Phoebe arched against him, her embarrassment fading quickly beneath the impact of the urgent need she sensed in him.

His hand closed around her calf and then moved up along the length of her leg to her thigh. He did not untie her garters. Phoebe found it very odd to be wearing only her stockings.

She turned her face into his shoulder and slid curious fingers into the opening of his shirt. She touched the crisp hair there and was enthralled. Impulsively she put the tip of her tongue to his warm skin. Gabriel sucked in his breath.

"You taste good," she whispered.

He gave a soft, hoarse laugh that dissolved into a husky groan. He cupped her buttocks and squeezed gently. "I have been wanting you for weeks."

Phoebe felt the hard length of his manhood pressing against the fabric of his tight breeches. The proof of his desire filled her with a sense of womanly power. She was caught up in a golden, glittering illusion. But this was no dream, she reminded herself. This was real. "I've loved you for weeks."

His fingers slipped into the triangle of hair at the apex of her thighs, seeking out the plump, moist folds. Phoebe cried out softly when he tested her with his finger.

"Yes," Gabriel breathed. "Yes, my sweet." He withdrew his hand from between her legs. He shifted slightly away from her and shrugged impatiently out of his shirt.

Phoebe watched through half-lowered lashes as he yanked off his boots. Then he got to his feet to remove his breeches.

Phoebe stared at his fully aroused body. She had never seen a man in such a condition. Her mouth went dry and her eyes flew up to meet his.

Gabriel knelt beside her and pulled her to a sitting position. He held her close against his chest.

"Don't be afraid of me, Phoebe. Whatever happens, don't ever be afraid of me."

She wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly. "I'm not afraid of you."

"Trust me?"

"Yes. Always. Forever."

"I'm glad." He kissed the nape of her neck and then settled her back down on the carpet.

"It's just that I had not expected you to be quite so …»

"Quite so what?" he asked, nibbling at her throat.

"Quite so legendary in your proportions," she managed weakly.

Gabriel laughed. Phoebe felt herself turning a very bright shade of red.

"We shall spin ourselves a fine legend tonight, my sweet. One worthy of any medieval bard."

His mouth was like a warm drug on her skin. It soothed her, teased her, and then goaded her into a response. His hands moved over her, exploring her with a startling intimacy. Even though he was pressing her into the hard floor, she reveled in the weight of him as he sprawled across her.

Experimentally she stroked the contours of his strong back and then dug her fingers into the firm muscles of his hips. He was so strong, she thought, yet he shuddered every time she even grazed him with her fingertips.

Phoebe discovered she could not get enough of his response. No matter where she touched him, he reacted as if she had set fire to something deep inside him. His manhood pushed heavily against her inner thigh.

"I swear I cannot wait any longer." Gabriel's voice was thick with passion. "Open yourself for me, my sweet wife. I need to be inside you or I shall go mad."

She parted her trembling legs. He settled himself firmly between her thighs and eased himself upward until his shaft was pressing against her. Phoebe moved her head restlessly on the carpet as she realized just how large he was.

"Gabriel?"

"Wrap yourself around me, Phoebe." He put his hands under her knees and lifted them. Then he guided her legs into position. "Yes, like that. Now put your hands on my shoulders. Hold on tight, Phoebe. As tight as you can."

She clutched his sleek, powerful shoulders. She had never felt so vulnerable. But she loved him, she reminded herself, and she ached for this union as much as he did. They were as one in this passion, just as they were in their love of old medieval legends.

"That's it." Gabriel kissed her throat and pushed himself more insistently against her passage. "You're very tight, but you're also very wet. I don't know how stormy this first sailing will be, but you must trust me. All will be well."

"It's all right, Gabriel." She lifted herself tentatively against him. "I want you."

"I'm never going to get enough of you after this." He reached down, opened her with his fingers, and guided himself slowly into her snug channel.

Phoebe held her breath, not certain what to expect, but needing the feel of him inside her. She had to have him. Instinctively she tightened her legs around him.

"Phoebe, wait, I don't want to hurt you."

Gabriel's face was a stark mask of self-imposed restraint. But when Phoebe lifted her hips once more, something seemed to give way inside him. "Yes. Oh, God, yes." He surged into her in one powerful stroke.

Shock and surprise slammed through Phoebe. She was suddenly too full, too tight, too trapped beneath Gabriel's heavy weight. He was inside her.

She could not tell if there was any pain. She did not know what she was feeling. The sensation was literally indeseribable. She gave a soft exclamation and clutched Gabriel's shoulders.

Gabriel shuddered again. "Go ahead. Sink your little claws into me. God knows I have sunk myself so deeply into you I may never recover."

Phoebe swallowed quickly. "I think that is far enough," she said in a small voice. "Perhaps we should stop now."

"I could not stop now if the earth opened up and swallowed me alive." Gabriel eased himself partway out of her and then pushed slowly, relentlessly back into her. "You feel so incredibly good, my sweet. Nothing has ever felt this good."

Phoebe kept her legs wrapped around Gabriel's waist. The sensual spell she had been under earlier had been shattered. She was uncomfortable but not in any real pain. It was a very strange sensation having Gabriel inside her like this. He was obviously finding pleasure, however, and she loved him too much to deny him the satisfaction he sought.

"Hold me." Gabriel's voice was raw. "Hold me, Phoebe. I need you."

She tightened her arms around him, clinging to him, offering herself up to him until he suddenly gave a muffled shout and went absolutely rigid above her. The muscles of his back and buttocks were like steel beneath his skin as he pumped himself into her.

Then he collapsed along the length of her.

For a long while Phoebe lay quietly beneath Gabriel and listened as he recovered his breath. She stroked his back slowly and felt the dampness there. He was like a stallion after a hard race, she thought.

Her stallion.

After a while Gabriel groaned and eased himself reluctantly out of her. He rolled to one side, put his arm across his eyes, and gathered her against him.

"Next time it will be better for you, Phoebe. I promise."

"It was not bad this time," she said honestly. "Rather odd, but not bad."

He chuckled weakly. "Next time you will scream with pleasure. You have my oath on it. I shall make a quest out of the business and I shall not rest until I have successfully completed it."

Phoebe smiled and folded her arms on top of his damp chest. "I would never do anything so unladylike as to scream."

"Wait and see." He took his arm away from his eyes and threaded his fingers through her tangled hair. "The fire in your hair burns just as hot in the rest of you. You are an amazing creature, madam wife."

"Am I?"

"Most definitely." He closed his eyes again. "We shall rest for a few minutes and then we'll get dressed and go downstairs to my bedchamber."

"I like it up here," Phoebe said.

Gabriel did not open his eyes. "I have no intention of spending the rest of my wedding night on the floor of my study."

But he was asleep within a few seconds, his arm still locked around Phoebe.