Dream of Me/Believe in Me

the sudden daring of his caress. She couldn't believe he would touch her there … and in that way. The intimacy of it shattered her even as pleasure mounted to unparalleled heights.
    He probed her lightly with his tongue, drawing out her most sensitive nub, and stroked her relentlessly as she twisted helplessly in his hands, her satiny skin covered with a dewy flush. Not satisfied with that, he delved farther, probed deeper, maddening her with his touch.
    His claiming of her body, so absolute and irrevocable, shocked her deeply. He left her no place to retreat, no way to deny him anything. She fought to do so, instinctively seeking to keep some part of herself intact, but still he pursued her.
    A harsh groan broke from him, relief mingling with victory, as he was rewarded with the nectar of her arousal. Swiftly, he moved up her trembling body, covering her mouth with his own. He kissed her deeply, repeatedly, his hands moving over her, spreading her thighs wide, positioning her for him.
    Cymbra felt the probing pressure, massively thick, steel hard. Instinctively, she tried to pull back, but he was holding her by the hips, preventing her from moving except by his will. She gazed up into his gleaming eyes and knew that he would wait no longer.
    “Hold on to me,” he ordered gutturally and released her just long enough to place her hands on his shoulders. The solidness of his strength was oddly comforting to her. She clung to him, left with no choice but to trust that he would not hurt her too much, as the pressure continued to build. A burning sensation filled her. She cried out but did not let go of him.
    Wolf's features were harshly contorted, his breath coming fast, as he fought to hold on to the last shreds of his control. His warrior's spirit screamed for relief.
    The exquisite anguish of restraint threatened to consume him as he forced himself to move slowly, entering her little by little, giving her at least some chance to adjust to his size. When he felt the barrier of her virginity, he gazed down into her eyes, pools of indigo wide with fearbut lit, too, by what he prayed was the dawning of fulfillment.
    “You are mine, Cymbra,” he said harshly. “Never forget it.”
    He took her mouth, swallowing her scream at the same time as he tore through her maidenhead. She struck out instinctively, her fists pounding against him, but he held her fast, waiting until the initial shock passed.
    “Easy,” he murmured, “easy … hush, love, it will be all right.” He kissed her tears away, whispering words of comfort, hardly knowing what he said, until he felt the slight relaxation of her body easing around him.
    Slowly, watching her intently, he moved within her but not thrusting, not yet. The hard, broad tip of him flexed, stroking a place within her she had never known existed, and the world came undone. After the initial pain, there was nothing except wave after wave of sensation, carrying her higher and higher, the crest seemingly endless.
    She cried out, her hips lifting even as her body tightened, drawing him even deeper within her. Wolf's harsh shout joined her own. The exquisite milking sensation undid him. He erupted within her in a hot, surging jet that seemed to go on forever.
    When the spasms of his release finally lessened, he was slumped against her, his lungs working like bellows, his body sweat-slicked, the smell of sex lingering in the air around them. Slowly, Wolf raised himself on his forearms. He stared down at his wife.
    Cymbra's eyes were closed, the thick lashes fanning against her delicately flushed cheeks. Her lips, slightly swollen from his impassioned kisses, curved in a small smile. She looked supremely … content.
    He groaned and flopped over onto his back, any further movement being impossible. Long moments passed before he was aware of much of anything save the utter satiationof his body. He looked at Cymbra curled at his side. The silken curtain of her hair alternately concealed and revealed her perfection, but hardly offered her much in the way of warmth.
    Lest she become chilled, he used what little strength had returned to pull the covers over them both. She murmured her thanks and snuggled closer to him. At the touch of her silken limbs, or perhaps it was the honeysuckle scent of her skin, or maybe the brush of her breast against his arm did it, or—Whatever the cause, his manhood stirred in instant response, tentatively but with obvious enthusiasm. Wolf groaned, torn