Stephen kissed her mouth, her neck, her shoulders. His penis was not hard then, but soft again as he rubbed it against her, warmly caressing the opening between her thighs. He tongued her nipples again, kissed each breast in turn, then moved his hands down to clutch her slender waist. Gently, he parted her legs again and kissed her between them. As he had loved her touching him there, she loved his kisses there.
Cupping Barbara's firm buttocks under her, Stephen raised them up to him as he lowered his now hardened manhood down onto her. She clutched her hands over his buttocks and marveled at their firm roundness as he played himself over her, not yet thrusting himself into her, in a final prelude to the moment they both had waited eagerly for.
When he thrust his erection into her, she rose to give herself to him. After long moments of his repeated penetration into her, at the moment they both poured the fluid of their passion into each other, Barbara cried out for the joy of his love for her, and hers for him.
The night passed without Barbara or Stephen having any sense of time as their lovemaking continued long after midnight, oblivious of the wind and rain outside. Never in her life had she ever dreamt the love or lovemaking of any man could be so wonderful. But the joy she felt inside her and believed he shared that night was, she came to realize, not just because of their mutual passion, but of the totality of their love for each other.
As they lay in each other's arms, Barbara felt finally not only loved, but protected. She knew without doubt that night that Stephen was the man she had longed for all her life. He embodied everything she had dreamt of in Ivanhoe and had loved in Paul Riordan. But Stephen also transcended even those ideals of manhood to her with his own physical beauty and personal goodness. Even more important was his deep love for her.
When sleep finally overcame Barbara, she slept without dreaming. She slept the sleep of the untroubled and the fulfilled, secure in the knowledge that she had at last found in Stephen Collier the love she had longed for all her life.
Stephen, however, did not sleep. Much as he craved it, he was determined to remain awake, to listen for any sound outside from Nazis or Soviets or anyone or anything that might end their night tragically.
He had given his love to Barbara. Now he would protect her with his life, so they could love again and for the rest of their lives. While she slept, Stephen held her close to him and kissed her cheek and stroked her hair, gently; whispering his love for her, so as not to wake her.