Chapter 10

            They were in a room that served as a dining and sitting area, with a simple stove at the center and a low table and cushions for seating.  After removing his robe from her shoulders, Ardeth gestured towards the rear of the tent with one hand, the other pressed against the small of her back.  Wordlessly, Jocelyn obeyed the guiding of his hand and continued walking.  There was another flap in this tent wall, and Ardeth pushed it aside to reveal the sleeping chamber of his home.  She looked around at the simply-appointed room as Ardeth lit an oil lamp and hung it from a stand to provide some light.  When she saw the bed, a large, mattress-like cushion laid on a rug, covered with pillows and draperies of beautiful fabric, the reality of the situation hit Jocelyn fully at last, and her knees gave way.

            Ardeth caught her instantly, peering into her face with great concern.  “Jocelyn?  Are you all right?  Was the sun too much for you?  Here, kalila, rest a moment.”  Lowering her to the bed, Ardeth disappeared.  In a few minutes, he returned with a cup of water.  He gave her the cup and sat down beside her, one arm protectively about her shoulders.  Joss held the water in both hands and raised it carefully to her lips.  It tasted wonderful and she drank it all, the cool liquid making her feel better.

            Brushing her hair back from her forehead, Ardeth watched her closely.  At last he spoke very quietly, his voice carefully neutral. “Do you not wish to be here with me, little one?  Are you perhaps afraid of me?  Of this?  You have only to speak the words and I will take you directly back to the city.”  Jocelyn gasped and shook her head, her eyes pleading as he continued:  “Know that I want you more than breath, sweet Jocelyn, but I would die before I would force myself on you.  If you have changed your mind, just tell me.  Please.”

            Setting the cup on the ground, Joss grasped his hand tightly in both of hers.  “No, Ardeth, no.  Please don’t take me back.  It’s just . . . I am afraid, but not of you.  I’m afraid you’ll . . . that you won’t like . . . ,” her voice became so quiet that even sitting as near to her as he was, Ardeth had to lean in to hear the next word:  “ . . . me.”  There, it was out.  She’d never intended to tell him, but his tender concern, his willingness to make that long ride once more without ever touching her had moved her deeply.  Plainly, this warrior was an honorable man, and a kind one.

            He laid his hand on her cheek, turning her face up to his.  She watched him studying her, seeking to understand why she felt this way.  Bending down, Ardeth removed his tall boots.  Then he rose from the bed and taking hold of her arms, drew her to her feet.  His eyes were fixed on hers, and in them burned a need so great that it would have frightened her had it not been matched by her own.   He unbuckled his sword belt and set aside his scimitar.  Next, he removed the leather bandoliers that crossed his chest, laying them near his sword.  Jocelyn’s chest was tight with anticipation as she watched, seeing him shed the trappings of his calling bit by bit, transforming himself into her lover.  Next went the turban, revealing the tattoos on his forehead.  He removed the amulet from around his neck and set it on a small table near the bed.  Ardeth untied the fastenings of his under tunic and pulled it off his shoulders, letting it drop to the ground.  He stood before her in nothing but the loose, black leggings of the Med-jai.

            Joss drew a sharp, involuntary breath: maybe this was a dream . . . could this man be real?  His beautiful head was supported by a strong neck that blended into broad, well-muscled shoulders and powerful arms.  Between those arms lay a wide, sculpted chest which tapered to a narrow waist and an impossibly flat stomach, the muscles clearly-defined beneath his smooth skin.  Across the expanse of his golden chest was another line of Med-jai tattoos.  She could imagine what the rest of him looked like, and her arousal was making her light-headed.  He stepped close to her, and her hands moved of their own accord to his shoulders, lightly tracing over the muscles and down to the tips of his fingers before gliding back up and onto his chest.  Ardeth’s breathing grew ragged and he tensed, willing himself to hold still as she explored him.

            Her eyes closed as she pressed the flat of her hands against his upper chest, marveling at the contrast between the smoothness of his skin and the hardness of his body, like satin on marble.  She slid her hands over him, across the flat, brown nipples that hardened at her touch; along ribs which shifted under her fingers with his hard, irregular breaths and down over his rippling stomach, made even tighter by his efforts to keep himself in check for fear of frightening her.  Jocelyn raised her eyes to his, and he thrilled to the hunger he saw in them.  Whatever this strange concern of hers might be, that he would not find her pleasing, he hoped her own desire heightened by his touch would overcome it.

            “Jocelyn.”  Ardeth’s voice was strained and tight, evidence of how close he was to the edge of his control.  “How can you doubt that you would please me?  By the gods . . . every nerve in my body is screaming for you, my blood is like molten silver in my veins!  For three nights, I cursed that dream for the pain it caused me . . . knowing you were there, at the edge of the bazaar, willing myself to ride to you but unable to do so.  And last night . . . reaching you last and seeing your lovely face, nearly having you in my arms . . . . Then you melted away and my cry of rage and despair shook the very earth beneath my feet.  Today, something told me it was time to ride out and find you, to take you for my own.  There you were —no dream, but a living, breathing woman—and my soul rejoiced within me.  Now you fear that I will not want you?  The desert does not yearn for rain as much as I yearn for you, my own.”

            Joss was dumbfounded . . . his dream matched hers!  “Ardeth . . . that was my dream, too!  I saw you and the other riders coming over that dune, just as you did today.  But for two nights, you rode away from me.  I screamed, I cried and pleaded for you to stop, but you rode on and the desolation was more bitter than death.  Last night, you came straight to me, but you, too, vanished before I could touch you . . . .  Today, I was in the bazaar from my dream . . . exactly as it was in my dream.  Everything happened just the same way, the crowd yelling and pointing and you and the other riders appearing at the crest of that dune . . . but this time, you didn’t disappear, you weren’t a dream . . . .”

            She was crying softly now, and Ardeth enfolded her in his embrace, his mouth seeking hers.  His lips stole her breath, her reason, her very soul.  Jocelyn melted against him, pressing her body to his and feeling the heat of his skin through the thin fabric of her tunic.  His arms held her tightly, almost too tightly to breathe, but she welcomed their crushing strength.  She whimpered, her lips parting, and Ardeth seized the tender invitation, slipping his tongue between them, opening her mouth to his.  Jocelyn wrapped her arms around his neck as Ardeth deepened the kiss, their tongues dueling, dancing, exploring.   His soft, insistent tongue took its pleasure from hers, teaching her what he needed in turn.  Never had she been kissed like this; she was in flames, wanting to disappear into his passion, to be burned alive.

            Ardeth’s mouth moved along her jaw, nipping and sucking gently at her skin until he reached her ear.  Jocelyn moaned as he pulled her earlobe into his mouth, running his tongue over it and suckling on the small, sensitive bit of flesh.  From there his intoxicating lips traveled down the side of her neck and back across to the hollow of her throat.  Her head dropped back, and she held on to his neck for dear life.  He was working some magic with his tongue and teeth that sent powerful shudders through her body.

            “Oh, Ardeth . . . that’s . . . wonderful . . . .” Joss moaned.

            “Do you still worry that you will not please me?”

            Jocelyn looked down, trying to avoid the intensity of Ardeth’s gaze but knowing she must answer him.  When she spoke, her voice quavered.  “I don’t doubt that you believe I will, but . . . you haven’t . . . seen me.”

            Bringing her face back to meet his eyes, Ardeth answered: “No, I have not, and I am unwilling to forego that pleasure a moment longer.”  She drew a quick breath as Ardeth began to undo the closures on her tunic.  He let his fingertips brush against her skin each time he opened another one, first at the top of her chest, then between the upper swell of her breasts, again just below her bra and once more above the waistband of her pants.  Each time he touched her, Jocelyn felt a stab of delight.  She watched as his long fingers undid her garment, fascinated by the tattoos on the back of each hand.  Once he had it completely opened, Ardeth slid his hands under the tunic at her shoulders, pushing it back and over her arms before drawing it down to her feet.  She took hold of his shoulders to balance as he lifted her feet out of the tunic, removing each shoe as he did so.

            Joss looked down into the eyes of the man who knelt before her and wondered that she did not burst into flames from their intensity.  Ardeth moved his hands to untie the drawstring of her pants and tugged at the waist to loosen it, causing the pants to drop lower on her hips.  He brushed his fingers lightly across her belly, up and down the sides of her waist and behind her to tease the small of her back.  His touch was so delicate that it was like a soft breath moving over her skin, igniting the nerves and making her shiver.  Very gently, Ardeth slid her pants off her body, setting them on top of her discarded tunic.  She stood before him in nothing but her bra and panties as he worshiped her with his eyes. 

            Rising from his knees, Ardeth touched the golden chain around her neck, allowing his fingers to trace along it to where the small scarab lay below the hollow of her throat.  He smiled at her, a smile heavy with passion, and then he raised both hands to undo the clasp at the back of her neck.  “This token is obviously precious to you, kalila.  Let us keep it safe.”  Ardeth set the necklace on the table with his amulet and stood once more in front of her.  His breathing was erratic and his eyes glowed like black stars.  He began to kiss her exposed flesh, murmuring in Arabic.  Although she could not understand the words, the sensual, liquid syllables were a caress in themselves, one which flowed inside her, making her very bones melt.  His soft, warm lips moved over her shoulders, the kisses followed by gentle nips.  He continued to her chest, dipping lower to tease the swell of her breasts with his tongue.  Jocelyn whimpered at the sensation, clinging to his arms to keep her feet under her. 

            Ardeth’s hands were everywhere, sliding over her body.  These were not the delicate touches of a few moments ago–now his hands were hard, demanding.  Joss felt a slight, delicious shiver of fear go through her: this was large, powerful man, a trained fighter at the peak of his physical prowess . . . once he abandoned the tight control he had on himself, what would he do to her?  What would it be like in his bed?  Jocelyn knew she no longer had a choice: she needed this man in a way she hadn’t realized was possible.  Needed to feel him wrapped around her, buried inside her.  She wanted to feel his body moving against hers, to hear him grunt with pleasure as he plundered her, claimed her, found his satisfaction in her flesh.

            Stepping toward the bed, Ardeth swept back the covers before wrapping his arms around Jocelyn and pulling them both onto the soft surface.  He rolled over until she lay beneath him, showering her face with soft kisses.  One heavy thigh pressed between hers, and the intimacy of the gesture electrified her.  Joss sank her hands into the dark waves of his hair, catching his mouth with hers and kissing him deeply.  Ardeth laughed, a low rumble deep in his chest, and seized control of the kiss, covering her body with his as he explored her mouth thoroughly.   Gazing down at her, his face so close to hers, the light of deep satisfaction in his eyes was easy to see.  The heat of his body on hers and the male scent of him was driving her mad, and she could clearly feel the hardness of his ready manhood pressing into her belly through his pants.

            “Mine,” breathed Ardeth as he looked at her.  “You are mine, now, Jocelyn.  Tonight I will possess you fully.  We will fly together, my love . . . fly to the heights of the heavens, without ever leaving this tent.”

             Holding himself up on one elbow, he slipped his free hand under her back. Ardeth unhooked her bra and pulled it away from her body, dropping it beside the bed.  Her nipples were hard, the rose-colored flesh surrounding them puckered.  Ardeth looked at her, one eyebrow raised.  “You feel the fire, too, little one, eh?  You may doubt that you are desirable, but your body is calling to mine, nonetheless!” 

            Slowly, he trailed the backs of his fingers up her stomach and between her breasts, enjoying the way it made her tremble.  How could she believe any man would not find delight with her?   Ardeth had heard of the strange tastes of Western men who wanted only young women, as thin as boys.  It made no sense to him.  A wise man knew that an older woman understood lovemaking far better, knew more about pleasing a man and was more comfortable in doing so.  And who would choose hard ribs and pointed hip bones over the soft, willing flesh he now caressed?  There was a spark of anger in Ardeth, anger that such attitudes could make a treasure like Jocelyn feel less of a woman.  He was determined to change that.  “Give me a few days, my own,” he thought, “and you will be transformed!”

            Ardeth drew his fingertips over the swell of one breast until they reached her nipple.  Jocelyn gasped as he started to touch the swollen nub, circling one finger over its tip, tugging, pressing, gently pinching.  Her back arched, seeking more from those tantalizing fingers.  Dipping his head, Ardeth laved the now-aching nipple with his tongue, making Joss writhe beneath him.  He used small, tormenting licks to increase her need.  Just when she thought she’d scream if he didn’t stop the teasing, Jocelyn felt the peak of her breast sucked into Ardeth’s hot mouth.  Crying out, she clutched at his shoulders, pushing her body tightly against his.  She was going to go mad, she knew it.  No woman could stand this level of arousal, and he’d only started!  

            Ardeth grunted with pleasure as he licked and suckled her breast.  Sometimes he held the nipple between his teeth and flicked his tongue over it or engulfed most of the soft mound in his mouth.  Meanwhile, his hand had moved to her other breast, where his skilled fingers were working the tip to even greater hardness.  He shifted his mouth to that breast, and as the air hit the wet nipple of the first, the cool sensation sent a shock of pleasure through Joss.  Her head tossed to and fro and soft, mewling sounds came from her mouth.  The heat inside her was growing steadily, and her center ached with the unrelieved tension.  Instinctively, she thrust her mound against the strong thigh that was pressed to it.

            He moved down her body, kissing and licking his way across her stomach, leaving a trail of pleasure over her skin.  He progressed slowly, savoring every inch of her, taking time to give the small attentions he knew would make her burn even hotter: a long, slow lick across the underside of a breast, a quick bite on the sensitive flesh of her side.  When he reached her navel, Ardeth circled his tongue around it before working the tip into the small cavity.  Jocelyn’s hands slipped once more into his hair, as she murmured to him: “Oh, yes, please . . . more, Ardeth, more!  Everywhere, my love, everywhere . . . kiss me everywhere!”  Raising his head, he looked at her, his eyes burning.

            “May I, Jocelyn?” he whispered.  There was power in that whisper, the power of a man who knows he is in control and who intends to use that control to its fullest.  “May I kiss you ‘everywhere’?  Will you allow me to taste you . . . fully?”

            She looked at him, barely able to focus through the haze of arousal.  Stephen had rarely pleasured her orally.  Even though she’d made it clear she enjoyed it, he was never very comfortable with the act.  Finally, she’d stopped dropping even the most delicate hints when she understood that Stephen just couldn’t bring himself to touch her that way.  Now, at the realization of what Ardeth’s gifted tongue could do when unleashed on her throbbing cleft, Jocelyn thought she might faint.  “Yes, oh . . . please . . . please!  Whatever you want, Ardeth . . . do whatever you want . . . . “

            If she’d believed she’d seen erotic smiles on Ardeth’s face before, they were nothing compared to the expression that met her eyes when he heard his lover grant him the complete freedom of her body.  Ardeth shifted himself off of her and stood beside the bed.  Jocelyn reveled in the sight of him: the caramel skin covering his breathtaking form, the deep brown eyes, that magnificent mouth.  His dark hair was tangled into wild waves, a few strands stuck to his forehead from the sweat that was rising on him.   He was so beautiful, so strong and proud . . . and he wanted her!  Her!  Then she realized that he was slowly undoing his pants, and for a moment she was unable to breathe.  His erection had felt sizeable against her stomach; she was a little afraid of what she was going to see.  It had been over three years since Stephen’s death, and she’d been with no one since–had wanted no one since.  “I don’t care!” she told herself.  “I don’t care if he splits me in two, if I can’t walk tomorrow, I don’t care!  I want this . . . I want him!”

            Leaning over, Ardeth pulled her gently to a sitting position and then placed her hands at his waist.  His intent was clear–he wanted her to remove his leggings.  Swallowing hard, Jocelyn loosened the unfastened pants until she was able to start sliding them off his hips.  The dark fabric barely contained his eager erection, and before she had the pants halfway down his hips, it sprang free.  Jocelyn gasped.  He was going to split her in two!  His shaft was thicker than her wrist and of proportionate length.  It seemed to strain towards her seeking its blissful goal, dark from the blood that engorged it.  She finished removing the leggings, her eyes often returning to the nest of dark hair and the manhood that jutted from it.

            Ardeth cupped her face in his hands, tilting it up until their eyes met.  “You see how you affect me, my love?  Is this the response of a man who finds the woman before him . . . undesirable?”   Jocelyn shook her head.  He caressed her face lovingly, drawing the backs up his fingers across her cheeks, brushing his fingertips over her forehead, nose and mouth.  Then, bending low, he kissed her softly four times: on the forehead, once on each cheek and on her mouth.  “Look at me, Jocelyn.”  Slowly, she focused enough to open her eyes.  “Does it alarm you . . . to see me completely?”

            “No,” she said, barely able to speak.  “But I . . . you are . . . .”

            Sitting next to her on the bed, Ardeth drew her close, kissing her hair.  “How long has it been?”

            “Over three years,” she breathed.

            Ardeth kissed her again, this time on her temple.  Then his warm lips continued on, moving down the side of her throat to the arousing spot where neck meets shoulder.  He felt her relax in his arms, heard her breathing quicken again.  Ardeth smiled against her skin before biting her lightly on the shoulder and lowering her to the bed.  “I would never hurt you, little one.  You know that, eh?”  Jocelyn smiled and nodded, reaching up to run her hands over his splendid chest, loving the feel of his body.

            “I will be gentle, kalila.  Do not fear my size.  By the time that moment comes, you will be more than ready to receive me, I promise you!”

            Ardeth moved to the center of the bed, pulling her with him as he did so.  He placed several pillows beneath her upper body, and Jocelyn lay back with a sigh.  Ardeth grasped the top of her panties and slid them off her body.  Reaching over, slipped his hands between her thighs and parted them, kneeling within their silken enclosure.   Then Ardeth lay atop her once more, and her hands moved over him, memorizing the feel of his body.  As he kissed her with deep, mind-drugging kisses, Joss worked her hands across the powerful shoulders and down his back, delighting as the muscles rippled under his skin.  She teased at his lower back, and then moved still further down, cupping the firm cheeks of his ass in her hands.  Ardeth moaned at her touch and latched onto her nipple, sucking hard, biting at it.  Jocelyn gasped and began kneading his buttocks, sliding her hands down to tease at the sensitive skin where his ass met his thighs.

            With a groan, he continued his own journey, leaving her breast to work his lips across her stomach.  Sitting back on his heels, he pressed slow, hot kisses over her belly while his fingers ran delicately along the exquisitely responsive skin in the hollows of her thighs.  Jocelyn had given a small cry of disappointment when he sat back and she could no longer reach his body, but his attentions soon replaced that disappointment with pure delight.  Ardeth’s hands were trailing over the insides of her thighs, making her shudder at the sensations that filled her.  The delicious tension inside her was growing steadily; there was a tightening in her core that she knew only he could set loose. 

            The heat between her thighs was now intense, like a lava flow beneath her hot skin which sent out tendrils that ran up through her body and out into her limbs.  She felt heavy, liquid and completely, willingly, at Ardeth’s mercy.  His fingers were at her center, playing in her wet curls.  Jocelyn realized, with a last flicker of clear thought, that Ardeth had not arranged those pillows under her back and shoulders just for her comfort.  Raised up slightly as she was, she’d have a clear view of her lover as he pleasured her and the thought of what she was about to see made her whimper helplessly.

            She felt his fingers move to her cleft, gently separating her swollen folds.  He ran his fingertips along her outer lips, spreading her more fully.  Then he touched the more sensitive, inner folds, and Jocelyn bucked her hips at the contact.  “Easy, my love, easy,” he whispered, running a hand over her hip and holding her to the bed.  “You will have your pleasure.  But the tighter I wind you up, the higher you will fly, eh?”  She clutched at the pillows and bed coverings, a soft, keening coming continually from her lips, desperate for him to reach the swollen nub that awaited his caresses. 

            Ardeth moved one finger, sliding it across her wet inner folds until he reached that very spot.  He began rubbing his finger against it in slow circles, relishing the moans he elicited from his woman.  After stimulating her this way for a bit, he shifted his touch, moving behind the hood of the throbbing nub to take hold of the small, hard shaft under the skin.  Rolling it delicately between his thumb and forefinger, Ardeth sent powerful waves of pleasure through Jocelyn’s body.  With a soft cry, she brought her knees up and out, opening herself completely to her lover.

            Ardeth drew a shuddering breath at the sight before him.  Not many hours ago, he had loved and desired a phantom from his dream . . . now that woman was here, writhing naked on his bed as he fondled her sex.  He ached from the need to thrust himself inside her, to feel their bodies join, to pound into her until they both reached their release.  But not yet, not yet.  Her body was ready for him, certainly–her juices soaked her curls and cleft.  But, Ardeth was determined that Jocelyn would feel no pain from this coupling, and if it had been more than three years since she had been with a man, he wanted her at the brink of her climax before he penetrated her. 

            “I believe, my love, that you invited me to kiss you everywhere, yes?” he whispered, his rich voice pitched even lower by passion.

            Jocelyn looked at him through soft, unfocused eyes, panting and whimpering.  “Yes,” she finally managed, her voice catching.

            “Then it is time to drink of your sweetness, and for you to know what it feels like to have your body worshiped by a lover.”

            Moving onto his stomach, Ardeth stopped with his face was directly over Jocelyn’s center.  He watched her just long enough to make certain she was going to keep her eyes open, knowing it would heighten the erotic effect for her.  Then, he carefully spread her open with his fingers.  He inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of her arousal, before lightly running the tip of his tongue along the inner lips.  She sighed with ecstasy, gripping the pillows under her head.  Ardeth continued to bathe her folds with his tongue, using the flat and the tip to tease the maximum pleasure from her body.  He slipped his tongue into her molten center and felt it tighten, seeking relief from this small penetration.  Chuckling deeply, he withdrew his tongue and returned to stroking it over her inner lips. 

            When her sounds and the movements of her body told Ardeth that Joss couldn’t bear much more torment, Ardeth shifted his attentions to the fleshy pearl that crowned her cleft.  Running the point of his tongue over the hot, swollen nub, he was rewarded by a deep, passionate groan from his beloved.  Jocelyn twisted on the bed, and he had to grasp her hips firmly to keep her in place.  Her hands reached for him, twining themselves into his hair.  He worked his way thoroughly over the rigid nub, licking and tantalizing it with his tongue.  Just when Joss thought she’d reached the height of sexual sensation, Ardeth took the small head between his hot lips, pulling at it with a pulsing suction that sent her to the border of sanity.

            Jocelyn was on fire, from the tips of her fingers to the soles of her feet.  It was a living fire that coiled through her body like a snake, igniting nerves she didn’t know she had.  Under Ardeth’s skillful touch, the erotic ministrations of his lips and tongue and hands, her body had come alive.  Had she ever felt desire before?  Had a man ever touched her before?  No . . . not like this.  Not in the knowing, intense way that Ardeth touched her, as though he were inside her skin, feeling what she felt, sensing instinctively what she needed from him and giving it to her with tenderness and passion.  She felt herself opening up from the very center of her soul, flowering like a rare plant under the empowering effect of Ardeth’s desire.

            Never had Joss felt such arousal, such complete sexual abandon.  Every new place he touched her, every kiss, every caress of his tongue was driving her need higher.  She was becoming a creature of pure sensation, given over to physical pleasure, wanting nothing but the completion of this act.  Jocelyn no longer thought or reasoned or chose . . . she responded by primal instinct, like an animal in heat.  Moaning, gasping, panting, whimpering, she thrust her cleft against Ardeth’s face, begging him with her body to give her relief, to end the sweet agony and release the unbearable tension in her body.

            “Ardeth!” she gasped, looking at him with pleading eyes.  “Please . . . no more . . . I need you, Ardeth, now . . . please!”

            He knew, then, that she was truly ready.  Moving closer to her, he slid his hands up her thighs to the back of her knees, pushing her legs wide apart.  Taking his rigid, throbbing shaft in one hand, he spread her open with the other, and carefully positioned himself at her opening. After wrapping his hands around her waist to hold her steady, he pushed into her with one long, slow thrust.  He felt her body part to admit his, her channel hot and wet and swollen, accepting him fully.  Jocelyn cried out, the deep, guttural sound of physical pleasure made audible.  Ardeth fought for control, sweat trickling down his face and chest.  He wanted to drive into her, craved a hard, wild mating, but he would not let himself do that.  Not this time. 

            “Ardeth,” she whimpered.  “Oh, yes . . . yes, my love.  More!  Please!”

            Sliding his arms under her back, Ardeth cupped his hands up over her shoulders and rested his weight on his elbows.  He began to move inside her, slow, short strokes at first, letting her body adjust to his.  Jocelyn responded, falling into his rhythm, her hands digging into his back.  She felt his length spearing her, his girth spreading her.  Waves of pleasure crashed through her, radiating up from where his hard length rubbed against the hot ache inside her and spreading throughout her body.  Her head pounded, she gasped and shuddered in his arms.  The tightness in her belly was like a coiled steel spring, and she feared that when it snapped loose, it would shatter her utterly.  But that concern was nothing compared to the thought of it not happening, of not feeling the climax that Ardeth was drawing from her flesh.

            Unable to hold back another moment, Ardeth began to thrust with more power and speed.  Joss matched his strokes, moaning constantly.  Her face was flushed and sweaty, her eyes closed, her mouth slack.  Ardeth watched her and saw the expressions move over her face that spoke of pleasure so intense it hurt.  He felt her nails in his back and the mix of pain and pleasure spurred him on, driving himself into her, seeking that moment of ultimate delight for both of them.  Then she squeezed her channel against his shaft, and his control snapped.  With a roar, Ardeth raised up on his knees and took hold of her hips.  Tightening his buttocks and thighs for greater strength, he began to pound into her, feeling himself swell and harden even more inside of her.

            Jocelyn cried out, her eyes flying open.  She began to mumble incoherently, her head thrashing back and forth on the pillows, her hands frantically clutching at the bed to anchor herself.  She fixed her eyes on Ardeth’s; they were half-closed, dark with passion and alive with desire.  Joss pushed her hips against his, rising to meet him as he rode her, trying to keep pace with the pistoning of his body.  The tightness in her body was unbearable, every muscle was tense, hard . . . waiting.

            Ardeth knew he could not hold back for long . . . his body was desperate for release.  He shifted Jocelyn’s hips slightly to change the angle of his body in hers as he thrust even harder, and then he felt it: for an instant, she froze, her legs drawn up, arms rigid, hands gripping the bed so tightly her knuckles were white . . . and then she screamed his name, her body began to shake and he felt the hard, rhythmic contractions of her center against his shaft.  One more stroke, and Ardeth reached his own climax, crying out in joyous ecstasy, grinding his hips against hers as his seed shot into her in great, hot pulses . . . .

            Jocelyn lay spent and sated beneath him as he pushed into her with his final, gentle strokes.  Ardeth, his chest heaving, looked down at her.  She was sweaty, her hair was stuck to her forehead and temples, her neck and breasts bore the marks he’d given her, she was gasping . . . and she was so beautiful he could barely believe it.  He leaned forward and kissed her lips softly, lingeringly.

            Her eyes opened, and the warm, loving smile in them filled him with joy.  She raised shaking hands to push back his hair and then slowly traced over his features as though memorizing them with her fingers.  She shuddered occasionally, but Ardeth knew that was only the aftershocks that sometimes happen after a very powerful orgasm.  Rolling onto his back, he drew her close, tucking her against his chest with his arms wrapped around her.  Pulling some covers from the floor beside the bed, Ardeth spread them over the two of them and held her close.  Desert nights were cold, and after the exertion, he didn’t want her to be chilled.

            “Are you . . . all right, Jocelyn?” he asked, softly.

            Her drowsy voice was like music to his ears.  “‘All right,’” she said, “is a weak, pitiful understatement for what I am right now.”  Her eyes met his, and he saw that she was telling him the truth. There was no anxiety or unhappiness in her gaze–only love, contentment and peace.  His heart swelled within him, and he knew that he loved this woman beyond all reason.  How she had come to him, the mystery of their common dream, would be something to talk about later.  For now, it was time to rest, to savor being wrapped in one another’s arms.

            Jocelyn sighed and snuggled closer to his comforting strength.  She had no idea what was going to happen . . . she didn’t even really understand what had already happened.  But she didn’t care.  She wasn’t losing her mind; her Med-jai warrior was real, she had seen him, touched him, talked to him, given herself to him completely.  No, she had not lost her mind . . . only her heart.

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A Dream Realized – Chapter 11 (coming soon)