Sundancer (Cheyenne Series) (21 page)

      
Roxanna felt the loss of his warm body when he suddenly stood up and turned away from her. Had she done something wrong? Been too bold and forward returning his kisses? She longed to be held and caressed again, to feel cherished and desired. “Cain,” she ventured softly, daring to keep her eyes open.

      
He jerked his head up but did not turn as he stood with his hands on the waistband of his pants. He could feel her eyes on his back, picture her softly parted lips as she spoke his name. He felt his shaft straining to be free of the constraining misery of his trousers. Would the sight of his erection frighten her? Once he turned back to her could he keep from falling on her like some wild randy boy? Never in his life had a woman affected him this way! Slowly, carefully he unfastened his pants and pulled them off, fighting all the while for control.

      
Roxanna stared at the rippling symmetry of muscles across his broad shoulders and back. Then her eyes skimmed lower to his small hard buttocks and the long sinuous muscles in his legs. She waited for him to turn back to her, but he did not. Instead he stood still, completely naked in the dim light. His fists were clenched at his sides, his head thrown back. The only sound in the silent room was the deep shuddering sound of his breathing.

      
She sat up, oblivious to the chemise which hung around her waist, baring her breasts. “Cain...what's wrong?”
Come back to me.

      
Slowly he turned to face her, his features contorted with the anguish of fierce desire. He watched her eyes drop to his swollen, straining phallus, then lift quickly. “Nothing's wrong, Alexa.”
Except I want you too much.

      
Roxanna took in the maleness of him, big and hard and hurtful looking. That was all a man's sex had been to her before. But this was Cain, her husband, and there was beauty in his desire, tempering it into something far different than the ugly violence of the past.
Don 't think about that!
She watched the fluid grace of his movements as he stepped up to the bed and placed his knee on the edge of the mattress. His skin was bronzed, lightly furred with black hair across his chest, arrowing into a narrow vee on his washboard belly, then blooming into a thick tuft surrounding his male member.

      
Cain gave her little time for virginal panic, reaching out one hand to take hers. He pulled her up into a kneeling position facing him, then drew her into his arms. She came unresistingly, sliding her arms over his shoulders as he took her mouth in a soft deepening kiss. His arms enveloped her, pressing her tighter against him, tilting her hips to cradle his sex at the juncture of her thighs, then gently rocking back and forth against her.

      
She could feel the pressure of his engorged shaft almost thrusting through the thin barrier of her lace underdrawers. The size and heat seemed magnified as his hips moved against hers subtly while his hands finished the job of unfastening her pantalets and pushing them the rest of the way down her thighs, along with the loose chemise bunched at her waist.

      
“Lie down,” he commanded, releasing her and lowering her to the bed and then following her, partially reclining on his side. He pulled her underwear completely off and tossed it from the bed. She lay completely naked now, her skin pale as cream in the gathering darkness. His fingers stroked the silkiness of her belly, skimming down her thigh and over the curve of her calf, then trailing back up the other leg, pausing to caress the slight swell of her hip.

      
She arched and preened instinctively, like a sunning kitten under the delicate ministrations, forgetting the utter vulnerability of her nakedness and the intimidating size of his phallus. Instead she simply soaked up the tender magic of his touch and his kisses raining soft as butterfly wings across her breasts and belly. But then his knee somehow insinuated itself between her legs, spreading them, and his hand feathered over the soft curls at the juncture of her thighs. Involuntarily her muscles tightened.

      
“No, open to me, Alexa,” he murmured low, feeling her resistance. “I won't hurt you.”
Liar,
his conscience chided, but his body, so long denied surcease, could wait no longer to have her. The creamy moisture he felt when his fingers parted her soft petals told him she would never be more prepared to lose her virginity.

      
Roxanna surrendered to his soft urgent voice and let his hand find her. A sharp frisson of pleasure darted from where he was touching her so intimately, dancing along every nerve ending in her body, seeming to radiate right down to her toes. This had never been a part of her ugly past! She heard a low breathy sob and realized that it was her own voice, urging him to take more.
Now...now!

      
Cain poised at the brink, so eager to plunge inside of her, yet unwilling to tear her delicate flesh. He moved his staff back and forth at her portal, lubricating his way with her generous moisture, then slowly, ever so gently he pushed forward. She was tight, incredibly tight and small, but he felt no other impediment as his thrust deepened bit by tiny bit. He waited for her cry of pain, bracing himself to stop if he hurt her, telling himself that he had the willpower to do it. But she made no sound other than soft breathless little pants as she clung to him.

      
Roxanna waited for the raw burning pain, fully expecting any second to have the hazy veil of heat and pleasure rent asunder. His phallus was large and hard, stretching her as he filled her. There was tightness and discomfort but no pain, only a compelling sense of completion when he seated himself full length inside of her. Her hips arched against his and her nails dug into his shoulders. She could feel his hesitation, as if he was testing her readiness, his body bowstring-taut, ready to explode. Suddenly, she too felt that tension.

      
Cain gritted his teeth to keep from spilling himself when he felt her hot velvet sheath completely envelop him. Then she moved and he was lost. With a guttural oath he rocked up and back, stroking slowly as his mouth sought out hers. He kissed her with far more fierce abandon than he allowed his lower body to exhibit...at first. But then she caught his rhythm, matching his thrusts, holding him with her legs tightly pressing around his hips. Cain could go slow no longer. His strokes grew swifter and fiercer, higher and harder.

      
Roxanna began spiraling out of control, bucking and arching, eager, no, desperate to have him drive even deeper...faster. She squeezed her eyes tighter and concentrated on the ever-widening waves of pleasure that washed over her, wondrously satisfying yet leaving her craving more.

      
More. Had she breathed the word aloud? She did not know, only rode with him, responding to each subtle shift in rhythm, reveling in the hardness of his muscled body pressing against her softness, coarse chest hair tickling sensitive breasts, faint bristles of a whiskered jaw abrading the delicate skin of her throat and face.

      
Then he stiffened suddenly and began to shudder uncontrollably, swelling and pulsing deep, oh, so deep inside of her, and she followed him over the top, unknowing, into a whole new world of such wonder it numbed her mind—but oh, her body! Her body soared with a blissful shattering pleasure that left her at last limp and utterly at peace with satiation.

      
Cain lay over her, his body still pressing hers into the soft mattress as he struggled to regain his breath after the glory of what they had shared. At least he hoped they had shared it. He could feel her arms, still holding him, the pads of her fingers now softly massaging where before her nails had dug in fiercely. He knew female contentment when he saw it...but he was suddenly afraid to look in her eyes. Would they mirror his soul, bare truths to him that he did not want to face?

      
He should harden his heart and pull away from her, roll over and go to sleep, ask nothing, explain nothing. But then her fingertips glided up to his face where it lay buried in the silken nest of her hair. She touched the scar on his cheek, tracing the long narrow path the bullet had taken on that fateful day when he had killed his brother.

      
“How did you get this?” The question was not the one she longed to ask, but it popped suddenly into her mind. He pulled away from her, leaving an empty void that only he could fill. For an instant she feared he would get out of bed and walk away, but he only rolled onto his back beside her and stared at the ceiling above them. Suddenly an icy dread seized her. Does he know?

      
Instead of accusing her, he simply replied to her spoken question. “High-Backed Wolf shot me before I killed him.”

      
She shivered and reached out to him. “You could’ve been killed.”

      
His arm drew her to his side. She fit so naturally that it terrified him. “Not the first time, not the last,” he answered dismissively.

      
Roxanna’s arms tightened around him.
I love you, Cain.
She longed to speak the words but did not dare. What would he say in return? Somehow she intuited that it would not be the answer she wanted. “I...I couldn't bear it if you were killed.”

      
“I wouldn't be real happy about it myself,” he replied lightly, raising up on his elbow to gaze down at her face. “Don't look so worried. I've survived this far. I don't plan on dying anytime soon.”

      
She caressed his jaw, letting the faint bristle of his whiskers tease the sensitive skin of her fingertips, and was rewarded by his sharp intake of breath.

      
“I want you again.”

      
The words seemed forced out of him, but she smiled anyway, reaching up with both arms to pull him to her in a deep, fierce kiss.

* * * *

      
Cain was gone. Roxanna felt the absence of his body heat the moment she awakened with her arm reaching across the big wide bed for him. His pillow was cold, although it still held the indentation left by his head. When she rolled up, a slight ache reminded her of the past night's unaccustomed exertions. Her body was sore, but considering the fierce way her husband had made love to her, she was amazed there was no real pain.

      
The long ride from Vicksburg had been a nightmare of blood and agony. She had believed then that she could never again endure a man's embrace, let one invade her body in such a painful and degrading manner. Yet from the first moment Cain had touched her, she had desired him in spite of her fear, letting go of all past shame and guilt and misery. She lay back and closed her eyes blissfully, remembering the night, the urgency of his passion and her own answering passion.

      
He had not sensed her lack of virginity—or at least she assumed he had not. Surely not, or he would have questioned her...wouldn't he? She sat up and looked around the room. Clothing lay scattered across the carpet. Her beautiful wedding dress was crumpled in a silken heap by the mirror. Various other lacy undergarments and petticoats decorated the floor and chairs. One silk stocking even hung from a lampshade!

      
Then she saw the note, folded and sitting on the dresser by the window. Trembling, she threw back the covers and slipped from the bed, only to realize she wore not a stitch of clothing! Grabbing the bedsheet, she yanked it free and wrapped herself in it, then walked over to the dresser and picked up the note, her heart pounding with dread.

      
My dearest Alexa,

      
You looked so peaceful sleeping and you had such a need of your rest that I did not disturb you.

      
She felt the heat of a blush radiate from deep inside her, remembering why he was so certain that she was exhausted. Steadying the paper, she read the rest.

I have to check the progress of the grading crews west of Laramie and should be back in three or four days. In the meanwhile, Jubal will be in Cheyenne if you need anything. Be ready to leave when I return. We will live on the construction line until the Union Pacific finishes its contract.

Cain

      
No words of love, just the bold slash of his signature. But he did indicate that her place was with him. Surely that meant something. And the terse message had been addressed to “My dearest” Alexa. She felt a renewed sense of hope as she folded the note and prepared to face her first morning as Mrs. Cain.

      
After she had bathed and dressed, she sent a message to Jubal asking to have dinner with him if he had no meetings scheduled. Shortly, a knock sounded at the sitting room door. Assuming it was his reply, she put down the clothing she had begun packing for the trip to Laramie and went to answer it. Her smile froze when she opened the door.

      
“Good morning, Mrs. Cain.” Isobel Darby's voice was ice-cold, but the hot light of triumph glowed in her dark eyes.

      
“What do you want?” The question was automatic even though Roxanna knew the answer.
To ruin me.

      
Isobel's eyes swept over her hated enemy with insolent amusement, like a cat studying a cricket before swatting the life from it. “My, you do look...satiated, I suppose is the right word. Your half-breed buck must have pleased you in bed—but then a slut like you would sleep with any low sort, I imagine.”

      
“You ought to know, since I slept with your husband.” The false smile on Isobel's face vanished and for one moment Roxanna thought the other woman was going to claw at her, but instead Isobel regained her poise.