by Karen Kay
All at once, a naughty urge took hold of her. No, she shouldn’t do it. She mustn’t, for she felt in all likelihood he might retaliate in kind.
The urge proved to be more than she could resist, however. Cupping her hands full of water, she splashed him, face first, and he jerked back.
She giggled. Indeed, he looked so odd with mud running down his face it was all she could do to keep from laughing outright.
Of course, as she had predicted, he gave her back as good as she gave, making it her turn to show a clownish face to him. Still she giggled.
And he did laugh outright.
“Shhh,” she said. “We don’t want the enemy to find us.”
“If there are enemies about, they will surely have found us out by now.”
“Then you think it is safe?”
“As safe as can be expected when in enemy territory.” He grabbed hold of her, and pulling her into his arms, with her full form against his, he rolled them both over and over until they fell with a splash into the water. He let go of her, and they both came up laughing. Getting up to their knees, they faced each other, and he took her hand in his. Looking up at her mischievously, he asked, “Have you ever stripped off all your clothes and swam naked in the water?”
Her mouth fell open. “Why, I…I…”
He didn’t wait to hear more. Taking full advantage of her while she was still gaping at him, he kissed her quite soundly.
Chapter Fifteen
She ended the kiss at once and pushed him away from her. “Why, Mr. Hawk. That was unfair.”
“Was it?” he asked. “But you might agree that it was pleasurable. And you have not answered my question.”
“Haven’t I?”
He shook his head at her.
“Very well. If you must know, then no, I have never swum naked. No well-brought-up girl would have. Have you?”
“Most usually,” he affirmed with a cheeky smirk. “And I disagree. Many girls I know are well brought up and swim naked. Come, I think you should try it.”
“What? With you here?”
“Aa.”
“Well, this is quite a change, isn’t it? I thought you were the one who had to make sure you didn’t push me too far into passion. Aren’t you afraid I might lure you into doing something—?”
“Please,” he broke in to say.
“Please? Please what?”
“Please would you lure me?”
Her stomach seemed to be having trouble digesting its earlier snack of jerky, for something in the center of her abdomen turned over and over. “Why, Mr. Hawk, I do believe you might have changed your mind.”
“It is possible.”
“Well, so it’s bare-skinned bathing that you want, is it?”
“Aa, it is so.”
“Hmmm…I might need some extremely good convincing.”
“I can be convincing.”
“I’m sure you can be.” She stood to her feet and waded toward him. “But… Stop that.”
He had reached up to untie the belt she’d used to make his shirt fit her. He, too, came up along with her, and with as slick a motion as possible, he removed the articles of war from around his neck and shoulder and threw them to the shore.
His action took her by surprise, for the sight of his nude torso with all the mud gone was playing havoc with her mind.
He reached around behind her. “You have asked what it would be like being married to me, and I think it time to show you more thoroughly what a married couple might do.” Taking her in his arms, he fell backward in the water, cushioning her as she tumbled along with him.
With intents of retaliation, she tugged on the strings that held up his leggings.
“Thank you.” He smiled at her as he tore the clothing off and threw them also to the shore. “But I think, Miss Effie, that you again wear too many clothes.”
Maybe she should have thought her actions through more thoroughly. Alas, witnessing the man’s almost nude form, for he was standing before her in no more than a breechcloth and her necklace—and there was no longer any mud to cover him—was so disconcerting that when he extended his arm out to grab hold of her shirt and plucked it up and over her head, she acquiesced a little too easily.
The end result was perhaps something he’d not reckoned, for he stopped suddenly and stared at her as though he could hardly believe his eyes. Eventually he laughed.
“What?” she asked. “Did you honestly think I would go anywhere without this?” She had worn her corset beneath his shirt.
“But the thing must be uncomfortable.”
“Of course it is. However, that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t wear it.”
He shook his head at her. “White women dress strangely. How does it come off?”
“And why should it come off?”
“Do you not wish to feel the pleasure of swimming without the burden of clothing? To experience the cool water running over every part of your skin?”
When he put it like that, it did sound wonderful. With a teasing note, she said, “Is that the only reason you wish to remove my clothes?”
“I did have something else in mind, but only if you agree it is something you might like. In the meanwhile, why do we not undress and swim, like we have done in the past?”
“You mean that time about seventeen years ago? But we were fully clothed then.”
“Not fully,” he said. “If I remember correctly, you were covered from the waist down only.”
“But I was also eight years old at the time.”
“Aa. We were, the two of us, much too young to understand what was happening between us. We are not that young now. But come, if it bothers you, leave that thing on. I do not wish to make you feel uncomfortable. Do you object to taking off the leggings you wear?”
“Not at all.”
“Then let us do so now. Come here.”
She did as instructed, uncertain why she was so easily going along with his suggestions. True, she wasn’t nude, but standing before him in nothing more than her corset was producing an effect similar to that of a fire being lit beneath her. It occurred to her it was strange that she should be standing in waist-deep cold water with her temperature rising.
He pulled on the strings that kept up the leggings she wore, and they fell off into his hands. With a quick flick of his arm and wrist, he sent these, too, flying toward the shoreline.
This time, he didn’t seem as surprised to see that she wore her own leggings beneath his leather ones, her pantalettes. He said, “You are beautiful,” and with a finger, he tipped her face up to his. Gently, he brought his lips to hers, and her body responded to him as though she had lived all her life for this single moment.
As a steady rush of elation filled her, she pressed her body against his. He seemed only too willing to welcome her.
“Poohsapoot,” he said, “come. Let us swim.” Shifting her in his grasp, he propelled himself through the water sideways, his arm still firmly wrapped around her, his feet paddling. “If we…marry…perhaps we will swim like this often.”
It would be heaven, she thought, as she did nothing but relax and let herself be led through the water.
He executed a smooth turn in the water, taking her with him and pulling her on top of him, until he was holding her from his other side. Still paddling in the water, he brought her up closer and stole a wet, lingering kiss.
He spun over in the water again, calmly, naturally, bringing her back to his original side. It was like being caught up in a dance, as they slid through a liquid paradise. Kissing her once more, he repeated the process.
At last he stopped, and standing, he brought her in close in his arms. “Kitsikakomimmo. I have dreamed of this. I have waited for this. Since that first time we met, I have wished for you to be in my arms, like this. There is no one else like you,
there will never be anyone else like you.”
“You turn my head,” she said. “But tell me, in all this time, there has been no one else?”
“None like you.”
“I find that hard to believe, especially because you are a handsome man. Surely there has been a girl here or there who has caught your eye.”
“Saa. It is not so. Of course, a young boy in a village like ours does not go without experience, for there are widows who are more than anxious to show a youngster what to do. Often a girl is thought of as a conquest, much like one might conquer an enemy. But boys who take advantage of a girl are not well thought of, for it is known they rarely make good husbands. But if you ask if I have ever loved another as I love you, then you have my answer. I have never considered marrying another, nor have I longed for another. I think, Miss Effie, that I have waited for you since that first day we met.”
“In truth, Mr. Hawk, I, too, believe I have been waiting for you.” In a voice barely over a whisper, she said, “The corset comes off here in the front.” Briefly, she showed him. “There are hooks and eyes. Do you see them?”
He moaned and swayed back and forth with her still in his arms. It was some moments before he reached up a hand to begin the lengthy process of removing her corset.
Such was an impossible task, even at the best times. He was using both his hands, but his fingers were also unsteady. Watching him struggle with the project, she moved his hands out of the way and slowly undid each and every hook herself.
When it was done, he carefully peeled the thing away from her, and as he had done with their other clothing, he threw it to the shore.
“Are your leggings also difficult to remove?” he asked.
She shook her head. “But let us leave them on for now—you still have your breechcloth on.”
“That is easily remedied.”
“No,” she said. “It is too soon.”
“Aa, I think I understand. Let us swim underwater.” Securing her hand in his, he said, “Are you ready?”
“I am.”
“Then take a deep breath, and come with me.”
Inhaling, she followed him in a dive.
It was an experience unlike any other. The cool liquid rushed over her like a lingering caress, gently massaging every part of her body. Her nipples were taut, aching, as though they awaited a master’s touch. It felt naughty, yet heavenly, to be here like this with him.
Their movements through the dark liquid were tardy, sensual, their legs and arms entwining as though they danced, there beneath the water. She had never swum in the water at night, and so many shadows filled the stream, from the trees, the shrubs and the clouds overhead, that she might have found the experience more than a little frightening, were it not for Red Hawk’s hand, which still held hers tightly.
Forging through the water, Red Hawk pulled her into his arms, his form stretched out in full and hers up tight against his. Over and over he rolled with her, there under the water’s surface, executing a laggardly, rhythmic performance, bringing her ever and ever closer to him.
Their legs entangled, and they held each other securely. The feel of her bare chest touching against the naked expanse of his sent her blood boiling. All at once the water, once so cold, felt much too warm.
But she needed breath. Pointing her index finger upward, she signaled that she required air. Both of them gasped as they broke the surface. When he reached down to pull off her drawers, throwing them toward the shoreline, she only knew relief that at last she could feel the water against her there as well.
“What are these?” He glanced down and fingered the satchels tied to her waist.
Effie grimaced. How could she have forgotten about the artifacts so easily? “These tiny sacks contain valuables that I carry with me always.”
He nodded. “This is where you store the artifacts.”
She didn’t answer.
“You are a very smart woman to keep these so close to you. Your clothes protect them, and no one can see them or get to them easily. It is a good place. Do not worry, your secret is safe with me.”
She nodded, but buried within her heart, she worried. Was it true? Was her secret really safe with him? Didn’t he desire to gain the artifacts as much as anyone else?
However, she had no time in which to debate the question. For now, she trusted him, and he was close, so very, very close, and she wanted him closer yet. She could feel the evidence of his sex, there at the apex of her legs. The knowledge quietly sent her pulse into convulsions.
“Poohsapoot,” he whispered against her ear, and he half led, half carried her to the shore, where he laid her back against the soft grasses that lined the stream.
“Are there snakes here?” she asked, shivering slightly.
“We are too far north for snakes to inhabit these waters. A little farther south and you might find a few. The danger of snakes in this country is on the land, not here in the water.”
“Good,” she said.
In a voice most teasing, he stated, “We married folks have many ways of showing each other our love. One of them is like this.” He came up over her, taking one of her breasts into his mouth.
She groaned.
“Oh,” he murmured against her, and then so softly she barely heard him, he added, “to see you with my child, suckling on your breast. How proud I would be.”
He shifted to her other breast, and she twisted beneath him, as though she might squirm her way to some unknown pinnacle. Deep within her, at the junction of her legs, an excitement roused. She wanted more…more…but of what?
Momentarily, he left her breasts and moved upward until he was raining wet kisses over her neck, her chest, her ear, her cheeks, her lips, her eyes. In truth, no part of her face escaped his notice.
“Kitsikakomimmo.”
She murmured back, “Kitsikakomimmo,” which had the immediate response of eliciting a groan from him.
“Do you mean it?”
“I think so.”
“Then we will marry.”
So lost was she to the moment, it was beyond her to respond to him, whether in the positive or the negative. She only wanted him to continue what he was doing, now. Then she found herself saying, “Red Hawk?”
“Yes?”
“I believe you have on too many clothes.”
He looked down at himself, then grinned sheepishly up at her. “I think you are right.” He remedied the situation at once, untying his breechcloth and tossing it aside. “I fear that we have left a scattering of our garments up and down this shoreline.”
“Yes.”
“But we will find them easily enough.”
“Good, good. But, Red Hawk, you stopped.”
He smiled down at her and kissed her gently on the lips. “How foolish of me.” His mouth immediately found a most sensitive spot on her neck.
Downward he roamed again, following the path of her necklace, his lips suckling on her breasts, until she thought she might cry out with sheer pleasure.
So this was what lovemaking was about. No wonder men and women everywhere yearned for it.
But was this all? Did a man simply make a woman dizzy with kisses? Carnally, she understood there had to be more to it than this—that a part of her that was most private and a part of him would need to align in some fashion or the other. But the exact extent of what this entailed was beyond her.
He made a foray downward over her body, his lips on her stomach, her belly button, down farther, until she feared he went too far.
She sat up suddenly. “What are you doing?”
He gazed up at her with no apology. “I am making love to you.”
“But you are way down there. Shouldn’t you be up here?” She placed her hand on her chest.
“Aa,” he agreed. “Sometimes.”
“I thou
ght—”
“But not now.” His voice was low but firm. “Lie back. I would kiss you here, and I would have you enjoy this, your first time.”
“But…”
“Come, I am showing you what it would be like to be married to me. Lie down.”
She lay down as he commanded.
“You must spread your legs around me,” he said. Before she could deny him, he parted her legs and came down between them. Then he kissed her there on her most feminine spot—and those kisses were quite warm and wet.
She sighed. Had she ever felt anything more wonderful? His tongue slid all over her, his fingers helping stimulate her. As passion took hold of her, she opened her legs wider to give him further access.
Then it began within her, a pressure, a desire, a need to move, to squirm beneath his ministrations. Her breathing quickened, and her pulse beat staccato in her ears.
A crescendo was building inside her, and she was pushing toward some peak. She felt much like a volcano, ready to blast at any time.
Over and over she twisted her hips against him until she thought she might explode, and then all at once, she did, as though she fell down from the edge of a precipice. Waves of ecstasy washed through her, feelings of love and admiration swamping her. She pressed upward to enhance the pleasure, until at last the sensation of fulfillment possessed her.
Coming down from that emotional pinnacle, she lay still for a moment, letting her breathing return to normal. Her first thought, however, was of him. Had he, too, reached the same sort of peak she had?
“That was wonderful,” she muttered. “Did you, too, attain your pleasure?”
“Not yet,” he whispered, his voice as soft as hers. “But soon.”
She nodded and then fell into silence.
Dear Lord, was this what married people experienced with one another? No wonder people aspired to marriage.
Indeed, before this moment, marriage had seemed to her to be a dream that lacked reality. Now she understood the attraction.
Meanwhile, he had brought himself up onto his elbows, and gazing up at her, smiled. When he extended his body over hers, she soaked up the sight of him. It was also the first time she had glimpsed that essentially male part of him.
