by Karen Kay
At one point his hands came up to hold her waist while he drove upwards within her. There was perspiration on his brow and above his lips. It was the only indication she had that he was moved by her, outside of the obvious one. His gaze stoically bore into hers.
She couldn’t help herself. She strained against him, she rocked, she twisted. The water rushed in and around them. The tempo increased. And all the while, he did not allow her gaze to falter from his.
She was at a precipice and as she tipped over the edge, he thrust deeply within her, encouraging her with the ultimate sensation. She labored against him until she was spent, never free of the intensity in his eyes until, at the last moment, her eyes drifted back and she floated upwards.
She was still for a long time, floating, her legs wrapped around him.
He was still aroused and hard within her and when she at last came out of her daze, he began to move against her, but this time when she looked at him, he smiled.
He took her hands and held them outwards, in a straight line away from their bodies while he rubbed his torso over her breasts.
She threw her head back and he kissed her neck and, holding her body upwards, he nuzzled each breast until she began to feel that same sensation spreading downward, begging for release.
She hadn’t known this was possible and her startled gaze, as she brought her head down, told him so.
He just smiled at her while he brought her head to his. When his lips met hers, he nibbled upon them.
It was seduction. Pure and simple. And Kristina was a willing victim to it. He teased her with his lips, with his teeth, with his tongue, and all the while he thrust deeply within her.
She met each movement, and when the rhythm escalated, it was what she needed. Their breathing was labored, and despite the cool water, their sweat mingled until Kristina couldn’t tell if she were wet from creek water or from sweat.
They strained, they pushed, they loved until together they burst, both twisting and thrusting long after the need was fulfilled.
They drifted upwards together. And it seemed for awhile they shared the same space.
Mindlessly she nuzzled his neck, while his hands roamed over her back and buttocks as though he wished to memorize each curve.
“Kristina,” he murmured against her hair, “mitawicu, I do believe we pleasure each other well.”
It was a long time before they finally drew apart to bathe in the creek.
Darkness had fallen on the land when Kristina finished her bath. Tahiska had long since left to hunt, leaving her to bathe in privacy.
She waded to the shore where she tugged Tahiska’s shirt on over her head and sat wearily, her feet still dangling in the water. She pushed her hands through the tangles in her hair in an attempt to restore order to the locks. One by one she pulled at the tangles till most of her hair was free and fell once more down her back.
Tahiska had lit a fire before he left and had given her strict instructions on its maintenance. He had also warned her not to stay long in the water, since animals often came to drink at the stream under the cloak of darkness.
Still Kristina sat near the water’s edge. She had run the gamut today emotionally and the stillness of the water and of the prairie were for the moment acting as a salve. This had been the happiest day of her life, yet it was also one filled with the most dread and worry.
She had not returned to the fort as expected. What would happen?
She loved Tahiska with all her heart. But marriage? How would their love survive?
It was impossible, and yet…
She recalled their lovemaking—beautiful, natural, complete. And she knew without a doubt that even if she refused his offer, there would never be another for her. No one could take his place within her heart. Ever.
Tears fell over her cheeks. She thought it might likely kill her to walk away from him.
She hung her head, letting the tears flow into the water, there commingling. She wished she could blend into his life as easily, but it just wasn’t possible.
For her sake, and for his, she had to convince him that the marriage was a sham. Her parents would never allow the union; her friends, even Julia, would look upon her with disdain, someone who had lost her mind.
Was her father even now riding on the prairie, looking for her? What would he do if he found her with Tahiska?
She had never spent the night away from the fort without permission. If soldiers found her with Tahiska, her reputation would be soiled. Her reputation though, meant little to her at the moment, for she had just realized another fact. They would kill him. No one would understand. Her people, even her father, would act, and Tahiska, despite his warrior status, would not stand a chance against several soldiers. They would kill him.
Kristina jumped to her feet. His life was in danger she had to warn him.
She fled toward their makeshift camp. She had to convince him to take her home now. She could make up some excuse. No one would harm him if he willingly brought her back. Besides, they were not truly married; his life depended upon her ability to reason with him. She had tried to argue with him this afternoon, but she’d been pleasantly distracted. This time she must do better; she must make him understand.
She was almost upon the camp before she realized it. She glanced around but saw no sign of Tahiska, since the fire was small and gave off little light.
For a moment her nerves quieted. There was almost no chance that her father would find them here, even if he searched for her through the night. The spot was well protected and practically invisible until one happened upon it. It gave her more time in which to reason with him. And if she failed, for just this one night they were safe. But what of tomorrow?
“Must I slay this wolf that pursues you?” Tahiska asked from the shadows. He chuckled. He was already on his feet, his hand on his knife, just in case.
“What?” she asked aloud, startled.
Tahiska reached out to her and steadied her, folding her in his arms, then, in sign, “Why do you hurry? Are you in danger?”
“No,” she returned. “It’s just, that…I need to talk to you.”
“Of course, we have much to say to each other. But sit first. I have prepared us some food. I know that you worry. But haven’t I told you that all will be well? You will see.”
“No! Hiya,” she spoke, then in sign, “I think you are wrong; all is not well. I fear you will never have the chance to speak. Don’t you understand that my people will be angry? No one knows where I am. They will worry. Their emotions will be stirred. They will fight you first and ask question later.”
“Perhaps,” he gestured back. He smiled at her and Kristina stared at him in frustration. No emotion showed on his face. In fact, he appeared calm, much too calm. How was she to plead her point when he didn’t take her seriously? “Kristina,” he continued, “I do not share your concern. But I will let you talk more of this later. For now, won’t you sit with me? Share some of my supper. I do not enjoy speaking of these things on an empty stomach.”
She glanced up into her husband’s features, hidden in part by the darkness of the evening. There was a mesmerizing quality about this man. Kristina felt herself being pulled into a false sense of security.
She tried to hold onto her worries, but once again, he had successfully distracted her. Her stomach growled.
“You see,” he motioned. “Your stomach thinks I am right.”
Kristina frowned. She needed to talk, but perhaps Tahiska was right. She would eat first and talk with him later. But she promised herself that she wouldn’t let him lull her out of her worries. He didn’t understand her people, nor the seriousness with which his actions would be dealt. She stared up at him and found herself smiling, against her will. She shook her head, then signed, “Perhaps this once I will agree with you. Let’s eat. But afterwards I need to talk to you. Do you promise that you will speak to me then?”
He laughed. “I promise.”
He motioned her to si
t and she settled herself on the ground, her legs to the side, her body pressed up close to his.
“You make me feel things I’m not sure I should feel, do things I later question,” she spoke English, her lips only a few inches from his. “Why did you not tell me you were back?” she inquired in sign.
He shrugged. “There was no reason,” he answered. “I checked on you, you were safe but lost in thought. Sometimes one needs to be alone. I thought you might need this time by yourself. It took little effort to prepare the prairie hen. Are you angry?” His glance held hers.
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “It is only that since we have been here, I have done little to help you in camp.”
He grinned. “There will be much time for that in years to come. But tonight is a special night. We have no rules to follow. Are you as hungry as your stomach says you are?”
She nodded her head eagerly.
“Good. This hen will be ready in only a few moments,” he signed and lowered his head the necessary few inches to indulge himself of her sweet kiss.
The evening rushed by, Kristina tried several times to voice her fears, but Tahiska adeptly steered the subject in different directions and Kristina found herself bewitched by him, unable to even remember why she worried. They sat huddled together in front of the fire, speaking in silken whispers to one another. And though their tongues were different, they rarely bothered to sign for understanding. Their language consisted mainly of kisses and sweet love words that needed no interpretation.
There was no moon this night and the stars above them could have numbered in the millions. There was nothing to be heard in the soft prairie evening except an occasional howl of a coyote. It was a night meant for lovers.
Earlier in the evening Tahiska had related to her the excitement of his first buffalo hunt. Kristina had been spellbound, listening to his deep voice, watching his hands in fascination. His fingers were long and tapered, his hands graceful, yet strong.
He had made a comment toward the end of his story that Kristina dwelled upon now. His life was free, he had said. He owed allegiance to no ruler, he made his own decisions and, provided he lived an honorable life, he was free to do as he pleased. In his country, his life was rich and fulfilling. His eye was sharp, his arm strong, and his arrow straight. He assured her that he could provide for her.
“Tahiska,” she spoke his name. “Do you often hunt alone?”
He shrugged. “Sometimes,” he gestured. “Though usually we hunt in groups of two to five.”
Kristina acknowledged this with a silent nod of her head.
“Are you gone long on these hunting trips?”
“Hiya,” he said, then signed, “not usually. Though some hunts have gone as long as a moon.”
Kristina trailed her fingertips over his hands before she asked, “Is that why you were gone fourteen days? Were you hunting?” She bit down on her lower lip and turned her gaze toward the fire. Even now, after all they had shared, the pain of his unexpected absence was still present. “Why so long?” she asked again. “I thought you were running from me.”
“Hiya, no.” He tilted her face back toward him and lowered his lips to hers. His kiss was sweet, yet insistent, and she yielded to the mastery of his caress. His tongue swept inside her and she met the thrust of it until his taste became a part of her own. When he at length straightened, his eyes were lit by a fervent desire, which she knew was mirrored in her own.
“I would never run from you,” he uttered as he made the motions toward her. “White men do not understand the ways of my people upon the plains. There is always danger from man and animal, and one must ever be alert for his enemies. Would you have me marry you and make love to you when there is danger about and I am unprepared to handle it? I was hunting furs for the bride price and searching out this place where, for a few nights, we could be safe. The alternative was to camp with my cousin and my Cheyenne friend. But this would not be as pleasurable and I thought you might be too shy. Have you not noticed how the hill and trees hide our camp? An enemy would be upon us before he became aware of it, but then he would have to contend with me. I stayed here a few nights to ensure it was safe and to prepare this place. It took fourteen days.”
Kristina was silent. She stared at him. His features were soft and hazy in the light of the fire. The clean scent of his skin and his hair tantalized her. She reached out to run her fingers over his lips, aware of the enormity of her love for this man. “I’ve never known anyone quite like you,” she whispered and leaned toward him to touch her lips to his.
He appeared to let her explore him for awhile, her lips nipping at his, tasting him, but eventually, he gathered her close and deepened the kiss.
“Kristina,” he said after a while as he drew back from her. He crossed his arms over his chest. “I love you,” he signed. “A little too much. I can’t get you out of my mind. You are with me here,” he pointed to his heart, to his head. “Always. In these ways you are never far from me. I love you as I have never loved another.”
He drew her backward until she was lying against the buffalo robe which he had earlier spread on the ground. “I know you worry, and will listen,” he spoke in Lakota, “but for now, let us have this night. Besides, I think our love is strong enough to withstand the storm.”
He smiled at her so sweetly, Kristina fell completely under his spell. His lips met hers, and they made love under a profusion of a million stars, all of which twinkled and shone upon them in a very kindly fashion.
Kristina awoke with a start. She sat up, throwing the buffalo robe from her shoulders.
“Tahiska!”
“He taku hwo!” Tahiska brought Kristina’s hand to his face. “I am here,” he said in Lakota.
Kristina clung to him. The chill of the night air touched her exposed shoulders and with a shock Kristina realized she was still naked; she had drifted off to sleep beside her love, completely nude, something she had never dreamed she would do. She shivered against the cold.
Tahiska sat up, too, and spreading the robe around her, nudged her back till she was lying on the ground. He leaned over her so that he could see her face.
“I cannot live with you,” she spoke in English. “I can’t.”
He stared at her and it took her awhile to realize she had spoken her thoughts aloud. She bit her lip and looked away.
Tahiska didn’t move for a long while. When she leaned back toward him, he was leaning over her, watching her, his features unreadable. Finally he kissed her, a soothing, comforting kiss. He trailed his cheek over hers, nuzzling her ear. “Temachela,” he whispered. “Temachela,” he murmured again, his hand caressing her face, her forehead, her cheeks. “Perhaps I should have let you speak long ago.” His soft words were encouraging.
“What did you say?” Kristina asked, signing so that he understood. His look at her was so passionate, yet so soft, she melted. She felt cloaked in his love—a physical sensation as powerful as their actual lovemaking. How could she possibly tell him she was not his wife? At this moment, she wanted nothing more than to live with him, follow him for the rest of her life. She loved him completely, yet…
“What did I say?” he asked her in Lakota. “Temachela?” He smiled at her, then signed, “I love you.” He motioned at her, asking her to say it with him. “Temachela.” Then he signed again, “I love you.”
“Temachela,” she repeated, then signed back, “I love you, too.”
Tahiska smiled. “I believe,” he gestured quickly before her, “that I have left off listening to you for too long. You are worried and nothing I do dispels it. I will hear you now. Come, let us sit up so that you have room to speak to me in gestures. I will listen.”
He helped her sit up, adjusting the buffalo robe so that it surrounded them both. He smiled at her, then signed, “Why did you, scream? Did you dream?”
“No, Hiya,” Kristina shrugged. “Maybe a little.”
“Tell me it.”
Kristina swallowed hard
. “It wasn’t really a dream, more of a concern.”
Tahiska nodded. “Go on,” he gestured.
Kristina looked away. She had awaited this moment all evening, yet now she found herself reluctant to speak.
She sighed, shut her eyes, bent her head. Finally she began, speaking in English.
“What can I say to you to make you understand we are not truly married?”
He gathered her hands in his, then gently, with only one finger, turned her face to his. He motioned to her hands. “Tell me so that I understand,” he signed.
She drew a deep breath, acutely aware of their nudity, their complete vulnerability. Her eyes were heavy with sleep, and Kristina found it difficult to meet his gaze as she began to sign, “A marriage in my culture takes time. It is a solemn event which is not truly completed until one from our church sanctions it. You do not understand that I am not your wife. I have not agreed, as is part of my culture.”
And though Tahiska’s body stiffened, his face registered nothing. “I am not married to you. I cannot marry you. I can only have…an affair with you.” This last was said aloud.
“What is this affair?” Tahiska’s signs were brisk, though he repeated this last word aloud.
Kristina colored. “It is love without marriage.”
Tahiska’s head shot back. He said nothing.
Silence. Black, gloomy silence. Kristina fidgeted, attempting unsuccessfully to shield her nudity.
“You desire this?”
“I… No, it is only that…a marriage between us would ruin me in the eyes of my people more than a passing fancy,” Kristina signed quickly. “An affair can be forgiven, whereas marriage…? Besides, no one would know if we simply loved. Neither you nor I would have the censure of my people.”
