White Dawn (20 page)

“How?” she asked, licking her lips.

In her gaze, he felt like a man drowning in three feet of water helpless to save himself because he’d lost his wits. He ran the pad of his thumb across her cheek, over the bridge of her nose to sweep the curve of her face to the corner of her mouth. Then he traced the line of her lips, feeling them part beneath his touch. “Because you look like you want me to kiss you again.”

“Do you want to?” The question came in a breathy whisper.

John groaned, his hand sliding into her hair above her ear. “Look at me, Emily. Tell me what I want. What am I thinking?”

Emily stared deep into his gaze. She reached out to rest her palm against the side of his face. Then, as if coming to a decision, she said, “I think you want what I want.”

Groaning, John moved over her, his lips inches from hers. “You’ll never know how 0much.” And yet he was hesitant. “I don’t want to rush you, Emily.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him to her. “You’re talking too much,” she teased.

John didn’t need a second invitation. Using all of his strength, he meant to be gentle, to go slow and stop before things exploded. But the minute his mouth touched hers, his control snapped. His mouth claimed hers with an intensity that left him aching. He demanded and he needed. His tongue plunged inside and took. Passion clouded his mind and urged him on.

He had to stop, but she tasted so sweet, felt so good. So right. His mouth merged with hers. Where he ended and she started he couldn’t tell. All he knew was that he had to have her and wouldn’t survive without her. A sharp nip to his tongue broke his daze. Fearing he’d been too rough, he tried to pull away and apologize. It took him a moment to realize she’d captured his tongue between her teeth. She sucked and caressed it with the tip of her own. Flames of desire shot from his mouth to his groin.

Emily became the aggressor then, kissing him in a way that left him breathless. She forced her way into his mouth with her tongue. Plunging and withdrawing, she drove him wild with the rhythm his body yearned to imitate. They pulled apart reluctantly, breathlessly, each gulping with lungs starved for air. The sound of their harsh breathing drowned out all else. Her breasts rose and fell, grinding against his chest.

Keeping his weight from crushing her by resting on his forearms, John dropped his head to the softness of her breasts and heard the frantic beating of her heart. Her fingers slid over his shoulders, curved around his arms and down to his hips. He had to move off her, put distance between them. Yet the words died in his throat.

Nothing short of an act of God could have stopped him from lowering his mouth to hers. This time he went slowly, his tongue stroking gently over her swollen lips before trailing the line of her jaw. He nipped her earlobe. His hand slid between them and cupped her breast, his fingers feathering lightly over its taut peak through the fabric of her dress.

“You’re teasing me.” Emily moaned, trying to bring his mouth back to hers. She needed his kiss, had to have his mouth on hers, wanted to feel his hand cupping her breasts, skin to skin.

Instead of answering her plea, John continued to tease her with his tongue. From her ear, he blazed a heated path down her neck, back along her collarbone, and up to the hollow of her throat, where his hot breath sent shivers dancing down her spine. The ache lodged between her legs. She arched her back, forcing her breast harder against his palm.

She felt on fire. She ached. She needed this man—now. Throwing caution to the wind, Emily rolled him over, slipped out of her skirt and straddled him. Without thought, she pulled off her blouse and tossed it aside.

She watched John’s eyes widen. She stared down at herself, seeing the bold jutting of her heavy breasts, their pink nipples tight, their tips large peaks. She felt self-conscious sitting there with him staring at her. She’d hated her size, hated having men stare at her, until her Indian Apollo had made her feel beautiful. And now, again, watching John’s eyes widen with first appreciation, then desire, she no longer hated the shape of her body.

“You’re beautiful,” he said in a croak, taking a breast in each hand. “Perfect,” he said under his breath, squeezing gently.

Seeing his hands cupping her, Emily thought so too. It was as though she had been made for him. Another claim of her father’s fell by the wayside. He’d told her that her size was a sign of the devil, and only a man with evil in his heart would want her. With married men so often bold in their advances, she’d believed him.

John raised up, his lips closing tenderly around one breast’s proud tip. As he suckled first one, then the other, Emily threw her head back and moaned. With each sharp tug, blood throbbed in her groin. She shifted, finding the bulge of his arousal beneath her. She rocked upon it, slid over him. His hands moved around her buttocks and pulled her tight against him. His fingers followed the curve of her spine, then returned to her buttocks. He held her poised over him. Her wet heat locked against his swollen length. She moaned and he groaned as they kissed.

He rolled her over, settling his hips into the cradle of hers. “I want you, Emily.”

She sobbed his name then, for he had slid the length of his covered erection ever so slowly over the damp mound of her sex. Her legs parted farther. She wanted to feel him against her. In her. She tore at his shirt. “Yes,” she cried, jerking her hips upward.

Another slow slide of his buckskin-covered shaft over her sensitive flesh brought a sheen of sweat to John’s brow. It sent waves of need coursing through her. “Don’t make me wait, John,” she begged. “I need you. Now.”

John yanked off his shirt and unbuttoned his breeches, rising up onto his knees. “Be sure, Sunshine. Be sure. I couldn’t live with your unhappiness.”

“I’m sure, John. Please!” And she was. She needed him. She wasn’t sure this was love, but she needed him in a way that left her scared and vulnerable as she’d never felt before. She could no longer control herself.

Standing, John kicked off his buckskins. Emily drew in a breath at the sight of him. When he knelt over her, his manhood large and erect, her mouth fell open. His hands weren’t the only part of John that was huge. Awed, she reached out and took him in her hand, her fingers barely able to close around him. He shuddered.

Her heart pounded when he moved over her, but her legs parted and her knees lifted and fell to the side.

“I love you, Emily.” He stroked the moist folds of flesh of her sex with the tip of his.

“I—”

John’s lips silenced her. “Don’t. Don’t say it just because I did. When you’re ready, the words will come. And if they don’t, then give me—us—this. Just tell me that you want this as much as I do and that you won’t regret it.”

Emily’s breath hitched, waiting desperately as she was for him to enter her. She felt him throbbing at her entrance, pulsing lightly against her flesh like the beat of a butterfly’s wings. “I want you, John. More than I’ve ever wanted anything. I don’t know if that’s love. All I know is that if you left me today, I’d turn to dust and blow away.”

With a cry of some tightly held emotion, John gathered her close and kissed her. Emily wrapped her legs around his waist and cried out when he pressed into her, slowly merging them into one. For a long moment, it was enough. The feel of him stretching her, filling her. Her hands stroked his back, his sides, then tangled in his hair.

His head lifted, then ducked down to find her breasts. His tongue lapped and laved and circled her aching nipples. One of his hands traveled down her belly to the place where they were joined. He touched her, igniting a new fire as he stroked the most sensitive spot on her body. The pleasure, pure and explosive, burst from her. Her hips rose, her cries turning to whimpers of need as she tried to force him to move inside her.

John whispered words of love while teasing and taunting her breasts. His tongue flicked their hard peaks while his fingers stroked the swollen bud between her legs. Her hips fought against the heavy weight of him pinning her to the ground. She wanted him. Needed to feel harder strokes. But she couldn’t move. She squeezed her buttocks, feeling him throbbing inside her.

The tension built. She arched her back, thrusting her breast into his mouth. He suckled at it, the tip of his tongue stroking across its peak in time to the pulsing deep within her. “Please, John. Now.” The world spun.

John lifted his head and stared down into her eyes. “Yes, Sunshine. Now. Let me feel you explode around me.” His finger circled harder, faster. His throbbing manhood shifted as he moved up to claim her mouth with his.

His words and his touch and his kiss sent her over the edge. Her fingers clutched his shoulders as she burst into flames that erupted through the heavens in millions of glowing sparks.

John gritted his teeth against the spasms of Emily’s sex convulsing around him, urging him to begin the hard and furious strokes that would take him over the edge. But he held back. Held himself rigid until he felt Emily go limp.

Reaching down, he slid his hands beneath her buttocks and lifted, bringing her hard against him. He withdrew, then slid back into her, burying himself to the hilt, stretching her, feeling himself fill her completely.

She gasped. Lifting her legs, she planted the soles of her feet against his shoulders as he pulled out, then pushed in with slow, even strokes. She arched her back off the ground. Faster and faster he thrust, and louder and more frantic came her cries. Her hips jerked, her feet pushing against him in her frantic need. With each thrust, he clenched his fingers over the cheeks of her buttocks to grind her quivering body tightly against him. His control slipped, the pinnacle loomed, and he pounded against her. Each breath he released was a harsh moan.

“Now, my sweet Lady Dawn. Now.”

“Yes, yes,” she cried, throwing her arms over her head, her head rolling back and forth with each of his wild thrusts. She gasped his name then. He felt her stiffen, felt her body tighten around him, squeezing and squeezing until John himself went rigid. His cry of release mingled with hers.

The sensation of flying overtook him. John tried to hang on to it, wanted it to last forever, but his body collapsed atop Emily’s. Her legs relaxed and fell from his sides, and his and Emily’s chests rose and fell with shallow breaths.

Lifting his head John stared down at Emily, enchanted by her full, parted lips, the wild disarray of her hair spread out around her head like a halo, and the sound of her breathing. Her eyes, heavy with passion, opened. She flushed, stains of embarrassment creeping up her neck.

“You’re beautiful, Emily. That was beautiful. A gift I’ll treasure always.”

Her fingers slid through his hair, long, dark strands of which fell to frame his face like a dark curtain, secreting the two of them from the world. “I never… I mean, not like that—”

John silenced her with a gentle kiss and whispered, “I understand. I’ve never felt this way with any other woman. Never wanted to watch, needed to make it last as long for her as I could.” He lifted his head. “This is different. You are different, and you make me feel different—as if this were the first time.” And it was, in a sense, because it was the first time he’d ever been in love. He rolled to one side, taking Emily with him, refusing to part them. His hand lifted to brush the hair from her face.

She traced the tip of her finger over his lips. “I was so afraid you’d be disappointed.”

Startled, he lifted his head. “Why would I be disappointed?”

She ran her finger over his chest, refusing to look at him. “I’m used.”

John forced her to look at him. “Would you be disappointed if I told you that you aren’t my first? Or second? Or third?”

Emily wrinkled her nose. “No one expects a man to wait.”

“I don’t hold to double standards. I love you, and that’s all that matters. The past is past. For you. And me.”

Emily smiled up at him, relieved that he didn’t hold her past against her. For it
was
the past. Now there was only John and the incredible way he made her feel. Right now, she was very much afraid it was love she felt—a deeper and truer love than she’d known before. “You’re wonderful, John. Sometimes I’m afraid to believe that you are real. I don’t deserve someone like you.”

He brushed her lips with his. “That’s where you’re wrong, Sunshine. You’ve lived your hell; you deserve a bit of heaven. Maybe I won’t be the one to give it to you for eternity, but I want that for you. And I’d try to give it to you if you let me.”

And he would. She knew he’d try to move the earth and the heavens if she asked. “You do make me happy, John.”

Pulling her on top of him, he gave her a wicked grin. “We have the rest of today and all of tomorrow before my family returns. I’d like to make you a lot happier.” He moved inside her, showing her what he intended—and that he was capable.

Settling herself over him, Emily smiled, satisfied at the feel of him hard and throbbing inside her. Taking a deep breath, she lifted up, then lowered herself all the way down his newly swollen length. He filled her and, to her delight, her body responded as if they had not even paused. “Well, are you going to talk or finish what you started?” She squeezed the inner walls of her body and felt his hips jerk in response.

John reached up and grabbed her. “Damn, woman, you’ll finish me off before I’m ready.” He groaned.

Emily fell forward, her palms cushioned by the soft mat of hair on his chest. “But I’m ready, John,” she said, panting. And with that she gave in to the renewed passion flooding through her.

John and Emily spent the rest of that day and the next walking, talking and kissing. They spent the night together alone in the cabin, simply making love.

Emily woke before the sun and sat up. She ran her fingers through her hopelessly tangled hair. John’s grandfather and cousin were due back today. She hated to see her time alone with John come to an end.

He pulled her back to him. “We’ll find a way to be alone again.” He kissed her long and hard.

“Not while your cousin is here. I don’t want to cause trouble.” Emily rested her head on his shoulder, her fingers absently trailing a path through the thick mat of hair on his chest.

“My cousin will have to accept what is.” John’s voice was hard.

Emily lifted her head. “I hope so. But out of respect for your grandfather, we can’t flaunt it.” She sighed. “I’ll miss our walks, though.”

John’s fingers slid down to cup one breast. “Just our walks?”

“Well…”

At his shocked glare, she laughed. “I might miss kissing you.”

John growled and rolled her onto her back. “Just kissing?” He was hard, already aroused. His swollen manhood pressed into her, probing the entrance to her rapidly moistening sex.

Biting her lip to keep from begging him to make love to her, Emily tried to keep the laughter from her voice. “What else is—” Her voice caught when he slid into her. He penetrated her fully.

“This. Will you miss
this?
” His mouth latched on to the engorged tip of her breast. “And this?” He moaned then, as he nipped her. Withdrawing, he left just the tip of himself pulsing within her throbbing heat. “Tell me, Emily. What will you miss?”

“This.” Her fingers slid down his chest and found his flat male nipples. She lightly pinched them, felt the rumble in his chest as he caught his breath. He thrust back inside of her. “And that.” She gasped. Then her fingers trailed lower, to where they were joined. She looked down to where her pale curls nestled against his midnight-black ones.

Lifting her arms, she pressed her nails into his buttocks—then she whimpered, bringing his mouth to hers. “And this. All of it. You. You’re right. We’ll just have to find a way to be alone.”

The sun had fully risen before Emily woke again. This time she dressed. John woke and dressed as well. Before they left the cabin, they placed their bedding back in the usual spots, and opened the shutters and door to air the scent of lovemaking from the tiny shack.

Outside in the warm fall day, John pulled her into his arms and held her tightly. “Marry me, Emily.”

She closed her eyes tight. She wanted to marry him. Thought what she felt was love. But she had to be sure. And as long as she lived here, where she was dependent on him, she’d never know for sure. “John—”

Holding her from him, he smiled sadly. “I know. Just know that I’ve asked you. I’ll take you back to the mission, then to Kentucky to find your father. I won’t rush you. And I won’t pressure you. You don’t have to give me an answer right away. But I want you to know that my intentions are honorable. I don’t want you for just a few days or a few months. I want you at my side forever. I want to laugh with you. Cry with you. Even fight with you so we can make up. I want to spend my life with you and grow old with you. I want to share the dawns and sunsets of every day with you. I
love
you.”

“That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.” Tears spilled from Emily’s eyes, and a funny feeling in her stomach made her rub at the spot. Hand in hand, they left the shack.

Emily started the morning meal. It was odd, cooking alone, but since Mary and Ben had taken off after Gascon and Willy had left, she’d gotten used to it. She grinned. Mary had understood all too well Emily’s desires. And Emily appreciated her friend’s disappearance. This time alone with John had been heavenly. But now other things were intruding on her happiness. Though they still had the day ahead of them, Emily dreaded the return of Willy.

As it had for the past few mornings, her stomach seemed to knot up, making her nauseated. Figuring it was the combination of being tired and fearing Willy, she ate a biscuit and drank some tea that Mary had left behind. As she was sipping the tea, she saw Ben and Mary returning.

Sitting very still, Emily was shocked to find the sick feeling didn’t go away. This morning, the aroma of frying fat made her stomach turn. Finally, when she could stand it no longer, she crashed past the incoming Ben and Mary and ran down to the stream, fighting overpowering waves of nausea. She lost.

A few minutes later, she knelt at the water’s edge and splashed the cold liquid on her face.

“Are you all right, Emily?” she heard.

She glanced over her shoulder to find Mary. She didn’t want the older woman to worry. “I’m fine. Haven’t felt well for the last few days. It’ll pass.”

Mary frowned. “What’s wrong? Besides being sick to your stomach.”

Shrugging, not wanting to make a big deal out of it, Emily started to stand. When another wave of sickness hit, she sat back down. “Mostly I’m just tired,” she explained. But, in truth, she was starting to get a bit worried. There were no doctors out here if she was gravely ill.

Mary sat down. “Emily, did you and John sleep together?”

Emily stared at her friend. There was no censure, no hint of condemnation in her voice or eyes. Just curiosity. “Yes,” she admitted.

“Well, I’ve got three older sisters. When they each got with child, they were all sick. And tired. Could you be with child?”

“John and I only made love for the first time a couple of days ago,” Emily said, feeling her face heat with embarrassment at such frank talk.

Mary looked relieved. “Oh. Then it’s way too early.”

A sudden chill went through Emily. For John, yes. But not if she was with child from her Indian lover. Frantically she tried to recall her last monthly. Surely she’d had one since John found her. With horror she realized her last flow had been during her time with her Indian warrior—right before he’d abandoned her.

“Oh, Mary,” she cried, panicking. “I’ve missed two flows.”

Puzzled, Mary stared at her. “I thought you said you hadn’t slept with John until recently.”

Tears welled in Emily’s eyes. “That’s true. But—”

“But what? Tell me what’s wrong, Emily.”

Needing the advice of her friend, Emily told her the full truth of what had happened to her. When she finished, Mary’s mouth was open. For once, the outspoken woman was speechless.

“Well?” Emily demanded. Had her confession cost Mary’s friendship?

“Oh, my! That’s a fine pickle,” the woman said. Her eyes were wide. She leaned forward and hugged Emily. “I hate to say this, but it’s my guess you’re with child.” Her face, when she sat back, was full of sympathy and understanding.

“What am I going to do?” Emily felt as though the world had crashed at her feet. Strangely, it had taken until this moment, but she had finally realized that she loved John. Loved him so deeply and naturally that she hadn’t even felt the change. But she did. For days she’d felt giddy with happiness just believing they were going to marry. She wanted it. She wanted him. She wanted all that they had together. But now…

“You’re going to tell John,” Mary said firmly. “Trust him, Emily. He’ll understand.”

Emily stared out across the stream, unseeing. Yes, she’d tell John. Because now she couldn’t marry him. Like her mother, she’d gotten in the family way with someone other than a husband. But unlike her mother, she would never marry. The consequences of that—the possibility of love turning to hate—were too great.

Mary tapped her shoulder. “The food is still on the fire. Are you coming?”

Emily shook her head. “Not yet. I think I need to be alone.”

Mary stood. “All right.” Then, before she left, she bent down and gave Emily a hug.

Emily waited until she was alone before she let herself cry. Her heart felt like it had just broken in two. That she could never marry the man she finally realized she loved was almost more than she could bear. But she couldn’t now. And she had to tell him the truth.

Willy wasn’t happy. In fact, he was downright furious. Across the way, John sat on a log with Emily in front of him. His cousin’s arms were draped over her shoulders as he helped her tie a complicated knot. Emily leaned back in his arms, John’s head dropping so his mouth grazed her temple. And this hadn’t been the first time he’d seen them sitting so close. Or looking like they shared something special.

He and his grandfather had been back for more than a week, and it was clear that something had happened between Emily and John while they were gone. The two often went off alone now, returning with freshly gathered berries or greens. They acted like nothing serious had happened between them, but Emily’s flushed cheeks and the sparkle in her eyes gave her away.

Also, Willy’s cousin had changed. He had grown more possessive of Emily. He would touch her now, sometimes just a brush of his shoulder or hand, or sometimes a lingering look. Other times he’d sit close to her—as he did right now.

Suddenly Ben yelled out for John’s help. As his cousin got up and left Emily to practice tying the knot, Willy grinned. Hurrying over, he took John’s seat. “How ’bout I teach you another knot. I know lots,” he boasted, moving behind her.

Emily got to her feet, dropping her rope. “No. I’ve had enough for today.”