When One's World is Shaken

Author: MoonStarDutchess

Prologue: Living a Dream

Disclaimer: I don't own FMA

AN: The overall plot idea came from a very special request I had from a reader that said a story like this would help them. To that reader: I hope that this story will do just that.

Warning: This contains a VERY Mature Adult Situation and the recovery of that situation. If you aren't mature enough to handle them (most of my readers are though) then you should click the little back button.

Prologue: Living a Dream

Riza stood at the stove cooking breakfast when she felt two strong arms wrap around her waist and a kiss being placed on her neck, then her shoulder. After a moment she felt those same lips at her ear and heard them whisper very pleasurable words to her.

"Good morning Mrs. Mustang," the dark velvety voice said. She smiled softly. She could hardly believe those words. She was Mrs. Riza Mustang, the wife of the person that she cared more about than anyone in this world. He was hers and she was his and it was like living in a dream that she never wanted to wake up from.

"Morning," she said, turning her head and letting her new husband place a kiss upon her lips. After he pulled away, she turned back to her cooking.

"It's too early to get up. We don't have to work for the next week Riza. Let's go back to bed."

"I can't sleep anymore today Roy," she said.

Roy nuzzled her neck and kissed it again, his hands trailing down her thighs and up under his shirt that she was wearing. "Who said anything about sleeping?" he said, causing Riza to laugh. She picked up a piece of sausage sitting on a plate and popped it into his mouth.

He frowned, chewed and swallowed the bit of food before his mouth returned to her neck to kiss and nip at it. She reached over, turned off the stove and put the eggs she was frying on a plate. After sitting them on a plate she felt Roy's hand go toward her center, then inside her.

"Roy, stop," she groaned and leaned her head back against his shoulder. She felt her knees turn to jelly, something only he was capable of accomplishing.

He bent down to kiss her shoulder for what seemed like the hundredth time. "Come back to bed Riza," he said lowly. Then she felt him pull his hand away from her body and withheld a groan over the loss of contact. He picked her up and carried her back into the bed room. After depositing her on the bed he bent his lips to cover hers. Between each kiss he whispered that he loved her and how much he wanted and needed her for the rest of his life.

Riza knew that those were much more than just sweet words. She knew that he meant ever syllable he uttered. She felt him lift the shirt she was wearing over her head and heard it hit the floor with a rustle after he threw it behind him. His lips came back to hers and he made love to her slowly and with such ardor that the normally stoic woman whimpered and cried aloud at every touch, every kiss and every move he made as he touched her skin and moved in and out of her body.

Afterward, as he held her close to his chest, his arms holding her there, she felt as if nothing and no one could touch her. And if they were to try, he would be there. She could protect herself and she would protect him but it was lovely to know that he cared enough to take care of her. She'd always longed to feel loved and protected and now she had that and nothing would take that away. . .