Dream of Me/Believe in Me

irritated than hurt. Then he laughed and drew her to him. His big hand lightly rubbed the offended portion of her anatomy through her gown.
    “You should take more care,” he said. An imp of mischief prompted him to add, “I prefer that my property not be damaged.”
    “I didn't damage the chest. It just slipped out—” Abruptly, she realized what he meant and her eyes flared. “Property, Wolf? Are you sure you want to claim that when I'm not even wearing your—what did Dragon call it—your mark?”
    He laughed and held her against him despite her attempt to resist. “Do you wear nothing at all, I claim you. Indeed, especially then.”
    This deliberate provocation earned him a glare but he was well pleased by it. Dragon wasn't the only one who found his wife teasable. Wolf did, too, and he was in a much better position to take advantage of it.
    Her cheeks were flushed and she was glaring at him so fiercely that it was all he could do not to laugh again.
    Instead, he tipped her back against his encircling arm and took her mouth. For just a moment, she resisted but quickly enough her lips parted to admit the thrust of his tongue. He went slower then, stroking and savoring her until she gave a little moan of frustration and began tugging him toward the bed.
    They had lain there entwined, in the soft hours of the morning, making the most of what little time they had before the preparations for the feast drew them apart once more. Now Wolf had thought to say his farewells quickly but that plan was gone from his mind as though it had never been. Yet he realized full well that the hunt was already assembling—men, horses, and dogs waiting—with every available hour needed for their task.
    But he had other, more personal needs, and if his wife's urgent efforts to get them both to the bed were any indication, so did she. Abruptly, he made up his mind. He bunched her skirts in his hand and pulled them above her hips. She gave a little gasp as he touched her intimately but that was drowned out by his groan of pleasure at finding her already sweetly pliant.
    Moving quickly, mindful of each fleeting moment, he maneuvered her to the bed, turning her and gently but firmly urging her down on her knees on the mattress. She stiffened a little in surprise but he soothed her with a touch.
    “Easy,” he murmured huskily. “You'll enjoy this, I promise.” Pulling her gown out of the way, he bared her lovely bottom. Moving behind her, he freed himself quickly.
    “Spread your legs a little more, love.”
    When she complied, he bent his long, powerful body over the graceful curve of her back and moved carefully between her thighs, rubbing her lightly, letting her adjust to him. Her hips swayed, pressing back against him. Heslipped one hand around to her front, stroking and kneading her, and heard her cry out softly. Only then, with the hot drumbeat of passion surging through his veins, did he thrust into her hot, slick sheath. She gave a little sob of pure relief and tightened around him. He reared back, seizing her hips between his hands, and held her fast as he plunged into her again and again. As he felt her begin to quiver around him, he leaned forward again, laying his mouth against the softly vulnerable spot between her neck and shoulder. Without warning, he let her feel his teeth.
    She climaxed with a scream, her pleasure going on and on, drawing him with it as the seed of life poured from his loins. His heart hammered against his ribs, his lungs labored like bellows. So intense was his release that he collapsed over her, carrying them both down onto the bed.
    Long moments later, the Norse Wolf revived enough to remember that his men were waiting. With a groan, he adjusted his clothing and levered himself off the bed. Cymbra lay on her side, her flanks gleaming softly white in the light filtering through the shutters, a smile curving her luscious mouth. She was deeply asleep.
    Reminding himself that he was the strong, indomitable male, the Scourge of the Saxons stumbled back out into the day. Breathing deeply, he took a few moments to steady himself before joining the several dozen men mounted and waiting by the gates.
    Dragon was holding his horse for him. As Wolf swung up into the saddle, his brother grinned. “That was certainly quick.” The words had just penetrated his dazed state and Wolf was just turning his head to react to them when Dragon added, “Very wise to make no long farewells, brother.” He smiled