Chieftain (Historical Romance) (16 page)

His lips against her tingling flesh, he said, “I told you once that if I ever came inside, I might never want to leave.” He lifted his head, raised a hand, captured her chin and made her look directly into his eyes.

He
said, “I have no wife, Maggie. Have never had a wife.”

“You haven’t?” she choked, her breath short, heart pounding.

“Let me love you, Maggie,” he said in a voice that was a caress. “Let me show you how I feel about you.”

Maggie shivered but said, “Shanaco, we can’t. We mustn’t. You’re not…you aren’t well.”

“Make me well, Maggie.”

M
aggie
didn’t hesitate.

She rose from the bed, crossed the room, snapped her fingers at Pistol and sent the surprised wolfhound out the door and into the snow. She locked up behind him, turned and hurried back to the bed.

Wordlessly she began undressing. She was neither reluctant nor doubtful. Nor did she concern herself with the inevitable consequences of her impulsive actions. There would, she knew, be plenty of time for regrets later.

But not now.

Now was a night meant for the kind of passion and pleasure that she would remember for the rest of her life. All the exquisite physical joy and unequaled sensual delight to be found on this earth was surely right here waiting for her. And she was going to reach out and take it without a backward glance.

On this cold, snowy Sunday night she wanted nothing more than to feel this magnificent man’s arms around her, his lean, naked body pressed against hers, conquering her, making her his own.

Maggie felt an electric tingling in her arms and legs as she drew her dress up over her head and dropped it to the floor. Her pulse pounding, she knew that Shanaco was observing every move she made. She found it incredibly exciting to have him watch as she disrobed. She did not feel the least bit shy or reticent, despite the fact she had never before undressed in the presence of a man.

She wanted
to undress for Shanaco—she could hardly wait to get her clothes off. Her only concern was would he find her pleasing?

She needn’t have worried.

When her clothes had been discarded and she was as naked as he, Maggie watched Shanaco’s eyes take on a glittering hotness that made her bare belly contract sharply. At once she felt warm and cold and half dizzy with growing excitement.

Shanaco was dazzled by her startling naked beauty; his erection was swift and sudden and huge. He was grateful for the concealing bedcovers. His only fear was that he couldn’t restrain the strong animal hunger she aroused in him. He was afraid he would shock or repel her and that was the last thing he wanted to do.

Shanaco relished the way Maggie proudly stood there before him, inviting him to examine her, challenging him to find fault. He found none. He gazed with wonder on the slender, undraped female form and thought he’d never seen such perfection. Her shoulders were nicely rounded, her skin like fine alabaster. Her breasts, while not large, were high and full, the nipples a shy, virginal pink. She was long-waisted and so slim her delicate ribs showed through the pale, taut flesh. Her waist was so small he could easily scan it with his hands. Her stomach was totally flat and her hips flared with just the right amount of curvature.

Her thighs
were firm and well shaped, and between them a riot of blazing red curls guarded the slick feminine flesh he longed to uncover and explore. Shanaco felt his heavy flesh involuntarily stir beneath the covers and he bit the inside of his jaw until he tasted blood.

His intense gaze finally lifted to Maggie’s flushed face. He caught the quickening tempo of her breathing and glimpsed the swift pulse at the base of her throat. But her eyes revealed no fear, only anticipation. That pleased him no end.

Maggie was not afraid of him now, had never been afraid of him. Nor was she sexually aroused because he was an Indian and therefore taboo and dangerous. She didn’t think of him that way, didn’t treat him as if he were a novelty. And that made her incredibly alluring to him.

Warning himself to take it slow and easy, Shanaco turned back the covers, extended his hand and said softly, “Come into my arms, Maggie. Let me hold you.”

Her heart now racing, Maggie got into the soft, warm bed with him. Shanaco quickly drew the covers up over her. She lay on her back, her hair fanned out on the pillow. Shanaco lay on his side against her, his weight supported on an elbow.

He gazed
down at her face with his hypnotic eyes, and Maggie found herself lifting her head off the pillow, longing for him to kiss her, feeling as if she couldn’t wait one more second to have his lips on hers again.

Shanaco laid the back of his hand on her cheek, let his knuckles slip slowly down to the side of her throat. He turned his hand over, curled lean fingers around the side of her neck and placed the tip of his thumb in the sensitive hollow of her throat. He slowly rubbed his thumb up to her chin and back down again. He continued to gently stroke her throat, her chin, her cheek as he told her how beautiful she was, how sweet, how much he wanted her, how much he wanted to please her.

And then at last he said, his voice barely above a whisper, “Kiss me, Maggie. Kiss me like you’ve never kissed any other man.”

Before she could reply, his mouth came down on hers and he kissed her for a long, long time, each kiss growing hotter, longer, more stirring. As his tongue urgently searched the insides of her mouth, Shanaco slowly eased the covers down until they rested around Maggie’s waist. She hardly realized that the covering sheet and blanket had moved.

His heated mouth so dazzled her, it was a minute or two before Maggie became aware that Shanaco’s smooth, hard chest was now pressing down on her bare breasts as he kissed her. She emitted a little strangled cry of pleasure at the electrifying contact of skin on skin. Suddenly she felt as if her nipples were on fire. Anxiously she clasped Shanaco’s biceps and rubbed her aching breasts against the muscled wall of his naked chest.

Maggie
moaned her protest when Shanaco moved and the thrilling contact was lost. His heated lips left hers and he raised his head. She gave him a questioning look. Then her breath erupted in a rush when, gazing into her eyes, Shanaco put a warm hand on her right breast and cupped it gently. He rubbed the pad of his thumb back and forth over the nipple and watched the changing emotions march across her beautiful face.

She sighed heavily.

Shanaco whispered her name and plucked at the nipple with all five fingers, gently molding it into a temptingly rigid point of passion. Again he said her name, took his hand away, lowered his head and kissed the peaking nipple. Maggie gasped, closed her eyes, clutched at the mattress and held her breath as his tongue circled the nipple teasingly and then leisurely licked it as one might lick a delicious piece of hard candy.

“Shanaco, Shanaco,” she breathed, squirming, sighing with rising pleasure.

Her eyes opened and widened when Shanaco began to suck on the sensitive nipple. She could feel his lips tugging forcefully, could see his jaws flexing. She was glad that his eyes were closed and that his long hair was tied back with one of her hair ribbons so she could see his handsome face bent to her. She liked watching him love her like this, liked seeing his mouth enclosing her nipple, liked watching the firm pull of his lips on her responsive flesh.

Hot and
happy, Maggie lay there on her back watching the handsome Shanaco suckle her breasts. She sighed and stretched and found it curious and wonderful that she could feel the tugging of his lips not just on her nipples but in her lower belly and even between her tightly squeezed legs.

Immediately a forbidden vision flashed through her racing brain; the sight of Shanaco kissing her all over. Everywhere. Her hands. Her feet. Her knees. Her stomach. Her thighs. Even…even….

Shanaco raised his head.

“I want,” he said, tangling his fingers in her long red hair, “to make love to you until you think I’ve loved you all I can.” He smiled wickedly and added, “Then I’ll love you just a little bit more.”

She smiled her approval. Shanaco kissed her mouth, and while his lips moved on hers, Maggie felt his impressive erection throbbing insistently against her thigh in tempo with his thrusting tongue. She felt his fingers enclose her wrist and move her hand down to his hard, heavy flesh. He released her hand but continued to kiss her ardently. With an innate knowledge born of passion, Maggie gently enclosed the pulsing shaft and began to gently stroke him.

Shanaco’s lips
left hers. He again braced his weight on an elbow and lay on his side. Never releasing her hold on him, Maggie turned over onto her side so she faced him. Gripping him a trifle too firmly, she asked, “Is this the way? Does this feel good?”

“Loosen your hold a little, sweetheart,” he gently instructed.

“Oh, sorry.”

“It’s all right. All right. Now, start at the very base and slide your fingers slowly up.” She complied, watching his face to be sure she wasn’t hurting him. “Now back down again,” he said.

“Like this?” she asked, warming to the exercise.

“Yes,” he praised, “exactly like that.” Soon he was in danger of climaxing. He quickly moved her hand away.

He leaned to her and kissed her. While he kissed her he pressed her back down and fanned his hand across her flat belly. He felt her shiver at his touch. He kept his mouth on hers while he moved his hand steadily lower. Pausing for a second, Shanaco gently raked lean fingers through the fiery coils of her groin, then coaxed her legs apart.

When he touched the slick flesh between, Maggie tore her lips from his and looked at him, her mouth rounding into an O of surprised pleasure. Shanaco smiled. And he continued to caress her. He stroked her with a slow, encompassing touch, his forefinger circling that tiny button of pure sensation, then slipping farther down to the source of wetness to test her level of excitement.

He wanted
her to be highly aroused, but he didn’t want her to climax. Not just yet. He wanted their first orgasm to be a shared one that would never be forgotten by either of them. So he teased and toyed with her, thrilling her, readying her for the act of total lovemaking.

Judging the intensity of her arousal—she was almost ready but not quite—Shanaco took his hand from her, stretched out on his back and drew her over to lie atop him. For the next few minutes he allowed the sexually awakened and healthily curious Maggie to acquaint herself fully with his body.

She loved it.

Careful to avoid the worst of the many bruises and broken skin decorating his flesh, Maggie squirmed and trembled and rubbed herself against him while Shanaco held her in his arms and told her of all the forbidden sexual pleasures they were going to share.

Maggie hardly knew when they changed positions. But soon she found herself on her back with Shanaco atop her. His handsome chiseled face and wide sculpted shoulders loomed above, the dying firelight casting shadows on his high cheekbones and passion-hardened mouth.

Shanaco kissed her, and as he kissed her he gently nudged her legs wider apart with his knee. He moved his slim hips between her open thighs and carefully positioned himself so that the smooth tip of his erection was cradled in the red coils, lightly touching her slick, swollen female flesh.

Maggie
closed her eyes in expectation of his penetration.

“Look at me,” he said softly. “Open your eyes, Maggie.”

Maggie wordlessly obeyed. She looked directly into his molten-silver eyes and shivered. While they gazed at each other, Shanaco again took her hand, drew it down between their bodies and wrapped it around his aching erection. He moved his hand up to her face and cupped her fever-hot cheek.

“Take me, Maggie. Make me yours. Love me, sweetheart.”

“I will,” she whispered, and while he obligingly slid down into position, she guided him up into her, ignoring the brief discomfort, longing to have him become a part of her.

His penetration was careful and leisurely, his only concern that he might hurt her. When he was fully inside her, Shanaco sighed with elation and kissed Maggie. For a time he lay perfectly still, not daring to move until her tensed body began to relax and more comfortably accept him. Only then did he cautiously begin the deep, rhythmic thrusting. Slow and easy until Maggie stopped grimacing, wrapped her arms around his neck and began to lift her pelvis, eagerly accepting him, loving the feel of him moving inside her.

Shanaco was so hot for this flamed-haired beauty he could hardly keep from climaxing immediately. He closed his eyes so that he wouldn’t be looking at her glowing face, her passion-clouded eyes.

But Maggie wouldn’t allow it.

“Open your eyes, Shanaco,” she said softly, repeating the request he had made to her only moments ago. “Look at me while you love me.”

Shanaco opened his eyes. “Maggie, Maggie,” he groaned, and realized that he didn’t have to hold back any longer. Like him, she was on the verge of release. Shanaco’s thrusts grew faster and deeper. Maggie moved with him, her body burning hot, her heart racing.

Maggie cried out his name and desperately clung to Shanaco as she felt herself losing control. She found herself being swept away on a rising tide of carnal pleasure that was threatening to drown her. The joy was too great; the feelings too intense.

She could no
longer stand it!

All at once the spiraling sensation of ecstasy was so intense she bit Shanaco’s shoulder viciously. And then that sweet explosion washed over her and she knew that Shanaco was climaxing with her. It was joyous, wonderful, total bliss. All she’d ever dreamed of and more. Her arms around his neck, her breath coming in quick, shallow pants, Maggie hugged Shanaco to her and kept her legs wrapped tightly around him.

“Don’t move for a while,” she whispered against his sweat-dampened jaw.

“I couldn’t if I wanted to,” he said truthfully.

Maggie
smiled, nodded and finally let her weak arms and legs fall away. She sighed with contentment, feeling every muscle in her sated body slacken and relax.

At last Shanaco raised his head, smiled, kissed her, slid out of her and fell tiredly over onto his back. For a long, silent time they lay there on their backs, holding hands, allowing their breathing to return to normal, their heartbeats to slow.

It was Maggie who spoke first. Without moving, she said, “We’ve been unwise. You’re badly hurt and we shouldn’t have…we behaved foolishly.”

“Could be,” he said with a lazy grin.

“Undoubtedly.”

“You’re sure of that?”

“Absolutely.”

“There’s only one thing I’m sure of.”

“What’s that?”

“That we are going to behave foolishly again before this night is over.”