into her being. She curled her fists into Benedict’s lapels as she found release. So great were the contractions that she shook from them, said his name like a litany, until he kissed her, and the sound ceased.
He thrust once more time, a great push that speared her to the wall before he claimed his own moment of satisfaction. The pleasure and wonder that skipped over his face as his member pulsed out its seed transfixed her. Oh, the man was gorgeous even in this, and the angelic vision of it stole her breath.
“I trust you’ll still have the strength needed to make that flight,” he whispered against her mouth. A tiny, smug laugh rumbled beneath the words.
“You and me both.” Unable and unwilling to let him go just yet, she kissed him back, eased her lips down the strong column of his throat to tease a spot above the knot of his cravat as she set her foot upon the floor. Her knees were decidedly wobbly, however, so she refused to relinquish her hold on him.
Amusement danced in his eyes. “Perhaps you should rest.” He guided her to a nearby chair and gently encouraged her to sit.
“This was a marvelous interlude.” Anne tugged her bodice into place. There was no need for him to do up the buttons; she’d change clothing anyway. “Just know that if something happens tonight and I’m unable to see you again, I—”
“Hush.” Benedict pressed two fingers to her lips, stemming the words. “You can tell me afterward, for you will complete that flight.”
Tears stung her eyes. His blind faith, despite the risks, buoyed her confidence and swept some of the doubts from her mind. “You’re right.” Then she waved a hand. “Leave me alone to gather my thoughts and to change into my aviator attire. Your mother was kind enough to let me have use of this parlor, so I didn’t need to walk over to the dower house.”
He nodded. “Do you, ah, wish for me to accompany you on this flight?” Fear and worry warred for dominance in his expression, but he’d asked anyway. “I’ll do it; you merely need to say the word.”
“No, you’ll be a distraction I can’t afford.” She clutched his hand, brought it to her lips before releasing him. “I appreciate the offer. You’re a noble—and vanishing—breed, Worthington. I’m growing all too used to you being around.”
A grin tugged at one corner of his lips. “Then I’ll follow on the ground with Augustus.”
“I’ll see you there.” Soon, she’d board the gondola of her balloon and it was anyone’s guess what would happen next. Worry formed in her belly as Benedict left the room. A fork had appeared in the road of her future. Which path to choose, and would she be happy picking one over the other?
