The Renegade's Woman (8 page)

He snatched the leather strip from her hand and wound it twice just above his turgid sac. "Tie it. "

Her mouth parted, but she obeyed, dropping down in front of him to take the ends of the thong in her fingers. Delicately, she tied them.

"Tighter, " he said.

On her knees, she looked up, and he nearly lost control. Her moist, plump lips were a mere whisper from his quivering lance. He had only to sway forward, and she would eagerly play out one of his most favored fantasies.

He groaned. "Tighter!"

She jerked the ends of the thong in surprise, and he almost fainted.

"Good, " he croaked, sucking in a breath. "That is good. "

"Standing Bear--"

Teeth gritted, he ordered, "Make a knot. "

She did as he demanded and he hissed out the breath between his teeth. He grasped her head between his hands and held her there, waiting for his eyesight to clear.

He should be limp as a three-legged wolf, but he could feel his staff standing straight and tall. Unbelievable. What could explain this insatiable lust for the woman, and the mystical powers she held over his male parts?

With the deliberate pace of a mountain lion closing in on its prey, he slowly pulled her face closer. Her eyes widened, then fastened on the center of his voracious hunger.

"Lick me, " he ordered, low and rough.

He'd gone Windigo. No doubt about it. As insane as one of the Crazy Men. He may as well daub himself with white clay and be done with it, instead of standing here, compelling his beautiful woman to take him in her mouth on the one day he must not hear the thunder.

But every warrior had to seek his vision his own way. And this way would serve him well. He would feel as much torment today as he would for the rest of his life if he let her walk into the setting sun on the trail of wagons.

Her dewy lips sought his flesh and placed one of her sweet kisses on him. Her tongue crept out, and shyly flicked over him. He jerked in response, wanting more. Wanting to force her mouth over his cock, to put an end to this agony of frustration.

Blood pounded through his veins like a war drum as he watched her lips and tongue explore him, more confidently now. Each moist stroke and lap had his insides in knots, clawing to erupt. The thong went only so far to deaden his powerful need to climax.

Finally, he could take no more of the exquisite punishment. "Enough!" he ground out and pulled her mouth away. Lowering her down beneath him on the blanket, he resisted the nearly overwhelming urge to mate with her.

"Now it is my turn. "

He would take it slow. He would stay in control.

Looking around the meadow, he spotted several things he could use in his quest to make her body sing with his own enchantment. He rose and gathered a bunch of long grasses that ended in feathery seed clusters, a few sprigs of spearmint growing near the water, a handful of round, hard berries from a nearby bush, and a length of strong, thin vine.

"Are you going to tie me up?" she asked, eyeing the vine.

He gave her a slow smile. "Would you like me to?"

"No, no. That's quite all right, " she hastened to say, but he could see in her eyes she would not mind if he did.

"I will tie you up if you try to escape me, " he said, offering to play the game if she wished. He unwound the sweetgrass rope from his neck and shoulder and laid it on the blanket above her head. "But remember, I caught you last time. "

The bright color of her eyes darkened to the clear, deep blue of the sky after the winter sun has set. In them, he saw the memories of the first time he'd caught her. And his heart sent out a prayer of thanks to the forest spirits who had led him to her.

"You were so handsome, " she murmured. "When I saw you, sitting on your horse by the stream, you looked so wild and free. I wanted to be yours from the very first moment I saw you. "

He positioned her arms above her head, basking in her adoration like a turtle in the sun. "Were you not afraid?"

"Terrified. " She watched him bend her legs and spread them apart. "That you wouldn't touch me. "

He picked up one of the long weed stalks, looked at her and smiled. "You had nothing to fear. Even if a troop of Horse Soldiers had guarded you, I would have found a way to steal you away. " She was his. He just had to figure out how to keep her without starting a war.

Running the feathery weed over her knee, he considered where he should begin his sensual assault on her body. Her doe eyes focused on the spiky weed tuft. A look of comprehension dawned in them as she followed the upward movement of the stalk. He tickled the inside of her thigh before sweeping it up over her belly and breasts, and grunted in satisfaction when a shudder racked her body. Yes, a little erotic torture would go a long way to distracting him from his own test of will.

"What are you doing now?" Sally peered at Standing Bear, breathless with frustration. Her body thrummed with sexual need and the man was stringing berries like it was Christmas Eve.

"You must learn to have patience, " he answered with a devilish grin, and poked holes through three nickel-sized green berries with a bone needle from his medicine pouch. "Don't move. "

He hadn't let her so much as stir while he'd played over her body with his delicate instrument of torment. Every inch of her skin was aroused from the tickling he'd given her with the soft tip of the grass stalk. He hadn't missed a single spot on her whole body. Some places, like her nipples, he'd circled again and again until every pore was a bundle of sizzling want, screaming for the more substantial touch of his hands and mouth.

She would never look at weeds again in quite the same light.

"Do I get to tickle you, too?"

He looked up and scowled fiercely. "No. "

"Here, " he said, and popped a few leaves of spearmint into her mouth. "Suck on these. "

He placed a sprig into his own mouth and slowly chewed it as he strung the berries onto one end of the thin, smooth vine and tied them in place about an inch apart. The other end of the vine he trimmed to within a foot of the first berry.

Setting it aside, he spit out his mint leaves and pulled hers from between her lips. Then he lowered himself down on top of her.

Unable to resist, she wound her arms around his neck. "Forget your vision, Standing Bear, " she murmured. "I want you. "

"Taste me, " he urged, and his mouth came down on hers. A shock of icy coolness surprised her when their tongues clashed. She shivered, delighted with the sharp, chilly taste of mint as his mouth devoured hers.

His lips moved down her throat toward her breasts. "Mmm. That feels incredible. "

Each time he licked and nipped at her skin, its already sensitive surface jumped like a thousand tiny snowballs were rubbing over it.

"Oh!" His mouth captured her nipple and her breath hitched at the cold, wet jolt of sensation. Lord have mercy! He tongued her breasts until she was quivering all over. Her womb wept for him. She ground her thighs against his iron-hard rod, yearning for relief.

"Come inside me, " she coaxed.

But he refused to bend to her wishes. Instead, he moved further down, licking her belly, her hips, her thighs. When he reached her mound, he paused to chew another sprig of mint, and spread her legs wide apart.

"Please, Standing Bear. Please!" she begged, craving his skillful tongue on the pearl of her throbbing need. Craving his thick, hard length plunging into her.

He looked at her from his place between her legs, his eyes black and swirling with dark, feral desire. He removed the mint from his mouth.

And picked up the string of berries.

Chapter Six

Sally couldn't imagine what Standing Bear had in mind for those berries, but he didn't give her a chance to ponder it. His mouth surrounded her aching flesh and all thought ceased. The ice from his tongue was like a bolt of lightening between her legs. Need shot from her center in streaks of hot-cold sensation.

She cried out his name.

"How does this feel?"

She moaned. "I-- I can't--"

"Good. " He licked all around, up and down, drenching her in a trail of molten ice.

Suddenly, she felt something hard and round slide down her crease, then press into her back entry and slip inside. Surprised, she jumped. But then his minty tongue was on her again, swirling frosty circles around her taut bud so she nearly swooned. She'd never felt anything so amazing in her life. She arched into him, seeking the turbulent relief quickly closing in on her.

Once again, something smooth and round breached her from behind. "Oh! Standing Bear, what--" Suddenly, she realized...

"Do you like it?"

The string of berries, part inside, part out, felt wickedly arousing -- completely different from his probing finger of the other night, but equally, sinfully, erotic. The tickle of the vine as he played it over her derriere made her wiggle in delight.

"Yes, " she whispered.

"You are a very naughty girl, " he told her, and grinned.

She thought about what her sister and friends on the wagon train would think of her if they knew what this wild renegade was doing to her right now. And how much she liked it. And she realized she could never, ever, go back to the strict, confining life she'd led with those kind, but narrow-minded, people.

"You make me want to be naughty, " she confessed in tones of heated passion. "But only with you. "

"How naughty do you want to be?" he quietly asked, nipping at her with his teeth.

Before she could answer, he blew a stream of chilly air straight into her and she convulsed into a blazing inferno of snowflakes and hot lava. His fingers and tongue spread and slicked over her, arousing her to a fever pitch. For the third time, she experienced the sharp sting of round, forbidden penetration.

Standing Bear's minty lips and tongue sucked and swirled. His fingers coaxed. The lascivious stimulation of the berries made her heat with scandalous excitement.

And drove her over the edge. A fierce orgasm tore through her, racking her with savage pleasure. She reached the peak, grabbed for his head, raked her fingers through his hair. She felt a tug on her bottom, and suddenly the berries popped out in three quick snaps.

She gasped in mute shock.

And came all over again.

Standing Bear wouldn't stop licking her until she gave him two more shuddering climaxes. When he finally crawled up and hugged her to his chest, she was replete and totally exhausted.

His huge erection pressed into her thigh.

"Oh, you must be miserable!" she said and drew back to look into his eyes. In them she saw frustration, but also a gleam of male satisfaction.

"I will have a powerful vision, " he said wryly, and put his lips to her forehead.

"I'll make up for this tomorrow, " she promised, but instead of getting a smile, she felt him sigh. "What is it, Standing Bear?"

He stroked her hair. "The Trading Day with the wagons is in three suns. I must help my uncle prepare the tribe to bring their goods to the meeting place. "

Alarmed, she sat up. "Where will I be? Surely I can help you?"

"I will take you back to the wagons now. "

"But--" She shook her head. "No! I can't go back. I won't!"

"You must. " He scrubbed his face with his hands. "If I take you with me, the Horse Soldiers will come to our village. People will die. You were right. Black Crow was right. I was foolish to ever think I could have you. "

"What are you saying?" She grasped his arms, aghast at what she was hearing. "Don't you want me?"

He pulled her down again and laid her hand over his powerful arousal. "Feel how much I want you. How much I will always want my Pale As Moonlight. Without you by my side I am half a man. " He closed his eyes, his face etched in agony. "But I cannot put my people in danger. "

Oh, holy mother of God. He was going to leave her. After everything she'd given him, everything he had taught her, he would let her go.

"No, " she sobbed, tears seeping over her lashes. "I don't want your people to suffer, but I can't give you up. Standing Bear, please--"

His arms came around her, soothing her despair. "My vision will tell us what to do. I will find a way for us to be together. "

"Promise?"

His eyes spoke the sincerity of his words. "I promise. "

His vision was a nightmare of blood and death.

Mute and invisible, he was forced to endure wave upon wave of faceless Horse Soldiers riding through his village slaughtering his family and friends, over and over again. Before his horrified eyes, he relived his mother's rape, his father's screams as the bayonets found his soft belly. His uncle shot down protecting his baby niece, and Whistling Hills' head bashed with the butt of a cavalry rifle. The terrified cries of his people, the taste of blood and gunpowder on his tongue, it all sickened him. He wanted to die.

The whole time Standing Bear was powerless to do anything. The people did not hear his warning yells, his club sailed right through the soldiers' bodies like they were ghosts, and he couldn't find his Winchester. He ran to the Council Fire and pounded his club into the ground there, tethering himself by his Badger Man sash. But no one would fight him. No one could see him.