When Nicolas finally pulled away, his ragged breathing matched hers as he stared into her upturned face.
He whistled, a sound so soft and short, it was almost imperceptible, but it brought Diablo out from the brush. “Can you pull yourself up?” he asked, holding the bridle.
“I … I don’t know,” she admitted.
He swung into the saddle, then bent down and helped her up, pulling her in front of him. “Hang on to the horn,” he ordered, bringing her tightly against him.
Anna closed her eyes and tried to block out the feeling of his hard chest against her back. When his arms came around her to handle the reins, she shivered and snuggled against him, moving her arms up as he imprisoned her torso with his.
Feelings of passion and need flooded her, and her head lolled back against his shoulder. Her nipples, pushed against her soft muslin corset cover, tingled as his arms pressed against the full sides of her breasts. The constant friction against her mound from the smooth swell of the saddle sent heat rushing there, and she clamped her lips together to keep from whimpering with delight.
Taking both reins in one hand, Nicolas brought his free hand around and circled her stomach, a movement that caused her breasts to rest on his arm and her head to relax against his shoulder. His breath was a whisper against her ear, and gooseflesh that had nothing to do with the cold broke out over her skin.
She felt him against her buttocks, and her pelvis filled with the heavy rush of blood that accompanies desire. As she unconsciously pushed back against him, he pushed forward, and her heart knocked against her ribs at his answering response.
When they reached the cabin, Nicolas dismounted and lifted her to the ground, holding her loosely in his arms, just close enough so she could feel the tip of his manhood through his breechcloth. Passion tumbled over her in heavy, swelling waves.
“You need a fire,” he whispered into her hair.
One is already burning inside me. She pulled away from him and stumbled into the cabin.
He came in behind her, closed the door, then went to the hearth and stoked up the fire. She stood by the door, still shivering as she watched him work. When he finally turned, tall and proud, with thick muscular shoulders and arms and rock-hard legs, he looked as if he’d stepped from the pages of some pagan legend. Above the primitive breechcloth was a thick profusion of black hair—a sign of the hard masculinity secreted behind the soft, pliable buckskin. Anna’s nostrils flared, and she was suddenly confused by the rampant, uninhibited need that rushed over her.
He crossed to the shelf in the corner, pulled off a blanket of rabbit pelts and spread it before the fire. “Come here,” he ordered softly.
She continued to shiver, unable to move, unable to take her eyes off him. When he approached her and began unbuttoning her corset cover, she stilled his hands, suddenly feeling modest.
He gave her a small smile. “All right,” he said quietly. “You do it.”
She blushed, but turned away from him and walked to the darkened corner by her bed. Slipping out of her chemise and her drawers, she put on her dressing gown, which Nicolas had laid across her bedding. When she’d finished, she turned and found him watching her.
“Come on,” he urged again, picking up the towel that had dropped to the floor. “You need to dry your hair.”
She crossed to the blanket, where he gently pushed her down. He then sat behind her and rubbed her hair with the towel. Closing her eyes, she sighed. She couldn’t believe this tender, gentle Nicolas was the same man who had coldly pushed her away after their first kiss.
The heat from the fire dried her hair quickly. Anna ran her fingers through the golden mass again, then shook it out around her shoulders.
Then his fingers were moving through the hair at her neck, making her tremble.
“You have the hair of a temptress,” he whispered.
She closed her eyes, waiting, wanting more.
“Look,” he ordered quietly.
She opened her eyes to see a handful of curls in his fist. He fanned the curls out, allowing them both to look through her hair at the blazing glow of the fire.
“Gold,” he said. “Spun gold. Hair that would make Rapunzel weep with envy.”
In spite of her heightened desire, Anna smiled at his comparison.
“Anna, Anna, let down your hair,” he whispered into her ear before he pulled up her golden mass, bent low and kissed the back of her neck.
The nerves to her nipples went wild. She could feel them shrinking the size of her areolas, tightening her breasts. So much was happening to her body. Confusion and arousal clamored over her skin.
“Will you, sweet Anna?” He brought his hand around to the front of her gown, where he stopped to finger the satin trim.
She wanted to pull his hand to her naked breast, but knew she couldn’t. It wasn’t allowed, wasn’t proper. …
“Will you remove your prim schoolmistress mask, sweet Anna?” He put his hand inside her robe and palmed her breast, running his callused thumb over her turgid nipple.
Anna closed her eyes and pressed her lips over her teeth, hoping the pain would take her mind off the wonderfully arousing sensations he was creating. She could feel herself swell, and knew she was wet.
“Will you let down your hair, my sweet? Will you fly at me like a tigress before she lifts her tail for her mate?”
His earthy talk fed the hunger deep inside her. His hand left her breast and drifted down over her abdomen, gently brushing across her mound. She choked back the moan of desire trapped in her throat.
She rolled her head against his shoulder, then turned until her forehead touched his chin. Slowly she raised her face to his. She could see herself in his eyes as the fire in front of them flared higher and hotter.
Nicolas touched her lips with his tongue.
She opened for him eagerly, willingly, pulling him in, matching his tongue strokes. She drew in a ragged breath when his mouth left hers and went to her neck, then to her shoulder, where he kissed her gently, reverently. She drew herself up tall and lifted her breasts toward him, hoping he would comply and lave them with his lips and his tongue.
“Get on your knees,” he whispered, “and face me.”
Anna turned and rose to her knees between his legs. She allowed herself an anticipatory shudder as he pulled her robe off her shoulders and down her arms. She tried to shrug out of the garment so she could be free to touch him.
“No.” He stilled her arms, then ran his hands up to her shoulders, across her shoulder blades, down to the tops of her aching, needy breasts.
The light from the fire sharpened the angles of his face, and she desperately yearned to kiss his puckered scar. “Nicolas …” Her voice was soft, pleading, husky with longing.
He moved his thumbs down to the valley between her breasts, separating them and lifting them up while he bent his head to kiss them.
“So sweet.” He pulled one hard, thrusting nipple into his mouth, causing Anna to become dizzy with desire and sway toward him. She shrugged out of her robe and pressed her hand against his firm, hard shoulder while he moved to her other breast. “So pink,” he added before flicking the other nipple with his tongue.
Anna didn’t believe such desire was possible. The delicious throbbing between her legs sent her pelvis in search of a mate, and she ached for him to touch her there. She moved her hand down to his chest and ran her fingers through his hair. His flesh was hard and warm. The fire in her ignited and flared hotter than the flames on the grate.
Nicolas released her nipple and sat back, his gaze hot as he caressed her with his eyes. “Your breasts are beautiful. Your nipples perfect for sucking … for nursing many babies.” He touched them again, admiring them with his hands.
She leaned into him and dropped one hand to wander up the hard, firm muscle of his thigh. She heard his sharp intake of breath as she gently raked her fingernails along the sensitive area on the inner surface of his knee.
Suddenly he pulled
her hand away, and Anna’s heart dropped.
“Lie down,” he said softly, reinforcing her need, erasing her fear. “Let me look at you.”
She did his bidding and stretched out before him, all pale and golden. Her eyes held pleading and arousal. Her lips, slightly open, formed his name, but no sound came out.
He ran his palms down over her breasts, lifting them from the sides and pushing them together before he pressed his face into the soft, white flesh.
He raised his head, devouring her with his gaze. Conquest blazed in his eyes as her pelvis thrust toward him, inviting him into her wet, swollen delta.
But he took his time. He softly dragged his fingertips over her stomach. She could feel his breath fluffing the soft, fine hair that covered her mound. Another rush of heat fanned through her and she lifted herself off the floor, digging her heels into the rug.
Then his lips were on the nerve-rich skin low on her belly. Surprise returned quickly to passion, and she moaned, grabbing fistfuls of fur with each hand and rolling her head back and forth on the blanket as the tiny bud throbbed. He skirted the seat of her pleasure, kissing her skin, laving the small birthmark below her navel with his tongue, heightening her need.
She continued to grab and release handfuls of fur. Her legs scissored wildly until he pressed both of her knees to the blanket.
He gently feathered his fingers across the triangle of hair that he’d so recently kissed.
“Even here you are golden,” he said softly. “And your passion is high, for there are tiny love droplets at the opening of your secret place.”
Anna felt tears of need roll across her temples when he touched the soft hair that guarded her womanhood. He slipped his finger inside her, and she gasped, raising her pelvis off the rug to meet his hand. Their eyes locked in a hot embrace as her wet, swollen nether lips closed around his finger, drawing it deeper, contracting around it.
Her breathing became an erratic clamor. When Nicolas moved away, she bit her lips to keep from crying out the feeling of loss. But he only stripped off his breechcloth, and when he returned to her, he put his knees between her legs and lowered himself over her.
“I will be gentle, sweet Anna.”
She reached for him. He rested his hands on the blanket and locked his elbows. Their eyes clung. Then he glanced down at where they would soon be joined. “Look,” he whispered.
Anna raised her head off the blanket and watched as he rubbed himself seductively over her aching mound.
She came alive under him. Her breathing raged and her pelvis moved against his hard root. She touched his chest and stomach with restless fingers, then moved lower, between their bodies, where her fingers encircled him. Then she guided him eagerly into her waiting warmth.
When he finally entered her, Anna squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her lips together to keep from crying out her pleasure. Oh, it had been so long, so long. And never, never had it been like this. Her passage was tight, but he filled her perfectly, stretching her in a way no other man ever would … or could. She wrapped her legs around his back and pressed her hands against his firm buttocks, as if imprisoning him.
He had barely begun to move inside her when she noticed a change in him. No longer was he gentle. His thrusts became hard and savage and his mouth crushed hers with such intensity she could feel his teeth against her lips.
No! This was wrong, all wrong! She tried to push him away, but he was too big, too heavy … too strong. Then suddenly, in spite of his angry thrusts, she began to feel the fluttering beginnings of release.
He ground against her pelvis and she grabbed his muscled buttocks with both hands, holding him to her, wanting to intensify the arousal. Quivering spasms of surrender rippled out from her center as his vigorous pumping drew her further and further into ecstasy. Suddenly, it was there, and she stiffened beneath him, climaxing again and again until there was nothing left but the need to hold him close until he, too, was spent.
Weak from her release, Anna wrapped her arms around his back and held him tightly against her, not caring that tears of satisfaction coursed down into her hair. “Thank you,” she said softly, running her hands down his broad, naked back and over his tight buttocks. Oh, she wanted to touch him, look at him, linger over their loving …
He rolled over onto his back, bringing Anna with him.
“Nicolas?”
Suddenly he lifted her off him and stood up. She looked at him, her eyes hurt and questioning. Why wouldn’t he answer her? He just stood there, his feet apart and his manhood pushed boldly toward her.
Silent, he reached down and pulled on his breechcloth. As he walked to the door, he said with deadly calm, “I hope you’re satisfied.” Before Anna could blink, he was gone.
Slowly, as if in a dream, she slipped into her dressing gown, never taking her eyes off the door. She knew if she started to cry, she wouldn’t be able to stop. Taking a deep breath, she stood up and dragged herself to the bed. When she’d climbed under the covers, all of her firm resolve fled, and she began to sob.
As she rolled over on her side, her father’s voice hammered inside her head: Whore! Whore! Before she finally slipped into a thrashing, restless sleep, she vowed never, ever to let this happen to her again.
Chapter Ten
Anna stood poised in front of the class, hoping her red, puffy eyes weren’t obvious to the children. She walked back and forth in front of them, waiting for them to finish the few problems she’d assigned, and tried not to think about Nicolas or the way he’d left her the night before.
But she did think about it, fighting the tears that again stung her eyes. She didn’t understand him. It didn’t seem to matter how she responded to him, he always went away angry.
Taking a deep breath, she tried to think of something else. Like her promise to herself not to be hurt or used by anyone ever again. So far, that promise was empty, but she was certainly going to work on it.
She checked the time and forced herself to smile at the children. “Time’s up for those questions. Now, Two Leaf? Number three. If I sell a goat for eight dollars, how many goats will bring me ninety-six dollars?”
Two Leaf stood up and was about to answer when Nicolas entered the room. He pulled the door shut behind him and stood at the back, glowering at her, his arms folded across his chest and his feet wide apart.
Anna’s already wavering mood slipped lower the minute she looked at his face. His wide, brown forehead was furrowed, his heavy eyebrows low over his eyes.
She still didn’t understand why he was so angry. After all, her foolish hunger had given him what he’d wanted. Somehow she knew that if she hadn’t been hysterical because of the bear, she’d never have allowed herself to succumb to desire. At least, she liked to believe she was at least that strong.
She glanced up at him and met his hard, cold glare. The knowledge that he was thinking about the same thing she was sent her heart plummeting. Well, that was fine. Just fine. Last night had been a terrible mistake. It wouldn’t happen again.
His scowling presence was disrupting her classroom. “I’m sorry,” she said to him in her starchiest, schoolmarm demeanor. “We haven’t finished our lesson yet.”
His face was like stone. “Take your time.” His voice was strained, tight. “The stories can wait.”
She immediately recognized the brooding Nicolas she’d known before, only if possible, he was colder. She couldn’t allow her feelings to show in front of the children, and she knew that if he didn’t leave immediately, she was going to do something stupid in spite of her attempted indifference, like cry.
“No,” she said softly. They were behind in their lessons because she hadn’t slept until almost dawn, and then she’d overslept. “The children have been waiting for you.”
Anna dismissed class and watched with a wistful smile as the children carefully placed their slates atop one another and eagerly filed out after Nicolas. Her smile disappeared. No matter what he did or said to her, the children would
always love him.
“Miss Anna?” Two Leaf stood by the door.
“Yes?”
“You comin’?”
Anna sighed. “No, not today, Two Leaf. I’m afraid I have too much work to do.”
The boy accepted her flimsy excuse and ran to catch up with the pack.
She went to the window and gazed at Nicolas’s broad back. A queer feeling of longing ate at her stomach and fluttered even lower, but she closed her eyes and forced herself to think of something else. Dragging herself back to her desk, she tried to clear her mind. She flipped through a reader, trying to find a clever approach to an arithmetic problem she knew was next in their studies.
Your breasts are beautiful
She shook her head, cleared her throat and attempted to concentrate on the words in front of her.
Your nipples perfect for sucking … for nursing many babies … many babies … many babies.
She took a deep breath and held it as long as she was able, then forced the air out between her lips.
You are even golden here, m your secret woman’s place.
The memory brought a throbbing to her womanhood, and she pressed her legs together, hoping to quell the feeling.
I hope you’re satisfied …
The cold, cruel remark washed away any hint of desire, but she found it impossible to work. An hour later she still sat there, her pencil poised over her papers and her eyes misting with tears.
Anna had spent the afternoon at the river, watching the children swim. The ease with which they took to the water still amazed her. On the way back to the compound, she’d let herself think about the baby she’d lost, and her teary expression wasn’t lost on June, who passed on her concern to Summer.
After Anna helped Summer get dressed, they walked to the work area under the trees. Anna hesitated when she saw Nicolas sitting at the wooden table, laughing with Sky. When he saw her coming toward them, his smile disappeared, but he greeted her pleasantly and introduced her to his friend.
Anna felt a blush steal into her cheeks as she acknowledged the introduction. She knew Sky was remembering the first time he’d seen her, for his eyes lit up and his smile was too friendly.
Secrets of a Midnight Moon--The Moon Trilogy--Book One Page 15
