Sweet Starfire

woman.” Severance’s voice was husky and textured against her mouth. “Cidra, I need a woman.”
    Cidra could feel that the tension in Severance was not abating. Rather, she realized that it was being channeled into the physical contact with her. His palm moved on her thigh, exploring the shape of her through the delicate fabric of her gown. She could feel the heat of Severance’s body reaching out to envelop her. His fingers tightened on her shoulder as he began lo probe her mouth with his tongue. She tasted the ale he had been drinking.
    Cidra resisted the intrusion, needing time to adjust to the whirl of new sensations. Severance groaned deep within his chest. His hand under her shoulders shifted, moving upward to capture her head and hold her still.
    “Just let me have what I need tonight. I’ve been going out of my mind. Should have known better. Too damned much thinking. Eats a man’s soul for breakfast.”
    The sense of compassion that made her climb out of the’ bunk and come to him washed over Cidra again in full force. Severance needed her. She had never really been needed by anyone in her entire life. Harmonics needed each other but not in this primitive, fundamental, physical manner. Human need in Clementia was on a higher plane, a matter of deep understanding, friendship, and intellectual communion. Cidra had never been able to offer the telepathic contact that enabled such need between two Harmonics to exist and be satisfied. But Severance was asking her to fulfill another kind of need. The concept was strange and infinitely compelling.
    Cidra’s hands were still braced against his shoulders. Instead of pushing away from him she began to relax. He felt the change in her and deepened the kiss. Without conscious thought her gilded nails flexed, sinking into the fabric of his shirt and then into the sleekly muscled skin underneath the shirt. When he groaned her name, she shivered again.
    She felt him tasting her, sampling her as if she were a new glass of Rose ale. He was moving inside her, touching her tongue with his own, and as she became accustomed to the odd caress, she found herself compelled to explore him in return. The desire was suddenly fierce, and she lifted her palms to frame his hard face. Cidra felt him suck in his breath, and she felt his body tremble with yet more tension.
    She probed cautiously, wonderingly. The unique intimacy was delicious but also vaguely alarming. His ready response was a lure she hadn’t expected, and it would have been difficult to deny even if she had been thinking of resisting it. She wanted this man to react to her, wanted him to respond with greater and greater need.
    His arm moved again, fingers gliding down along her side. She froze for an instant when he touched her breast.
    “It’s all right, Cidra. You feel so good. So soft and strong and delicate. I like the feel of you.”
    The pad of his thumb moved lazily over her nipple. The gossamer material of her robe offered only a slight barrier. The sensation was tantalizing, and her body reacted to it with a curious tightening. Cidra stirred, suddenly wanting to feel more of him. As if he could read her mind, Severance cupped her breast completely.
    As if he could read her mind. But, of course, he couldn’t. No more than she could read his. The sensation of emotion and mental closeness was an illusion. This wasn’t the physical extension of an intellectual and emotional communion. This wasn’t love the way it existed between Harmonics. This was Wolf sex.
    The stray thought cut through Cidra’s spinning mind, bringing a note of uneasiness into what had been until now a rising, focused crescendo of emotion. “No…”
    Severance must have felt the flash of uncertainty. He held her tighter, his hand on her breast becoming possessive instead of tantalizing. He broke the contact with her mouth to mutter urgently against her throat, “Be still, Cidra. Don’t panic, my sweet Harmonic. I’m not going to hurt you.”
    “I know.” And she did. The sense of certainty came from within herself. His hand moved gently, coaxingly, on her breast, and then his fingers were sliding inside the surplice, seeking a budding nipple. She was suddenly aware of the straining manhood beneath her thighs and inhaled sharply. Slowly he withdrew his hand from under her clothing and slipped his palm down across her stomach. His fingers rested warmly on her robe, just above the gentle mound.
    “I only want to hold you,