Savage Tempest (16 page)

Her head was spinning with ecstasy, especially when he lowered his lips to that breast and flicked the nipple with his tongue.

Joylynn was aware of a tingling sensation that filled her very being. The feel of his lips and tongue on her breast was wonderful.

He lifted his head and gazed into her eyes. “Are you well enough to do this?” he asked, proving again to Joylynn the gentle man that he was.

She had already given herself over to him, yet he hesitated and wanted to make sure she was able to make love after the miscarriage.

“
Ho
, yes, I am very well,” she murmured. “Oh, High Hawk, do make love to me.”

He needed no more encouragement. He had
waited so long for this moment. From the first time he had seen her that night in the moonlight, he knew that only she could satisfy the part of him that had been so long unfed.

And he was right. As she clung to him, her every secret place became his. He swept a hand down between them and found her hot, moist center.

And when she wrapped her legs around his waist, as though knowing what he needed, he took his manhood in one of his hands and slowly slid his heat up inside her warm, waiting folds.

He slid the hand back up and, as he began his rhythmic thrusts, placed it on one of her breasts and softly kneaded.

He groaned against her lips as once again he kissed her with a fierce, possessive heat.

Joylynn writhed in response and gave herself up to the rapture, drawing a ragged breath when he slid his lips down and rolled her nipple with his tongue.

She clung to him and floated, it seemed, above herself, as once again he touched her lips with his, wonderingly.

Waves of liquid heat pulsed through High Hawk's body. He stopped his rhythmic strokes for a moment to gaze at her. Her hair, the color of flame, lay softly around her shoulders.

Her eyes, the color of grass, gazed back at him, hazed over with the rapture that his thrusts were causing.

Her breasts were small, but high and full, the nipples a deep, smoky pink.

Joylynn gazed back at him, her pulse racing at seeing his dark, stormy eyes and the rapturous gaze he was giving her. Just looking at him made the raging hunger grow more intense within her.

And then he kissed her again, with a lazy warmth that left her weak, while his lean, sinewy buttocks continued to move, bringing with each thrust a feverish desire to reach the final peak. She knew it would be something she would never forget, not for the rest of her life.

Erotic heat knifed through her body, stabbing deeply into her secret places as the pleasure built and spread within her. She was flooded with emotions, all because of how she felt for this wonderful Pawnee chief.

She clung and moved with him as he groaned against her parted lips, whispering how dearly he loved her.

Suddenly explosive colors filled Joylynn's head as the fulfillment of their togetherness finally claimed her. She arched her back, clenched her fists as she continued to hold her arms around his neck, and cried out with a passion that matched his own. She felt his body quiver and quake when he reached his own highest peak of pleasure.

Shaken with the passion he had just found in this woman's arms, High Hawk held her for a while longer, then rolled away from her and stretched out
on his back. The moon had risen, illuminating the sky with its bright fullness; the stars were like sparkling sequins against the backdrop of night.

The glow from the fire burning in front of the small lodge fell on Joylynn's body as High Hawk turned and gazed in wonder at her.

“My love for you is forever,” he said huskily, with passion still glazing his eyes. “We will marry soon. Is that your wish?”

“I want nothing more from life than you and . . . and . . . bearing you children,” Joylynn said, tears filling her eyes at the thought of the child she had lost.

She wanted many children to help erase the thought of the one she would never have.

“I, too, want children,” High Hawk said thickly. “One in your image—”

“And several in yours,” Joylynn said, giggling.

When a breeze came across the river, brushing over her bare flesh, she shivered.

“I see that you are cold,” High Hawk said. “Come with me. I will place my buffalo robe around your shoulders until we go for your clothes.”

Joylynn went with him and was glad when he took the buffalo robe that had been used for the entrance flap of the small lodge and gently placed it around her shoulders.

She watched him dress, finding it strange that she hadn't felt at all uneasy around him. She felt no
awkwardness as she watched him slowly cover his naked body with his clothes.

Then he came and sat beside her, cradling her against him with one arm as they gazed into what remained of the fire.

Joylynn still marveled at the large rock that sat in the midst of the fire. It had lost its bright red color as its heat lessened, for the fire was burning lower and lower.

She looked over at High Hawk. “What is this small lodge for?” she asked softly.

“It is what my people call a sweat lodge,” he said, gazing over his shoulder at it. “It is a place built for the purifying of one's body, and for prayer. I built this sweat lodge myself today. In it I took my whistle made from the wing bone of an eagle. I endured the purifying sweat as I sang sacred songs and played music on my whistle.”

“I noticed a large rock in the fire, glowing red,” Joylynn murmured. “What is its purpose?”

“Inside the sweat lodge is a small circle made from rocks,” he said, nodding. “I took hot stones from the outdoor fire, like the one you saw, which I did not use, and once inside I poured water over the stones, making steam fill the lodge. I purified myself with the steam and sage that I spread on the floor, and when I was finished I dried my body with the leaves of the sage. When I came from the lodge, even before I entered the river, I felt pure and clean.”

“And then you saw me,” Joylynn murmured. “Did seeing me disturb what you had just done? Did my presence take away the purity you found in the sweat lodge?”

“Seeing you was the perfect ending to an evening of prayer and music,” High Hawk said, taking one of her hands. “You make me complete, my woman.”

He leaned closer to her and drew her into his embrace. He kissed her, causing the buffalo robe to fall from her shoulders.

He spread the robe out across the grass, then leaned over her and kissed her again. One of his hands slid his fringed breeches down so he could enter her again, making love this time slowly and sweetly.

The cry of a loon wafted toward them from across the river just as they again came to the final throes of their passion.

Stunned that she had actually made love twice in one day with a man, Joylynn giggled as he rolled away from her, leaving his hand resting across that part of her body that still throbbed from their lovemaking.

When he began slowly stroking her love bud with his fingers, arousing in her a renewed rapturous bliss, she grabbed him around his waist and drew him atop her.

Again they found ecstasy, then lay on their backs, breathing hard, their faces flushed.

“Tomorrow you will be too tired to leave on another hunt for that dreaded outlaw,” Joylynn said. She instantly regretted her words when she realized that bringing Mole into this special moment might have broken the spell that had been woven between her and High Hawk.

When he reached for her and lifted her onto his lap, she knew that nothing could spoil these special moments between them. He sat up, facing the river, his hands molding her breasts as she slowly rocked with him.

“Nothing will keep me from the hunt,” High Hawk said, bending low to brush a kiss across first one of her breasts, and then the other. She closed her eyes and threw her head back in rapture.

Then she realized that he had just said he was definitely going on another search for Mole tomorrow.

She gazed into his eyes.

She took his hands from her breasts and held them.

“My wonderful Pawnee chief, my adorable love, I ask you again, please allow me to go with you tomorrow,” she murmured.

When he didn't say anything, only drew her close and hugged her, Joylynn decided not to pursue the matter now.

She just relaxed, giving herself up to enjoyment of these moments with the man she loved.

Tomorrow, though?

She would be mounting up along with High
Hawk, and would leave the village with him to hunt for Mole, no matter how the women gasped at her bold actions.

They surely had already learned that she was different from most women they had ever known.

That thought made her smile and lean closer to High Hawk and bury her nose in the hair that lay in front of his shoulders. “I so love your hair,” she whispered, slowly stroking her fingers through it.

She gazed up at him. “I . . . so . . . love you,” she murmured, smiling at him.

When he smiled back at her, with such love and adoration in his eyes, her night was complete.

But there
was
tomorrow, and she most definitely would not take no for an answer when she mounted her horse to join the hunt with High Hawk and his warriors.

It seemed like a dream to Joylynn that High Hawk was actually allowing her to ride with him and his warriors on this newest search for Mole and his outlaw friends. Upon first arising this morning, High Hawk had told her that he had one more place in particular that neither he nor his warriors had yet searched. It had come to him in a dream, which had awakened him with a start.

She was riding on her beautiful chestnut stallion, High Hawk on his best steed. They were far from the village now, after eating a good morning meal. It had to be enough nourishment to last for a while, for once they began traveling this morning, High Hawk said there would be no stopping. His dream was leading him onward, and he did not want to waste any time.

It was still early; the sun was barely creeping up
from behind the trees. The air was crisp, with a hint of the cold weather that was to come.

Joylynn wore a long-sleeved buckskin dress, which was heavier and warmer than doeskin.

She wore the same sort of headband that High Hawk and his warriors wore in order to keep her long hair back from her face as she rode beside the man she loved. It was a plain band of buckskin, with no fancy beading on it.

She had twisted her hair into one long braid down her back.

But High Hawk and his warriors wore their hair loose and free. High Hawk's was blowing in the breeze, away from his muscled, bare shoulders. Joylynn gazed at him with admiration, proud that he was the leader of a fine, peace-loving people.

She hoped that this was the day they would find Mole. The evil man seemed to have nine lives. He was so elusive, no one ever saw him unless he wanted to be seen.

But today? Ah, yes, today she believed that he would finally get his comeuppance. High Hawk was convinced that his dream would lead them to their quarry.

Suddenly Joylynn's gaze was drawn to the side of the trail. Far to her right were two animals that she had never expected to see together.

A skunk and a porcupine were approaching each other warily, oblivious of the thundering of the
horse's hooves. They were only interested in each other.

They then turned and backed toward each other, the porcupine preparing to strike with the deadly spikes of its tail, and the skunk with its stink.

The porcupine looked over its shoulder before striking, and the skunk discharged its spray full in the other animal's face.

But at the same moment, the skunk was struck by the porcupine's quills, and the skunk squealed and fled. Meanwhile, the porcupine was gagging, coughing and retching as it ambled away into the brush in the opposite direction.

“I saw it, too,” High Hawk said.

She was glad to see him smiling, for up until now, he had been deadly serious.

“I have never seen the like,” Joylynn said, laughing softly. “I hope never to be attacked by either of those animals, for their ways of protecting themselves seem lethal, indeed.”

High Hawk started to respond, but the sound of a horse approaching from the other direction caused his jaw to tighten. He drew rein, and his warriors followed his lead as Three Bears, whom High Hawk had sent on ahead to scout the area, came riding hard toward them.

When Three Bears reached them and drew up, breathing hard, Joylynn saw that his eyes sparkled with a strange sort of victory.

“Your dream told you truths,” Three Bears said, smiling widely. “Mole is where your vision said he would be.”

Then his smile faded. “But he is not alone,” he said thickly.

“I knew he would not be alone,” High Hawk replied. “In my dream, his outlaw friends were with him. They were sitting around a fire, eating their morning meal. Were they eating when you spied them?”

“
Ho
, they were eating, and if you inhale deeply enough, you will even now smell the scent of smoke and cooked venison from their campfire,” Three Bears said. He leaned closer to High Hawk. “But there are more than his outlaw friends sitting around the fire with Mole.”

“Who else?” High Hawk asked, lifting an eyebrow. “I saw no one else in my dream.”

“Your dream must have ended before the pony soldiers entered it,” Three Bears said guardedly.

“Pony soldiers?” High Hawk and Joylynn said almost at the same time.

“Pony soldiers are with the outlaws?” High Hawk asked, gazing past Three Bears in the direction of where Mole was camping with his outlaw gang.

“
Ho
,” Three Bears said. “From where I watched in hiding I could hear them planning an attack on our village.”

Joylynn's heart was racing. She never would have believed that any soldier under the command
of a decent colonel would ally himself with the likes of Mole.

How could it be that Mole and the soldiers were coming together to fight the Pawnee? Just the thought of the United States government going back on its word to live in peace with these Indians made her skin crawl.