by Rita Hestand
"This isn't a dream, is it?" She whispered not with fear but of expectations.
"No, relax, and I will pleasure you," he whispered between kisses and she pulled him closer for another kiss. White-hot desire speared through them as they began moving together now. Shock riveted through him as she moved toward and not away.
His hand made its way to her inner core.
~*~
Her mouth opened in awe of the moment. His strokes were so gentle and endlessly arousing. His hands moved to gently ready her for what was to come. Never had she experienced such a wonderful enlightenment.
All the ugly cruel moments with her husband faded into oblivion now, as Hawk retaught her the art of making love with a man.
Her eyes glazed with undeniable desire from his exquisite torture. He stared down at her, caressing her with his eyes. He opened her shirt slowly. She waited with baited breath to see what he might do next. His eyes gazed upon her with such pleasure that her heart hammered when she looked at him. A pleasure she'd never witnessed with her husband. He had never wanted to look upon her like that.
"To look upon you is heaven." He whispered, his hand slowly uncovered one breast, as his thumb absently feathered the nipple. She closed her eyes again, memorizing the feel, the touch, the smell, the heat. She gasped from the slightest touch of his hand.
She felt the wet between her legs that had never happened before, she felt the heat from her own body, but what she saw in his eyes mesmerized her.
No man had ever looked at her like that. She closed her eyes, and he fondled her breasts.
Every kiss, every touch, every movement was for her pleasure. How could she refuse him now?
When she opened her eyes, there was no fear, only a heated desire. Not lust, but true desire. His head bent, and his lips covered a slightly swollen nipple. She moaned aloud this time, unable to stifle the erotic touches of his mouth. The way his tongue massaged the ache at her breasts had her molding herself against him. She held him tightly now, not wanting him to stop, not knowing where it would go. Her hands were on his massive shoulders now, and the satin of his skin.
Alarm bells should have gone off. Perhaps, maybe!
She shook her head, but the boldness of his touch, and the look in his eyes as he glanced at her, sent a wave of sensations through her like she'd never known. This man wanted her, needed her, and openly desired her. It was a heady knowledge for her to take in.
How could she refuse his gentle taking of her?
It had never been this way with Harold, her mind skidded, trying to find reason. He had mounted her, taken his own needs and dismounted. There was no lovemaking. Even his kisses had been harsh, unrelenting and emotionless. She had come not to expect it. However, this strange and wonderful pleasure Hawk gave was nothing like that. He supped her lips, and then her nipples as his hand stayed ever busy. He cupped her buttocks and tugged her toward him.
His touches sent her reeling. She wanted his taking.
Stripped of all the barriers of propriety, she ached for some unknown fulfillment. His hands slid over her belly slowly, as though he were memorizing her, and then lower, slowly edging his way to her womanhood. She panted her eyes big and round, her body throbbing with a need. Spreading her thighs, she welcomed him, as his hand curled into her, his fingers exploring the warm, wet recess of her inner core. Instead of entering her, his head dipped to kiss her there.
Desire exploded through her.
He could have just taken her, and been done with it.
Never in all her years had she ever expected such uncontrolled ecstasy. She moaned raggedly, squeezing his head with her legs. She bent to the throes of passion. Her head going back and forth as her body throbbed with eager anticipation. She grabbed his hair and hung on as she wrapped her legs around him. She almost screamed, not out of fear, but out of joy of such a release. She was lost to a world she'd never known. How could this be? It was so wonderful, her mind screamed at her.
She extended her body toward him eagerly, as an offering to him. She prodded him onward with his movements allowing him every access to her body.
He rose up, stared at her and, spreading her shirt wide so he could see her, all of her; he sighed and smiled into her face. His eyes feasted on her. "You are so beautiful. We must be one…You are a virgin to love." He murmured. Her eyes closed and she moaned the ecstasy that his hand created when he touched her nipples with his thumbs. Her breasts tingled. How could he be so gentle and so big at the same time? She squirmed, unable to stifle the slight moans. Fire spread through her like a hot spear. Her eyes wide, her mouth opened. Her body readied itself for him.
He felt her move beneath him and it shocked him. He suddenly realized she was trying to scramble away. He began to kiss her once more, first her mouth, and then slowly down her neck. Suddenly he pushed her blouse off removing it, and throwing it to the side. He snuggled his nose against her breast, his tongue feathering the tips of her nipples until she brought herself against him. When his heated arousal plunged into her deeply, she moved toward him, instead of against him. Their union was a welcome reprieve from the torture of his erotic touches. His eyes stared as passion overrode common sense and she was plunged into some wild, erotic pleasure. His mouth smothered her nipple once more, flicking his tongue gently over her, slowly, erotically stripping her of the need to cry out, and yet, needs rippled through her body like a tidal wave. Lost for the moment, she rode some epic tide within her.
Gently he rolled her over so she was on top, and he encouraged her to enjoy the moment.
"Be free…let it go…enjoy it." He encouraged. "Don't fight it. You are mine now."
Suddenly, his words sank into her heart. His expression was a strange mixture of desire and something more. He told her everything would be all right. She threw back her head, held herself proudly, and moved with him with such abandon he could only smile into her face. She allowed him a bold look, and he absorbed her with it.
She forgot who she was, where she was, only that the needs outweighed anything else. Her body was a slave to his driving force. His movements were slow, provocative and yet driving himself deeper inside her. She felt her own muscle begin to work to pull him closer. Her body welcomed him, her muscles clutching him, enticing him onward.
The heat of the moment consumed them, and suddenly she forgot to struggle, but clung to him as his seed spilled within her and the moment raised her to a new level. Never had she experienced the pleasure of making love with a man. She reached a peak and held on, as they shuddered against each other wildly. Stars were in her eyes, a smile of such complete contentment swept over her as she clung to him, sighing with such satisfaction. She kissed his chest as she came down from the high.
The union was glorious, and once satiated, they collapsed into each other's arms.
He kissed her once more, as his hand rested against her pert nipple. He smiled with contentment. He'd never imagined such a coming together, but he would keep it in his heart forever.
~*~
They slept for some time, in each other's arms. Yet when her nipple became swollen and hard against his palm, he opened his eyes, and kissed her deeply. She turned herself into him, welcoming his kisses. Knowing she was asleep, he opened his eyes and kissed her nose. Shocked that he had let it go that far, he pulled away. She laid limp now, her face relaxed in repose, her breasts rising and falling so quickly, and he realized he had satiated the years of yearning in one moment, for both of them.
He covered her, kissed her sweet lips, and started to roll over to go to sleep. He stared into her lovely face, where the throws of passion still lingered, like a soft after thought. He kissed her lips softly. "Now they won't touch you," he whispered, kissed her nose and rolled over.
To pretend it hadn't happened was impossible, and to pretend he hadn't enjoyed it even more so. Never had he let himself go so easily, nor given so freely of himself to a woman. He couldn't look at her any longer the throes of passion made her even more beautif
ul. Her cheeks were a rosey red, her lips even redder. He knew he should feel shame, but for the life of him, all he felt was a deep abiding love for the woman.
The white man would scourge him from the earth for what he had just done!
The old woman had watched, smiled and nodded to him before he closed his eyes. He had accomplished his goal, to keep her safe, and much more.
He'd found heaven for a moment, and he would remember it forever.
He opened his eyes and saw the old squaw. She was smiling.
Good, he thought finally closing his eyes, the old woman would tell everyone tomorrow that the woman was his and they would leave her alone until his return. That was his intent. However, Hawk knew that his intent had grown into something much more. Perhaps he should feel sorry for her. Yet his memory of her riding the tide with him to the end, made him proud more than sorry. They would never speak of it probably, but he would carry it with him forever.
She didn't know it, but she was his! Their hearts were promised. It was done!
Before he had touched her, he knew it was the only way the others would not have touched her, for she was a captive and to the other braves, fair game. He had to claim her as his. He had to! Nevertheless, the reason he had to, was twofold.
That was his reasoning, but it was what was meant to be.
Before sleep came, he had to admit that their brief but thorough union had given him an inner strength to finish the task before him. He would have to return soon, or they would kill her and the child. She carried his seed now; he would protect her with his life! Her and her children.
Chapter Four
The next morning, when she awoke, he was gone. She felt the void immediately. Eve moved about slowly, her face flushing when she realized what had happened the night before. It wasn't what he had done, but what she had! She responded to him. Anger festered within her. She had trusted him to protect her, but who would protect her from him?
She realized quickly that she had no shirt on now and she grabbed the blanket to cover herself. The old woman smiled and left.
She looked about for her shirt finding it was in a corner. Eve gathered her shirt and put it on quickly.
She sat up and the baby woke up. She climbed in her lap. Eve snuggled against Jane Ann. "Oh darling, I'm so glad you are all right."
She had to wash. The need to wash made her nearly cry. The reality of what she'd done hit her. How could she submit to an Indian? An Indian she had fantasized about for so long.
She was guilty.
The squaw came back in and offered her food. She took it. It was some kind of mush and Eve fed her baby first.
The squaw looked at her and smiled a toothless smile.
Eve tried to be kind, but her shame put her at such a disadvantage. How could she be nice to people who drug her through the forest, and wouldn't let her go? How could she ever trust Hawk again? Yet, the blame was not entirely on him. She had been an active participant. She thought about that.
It was the most glorious moment of her life, and shame had no part of it. She had never known such passion. He had taken innocence from her that shocked and pleased her all in the same breath.
He taught her how to make love, she realized. She'd never made love. Yes, she'd had sex with her husband, cold and hard. Last night was not just sex. That was the problem, and she had participated in it.
Yet guilt plagued her. She should have stopped him. But how do you stop something so wonderful? How do you stop something you've dreamed about a lifetime? If only she hadn't enjoyed it. If only she had the right to be justifiably indignant about it.
How could she face him, if he did come back for her? For her guilt was as great as his sin.
Anger and other emotions warred with her.
He had touched her first, but her shame lie in the fact that she had let him. She hadn't once struggled to be free. She hadn't wanted to be free. She wanted to experience what love felt like. She had to.
At twenty-four with two children, she realized she had finally at last been made love to. Her mother had found this love with her father.
Love?
How could she even think of love? He was an Indian! He took her! She had to quit mixing the two up.
Nevertheless, he hadn't raped her; he'd truly made love with her. Part of her wanted to rejoice. Another part of her wanted to throw a fit and be mad.
He was gone now. He might never return. She had mixed emotions about that too. He consumed her thoughts as she played with Jane Ann for a while, distracting herself from the realities that morning had brought her.
They let her outside to walk around and she saw that there was a creek below. For a moment, she looked around the camp. Women sat weaving baskets, cutting meat to dry for jerky, chewing leather to make moccasins. Every woman in camp was busy doing something. The men seemed to stand in groups, or were busy with their weapons.
She so wanted to bath. She motioned for the squaw to the creek. The squaw nodded.
She walked down to the edge of the water and held Jane Ann by the hand. She peeled the top layers of her clothes off, and then she undressed Jane Ann completely and bathed her. Because there were braves up the hill from her, she left her undergarments on, she splashed water on her and Jane Ann. Jane Ann laughed and splashed back. The pure joy of being alive swamped her for a moment. She was alive, at least. Her children were alive. Perhaps she should just be grateful for her life and her children's. The less she dwelled on what had happened the better off she'd be.
The old squaw smiled. What was it the old squaw was so pleased about?
Other maidens came to the creek to bath too. She watched them and they all found her and Jane Ann interesting. All the maidens jumped into the water, naked. It shocked her. Were Indians more open to their own sexuality? Had she merely stumbled into making love? Perhaps they looked at it differently. That put a new perspective on it.
She couldn't and wouldn't think on it. She had to get sex and making love off her brain. She had to think what might come next, especially if Hawk didn't return.
She hoped her clothes would dry, but they were still wet even though she laid them in the hot sun.
She wondered about Matthew. She didn't want to think too much. He could be lying dead somewhere. That thought brought tears to her eyes.
Surely, Hawk would take care of him, but after last night, she wasn't sure of anything anymore. He wasn't the man she thought him. She wasn't the woman she'd thought of herself, either. How could she have so lost herself in him?
For a woman who feigned liking sex with her husband, she had surely acted out of character last night.
Then she realized she'd never been touched like that before. She'd never enjoyed sex with her husband, and he was the only man that had ever touched her, until now. That feeling of completion had snared her, as she remembered it vividly.
She had lost the faith she had in Hawk and felt a shame come upon her. For the truth was, his touch was gentle and his hands had explored her body blindly. His kisses were sweet and soft and left her wanting more. Dear God, what was she saying? She'd made love with an Indian.
She must have been insane. That was it, she was insane, and none of it was real! Perhaps she'd dreamed it.
However, one glance at the old squaw and she knew the truth.
She'd been with an Indian now, and that was a heavy cloud over her. If the white people ever found out, they would disown her. How could she ever hold her head up again? What would her people think of her now?
What people? She had no people.
Of course, in reality, the only ones that knew she'd lain with an Indian were here and they wouldn't be talking about it to the whites. Therefore, she had no worries there, but she would know and that was enough.
Still, when she recalled the moments between her and Hawk, she blushed at how alive she'd felt. What she was guilty of was enjoying it! Dear God!
She never reached such heights before. She never knew there were any. It seemed t
o change everything.
Determined not to dwell on what had happened, she took full charge of Jane Ann and looked at the maidens. She tried to make them understand they had no clothes to wear.
One maiden came up to her. "I will bring you some, they will not be women's clothes, but they will cover you."
"You speak English?"
"Yes."
"Does anyone else here speak English?" She asked.
"The young ones do we went to mission school on the reservation, until we left. We learned a lot about the white-eyes there." She said. "I will bring them, you wait here."
"Thank you!" Eve called to her.
The young maiden came back about a half hour later with leather pants and a leather-fringed shirt for her to wear.
"My name is Sootka." She said and smiled as she handed her the clothes. "And I brought your baby clothes too. When you dress, I will braid your hair, to keep it out of your way and clean."
"That's a pretty name."
"And yours?"
"Eve. And this is Jane Ann."
The maiden laughed. "She is beautiful."
"Are you married?" Eve asked.
"I was. Yes…"
"Oh…I'm sorry!" Eve saw the distress in her eyes.
"He was a good warrior, he died bravely." She said proudly lifting her chin.
Eve didn't know what to say, because there was a tear in the corner of the young maiden's eyes, but she would not let it fall.
When Eve was finally dressed, she dressed Jane Ann in a little buckskin dress. Eve had to laugh at how cute she looked. "You're a doll!" She said and hugged her.
Sootka helped her braid her hair and gave her a headband to wear. It was beaded and pretty. "Thank you."
Many of the warriors stared at her now.
"Why are they looking at me like that?" Eve asked Sootka.
Sootka smiled with understanding. "They know you belong to the Arapaho, Hawk."
"H-how?" She shrieked. "How do they know that?"
