Wild Ecstasy (14 page)

“No-din, I love you,” Echohawk said, easing her down onto the pelts, moving over her. “My heart has been so lonely. No-din, fill it and my life with your sweetness!”

Before she could refuse Echohawk's proposal, Mariah felt the press of his lips against hers, so warm and soft, yet demanding, for a moment frightening her.

She welcomed the lethargic feeling of floating and swooning, glad to forget everything but Echohawk and the way he made her realize that she was very much a woman.

How fiercely Echohawk wanted Mariah, yet he fought against going too quickly with her. She was inexperienced, hardly more than a girl in her innocence. It was easy to tell that she had not yet been with a man intimately, and he wanted the experience to be something that she looked back on with pleasure. He wanted her to desire such a union as badly as he. Their future would be filled with such moments, for he would not take no for an answer when he again asked her to marry him!

As he continued to kiss her, he slowly snaked his hand up inside her dress and cupped her at the juncture of her thighs, where he could feel the pulsing at the center of her passion. As he began to caress her there, he felt her body tremble, her gasp of alarm against his lips.

But he did not pull his hand away. He continued to gently stroke her, smiling to himself when he felt her relaxing, and now emitting soft sighs against his lips.

Mariah was becoming weak, her senses dazzled by his skills of awakening her to passion. His hand was where no other man's hands had been before, and his other hand—it was lifting her dress slowly up away from her.

She knew that she should stop this madness that had begun between them.

But she was too full of strange, wondrous desire to turn her back on whatever else lay ahead these next wondrous moments with the man that she loved with all of her heart.

Echohawk leaned slightly away from Mariah in order that he could remove her dress. Then, once it was tossed aside and his hands were smoothing over her body, feeling her slim, graceful loveliness with his fingers, excitement leapt inside him. His hands moved to her breasts and cupped them, his lips lowering to a nipple, nipping it with his teeth.

Mariah's heart raced, her breathing almost out of control. She was acutely aware of Echohawk's body as he now knelt beside her and discarded all his clothes. Mariah's face heated with a blush as she gazed down at his manhood, the first time she'd ever seen this part of a man's anatomy.

Something strange happened at the pit of her stomach, as though someone had set a fire within her, when he began to move his hand in slow strokes over his hardness. It was such a seductive sight, and Mariah realized by the way his jaw tightened and the muscles of his legs corded that what he was doing must be intensely pleasurable.

Boldly, as though he silently beckoned her to, Mariah crept to her knees and replaced his hand with hers, her heart leaping when she felt the heat of his velvety shaft, and how it seemed to jump with a life of its own as she began moving her hand on him.

She watched his expression as his eyes closed and his teeth gritted together, wondering how anything could feel that wonderful, to cause such a reaction.

Suddenly Echohawk placed his hands to her shoulders. “
Mee-eewh
, enough,” he said huskily. “It is time to share our pleasure. It is time to fit our bodies together as one.”

Little stabs of warmth ran through Mariah and she felt a strange new sensation rise in her as his hands slid down her back, cupping her buttocks. Slowly Echohawk laid her down on the soft pelts, then moved over her.

Trembling, she let him part her thighs and caress the damp valley, unleashing waves of weakness in her lower limbs. She was acutely aware of his pulsating hardness, now pressed against her thigh.

And when he parted her legs with a knee and she felt the first burning touch of his hardness at the center of her passion, she melted into him.

As he slowly entered her, coaxing sweetness from her, Echohawk kissed her again, his mouth forcing her lips apart, his tongue hungrily surging between her teeth.

She felt herself surrendering to him, thrilling to every nuance of his lovemaking. She did not even cry out with the shock of his first plunge inside her. A sharp pain only momentarily robbed her senses of pleasure, before she once again abandoned herself to a wild ecstasy.

Sculpturing himself to her moist body, Echohawk anchored Mariah fiercely still as he pressed endlessly deeper inside her. She knew that the passion he offered her would overshadow any pain that she had felt.

His hands moved down her body and cupped her buttocks, relishing their softness, then urged her hips into his, glad when she strained toward him on her own. Their naked bodies sucked at each other, flesh against flesh in a gentle rhythm.

A surge of ecstasy welled within Mariah, filling her, spilling over and drenching her with a sweet warmth. She twined her arms around Echohawk's neck and clung to him as she felt a great shudder in his loins and then experienced an incredible splash of bliss, crying out at her fulfillment as his body subsided exhaustedly into hers.

Stunned by the intensity of the feelings that had overwhelmed her, like white heat traveling through her veins, she lay within Echohawk's arms, breathing raggedly. She was afraid that if either of them moved, she would discover that all of this had been of her imagination, caused by her longing to be free to love this handsome Chippewa.

But when he stirred and slid away from her, yet only as far as to lie at her side, one of his hands still on one of her breasts as though it belonged there, she realized that, yes, all of this had been real enough.

“My
ee-quay
, woman,” Echohawk said, his voice deep and husky. He drew Mariah next to him, her breasts pressed into his hard chest. He ran his fingers along her delicate facial features. “I cannot see you clearly with my eyes, but you are quite real in my arms and in my heart, and that is enough. Stay with me. Warm my bed every night until we are old and gray. Say that you will gladly be my wife.”

Mariah was glad that he could not see her at this moment. He would see the tears of regret in her eyes—regret for loving him so much and knowing that he should despise her!

Echohawk saw her hesitation in agreeing to be his wife. He was troubled by this, yet thought that perhaps she was carrying some pain in her heart at leaving her people forever. He would no longer press her for answers. He smiled to himself, knowing there was truly no need. Yet he would give her time to go and release her own sorrows within the peaceful confines of the forest and then reveal to her that she had already become his wife, through their own private ceremony tonight.

They lay within each other's arms, for the moment blissfully content. For Mariah it had been proved tonight that no matter to what lengths her father had gone to turn her into a man, she was every inch a woman. And she owed it all to Echohawk. He had brought out the true woman in her.

And, oh, how she adored him!

Chapter 14

—Behn

 

 

 

Feeling herself to be part of a magical dream when she awoke in Echohawk's arms at daybreak, Mariah now rode beside him away from his village. She liked the feel of the horse beneath her again. There was something about being on a horse, the feeling of freedom that it evoked, as though for that time, at least, she was the master of her own destiny.

Her gaze went to Echohawk, who rode tall in his saddle, the fringes of his buckskin shirt and breeches lifting gently in the breeze. He had said that their plans for today were special, but had yet to tell her exactly what these plans were.

But she had noticed that he had taken a much different weapon with him today. A spear. It seemed their hunt today would be for much larger prey than birds.

She turned her eyes away from Echohawk, just enjoying the moment, knowing that he would tell her in good time what their destination was. It was just enough for her that she was with him today, and at his very own request. He had told her that he trusted her and her skills with a horse and a gun, even though he was still amazed and puzzled by her prowess.

His confidence in her made her proud. Without knowing it, her father had taught her skills that had saved the very Indian he had wanted dead!

Mariah smiled to herself, feeling anything but manly today. In her mind's eye she replayed last night's love scene, thrilling inside as though she were experiencing it again at this very moment.

And the dress she wore today was so utterly feminine—fashioned from snow-white doeskin, designed intricately with many-colored beads, and fitting her snugly, like a glove. She knew that Echohawk would be quite taken by her appearance if he could see clearly.

She glanced at him again, saddened by his impaired eyesight.

Not wanting to get into feelings again that could ruin this special time with Echohawk, though, she wrenched her eyes away from him and blocked out sad thoughts by observing the wonders of this land that lay on all sides of her. The sunrise mist was hanging above the river and somber hills. Small cottonwood trees of sleepy sparrows swayed in the morning wind. Two pheasants stood in a forest of sunflowers. And broad, jagged leaves of wild grape vines rustled in the wind.

Mariah's lips parted with a gasp when not so far in the distance she saw what looked like hundreds of antelope and buffalo grazing amidst patches of red, brown, and gold wildflowers called
gaillardias
, or Indian blankets.

She was not at all surprised when Echohawk reached a hand toward her as he drew his horse to a shuddering halt.

“Do my eyes see correctly?” he said, squinting as he peered ahead. “Is that not many buffalo grazing in that valley?”

“Buffalo
and
antelope,” Mariah said, still marveling at the sight. “Echohawk, I have never seen so many!”

“That is good,” Echohawk said, smiling confidently. He motioned with a hand. “
Mah-bee-szhon
, come. We shall settle ourselves close by until one strays from the others. Then I will show you the worth of my spear!”

“It is the buffalo you are hunting today?” Mariah said, paling. “Now I understand why you didn't tell me earlier. You were afraid that I would try to talk you out of corning.”

“And was I right to think that?” Echohawk said, his lips tugging into a smile. “Would you have tried to convince me not to come?”

“You know that I would have,” Mariah said, sighing heavily. “And it is not too late to turn back. Echohawk, I have never killed a buffalo before. And what if your eyes aren't as accurate as when hunting birds? When missed, birds do not attack. Buffalo do! Certainly I am not the right person to back you up, should you miss.”

“But the size of the prey counts for something valuable,” Echohawk tried to convince her. “Do you not recall my accuracy at shooting the blue-winged teal? It was small, Mariah, and we carried one home for a hearty meal, did we not? The buffalo is a large beast, making a wide target. When I aim, I will not miss. I am very practiced, so much so that even if I closed my eyes, I would still find the animal with my spear. I have brought home many buffalo for my people in my lifetime. They find many uses of the buffalo, not only for food but also for household utensils.”

“But, Echohawk, still—”

Echohawk interrupted. “Now, follow me. We shall position ourselves down by the river. When a buffalo strays and comes to the river for a drink of water, we shall be there, ready.”

Knowing that it was no use to try to argue further with him, Mariah followed his lead and led her horse to a narrow steep-sided ravine and dismounted. She and Echohawk secured their horses behind a boulder and thick stands of forsythia bushes, then hurried away from them and crouched down in the ravine, scarcely visible.

In the ravine, the river only footsteps away behind her, Mariah thought the air seemed colder, sending chills across her flesh. She hugged herself, her teeth chattering, then was warmed clear through when Echohawk placed his arm around her and drew her next to him. In his other hand he held the spear.

“
Wi-yee-bah
, soon,” he whispered. “We will have company soon. There is always a curious one that strays from the others. If not for a drink of water, just to see if the grass is greener. The mild weather has kept the buffalo close by, and made hunting easier.”

“How will you know it is near if we cannot see it?” Mariah worried aloud. “I . . . I do not feel at all comfortable about this, Echohawk.”

“No-din, have faith in your man,” Echohawk said, placing a finger beneath her chin, drawing her face around. He squinted in concentration, again so wishing that he could see her features! In his mind's eye he had already seen her—but that was not enough.

Mariah searched his face, then looked intensely into his dark eyes, seeing their blankness as he peered down at her. “I'm sorry,” she murmured. “I don't mean to make you feel less a man by my complaining. Forgive me, Echohawk.”

His mouth covering her lips in a passionately hot kiss was his response. His kiss was all-consuming, setting fires within her that threatened to rob her of her senses. She was relieved when he drew away from her, her heart having almost gone out of control with its erratic beatings.

“No more talk now,” he said, smoothing a hand across her cheek. “We must be quiet or the buffalo will go elsewhere.”

Mariah nodded and knelt beside him, quietly admiring Echohawk, both for his determination to prove his worth even with half his eyesight, and because he was so magnificent to look at, especially now, as he moved not a muscle, only the wind lifting a lock of his hair, then laying it back along his neck. His jaw was tight with determination, his eyes two points of fire.

Oh, how she loved him . . . how she admired him!

Echohawk scarcely breathed, taut with the excitement of the hunt. He felt as though he were the lord of the universe. For him the universe was this landscape today, the vast Minnesota wilderness. For him there was no possibility of existence elsewhere.

Suddenly there was a blowing—a rumble of breath deeper than the wind.

Wide-eyed, her heart racing, Mariah looked quickly over at Echohawk, then looked up when overhead some of the hard clay of the bank broke off and some clods rolled down, scarcely missing hers and Echohawk's heads.

“It is here,” Echohawk said in a whisper that resembled a hiss. “Do not move, No-din. Just watch.”

Then there appeared on the skyline just to the left of where Mariah and Echohawk crouched, watching . . . waiting, the massive head of a long-horned buffalo, then the hump, then the whole beast, huge and black against the sky, standing to a height of seven feet at the hump, with horns that extended six feet across the shaggy crown. For a moment it was poised there; then it lumbered obliquely down the bank to the river.

Still Echohawk and Mariah did not move, though the huge beast was now only a few steps upwind. There was no sign of what was about to happen.

The buffalo meandered.

Mariah and Echohawk were frozen in anticipation.

Then, as Mariah watched in awe, the scene exploded.

In one and the same instant Echohawk sprang to his feet and bolted forward, his arm cocked, the spear held high.

The huge animal lunged in panic, bellowing. Its whole weight was thrown violently into the bank, its hooves churning and chipping earth into the air. Its eyes were wide, wild, and white.

Its awful frenzy caused it to become mired and helpless in its fear.

Echohawk hurled the spear with his whole strength, and the point was driven into the deep, vital flesh of the buffalo. The animal, in its agony, staggered, crashed down, and was dead.

Mariah was stunned silent by the performance, her eyes glued to the animal. Then her awe of Echohawk was so intense, she moved her gaze to him and her insides quavered with a giddy warmth as he stood over the animal, his chest swelled with pride.

Scrambling to her feet, Mariah went to Echohawk and lunged into his arms. “You did it,” she murmured. “Oh, Echohawk, you did it!”

Then she leaned away from him. “I knew that you could,” she said, smiling sheepishly up at him.

Echohawk chuckled, knowing that her pretense was too obvious, but understanding why. He drew her close and gave her a soft kiss. “Before taking the largest portion of the beast back to my people, we shall have a private feast ourselves,” he said. “But we must wait until the other buffalo wander onward.”

Mariah gazed down at the buffalo, then back up at Echohawk. “My, but he is huge,” she murmured.

“A beast his size feeds many mouths on a cold winter's day in our village,” he said reverently. But these animals are dwindling in number because of the arrival of the white man. It is impossible to understand how they can kill without reason.”

Mariah sighed heavily, again reminded of her father's slaughters. Then she forced such thoughts aside. She was no longer a part of that life. She gazed up at Echohawk, wishing that she had half his courage. If she did, she would confess so many things to him.

* * *

Mariah sat comfortably on thick pelts beneath the lean-to that Echohawk had fashioned from a blanket, having attached it to the side of a cliff that he and Mariah had found close to the ravine. He had collected a dozen large stones and laid them across the spot chosen for a fire. The fire had been quickly kindled, and over it cooked a steak cut from the yet-warm flank of the animal he had slain. While the steak was cooking, Echohawk cuddled Mariah close to his side and sang to her.

Enraptured, warmed not only by the campfire but also by Echohawk's strong arms around her, Mariah listened as he sang of his homeland, of the flowers, birds and animals he'd known and loved all his life. His songs were of the wild wind, which he called a good old man, and of the sweet little bluebells of the forest. He sang to a bird he called Little Black Breast and to the buffalo his people revered. It was a time of wondrous peace and love, undisturbed by thoughts that could destroy the moment.

And when his last song had faded into the wind, Echohawk eased Mariah downward, her back pressing into the soft pelts spread beneath her. “My woman, let us stay here forever,” Echohawk said huskily, smoothing Mariah's dress down from her shoulders, freeing her breasts. “Let us pretend there are no worries, no sorrows, no tomorrows filled with bitternesses. There is only us, only today. . . .”

Mariah sucked in a breath of wild ecstasy and closed her eyes when he leaned over her and covered the nipple of one of her breasts with his mouth. He teased its taut peak, his hands roaming her body.

Her head spinning, she was hardly aware of how they became fully unclothed, or that the day was dimming, a heavy chill slicing the air. All she knew was that Echohawk had moved his body over hers, molding himself perfectly to the curved hollow of her hips.

She stifled a sob against his muscled shoulder as he pressed gently into her, then began moving within her in a steady rhythm. She lifted her hips to him, taking him even more deeply, and rocked and swayed with him.

She locked her arms around his neck and drew his mouth to her lips. She trembled with passion as he kissed her long and hard, his hands at her breasts, softly kneading them.

Caught in passion's embrace, she felt her entire body responding to his loving her, all of her senses yearning for the promise he offered.

Gasps echoed like thunder throughout her when again his lips moved to her breast, sucking on her nipple until it throbbed. She thrust her pelvis toward him, now only half-aware of making whimpering sounds, and then a surge of ecstasy raged and washed over her, and she again reached the ultimate experience a man and a woman can share.

Echohawk had been holding his own pleasure back, wanting it to linger until he was near the bursting point. He smiled to himself when he sensed her intense pleasure, glad that again he had been able to pull her into that realm of sheer bliss.

Breathing hard, his loins on fire, Echohawk withdrew from inside Mariah and moved into another position that she was not familiar with, yet she knew that she had much to learn—and Echohawk seemed to be the most masterful teacher!

Echohawk stretched out on his back and very gently moved Mariah so that her face was only a heartbeat away from his throbbing hardness. Placing his hands on each side of her face, he urged her lips to him.

Mariah recoiled at the thought of what he seemed to want her to do, yet, loving him so much, and wanting to please, she thrust her tongue out and briefly touched his satin hardness. When she heard his groan of pleasure and watched his expression become passion consumed, she resumed with what she knew had to be perhaps the keenest pleasure of all.