by Karen Kay
She placed her hands against his chest and raised her eyes to his.
“Tahiska,” she whispered, and when she had his attention she signed, “I am afraid.” She stopped. Sign language was limited when one spoke of love or sex. “I do not understand. How will you fit?”
Tahiska chuckled. He hugged her and fit his body against hers. “You will see,” he whispered into her ear before he made the necessary signs assuring her.
Kristina had never felt more alive. The emotions within her were exploding, yet in Tahiska’s gaze she saw tenderness. His fingers caressed her face as though her skin were silk. And when his lips met hers, the fire created within overwhelmed her fears.
His hand traveled up and down her chest, over her buttocks, to her breasts. When he jerked his lips from hers to gasp in air; she noticed his breathing was as erratic as hers.
He dropped to his knees again, taking her with him. She felt his hardness pressing between them. She gloried in it. When she twisted her hips against his, a heady sensation warmed her very core and she nearly moaned aloud with the pleasure of it. She heard his indrawn breath and, raising her eyes to his, smiled. The look he sent her in return was blazing and Kristina was sure her heart stopped still before it raced along even faster than before.
With their gazes locked, he pressed her back against the softness of the thick grasses, cushioning her fall.
With his knee, he spread her legs and settled himself between her thighs. His eyes never wavered from hers.
He supported himself on one elbow while the fingers of his other hand found the point in her womanhood that sent her reeling with pleasure.
With a steady gaze, he watched as waves of pleasure washed over her. The look in his eyes spoke of his delight, and together they shared a smile before his lips took hers in a deep and hungry kiss.
Kristina squirmed beneath the touch of his fingers. His lips left hers to travel down her neck, over her shoulders, and down to her breasts. Everywhere he touched her quivering flesh sent a jolt of pure need through her.
He positioned himself beside her and while his fingers worked their magic between her thighs, his tongue traced each breast.
Tahiska was just barely keeping himself in check. His body cried out to seek relief within her, yet he was reluctant to end this moment. It was perfect. They both were alive with sensation, yet in spirit they were touching, so close, he knew her thoughts and her pleasure as though it were his own.
He licked her breasts, finding this extremely pleasurable himself, but he also knew it lit a fire within her. He felt her excitement.
When his fingers slipped within her, finding the soft wetness there, he knew she was ready.
Removing his hand, he positioned himself over her, keeping his weight on his forearms.
He met her gaze and whispered to her in Lakota as he entered her in an easy, steady motion. She stiffened, but he kissed her tenderly until he felt her relax again. As she opened up to him, he thrust deeper inside her, penetrating the barrier of her maidenhead, and as she moaned, Tahiska muffled her sighs and whimpers with his tongue.
Slowly he pressed inward and upwards until at last she embraced him completely.
Ceasing further movements, he nuzzled against her neck and relished the joy of being within her. Rising up on his elbows, he looked down upon her and smiled at the passionate flush that stained her cheeks. His long hair flowed around them, trailing over her breasts, and Tahiska thought the sight of his black hair against her pale skin beautiful. He knew she felt pain, but it was his intention to pleasure her even this, her first time.
Kristina couldn’t have looked away from Tahiska even if she’d had to. He was her lifeline in a sea of strange and exciting emotions. There had been pain amidst the new sensations, but in his look, he told her he knew of it and it was to be expected. It was as natural as the grass that carpeted the ground beneath them. Her body had simply made accommodation for him.
The feel of him within her was exquisite. It was as though, for a moment, they shared the same space. She didn’t ever want it to end.
Then he began to move. At first it was painful to her, and she wondered if she could endure it. But as he continued to move, so very gently, the pain fell away.
He watched her, concern apparent in his gaze. She knew he waited for the gradual easing of her tension, and his patience filled her with warmth, until at last the pain was gone and she grinned at him. He let out a high yelp and laughed before he once more settled over her and thrust deeply within.
Kristina wasn’t sure just when the new feeling had started, but a sensation such as she had never felt came over her, spreading downward toward the junction between her legs, and every movement Tahiska made increased the need to satisfy it.
She began to move in rhythm with him. Their gazes locked, and Kristina wrapped her legs around his waist, meeting his every stroke until she thought she would die of the wonder of it. Beads of perspiration formed on Tahiska’s brow and in his eye was a look so intense, Kristina was overcome with the need to give him as much pleasure as she sought.
She met his quickened tempo, thinking she would collapse if not soon released. The sensation was so rare, so fine tuned, it was almost unbearable, and in a frenzy to satisfy him, she burst. She actually cried aloud as she strained against him to seek more of the incredible feeling.
Tahiska watched her with something akin to amazement. He had never witnessed anything more splendid in all his life, and with his gaze steady upon her, he followed her.
He floated upwards with her as the spasms of his body rocked against hers. And at the last thrust within, he relaxed his body against her, their sweat mingling in the afterglow. Tahiska gloried in the feel of her body under his. And with his heart pounding, his breathing still unsteady, he knew this love he felt for his golden-haired Kristina was a good and magnificent thing.
Kristina had never imagined such intimacy. They had gazed at each other throughout the entirety of their lovemaking, and it had been as though she knew not only his thoughts, but also him. She had touched the essence of that which he was and she loved him now as she had never thought it possible to love anyone. And this brief oneness with him had intensified the sensation to a level she could scarcely fathom.
She massaged his back and his buttocks as he lay against her. He had said he loved her. She smiled. She was surely the happiest person alive.
They must have dozed for when she awoke, the sun was much lower in the sky.
He was awake and still within her, though he rested the majority of his weight on his forearms.
They smiled.
With her legs still firmly wrapped around his waist, he rolled her with him where, still joined, they lay side by side, staring into one another’s eyes.
Kristina wondered how long he had been awake. Had he watched her sleep? The thought was oddly heartwarming.
He touched his nose. “Pasu,” he articulated. Laughing, he wiggled her nose, but said the same word again. He motioned for her to repeat it.
“Pah-soo,” she repeated.
Then, pointing back to his nose, he signed, “What is it?”
“Nose,” she said.
He repeated it, his Indian accent making the word almost sensual.
Pointing to the eyes he stated, “Ista.” He motioned again for her to repeat it, making her say it over and over till he was satisfied. Then he pointed to her eyes.
“Eyes,” she responded, and she smiled when he echoed it.
It was the oddest language lesson she’d ever had—laid out naked on the ground with her Indian lover aroused and hard within her. Still, they completed all the body parts in a like manner until at last they could no longer ignore their mutual passion.
They touched, they smiled, they laughed until at length they began to move in unison once more.
The sun was a reddish orb when next she woke. She opened her eyes to a vision of Tahiska watching her, his gaze boring into hers.
He trailed a f
ingertip over her cheek, then whispered, “mitawicu” before his lips met hers, tenderly, only a fleeting touch.
She closed her eyes, smiling. “Mitawicu,” she murmured, then, “What does it mean?” she asked in sign. He grinned, his lips touching hers again. “Mitawicu?” he asked, his breath mixing with hers. He straightened just slightly and signed, “My wife.” Tahiska touched her lips again, softly. “I love you, my wife.”
Chapter Eight
The sun set in a profusion of golds, reds, and pinks. All the noises of the day fell into a hushed silence. The green hilltops were bathed in gold while long shadows fell over the valleys. Only the gurgle of the creek and the whispering of the ever-present wind interrupted the otherwise soul-melting silence of the prairie.
Kristina stood by the creek. She wore Tahiska’s shirt and nothing else. The garment fell well below her knees, covering Kristina entirely in the softness of smooth leather. It felt good.
She stared into the creek water wishing for answers. She was in trouble, deep trouble, and she knew it.
Wife? Marriage? That explained the ceremony, but where was the minister? Where were the vows? Could she truly consent to a union without such things? Would others sanction her actions?
She had to tell Tahiska that there was no marriage between them. Would he believe that she hadn’t known what he was doing? Would he be furious? Or more importantly, would he think less of her? What could she possibly say to him? I’m sorry but I only wanted an affair. I never contemplated marriage. No, that wasn’t true either. She squeezed her eyes shut and lowered her head. Briefly she considered saying nothing. Could she pretend to be his wife whenever he was near and act as though she were single all other times? Not likely. As his wife, Tahiska would surely demand that she live with him, something no one at the fort would ever allow.
And what of her? Did she want to live with the Indians? Isn’t that what Nanny had foreseen? And yet now that the opportunity presented itself to her, she was hesitant. Could she really leave behind her satins and lace, her perfumes and toiletries? Could she truly welcome a life she’d not been born to?
She couldn’t answer. She lifted her head, glancing toward the western sky.
Sunset. Soon the gates at the fort would close, presenting even further problems. She would be missed. Her parents would worry. The whole fort would worry. What would happen then?
Her stomach turned and Kristina gulped. What had she done? She had acted on instinct, that was all. She hadn’t thought. She had only savored the moment. The love they’d made had felt so right, so natural.
She lowered her eyes to watch Tahiska as he stood waist deep in the creek. Kristina realized that to his own mind, Tahiska had protected her and her reputation. He couldn’t know that any marriage to which they’d committed would ruin her in the eyes of her own people, perhaps even more so than an affair. Tahiska was bound to a code of honor that he had never deviated from. And she was terribly, hopelessly in love with him. But marriage?
She stared at him. He was perfect. He was wonderful. He was also Indian.
“Leci u wo,” he said, looking up at her and smiling, while he motioned for her to join him.
She shook her head. He didn’t know. He honestly didn’t see the problems while she was consumed with them. And of one thing she was certain: If she didn’t return to the fort tonight, there would be trouble, lots of trouble.
He stood waist deep in the creek, laughing at her, waving again for her to join him. And for a moment she wished she could. She would love nothing more than to romp freely with him, as though they had no cares—no one to consider, no one to interfere. But she couldn’t. Besides, she didn’t swim.
“Leci u wo,” he vocalized, then signed, “Come here.”
“No,” she set her lips firmly and shook her head at him. She faced toward the sunset, a frown pulling her brows together.
“Kristina.” At his command she turned back toward him and tried to smile, but it wasn’t easy and she couldn’t quite meet his eyes. “Leci u wo,” he repeated, then signed, “You will bathe. We will talk since you are troubled. Come.”
He held out a hand.
She frowned. “I cannot,” she signed. “I do not wish to wet your shirt.”
He shrugged. “It matters little. It will not harm the shirt. Take it off if you worry.”
Her hands stilled at her side. A faint blush flickered across her cheeks. She couldn’t. Even though only hours before they had been passionately entwined, she couldn’t bring herself to strip in front of him.
She raised her eyes to his in a shy glance and then quickly looked away He simply smiled at her, letting her know he understood her dilemma.
He waded to her, the smile never leaving his lips.
He stood before her, completely naked, yet he was not in the least uncomfortable about it.
“Kristina,” he stated in Lakota. “Let us bathe. We will talk and you will feel better. Come.”
He eased the shirt from her body and, taking her hand in his, kissed each of her fingertips.
When his gaze at last met hers, he was smiling. “If worry always turns you this shy,” he said, “I will have to remember to keep you carefree.”
And though he didn’t translate, his words seemed to soothe her, for she smiled sweetly back at him.
“Come,” he motioned with one finger and led her to the middle of the creek. His hands smoothed water over every part of her body, and he appeared to derive as much pleasure from his actions as she did. He washed her hair, he massaged her scalp, his hands caressed her tense muscles. He turned her around so that her back was to him, while he massaged her along her spine and shoulders.
Kristina felt like putty in his hands. She moaned and shut her eyes. Why did her people think the Indian woman was a slave? Tahiska was always kind and considerate to her. He listened quietly when she spoke and appeared to weigh and acknowledge her ideas. If the responsibilities of the home fell to the Indian woman, wasn’t this also so in her world?
They were standing waist deep in the water, and Kristina leaned back against him. At first she attempted to cover her breasts with her arms, but as Tahiska’s massage eased the tension in her body, so, too, did her embarrassment dissipate.
When she had finally relaxed fully against him, he gently turned her around to face him.
“We must talk,” he said and set her slightly away. “Tell me why you worry so. Have I not said that we will tell your parents of our marriage tomorrow? In my tribe it is not uncommon for a boy and girl to steal away to marry. Usually there is no trouble over this. Does the white man never steal his bride? Is it this that worries you?”
His sign movement was so graceful, and Kristina was so caught up in its beauty, that she lagged behind in translating its message. She hesitated.
“I did not truly steal you,” he continued when she didn’t immediately reply. “I gave your father gifts, though had I been home, there would have been more gifts. Is it the value of the presents that troubles you?”
“Tahiska,” Kristina grabbed his hands and held them against her breasts while she thought out the right sign sequence. Her feelings were complex, and she probably would have had difficulty communicating it all properly with words, let alone in a language of hand motions.
“Tahiska,” she began aloud, then switched to sign, letting his hands drop to his sides. “I must speak to you with my mind now and not with my heart. In my heart, I love you and want to be with you always. But my mind is not certain that a marriage between us is good. I was not aware this afternoon that we had married. My customs are different from yours, and it was not until you called me wife, that I knew of our marriage. I love you, but I do not think I can marry you.”
“It is already done!” he signed furiously.
“I was not aware of it!” she returned, in an equally intense movement.
Tahiska hesitated. “Then divorce me!” he signed at length.
Kristina looked away. “I don’t think that I cou
ld.” She spoke in English. “Besides, why should I divorce you when I’m not even sure we’re married?”
He caught her hands, then gestured, “Speak so that I can understand you.”
She glowered at him, but signed nonetheless, “I will not divorce you when I am uncertain we are even married.”
Tahiska said nothing. He signed nothing for a long while. His eyes bored into hers until she had to glance away. When she looked back, she noted that he had masked all sign of emotion from his face. He looked skyward and took a deep breath.
“Did you not enjoy our time together, my wife?” he asked in Lakota, then signed his question quickly before her. “Are you displeased with me?”
Her gaze flew to his.
“Did you not find our love as satisfying as I?”
“No, I…”
“Is this the reason you consider divorce?”
“I haven’t…”
“Do you find it distasteful to love me?”
“No, I’m only…”
“Show me.”
“What?” Kristina couldn’t be sure she followed his signs correctly.
“Show me how you feel about me.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Yes, you do.”
Kristina looked down. He was fully aroused and waiting for her. She shot her gaze back to his.
He glared at her. “Do you love me?”
“You know I do, it’s just that…”
He grabbed her hands, silencing her. “Show me,” he signed, placing her hands on his chest. “Show me.”
Her fingertips burned at the contact, and a deep longing swept over her. She traced her fingertips over his breast. “Tahiska, I…”
He placed a finger to her lips, then set her hands on his waist and below, “Show me,” he signed again.
She felt him, then gasped. Her gaze leapt to his. He smiled and without so much as a flicker of an eyelash, Tahiska lifted her up toward him. He wrapped her legs around his waist and fitted himself inside her. Sensation immediately overwhelmed her. She moved against him. Then again. In this position, Kristina noted she had to do most of the work, but she quickly adjusted and found herself drawing him further within. If her gaze dropped from his, he promptly tilted her chin up until they once again stared at one another. His hands held her buttocks, holding her in place while she rocked against him. Each thrust within her was deep and Kristina thought she might die from the pleasure of it.
