by Vonna Harper
“Don’t, damn it!” Much as she needed to jump to her feet and flee, she remained where she was. “Don’t let Hawk Spirit win!”
She was still speaking when he threw himself at her, knocking her back onto the ground. This time he wasn’t content to let his size alone dominate her but straddled her, his hands near her shoulders and his knees pressing against her outer thighs. A single, inescapable thought flooded her mind. She was Mato’s prey, and he was about to tear out her throat.
Fighting panic, she reached out. There was only one way of stopping him, and after a frantic moment, she found his cock and began stroking him. As she did, he tilted his head in a way that reminded her of a wolf she’d seen on TV. The creature had been trying to make sense of the cameraman and was simply curious, certainly not afraid. So Mato was still more animal than human, was he? It didn’t matter, because man or animal, she’d reach him. She had to if she wanted to go on living.
Caress him! Feather your fingers over his length and make him even harder.
By the time he was fully erect, his mouth was scant inches away. Much as she wanted to believe he intended to kiss her, his teeth so close to her throat told the true story.
“You’re incredible,” she whispered, her fingers steady on him, and her heart trying to kick out of her chest. “I never had any idea someone like you existed. I—I interviewed a survivalist once who had lived in the woods for years. Although I admired his independence and tenacity, he was half crazy. And in jail for trying to kill a forest ranger.”
Something rippled through Mato, causing her to half believe she’d gotten through to him, but it also could have been Hawk Spirit trying to take back control. If she was in Mato’s position, and some otherworldly force was determined to compel her to do something, what stood the greatest chance of returning her to sanity? The answer, the only one, was simple. Sex.
Still cradling his cock, she trailed her forefinger over the raised veins. In her mind, her finger became an instrument of worship and pleasure giving, and yet she had to fight the mix of fear and fever racing through her own veins.
“Have you thought about that? If you kill me, will you get away with it? If you don’t, you might spend the rest of your life in prison. Think about it, Mato. Never seeing these evergreens again or feeling the sun on your back. No more listening to rain on the roof of your own home or holding the hawk carving your father created.” Shifting her hold, she cupped his satiny tip; hopefully he’d remember what fucking her felt like. “Touching cold bars instead of a woman’s warm body. No longer participating in the ceremonies I believe are so important to your people. Being shut off from them, forgotten.”
He began shaking his head, and although the movement was barely perceptible, it gave her the encouragement she needed to keep going. “The sex you and I’ve had…I’ve never experienced anything like it, and I’d like to believe you haven’t either. There’s been no courtship, no getting to know each other, and yet there’s a bond between us.”
Changing her grip so one hand was on each side of his twitching cock, she extended her fingers to encompass as much of him as possible. If she was still afraid of him, she couldn’t tap into the emotion. Maybe she’d given him a lifeline.
“What is it like to have Hawk Spirit trying to take over? Maybe you so believe in his message that you’re a willing participant, but what about when you want to chart your own course, to live your own life?”
What was that? Another change in him? Wondering at the absolute insanity that had brought them to this time and place in their lives, she let his cock slide through her fingers, only to cup her hands around him again just before he slipped free.
“You have to want self-determination. Who doesn’t? Why do you think I fought the way I did when you caught me? Because this is my body, my responsibility and right.”
Concerned that she might be going too far, she willed indignation out of her voice. After all, what did she know of the relationship between Mato and Hawk Spirit?
“I don’t want to die. There are so many things I want to do with my life, articles to write, vacations to go on.” Not being able to add to the list struck her as incredibly sad, but then she dug deeper and found the courage to tell him more. “I want to become a mother, to raise my children. To love a man and have him by my side while those children are growing up.”
His cock was so swollen she wondered if it was causing him pain, but wasn’t that a lessening of tension in the rest of his body? If something she’d said was responsible…“I want sons,” she whispered. “I’d love my daughters with all my heart, but when I think of my children, I have images of watching them play football, trying to solve disagreements with their fists. I’m not particularly feminine, so maybe that’s why—”
“You’re a woman.”
He hadn’t spoken for so long, seconds passed before she truly heard him. He could have said anything, made fun of her or ordered her to be silent, so those words brought a lump to her throat. Increasing her hold on him, she nodded. “And that complicates things between us, doesn’t it?”
17
A twitch of Mato’s mouth had Smokey thinking he was going to respond. Instead he lowered his head until she could no longer see his features, and though his teeth were closing in on her throat, she made no attempt to free herself. Just the same, she flexed her fingers in silent warning that he wasn’t the only one capable of inflicting damage.
A touch—nothing more than his strength brushing against a vulnerable place and every molecule of her body instantly focusing on the sensation, nerves sparking, bones melting, pussy flooding. Don’t, she wanted to order him, but because she couldn’t lie, she remained silent. The treetops: she’d look at them and think of a wilderness wind, birds singing, leaves rustling, her heart beating.
Then he again ran his teeth over her neck, and she heard herself whimper. Her legs started twitching, and she tried to lift her buttocks off the ground in a wordless and ancient message. As she did, a hawk settled onto the top of the closest tree.
Leave him alone! she silently ordered. Don’t make him into your hired gun; don’t turn him into a killer!
More concerned for Mato than for herself, she released his cock so she could lock her arms around his waist. She tried to pull him down to her, but with his breath dampening her throat, he remained in place, dominating her.
Whatever the hawk was doing made its feathers ripple, but even when it spread its wings and slowly flapped them while still clinging to the branch, she wasn’t afraid. This small creature wasn’t Hawk Spirit, and though Hawk Spirit might be directing the bird’s movements, there was no warning in what it was doing. Maybe it simply wanted to watch the humans below.
Dismissing the predator, she turned her attention back to the man looming over her. Keeping his mouth so close to her had forced his shoulders into an unnatural position. This time she succeeded in lifting her buttocks off the ground, and though her spine felt the strain, she pushed upward until his cock prodded her belly. It would take so little effort on his part to change the alignment so he could reach her opening and push home.
Sex. Yes, that might be her salvation.
What she needed.
Despite the possibility that he’d make her pay for inflicting pain on him, she released his waist and dug her nails into his buttocks. Hissing, he tried to rock to the side, but she refused to let go.
“I’m waiting for you,” she said. “Ready. Do it, just do it.”
“Damn you to hell!”
That wasn’t Mato speaking; she refused to believe that. “Let me open my legs, please. That’s all I’m asking, all I want.”
Instead he reared up and back, causing her to lose her grip on him. Before she could guess what he had in mind, he lifted himself off her. An instant later he took hold of her calves and lifted her legs into the air. Barely aware of what she was doing, she gripped his wrists. Then he was on the move again, sliding close so his knees pressed against her buttocks. When he rele
ased her legs, they fell forward until they were stopped by his chest.
Ignoring her vulnerability and cursing the oversize sweatshirt covering them, she drew his hands to her breasts. She was sinking into the ground, weakening, heating. What was it she’d said about not thinking of herself as particularly feminine? She’d never felt more female than she did now, wonderfully helpless and controlled.
Then, although she tried to keep them on her, he lifted his hands from her breasts and shook free of her grip. She was trying not to cry out when he slid his fingers between the ground and her buttocks and lifted her ass a few necessary inches. Doing her part by hooking her legs over his shoulders, she clenched the sweatshirt and waited.
He’d slide effortlessly into her in a marriage of two bodies. Everything that had happened between them before this moment would evaporate, and there’d only be her pussy embracing his cock. She’d know or want nothing else, and it would be the same for him. Perfect. Complete.
But when his cock pushed along the valley between her ass cheeks, fantasy gave way to reality. Trying not to laugh, she waited for him to realign. The second time he easily found her, sliding past her wet folds. There was nothing gentle or tentative about the swollen cock plowing into her, and if anticipation hadn’t loosened her, discomfort would have come between her and pleasure.
He was in her; that’s all that mattered.
Blood rushed to her head, and she was already losing circulation in her feet, but in some respects she’d been waiting all her life for this moment. The watching hawk had taken on a red cast, and she could no longer see the sky, no longer hear the wind. There was only Mato’s harsh breathing and her equally rough exhalations.
Unwilling to serve as a passive receptacle, she reached out. Finding his thighs, she clawed. The harsher his thrust, the more determined she became to leave her impact on him. Never before had she thought of harming a sex partner, but, then, she’d never been in this place. There were no rules, no guidelines, only her mind roaring and her cunt threatening to explode.
A missionary position of sorts! Just like earlier, he’d insisted on taking her instead of achieving a partnership, but even as she silently railed, she wanted it no other way. This was fucking, not lovemaking—strangers and enemies taking from each other because they could. Just the same, having her legs lifted robbed her of the self-determination she’d always insisted on with her sexual partners. The longer he plowed into her, the more she sank into herself until the world beyond her body didn’t exist.
She’d dove into a swirling pool. Yes, he was part of what she was experiencing, but for now she controlled the timing and tempo of her response. Much as part of her wanted to drown in her just-out-of-reach climax, she held back so the sensations would continue. These moments were about floating, about swimming in heat, about sinking beneath the surface and finding herself in a world of reds and blacks, of music even.
Perhaps Mato was responsible for the subtle yet increasing change in the flames licking her flesh; perhaps she was. Either way, the water she imagined herself in was becoming steadily deeper. The red and black hues became more vibrant and now swept over her as if colors and water were blending into a whole. And the music—lilting instruments she didn’t recognize punctuated by powerful drumming that vibrated through her.
What was that she’d said and believed about being in control of her release? That had been true of the woman she’d been moments ago, but now everything was in motion, churning and changing. She felt his body attacking and pleasuring hers, heard herself scream and scream again. Her fingers ached from attacking him so she rested them on his flesh and pulled his heat into her veins.
Fire and night, the still vibrant hues rushing together, splintered thoughts shooting from one place to another, one sensation followed by the next.
Drowning! Something was pulling her deep into a pool or pond or ocean, closing her off from the world and yet embracing her. Still heating her and adding strength to her voice.
Then something shifted, another gear reached, and everything was streaming past her. Determined to catch the flow, she dove again. Fire and ice swallowed her.
And when it was over, she cried.
“You’re sure you want to put it back on? I could carry you.”
Shaking her head, Smokey held out her hand for the slipper Mato had thrown into the underbrush. She was sitting up, his sweatshirt pulled over her buttocks to protect her ass from the ground, her legs tingling, now that the blood flow had been restored, postsex weakness slowing her movements, and lethargy quieting her mind. Just the same, she knew she didn’t want to be any more dependent on this naked man than she already was.
“What happens now, Mato?” she asked because putting off the question would only make it harder. “Do we go back to your place so you can tie me up again?”
“We’re going back, but not for that.”
“Why then?”
Although experience had taught her to expect lengthy silences from him, she had to grit her teeth to keep from saying something she’d probably regret. Mato looked every bit a man comfortable with his surroundings. Only heightened color in his cheeks gave away his recent exertion—that and a certain quietness in his eyes. The look of contentment caught her attention and gave rise to compassion for a man who seldom was at peace with himself. He still might be more wild than tame and under his spirit’s influence, but she’d take what she could of the man.
When he held out his hand to help her stand, she took it. Then, instead of retreating back into her own space, she wrapped her arms around him. He smelled of the forest and sex, and she hoped he was breathing in the same scents. “I don’t know what’s going to take place between us,” she said. “And I don’t think you do either, but I want to thank you for what just happened, the sex.”
“You climaxed? I wasn’t aware of anything except what was happening to me.”
“It was the same for me,” she admitted, at peace because he’d hugged her back. “I was pretty single-minded, more than I ever remember being.” She might have said more if it hadn’t occurred to her that her self-absorption might have been deliberate. By concentrating on her own drive toward sexual release, she hadn’t had to think about her partner.
A partner who hadn’t used protection this time.
Because an animal doesn’t think of such things?
Reminding herself that she was the one who faced the greatest risk—if bearing Mato Hawk’s child was a risk—she debated mentioning the lack of a condom, but she didn’t want to spoil this moment.
“What do you remember of how you acted?” she asked, still snuggling against him.
Once more silence defined their relationship, and as she waited, she gave herself up to the task of returning to the here and now. It might be a sunny day, but yesterday’s rain had left countless puddles. The sweatshirt she was wearing was damp and muddy, and she was already feeling chilled. A blister was developing on her right big toe, and she was hungry. Mato hadn’t eaten either. How could he be oblivious to his nudity?
“I’m trying,” he finally said. “But so much is a blur.”
“I think I know why, but I’d like you to say it.”
His chest expanded and then expanded even more as he drew in a deep breath. She waited.
“Spirit,” he answered.
“He took over.”
“Yes.”
“Does that happen often?”
Instead of answering, he turned them back toward his place and started walking. Unwilling to step out of his hold, she matched his pace. And though she warned herself that he might be taking her back into captivity after all, she felt no fear.
The hawk she’d seen while they were having sex might have been following them, perhaps directed by Hawk Spirit as a way of intimidating her. Could the spirit be afraid of her? If so, why?
The tall, strong body beside her supplied the answer: Hawk Spirit feared her impact on Mato.
“Do you know when it’s going to ha
ppen?” she tried. “Something changes in you as a warning that Hawk Spirit is here?”
“Not a warning—a gift.”
He’d spoken with just enough force that she couldn’t help wondering if he was trying to convince himself. Maybe it was akin to paying taxes: much as she hated forking over a goodly chunk of her income, she accepted it as the price of living in a free society.
Mentally chiding herself for comparing taxes to what had happened to Mato, she concentrated on her surroundings. The damp, dark, living curtain had intimidated her when she was trying to flee it, but now she felt as though she was being sheltered. Maybe Mato was solely responsible; maybe she was becoming accustomed to the sight, smell, and sound of the forest.
And maybe Hawk Spirit was spinning his web over her.
“I think I understand why you consider your relationship with your spirit a gift, but aren’t there times when you want control over your mind? To make your own decisions?”
Stopping abruptly, he yanked her around so she faced him. “Is that how you see it? I’m Spirit’s slave?”
Acutely aware of how carefully she needed to form her response, she tried to shake off his impact, but how could she when he’d become part and parcel of their surroundings, organic to this land? She easily imagined him walking here thousands of years ago, a primitive and primal man totally in tune with the world of his birth. He knew he’d die here, and when he did, his body would help replenish the soil, but until then, he’d embrace and be embraced by all living things.
As would any woman who fell in love with him.
No, not love! Hardly that!
And yet she had never before wanted to crawl inside a man so she could see his world through his eyes, never wanted to give birth to a child with those features and that passion.
