Cheyenne Captive (12 page)

Read Cheyenne Captive Online

Authors: Georgina Gentry - Iron Knife's Family 01 - Cheyenne Captive

BOOK: Cheyenne Captive
8.45Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

She protested at the idea. “You shouldn’t . . . really shouldn’t . . .”

But his fingers stroked in a manner that excited her in a way she had never felt and she couldn’t bring herself to try to make him stop.

As if she could,
she thought, half-opening her eyes to study the lithe, bronze naked body of the man who touched her. She was a small plaything in his big arms. No, she was queen and he was a slave, commanded to amuse and satisfy her on threat of death.

The fire crackled and the rain beat down outside, but they were safe in their own little world of love.

She felt his fingers stroking her silken insides and she knew she should make him stop but she found her body responding to his light touch. Her thighs spread themselves, her body arching up for the caress of his hand.

Her nipples hardened with desire and his free hand came up to stroke her full breasts as his other hand touched deeper and deeper.

It was a world of touch sensation,
she thought with a sigh as she breathed deeper, her body tightening with tension as his hands and mouth loved her. His lips were everywhere as he had promised, sucking, kissing, caressing.

His lips were on her ear. “Now, you stroke me, Summer, caress me as I have loved you.”

She felt her face burn at the thought but she did as she was commanded, running her hands over his hard lean body, across his flat belly.

He caught her hand, moved it to his chest. “You know where I want you to touch me,” he murmured.

His nipples grew hard under her fingertips as she touched, bent her mouth to kiss them.

She heard the sudden intake of his breath, felt the tension of his big body. His hand caught hers again, bringing it down between his legs. “Touch me, Summer,” he commanded. “Make me want you more.”

Her hand held his manhood. It was hard and throbbing in her grasp as she stroked him rhythmically. His fingers went deep inside her, stroking her velvet wetness. His mouth nibbled her breasts and she arched herself, urging him to nip her swollen nipples with his teeth.

She was caught up in a frenzy of desire, wanting him to take her breasts deep in his mouth, suck them and delight them with his tongue. Summer felt the virile seed of the man seeping on her hand as he slowly spread her thighs.

She looked up at him with half-closed eyes, gasping with her need as she reached up to him.

“I love you,” he whispered as he came to her and took her in his arms.

She accepted him deep within herself and moaned aloud as she felt him hard and throbbing with life at the very core of her being.

He made love to her very gently, his hands stroking her long hair, his lips soft on her face, her eyelids.

She reached up to embrace his strong body, feeling the muscles bunch under her feathery touch. The power and the size of the man still astounded her and the wonder of it was the way he responded to her desires, eager to please her.

She whimpered and tensed and his breath brushed her ear. “Not yet!” he commanded. “Not yet, Little One! Make it last and last . . .”

She tried to obey him but could not. Her body had a mind of its own, trembling with desire and eagerness. She fought to hold back as he commanded, but every nerve fiber seemed to be on fire, her senses reacting to his touch, his taste, the man smell of him.

She opened her lips, taking his tongue deep in her mouth as her body took his manhood, relishing the warm, moist invasion of him, the total domination of his maleness. She was swept by a frenzy of desire, her small hands running up and down his naked body, fighting to keep from clawing him, pulled him even deeper. She could feel him throbbing in the very core of her, pulsating and swelling with the life he was surging to place within.

She was not going to be able to wait for him,
she thought with regret, feeling the trembling beginning deep in the very soul of her being. The trembling became strong convulsions of desire and her small hands gripped his hard hips as her body gripped his maleness. She kissed his lips and felt his hands covering, squeezing her breasts as he drove hard and deep into her.

“I—I can’t stop,” she whispered as she surrendered to the tidal wave of pleasure that was sweeping her along on its crest.

“Don’t stop. Come with me,” he gasped. Then she felt his body hesitate, shudder deep inside her. For a split second, she was aware of the way her eager body seized his, eager for the seed he was placing deep where she wanted it, needed it.

The tidal wave swept her along helplessly. She couldn’t stop it, didn’t want to stop it. The intensity of the feeling swept her under and she was gasping like a drowning victim, holding on to the man in her arms.

“It’s all right, Summer,” he whispered. “Let it take you . . .”

And she relaxed and gave way to the urges of her body, floating on the tidal wave as it crashed against the shores of her consciousness. They seemed caught in time as he gave up his lifeseed and she accepted it willingly, hungrily.

It was a sensation she didn’t want to give up, the passion of the crashing waves, but slowly it was receding, leaving her flung on a distant beach. She wondered for a moment where she was. Her eyes flickered open and she realized he held her against his heart very tightly. She could feel her breast pressing against his beating heart, her own rhythmic pulse. She heard his gentle breathing, felt the fine dew of perspiration on his bronze skin.

She looked into his eyes. Only moments before, they had been burning and intense. Now they were soft pools, reflecting her own image back at her because of the flickering fire against the twilight outside.

She smiled and reached up to touch his cheek. “I see me in your eyes,” she murmured.

“Do you see me also in your heart?” he asked earnestly as if suddenly aware that it might be too good to last. His big hand cupped her small face ever so gently as if he were afraid she was a ghost that would disappear if he loved her too deeply.

“You know I do.” She said, smiling, reaching her arms up around his neck, remembering how he had refused to leave her behind in the forest, even to save his own life. He still lay within her and she didn’t want him to move.

He frowned slightly. “You say it so easily,” he said, “and yet I’m afraid you will never be quite mine, never all mine as I want you to be.” His hand touched her face. “You
mistai
, you magic thing, who are you?”

Her face wrinkled in puzzlement. “I don’t understand what you mean. I am Summer Priscilla Van Schuyler; you know that.”

“If the day ever comes that you are really mine completely,” he murmured, “you will give me a different answer.”

His words troubled her because she did not understand what he meant. But she did not want to think about the future as she snuggled into his embrace. “Let’s talk no more of this.” She kissed the edge of his mouth. “We have each other and this moment and that is enough for me.”

He held her as if he would never let her go. “If it is enough for you, it will have to be enough for me, too,” he answered. “But I want more, probably more than you are willing to give, maybe more than you are able to give.”

“I don’t understand ...” Her voice trailed off sleepily as she stared with drooping eyelids into the campfire while the rain poured down outside their snug lair. There seemed to be no one else in the universe except the two of them and she had never felt so safe and secure.

He moved from within her, cuddled her close against his chest with her head on his arm. As she drifted off to sleep, she felt his heart beating against her bare breast, his lips brushing her face. The last thing she remembered was the steady sound of rain outside as she slept locked in his arms.

When her eyes flickered open, she could see dawn in the east with its pale lavender and rosy hues. She sat up abruptly; realized she was alone.

Frightened and suddenly vulnerable, she crossed her hands over her nakedness, her long hair draped down to cover her full breasts. Had he abandoned her? What would she do? How would she survive? Summer looked down at her ankle, still slightly swollen, but much better. Still, it would be tender to walk on. But where would she walk to? She had no idea where she was in the wilderness.

The small fire barely burned, its ashes pale pink and gray in the morning light. The rain had ceased.

She craned her head, looking for the rugged, bronzed face. “Iron Knife?” she called. “Where are you?”

He wouldn’t have risked his life yesterday to save her and then abandoned her, common sense told her that. Still, her heart beat faster and she felt uneasy as she peered through the green trees around her, already turning gold and orange in the coming autumn.

“Iron Knife?” she called again.

She heard a sound and he came into view around a giant boulder leading the Appaloosa stallion. “Hush, Little One.” He put his finger to his lips in warning. “If there were any enemies in the area, do you not think they would be drawn to the sound of a woman’s voice calling out in English?”

She felt a rush of relief, got up to throw herself into his arms. “I didn’t think of that. I was afraid you were gone, never coming back.”

He touched the tip of her nose lightly. “Now you sound like me, Summer. Why do we both worry so about losing each other?”

“Because this much happiness can’t possibly last,” she answered in a rush of emotion as she hugged him to her. “Because both our civilizations frown on our love and they are bound to separate us sooner or later.”

He put his arm around her shoulders and looked intently into her eyes. “When they do that, it will be because I am dead and unable to stop them. Remember that, Summer, they will never take you from me except for that reason.”

His words reassured her and she limped over to pat the horse’s soft, velvet nose. “Where did you find Spotted Blanket?”

He also patted the horse. “Like I told you, he had swum across the river and was grazing not too far from here. He came running right up to me.”

He went over, stoked the fire, reached up to touch her shirt still hanging on the ledge, then tossed it to her. “Can you make it by yourself to the edge of the river to wash and clean up?”

She nodded and slipped the shift over her head.

He strode over and took a plump rabbit off his saddle. “I managed to catch this in a snare made of vines and I’ve picked some berries and some wild black walnuts. When you come back from the river, we’ll eat.”

It was a great morning,
she thought, shaking back her hair as she limped down to the water to wash up. Raindrops glimmered on wildflowers, each a rainbow of color as the sun touched it. Wild plants had turned lush green overnight from the rain and a doe drinking from the river looked up in startled surprise and bounded away. It all contrasted starkly with the blackened skeletons of the forest on the other side.

Yes, it was a great morning,
she thought again as she splashed her face. Yesterday, she had discovered love and survived certain death. She thought how great it was to be alive as she limped back and settled herself by the small fire.

They shared the fat rabbit he roasted and ate the berries. She licked her fingers and smirked at him. “If only the Beacon Hill ladies of Boston could see me now, they’d be scandalized.”

His eyes gazed tenderly at her as he leaned back on his elbows. “Because you slept naked in my arms all night?”

“That too.” She giggled. “But the idea of eating with my hands and licking my fingers! Why, they couldn’t imagine how much fun this can all be. All these years, I haven’t been living; I’ve been merely existing. Like most women, I’ve been too afraid of life to really live! I never really had any fun before.”

His face was suddenly serious. “Is that all I am to you,
fun?’ I can just see you someday sitting in your fine home, entertaining your friends with the story of your escapade among the savages while they hang on your every word and thrill with the horror of it all.”

She grew serious as she turned to watch the stallion munching grass contentedly. “I’m not ever going back,” she said with finality, “not unless I can take you with me. I don’t even want to go back to your village.” She turned to look at him appealingly. “Can’t we just stay out here by ourselves forever?”

Other books

T*Witches: Dead Wrong by Randi Reisfeld, H.B. Gilmour
Stay Tuned by Lauren Clark
The Killing Type by Wayne Jones
Come To The War by Lesley Thomas
Sweet Water by Anna Jeffrey
Black Book of Arabia by Hend Al Qassemi
The Last Days of Lorien by Pittacus Lore