Deborah Camp (23 page)

“Blade, I asked you a question.”

His eyes grew heavy-lidded and his breathing became choppy. Elise relaxed a little. He wanted her. She could see the hunger in his eyes. Confident
again, she pulled at the ribbons on the front of her chemise, but only managed to knot them.

“Let me.” He brushed her hands aside and unlaced her chemise with skillful, steady fingers. She noted that he seemed quite knowledgeable about women’s undergarments and how to remove them swiftly.

He bared her breasts, and she could have sworn she saw flames leap in his eyes. His tongue laved the sensitive skin between them. Elise clutched at his hair and rode a series of tremors that raced through her.

He pushed her dress and petticoats down over her hips. “I can fight you no more,” he confessed throatily. “I hope you don’t regret this.”

“I hope
you
don’t.”

“I won’t, don’t you worry. I’ve wanted you almost from the first moment I saw you.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “You have?”

“Oh, yes. The dark fire of your hair …” He brushed a hand over it, gathered the ends and held them to his nose. “It begged for my hands to become tangled in it. And the perfect oval of your face asked to be traced by my fingers.” His fingertips moved from her forehead around to her chin. He touched his tongue to her lips. Elise’s tongue peeked out to caress his. He opened his mouth wide over hers, suckling, drawing her very spirit into him.

Her bones liquefied and she lay back on the floor. He moved above her, his face and body filling her vision. On arms straining with muscle, he lowered his upper body until he was resting lightly upon her. His mouth flirted around her ear, her cheek. He trailed a fingertip along one side of her face and across her moist lips.

“You’re so beautiful, how can it be that you’re my bride? What did I ever do to deserve such riches?”

Elise could hardly breathe. Her heart expanded, crowding her chest and throat with rapturous emotion. Was he truly saying these things to her, or was this a dream? If a dream, she wished to sleep forever, for she would never tire of his raspy voice, his wondrous words, his flirting tongue.

“At the clothesline that day … remember?”

“Oh, yes,” she said, sighing. How could she forget?

“I have never wanted a woman so much in all my life. Your mouth tasted sweeter than honey.” He kissed her, his tongue dipping into the honey-pot. “When I look at you, I can’t believe that you have been placed in my path. I think that you can’t be happy here. You are too fine for this place, too fine for this man.”

She smoothed her thumbs over his high, proud cheekbones. “I’ve been your blushing bride for too long. Make me your wife, Blade Lonewolf. Make me your woman.”

W
ith the lamps extinguished and only flashes of lightning illuminating the room, Elise and Blade rose and finished undressing each other. A sweet fever built within Elise as she accepted Blade’s whispers of appreciation and anticipation.

The sight of his nakedness awed her. She pressed the palms of her hands upon his chest, so taut, so powerfully muscled. The intricate tattoos were barely visible, and only when lightning sizzled brightness into the room. His wide torso tapered to his waist and hips. His stomach was flat, ridged with muscle. Elise stared at his manhood, stunned by its size, its color, its shape, everything about it. It thrust from a nest of dark hair, proud and erect. She wanted to touch it, but she didn’t, unsure how he would react to such an advance on her part.

He took her in his arms, his mouth moving over hers, his body angling hers down until she lay on the floor beneath him. She stroked his back as his mouth continued to court hers with soft, plucking kisses. He tucked her more securely beneath his big body and kissed her until her lips felt swollen and slick.

His tongue tapped against her lips and she
opened her mouth wide for the magic he could create. She traded tongue caresses with him, stroking and sliding and making purring noises of pleasure deep in her throat. She couldn’t get enough of him. Clutching at his shoulders, she ran her hands restlessly over his back and down his spine to his hips. Kneading his tight buttocks, she pulled him closer, wanting that connection her body craved. He stroked her from shoulder to thigh, his fingers spread wide, his tongue spearing her mouth, his hips beginning to rock forward and back.

He caught her behind one knee and brought her leg up to ride high on his hip. His hard member was impossible to ignore. Elise directed one hand down between their bodies and discovered hot, satiny skin. She made a fist around him. He stilled and his breath whistled down his throat as he flung back his head, eyes closed, mouth pulled in a grimace.

“I don’t mean to hurt you,” she said, her fingertips dancing lightly up and down his length.

“You’re not hurting me,” he said between gritted teeth.

“Then why are you grimacing?”

He lowered his head to her exposed breasts and flicked one stiff nipple with the curled tip of his tongue. Pleasure shot through her like an arrow and Elise arched her back and moaned.

“Why are you doing that?” he asked, kissing the pebbled center of her other breast “Could it be that it feels so good that you think you might die?”

“Oh, yes,” she breathed, her fingers tightening on his organ again. He was so big, so thick! Her thumb explored the moist tip. He emitted a ragged sound and kissed her hard and long. When Elise
grew dizzy, she broke free of his mouth. “You take my breath away!”

“Then let me give it back.” His sipping lips skimmed down her throat, seared the skin between her breasts and danced like a flame over her stomach.

Her quick series of gasps evolved into panting when he nuzzled the thick thatch of auburn curls. She parted her thighs. He tasted her, his tongue delving, exploring. She shivered and the room swam before her eyes.

“Oh, no, no,” she begged, clutching his head. “You shouldn’t do that.”

“I want all of you,” he murmured. “You taste like milk and honey, my sweet wife.”

Sweet wife
. She melted beneath him.

Was this the Indian way? she wondered, her thoughts hazy and malformed like wisps of smoke. Was this how the Apache men made love to their women? With their mouths and tongues on those most private of places?

The mysteries of their bodies overwhelmed her. She grew moist and heavy. Her body throbbed with a hundred pulses and a roaring commenced in her ears. Something shifted in her stomach, then spiraled through her body as he continued to nuzzle her, kiss her, caress her. Elise drove her fingers through his hair and held on tight as a powerful force thundered through her body. She shuddered violently, her throat flexing and releasing sounds of wonder, of passion, of carnal pleasure.

When she returned from that shattering apex, she blinked and saw that Blade had shifted to fit his hips between her thighs. He smiled at her and pushed a damp lock of her hair off her temple. Gently, slowly, he guided himself into her. His intrusion
shocked her body, making it tighten. He waited.

“I … I’m sorry,” she murmured, but he shook his head and pressed tender kisses to her lips.

“I am satisfied. Don’t be sorry.”

With horror, she realized he was preparing to leave her. She clutched his hips and pulled him toward her.

“I am
not
satisfied,” she told him. “And I won’t be until we are one.”

“But, Elise, you are small and I—”

She gripped him and guided him to her. Locking her heels at the base of his spine, she proved her determination by thrusting her hips forward. He caught her buttocks in his hands and lifted her higher to receive him.

Bracing himself, he entered her slowly, experimentally. Elise’s body accepted him, adjusted to him, gloved him. She knew a moment of knifing pain that brought sudden tears to her eyes, but passion reigned supreme. She sank her teeth into her lower lip and held onto Blade’s shoulders, unsure of what to do, but wanting to do right by him. She’d never known anyone like him. From her tragedy had come this man, making up for much of the sadness she’d endured since her parents’ deaths. And now he was smiling at her, his brown eyes warm with understanding and tenderness, his hands gentle and instructive.

He moved in and out of her and she cleaved to him, so caught up in the myriad of new sensations that she was barely able to initiate anything. She had time only to react by kissing him feverishly, by kneading his shoulders and upper arms and by wrapping her legs around his undulating hips as he took her on a journey to fulfillment.

He filled her completely. He commanded her wholly. Her earlier notions of lovemaking fell to ashes. Something shattered inside her, releasing waves of pleasure. She heard herself moaning. She felt her head thrashing as shudders convulsed her. Bright lights flashed behind her eyelids and she murmured Blade’s name as if in a fever. She kissed his shoulder and gave a little whimper when he burst inside her in a shower of embers.

Collapsing in her arms, he breathed her name on a long, languid sigh. He held her against his warm body as rain tapped against the windowpanes and the thunder grew distant. Elise skimmed her fingertips down his spine and breathed in his musky scent.

She belonged to him now. Body and soul.

Elise had no idea when she fell asleep. Blade’s soft, probing lips awakened her. She found herself still on the floor with Blade lying beside her. He held a long feather—an eagle’s feather, she thought—and he used it to trace a pattern around her breasts, down around her navel, back up to her nipples. She grabbed his wrist to stop him.

“How long have I been asleep?”

“Minutes.”

She raised her head to look across the room. It was no longer darkest night. The rain clouds had dispersed and the moon had emerged.

“More than minutes,” she corrected him. “We didn’t wake up Penny, did we?”

“No.” He kissed her cheek. “And it’s hours before dawn. How do you feel?” His gaze flashed to her lower body. “Can I do anything for you?”

She stroked his rough cheek with the back of her hand. “Yes, you can make love to me again.”

His brows lifted. “Now?”

“Do you have something better to do?”

He laughed wickedly and cupped her between the legs. Her squeak of shock was muffled by his mouth and tongue. When the kiss finally ended, Elise glanced over his shoulder, suddenly worried about Penny finding them.

“Let’s go to your bedroom, Blade,” she suggested. “Just in case Penny gets up early or needs to visit the outhouse.”

“I like it here.”

“But Penny might—”

He denied her request by plucking kisses from her lips and caressing her nipples with the feather. Again her bones melted and all rational thought fled. She moved with him, returned his feverish kisses and accepted him once more into her body. Though it was a tight fit, it was a wondrous pleasure, for he filled all her emptiness and touched off fiery sparks deep, deep inside her. She loved the way his body surged against hers, the guttural sounds he emitted, the manipulation of his fingers on her breasts and mound, the slippery, sucking slide of him. He was a powerful beast moving over her, yet she felt in control until that shattering moment when both of them were controlled by passion alone.

She was keenly aware of his release into her body and she realized that what they were doing went beyond earthy pleasure. They could be making a baby.

A baby. She closed her eyes and held him fast. His breath spread against the side of her face, and his body was slick with perspiration. No doubt he would be a good father and she would be a loving mother, but would they be wise to have a child
before she was certain of his happiness with her? Because she wasn’t sure of anything about him. Even now she sensed him holding back. She had his body, but not his heart.

Over his shoulder, she spied the bedroom doors, side by side, both closed. One, it seemed, was permanently shut to her. Julia’s room.

His refusal to bed her in that room rankled Elise. Why was he clinging to Julia’s memory? Sometimes she felt that he was struggling with guilt when he thought of Julia. But why? What had he done to feel guilty about? And what kind of marriage had he had with Julia? The questions buzzed, but she doubted that Blade would be in the mood to answer them. She knew she should be happy that she’d convinced him to exercise his husbandly duties. At least she had dispelled his silly opinion of small-framed white women.

Now she had only to win his trust and his heart. She sighed heavily at the thought.

“What’s wrong?” Blade raised his head to look at her. “Are you regretting becoming my wife?”

She smiled and curled a lock of his inky hair around her finger. “Of course not.” She snuggled into his embrace, using his arm as a pillow.

She realized she’d been wrong in what she wanted. She didn’t want to be only his wife. She wanted to be his one, true love.

Something, she suspected, Julia had never been.

Pouring Blade another cup of coffee the next morning, Elise blew playfully at the black hair curling over his collar. “You need a haircut.”

She placed the coffeepot on the stove and started to resume her place at the table, but he caught her around the waist and hauled her into his lap. He
kissed her lips, her throat, the underside of her jaw.

Elise looked past his shoulder to the front door, keeping an eye out for Penny, who was gathering eggs and feeding the chickens.

“Do you think Penny noticed there was something different about us this morning?” She combed his hair with her fingers, flicking a dark lock so that it fell rakishly across his forehead.

“What would she notice?” His voice was muffled against her skin. His tongue tickled over a fluttering pulse behind her ear.

“Well, that we … can’t keep our eyes off each other.”

He chuckled and looked at her. “Or our hands.” Even as he said it, his fingers worked two buttons free on her dress. “Your breasts are the prettiest I’ve ever seen, my Elise. So white with those pink nipples. And they taste better than ice cream or honey or any sweet thing I can imagine.”