Lone Star 05 (23 page)

A rustling of cloth interrupted his thoughts. Someone was moving toward him. He raised himself on his elbows, reaching for his
ho-tachi
blade. He pulled the blanket off and sat up, using the gnarled tree trunk as cover, waiting for the sound of further movement. He didn't have to wait long; he heard the soft whisper of cloth again, closer this time.

The weapon poised in his hand, he peered around the tree and, in the darkness, saw the outline of—a woman. It was Cynthia Morris. She was looking around as if lost, walking tentatively in his direction.

Ki shed the blanket completely and stood, in his bare feet. He came out from behind the tree and said, “Are you looking for something?”

The young woman jumped, snapping her head around at the sound of his voice. “Oh—I was just—”

“It is not safe to be walking around at this hour,” he said.

“I know, but I was—I was scared. I don't like staying here where my—my husband was with those mean men. I keep expecting to see his ghost or something.”

Ki chuckled. “The spirits of those men have gone straight to hell. You can be sure of that. He is not going to bother you ever again.”

“I never did properly thank you for saving me the other night. That was awful brave of you,” she murmured, stepping closer to him. “And tonight—when Solomon and that other man, Bailey, were—were mistreating me, you saved me again. I'm mighty grateful to you, Mr. Ki. I don't know that I deserve all this rescuing. Solomon said I brought my punishment upon myself—for all my grievous sins.”

“This belief in sin—I don't fully understand it,” said Ki as he regarded the pretty woman's pale oval face. She was trembling, whether from the night chill or fear of ghosts, he did not know. “But it only seems to make believers miserable. We all do wrong, but if we work to correct it, then we should be forgiven.”

“I like the sound of that,” she replied. “I was never too sure why my husband called me a sinner all the time. I never did anything really bad. I never—well, I didn't do the things he accused me of.”

Ki placed the
ho-tachi
on the ground near his bedroll. “You should try to get some sleep. We have far to ride in the morning.”

“I know, but I'm still scared. You're right—I shouldn't be. But I am.” She stood there looking up into the samurai's dark eyes, pleading for understanding, for a comforting word. She was a pretty girl, strangely untouched by the violence of the harsh world in which she lived. No doubt, even in Skyler she had seen much and yet she remained but a girl—and a very attractive one at that. Her shapely figure was outlined in the clothes she had borrowed from Jessie after her dress had been destroyed by her angry husband in his attempt to rape her.

“I tried so hard to be good,” she was saying.

“Yes, I believe you did.”

Cynthia stood there as if rooted to the ground. “Thank you for that—and for so much else. I—” She turned away from his steady gaze. “I'm no good with words, Mr. Ki. I've always been told that a woman should not speak her mind, that her duty is to obey her husband without question. So when there's something I want to say or to ask—the words are hard to come by.”

“Speak, and I'll listen. You needn't be afraid of me,” Ki assured her.

“Well, I was wondering if—” Again she raised her large round eyes to his. “I don't think I can sleep tonight, I'm so afraid. Would you mind if I shared your bedroll? I promise I'll sleep quietly. Please?”

The girl's request hit Ki with the force of a kick to the gut almost knocking the breath out of him and leaving him speechless. It was the last thing in the world he had expected from a proper Mormon girl—a widow at that. And he didn't quite know what
she
expected—whether she wanted to share more than his blanket.

Cynthia saw his uncertainty and broke in, “If it's no trouble. I don't want to make you uncomfortable or interfere with your own sleep. Just knowing somebody is there will help me stop being afraid.”

Ki framed his reply with care. “You are welcome to sleep with me, if that is what you want. But you have no reason to be afraid now.”

She said, “I'll go get my blanket so we can double up.” She returned with her own bedroll. Then she set to work making an inviting, warm nest for the two of them.

Within a few minutes they lay between the blankets, barely touching one another. Ki, careful not to make any sudden move, yet not sure why she wanted to sleep with him, kept his arms at his side and his face turned away from hers.

But he felt the warmth of her body so close to his, and then he heard her whispering to him. “Mr. Ki? Are you still awake?”

“Yes.”

“Am I disturbing you? Would you rather I went away?”

“No.”

“Could I ask you one more favor?”

“Yes.”

Her voice was now throaty, coming from deep within her. “Will you make love to me? I need it—please. I need to know I'm alive. I wouldn't ask, but—”

Ki turned and put his finger to her lips. Already he felt the inevitable surge of desire in his loins. “You mustn't be afraid, Cynthia. Ever—of anyone.” He put his arms around her. She squeezed herself against him, hungry for his touch.

“Ki,” she said softly, as if it were the only word she knew.

He kissed her then on her full, lush lips, stroking her hair. She was soft and she was pretty—and she was here under his blanket. He was only responding as any man would.

With his other hand he cupped her breast through the borrowed blouse. She moaned almost inaudibly. She removed the blouse herself, offering him both breasts, which were round and firm with rosy pink nipples that stood erect in the cool air. Again he cupped a breast, running his hand over the soft flesh, raking the nipple with his slender fingers. She emitted a soft cry of delight, her eyes tightly closed.

As he explored her body with his hands, she relaxed, allowing him to slip off her under garments. He felt the soft swell of her stomach and the smooth slenderness of her white thighs, running his fingers down her leg and then around to her quivering buttocks. She responded by moving against him, slowly at first, then more quickly. She felt his lean, hard body full-length against hers.

“Do what you want with me,” she urged him. “I'm yours tonight. Make love to me.”

Ki released her and took off his own shirt and pants. With a sigh of anticipation, she tentatively reached for his growing erection. When her fingers touched him, he felt a jolt of white heat. She wrapped her fingers around his hardness and squeezed him.

He took her nipple between his fingers, pinching softly, and she arched her back slightly, not releasing his erect member. He felt her hand run up and down the length of his shaft, squeezing, pumping. She held on to his neck with her other hand and pulled his lips to hers yet again. This time she was the complete aggressor in their long kiss as her hand held his stiffness.

Then his hand snaked from her buttocks to work its way between her legs, which were clamped together like a virgin's. He found himself wondering if Solomon Morris had encountered this same combination of desire and fear in her. As they kissed, she relaxed and parted her thighs slightly, allowing his hand to slide up their smoothness. She gasped as his fingers found the warm wet place where her legs met. He felt the soft lips and ran his hand up onto the furry mound of Venus and then down again to the inviting region, rubbing the lips, trying to awaken further the animal need in her.

Cynthia cooed at his touch and spread her legs, giving him all the access he wanted. She held on to his rod with all her strength, as if it were a safety line and she'd die if she let go. She squeezed him even harder. He grunted in rough counterpoint to her soft feminine sighs.

Then he plunged his middle finger into her. He pushed it all the way in, and she squirmed and a moan welled up from her throat.

Her sadness and fear were gone, replaced now with a hunger for love, for fulfillment with this handsome foreigner who was taking her into the wild night sky of passion. His finger went in and out, and she felt her own lubricating juices begin to flow.

She released his throbbing shaft and flung both arms around his muscular shoulders, rocking with the motion of his plunging finger. He added another finger, pushing them both into her tightness, and she groaned with appreciation. She opened her eyes and looked through the pale light at his serious face; he pressed against her and she felt his stiff member at her side.

She was much hotter, much more demanding than Ki had expected. And this aroused him immensely. He bent his head and kissed her white neck, licking at it and sucking the flesh. He pulled his fingers from her and wrapped his arms around her waist, moving his mouth farther down, over her chest to her proud breasts. He trapped a nipple between his teeth and began sucking and nibbling on it. Her moans grew louder as he toyed with her breast, stroking with his tongue, teasing with his teeth.

“Ki, Ki,” she cried, as if he were miles distant.

“Quiet. Just relax and do not awaken the others,” he said, barely able ‘to speak himself. He pressed his aching erection more insistently against her soft thigh.

“I can't take it anymore,” she said. She fumbled for his stiff rod and grasped it firmly. Her thumb pressed on its head and she rubbed it around and around. “I want you inside me, Ki. I must have you.”

The warrior gave her nipple one last flick of the tongue and pushed himself up beside her as she pumped him. Then he lifted himself over on top of her and came down gently until their bodies were pressed hotly together.

“Put me in, Cynthia,” he commanded huskily.

The girl obeyed. He thought for a moment that he'd go blind with need. She took him inside her welcoming sheath, and he was lost in the depths of her.

Slowly he pushed all the way in with one thrust, and then retreated and then plunged fully inside her again. The tightness enveloped his engorged member. He jerked involuntarily at the exquisite sensation it created. He increased the pace and she lifted her legs and locked them around his back. Her warm thighs pressed against his waist and her heels dug deeply into his taut buttocks.

Before he knew it he was pumping furiously. Her legs tightened around his back and she met his thrusts with a jerky movement of her pelvis, pushing up to meet his plunging sex. Their bodies were fused and they melted into each other as climax approached.

Ki held her to him as they made love, conscious of both her supple body and her hungry young mind and heart—she was giving him all of herself, and it was more than a mindless animal mating. For her it was a spiritual event, a much-needed cleansing and renewal.

“Oh Lord, oh, Lord!” she exclaimed. They moved together, their bodies crushing against each other in the deep, wild need they both felt. Ki went in as deeply as he could and then withdrew almost all the way before thrusting back into her.

He uttered a long, low growl as he felt the contractions of her internal muscles. She was coming now.

She was no longer the vulnerable Mormon girl, abused by the community that had trapped her all her life. She was a full-grown independent woman now, and she felt like only a full-grown woman could—filled up with her man, and nothing else in the whole world mattered at the moment.

Ki could not control himself much longer. He plunged hard and fast until the wave of his own climax began to break over him. She bucked like a wild thing beneath him, meeting his thrusts with urgent movements of her own.

Yellow and white flares exploded in his mind as he came deep inside her, filling her.

It seemed to take forever to stop as Cynthia thrashed beneath him and his own excitement spilled itself out of the cup of his desire. He had held off as long as he could, but it was nearly over. His eyes closed, his arms tightly holding her, he finished in exhaustion, then collapsed on top of the girl.

They lay like that, in silent embrace, her quiet contractions slowly fading away into nothingness and his own sex growing soft in its warm sheath. Then he withdrew and rolled off her. But she nestled up beside him, her warm arm over his chest, her head on his shoulder.

When she had regained her breath, she said, “Thank you, Ki.”

“You do not have to thank me, Cynthia. I only did as any man would have done. You are a beautiful girl—you should get married again and have a man to please you all the time.”

“I don't think there is any other man like you. You're so—I don't know, it feels so different with you. More than me just lying there and you on top—like it was with my husband. He never cared what I felt or what I wanted. But you—”

“Do not talk about it,” Ki said. “You must work it out for yourself. You are a smart girl and you'll do well.”

“All right, Ki, if you say so. Good night.”

“Good night, Cynthia.”