Cherish the Dream

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Cherish the Dream Page 32

by Kathleen Harrington


  He had said they would not wear clothes to bed. Just the thought of lying naked in his arms brought a surge of longing. The nihpihist shielded her from her husband’s lustful desires, but what about her own? It was her own self-control that would be tested that night.

  “I thought we’d take a swim before going to bed,” he said.

  She whirled around, thankful for the unexpected reprieve. “I’d love that!”

  His lips twitched in a playful smile. “It’ll be a little cool, but it should feel good after the heat of the day.” He led her outside, mounted War Shield, and reached down to pull her up in front of him.

  “We’ll go a little ways upriver so we can have some privacy.”

  Theodora sat up straight to avoid touching him. Perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea, she told herself. But the thought of returning to the empty lodge didn’t seem any better a solution. “I hope the water’s not too cold,” she said, building an alibi for changing her mind if it became necessary.

  “You’ll get used to it.” He pulled her back, the muscular arm around her waist pinning her to him. Her buttocks were wedged between his massive thighs.

  Her emotions were a turmoil of confusion and contradiction. She wanted to swim with him, to lie with him, to press closer and ever closer to him. But she was afraid she wouldn’t be satisfied with just that. She shouldn’t continue, but she couldn’t stop.

  He dismounted and lifted her down. He’d found a small, still inlet protected on three sides by a thick stand of cotton woods and berry bushes. The last rays of dusk had faded and moonlight lit the water.

  Blade dropped his breechclout and splashed quickly into the river. He dove under and came up, then tossed his thick hair. The droplets of water sprayed out. around him like diamonds. He tread water and grinned at her. “Come on, little bluenose. Let’s see if you remember what I taught you.”

  Uncertain if he was referring to the past swimming lesson or the recent instruction in lovemaking, Theodora watched him cautiously. She’d never wanted anything more than she wanted to join him now. She pulled her dress over her head and stepped into the water. He was right. It was cold!

  She let out a yelp of protest. Before she could turn and retrace her steps, he splashed up beside her and grabbed her hand.

  “Keep moving,” he ordered, the laughter in his voice enticing her further. “You’ll be fine in a few minutes.”

  “You mean I’ll be too numb to feel anything,” she protested. But she followed him out until they were both treading water.

  The feel and smell of being outdoors in the moonlight was captivating. The river was black, except for the silvery reflection of its lapping waves. Overhead, the night sky was filled with stars. The only sound was the splash of the water and their voices as they talked softly. Following his lead, Theodora swam beside him. When he dove, she dove. When he surfaced, she came up right behind him. It was a thrill to find that she hadn’t forgotten what he’d taught her. With him, she had no fear of the water. She laughed out loud from the sheer joy of it.

  He tread water next to her. “You’re a quick learner, princess.”

  “Why do you call me that?” she demanded in mock irritation. “I understand the so-called humor in ‘little bluenose,’ but I can’t for the life of me see the relevancy of ‘princess.’ Or do you do it just to annoy me?”

  He placed his hand on her waist and pulled her to him. Amusement flickered over his rugged features. “The first time I laid eyes on you, I thought you looked like a princess from a fairy tale.”

  At her astonished look he smiled lopsidedly. “My grandmother in New Orleans insisted on teaching me to read. At thirteen, under her supervision, I read all the French children’s tales I’d never heard before.”

  She tapped one finger on his furry chest with every word she spoke. “You told me I looked like a prudish New England spinster whose only knowledge of life came from books.” She stuck her lower lip out in a pout.

  His unrepentant reply was immediate. “I lied.”

  Chapter 22

  The silver flecks in Blade Stalker’s black eyes glittered in the moonlight. He grinned at her with such wicked glee that Theodora had to retaliate. She placed her hands against his broad shoulders and pushed with all her strength in a mighty attempt to dunk him under the water. Remorseless, he tipped his head back and laughed at her futile efforts. Determined to make him suffer, she wrapped both arms around his neck and hung on, forcing her body to go limp against him in the hope she’d pull him under. She was as successful as a butterfly trying to wrestle a buffalo to the ground. His arms moved in and out with powerful strokes as he tread the water. The fact that he enjoyed her impotent struggles became obvious when he chuckled, bent his head, and nibbled on her earlobe.

  She realized she was making no headway, released him, and moved back. Valiantly, she tried to keep the laughter from her voice. “All right. You asked for it.” Pounding both hands against the surface, she sent geysers of water spraying over his head and shoulders. Her sudden change of tactics caught him off guard, and before he could grab her, she screamed in mock terror, dove under the water, and headed toward shore.

  In two strokes he caught up with her. He caught her waist and pulled her to him. Even under the dark water, his mouth found hers, and he kissed her roughly, passionately, possessively. As they came up for air, he clasped her tightly to him, and she felt his rigid shaft pressing against her thigh. When they went under again, his hands were all over her body, gliding across her bare buttocks and hips, her stomach and breasts .

  Resurfacing in his embrace, she shook her head to let him know she had to stay up. She clung to him as she drew in great gasps of air.

  “I yield!” she cried in a hoarse, exhausted voice. She tried not to laugh for fear she’d swallow more water.

  At her words his expression of playfulness changed. With one strong hand, he held her above the surface. The hoarseness in his voice was not exhaustion, but desire. “Then surrender to me, Theodora. Let me show you the pleasures I can bring. What you felt last night was only the beginning. Take off the string, love.”

  She looked at his hawkish features, softened in the moon light. No matter what happened in the years ahead, she’d never meet a man she would want as much as him. He was entirely unsuitable. And she was completely and irresistibly in love with him. Her efforts to follow the dictates of her scholar’s reasoning rather than her woman’s heart had failed abysmally. From some corner of her mind a small voice chided: Why not? Why not have the memories of these next few days to treasure? If their lives must go in opposite directions, couldn’t she have, at least, these rare golden moments when she could demonstrate in actions the love she could never put into words?

  The confusion, the turmoil of her warring emotions must have been written on her lifted face, for he smiled tenderly in understanding. “Let’s go in now, zehemehotaz. “

  They returned to their lodge in silence, mounted on War Shield. As she leaned against his solid chest, Blade’s arms surrounded her. She’d pulled her dress on over her wet skin and it clung to her, revealing the mounds of her breasts; her puckered nipples were clearly outlined beneath the soft ante lope skin. He had replaced only his breechclout, and his cold thighs were sheened with water.

  When they entered the tipi, he stirred the smoldering embers of the cooking fire to provide a flickering light, then moved to the mattress and removed his last garment.

  Immobile, Theodora watched him. Would she ever cease to be amazed at his magnificent physical stature, at the vitality that emanated from him like a living force? He must have felt her steady gaze, for his eyes sought hers in wordless communion. Without a sound she lifted her dress over her head, folded it, and laid it aside. She bent over her bare thigh, her wet hair falling about her face like a golden screen, and began to untie the nihpihist. The rawhide was tight from her swim, and she had to struggle to release her bonds. Finally, the string came loose, and she turned to the binding on her other
leg. Her cold fingers trembled as she worked, impeding her progress. But at last that knot, too, was free.

  Theodora caught the cord before it fell away and curled it in the palm of her hand. Looking up, she met the passion blazing in his dark eyes.

  Blade took one step toward her and stopped. His need for her was rampantly apparent. His thin nostrils flared, the only sign on his hawklike features of the sexual tension that swirled about them like an invisible mist. Without taking her eyes from his face, she moved across the lodge floor until they were only inches apart. She thrust her cupped hands toward him, and for one seemingly endless moment, he stood motionless. To Theodora, it was as though his questioning eyes delved into the far reaches of her mind, searching for the true reason for her surrender.

  Then he held out one large hand, palm up, and she placed the rope in his keeping. Whatever he’d read in her eyes, he didn’t hesitate once the rawhide was in his control. With a low growl of passion, he hurled it across the lodge and pulled her to him. He lifted her in his arms, his mouth seeking and finding hers. He kissed her passionately, his lips slashing across her own. Effortlessly, he lifted her higher, until her breasts were beneath his mouth, and his tongue kindled burning, licking flames of excitement that spread through her body. When she moaned deep in her throat, he lowered her, letting her legs slide down the rippling muscles of his belly and thighs. She felt his hot, rigid arousal pressing against her moist, cool skin. His hands moved over her, exploring, and she quivered reflexively as his thumbs brushed back and forth across the tightened peaks of her breasts.

  “You talked in your sleep last night, vehona.” he told her. He stepped backward toward the mattress, taking her with him. “You called my name.”

  “Which one?” She stared into his eyes, mesmerized by the promise in their dark depths.

  “Blade Stalker.”

  “Did I say anything else?” She held her breath as she waited for his answer.

  “Please.”

  At his whispered reply she expelled the air in her lungs, trying in vain to calm the wild hammering of her heart.

  His soft, coaxing tone enticed her. “Touch me, nazheem.” Timidly, she slid one hand up his arm, feeling the bulging muscles on his biceps and shoulders. She ran her hand across his shoulder blade and down the bumps of his spine to the lower curve of his back, where her palm cupped his lean, hard buttock. Trembling with desire, she slid her fingertips across his massive thigh, grazed the flat plane of his stomach with her nails, and buried them in the black hair that covered the firm pectorals of his chest.

  His shudder seared her very soul. “Touch me, Theodora.” The thickness of his deep, throaty voice left no doubt of his meaning.

  Her hand lay frozen on his broad chest. She looked up into eyes as black as the river they’d swam in. In their depths she saw once again the image of him running into the water. She’d never seen another adult male naked. His manhood had looked engorged and hardened, yet somehow sensitive and vulnerable as well. Could she hurt him in her ignorance? Suddenly she felt as clumsy and awkward as a schoolgirl. “I don’t know how,” she confessed in a shy whisper. “Show me.”

  He took her small hand in his strong one and slid it down past the tapering hair on his stomach. To her inexperienced fingers, he was warm, firm velvet. Hard and silken at the same time. At her first hesitant touch, she heard the sharp intake of his breath as he sucked the air between his clenched teeth.

  She watched his face, darkened with passion, become taut and furrows appear between his raven brows. His heavy lids almost covered his eyes; his thick lashes shadowed his bronzed cheeks. “Am I hurting you?” she whispered, worried at his sudden stillness.

  His answer was a low groan. “No.”

  “It pleasures you, then?”

  His ebony eyes flew open, and he smiled with incredible tenderness. “Yes, nameo, my lover, it pleasures me.”

  Releasing her hand, he slid his own up to cup her breast. He kissed her, drawing her tongue into his mouth, then returning to hers with his own. He teased her with light kisses across her cheekbones and traced the delicate lines of her ear with his warm tongue. He took both her hands and brought them to his lips, kissing the tip of each finger. Then he slid one arm behind her back, the other under her knees. Lifting her up, he turned and laid her gently on the fur-covered bed. “And now, sweet princess, I will pleasure you.”

  For Blade Stalker the wait for her to come to him had seemed endless. But the thrill of knowing she came willingly surpassed all expectation. She was his woman. By all the traditions of his Cheyenne upbringing, she belonged to him now. His wife. His lover. And one day, the mother of his children. His and his alone.

  Unrestrained at last, he explored her silken skin with his mouth and tongue, suckling the rosy crests of her ivory breasts. His yearning hands roved at will over her hips and stomach and thighs as he learned the feel of every luscious curve and hollow. With iron control he ignored his own rampaging desire and forced himself to slow down. Bending over her, he taught her the feel of his bronze hands on her pale body, encouraging her to respond without shame. He talked to her in three languages as he told her how much he wanted her, how much she wanted him, and even when he spoke in Cheyenne, she seemed to understand.

  His strong fingers glided possessively across her satiny whiteness, luring and coaxing and teasing from her an uninhibited avowal of her need for him. He refused to be satisfied with anything less than her complete surrender. When he slid his fingertips across her soft, curly mound, he could feel her sudden tension as she reflexively clamped her thighs together. With a smothered chuckle deep in his throat, he bent and kissed her stomach, laving her navel with his tongue. “Relax, little wife,” he crooned. “You belong to me. I want to love every inch of your exquisite body.”

  He nudged her thighs apart with his knee, caressing the soft warmth of her with his fingers until she gasped with pleasure.

  To his delight, she was moist and swollen with passion. With seductive expertise, he slipped his finger inside her to prepare the way for his invasion. The tightness of her virginal passage surprised him. He had hoped to break her maidenhead as painlessly as possible, but realized now there would be no way to avoid hurting her. With dread at the pain he was about to cause, he looked up at her face, and she read the concern in his eyes.

  “Is there something wrong with me?” she asked in a voice filled with worry and fear:

  “No, darling,” he soothed with a deep rumble of laughter at her naivete. “You’re just incredibly small.” He kissed her slowly, lingeringly as he moved his lips across her stomach and thighs.

  When she realized his goal, she tried to push him away with an embarrassed cry. “Blade, you mustn’t!”

  Relentlessly, he caught her small hands in his own and imprisoned them against her hips. He lifted her to his mouth, teaching his bride the unbelievable heights of pure physical pleasure he could awaken within her. The moment he touched her with his tongue, she arched against him, and a long, low moan of erotic fulfillment rose from deep inside her as she felt the release of her yearning .

  At her cry of all-consuming pleasure, he positioned himself between her slim thighs and immediately entered her, burying himself inside her with one swift thrust.

  The incredible sweetness of her soft warmth sheathed him, building within Blade Stalker a throbbing, driving excitement that only the strength of his will kept from exploding inside her. With his weight braced on his elbows, he lay still above her, wanting her to become used to the tumescent feel of him inside her, waiting for the turmoil of the penetration to subside. Gently, gently, he kissed away the tears at the corners of her eyes. “It only hurts like that the first time, nameo. Now the pain is over with.” He smiled down at his darling bride with all the tenderness he possessed. “It’s just that you’re so damn little.”

  “Or you’re so big,” she responded.

  He laughed in complete and utter joy at her innocence. “God, how I’ve wanted you.”
Covering her mouth with his own, he thrust in and out with his tongue in a rhythm his body began to repeat. Under his skilled tutorship, she responded with a vibrant, natural eroticism, as she arched against his straining loins and moved her hips in time with his. At last she turned her head from his kiss, struggling for air, and he heard her quick, breathless panting in his ear. “Come with me, little wife,” he encouraged, his voice rasping and hoarse with emotion. “You can have it all again. Just think about the pleasure while I love you.”

  A low, sweet cry of ecstasy sounded in his ear. Increasing his swift, strong strokes in faster rhythm, he found the release he sought in an explosion of sensation and spilled his life and his love deep inside her.

  Theodora drifted in a mist of mindless enchantment. She was barely conscious of the weight of Blade Stalker’s body pinning her to the bed, and the deep groan that shuddered through him came as only a faint sound in her ear. Wave after wave of shimmering ecstasy started from the spot where their bodies were so intimately coupled and moved out across her hips, thighs, and stomach. Her breasts were hard and full, and her nipples tightened as the shock waves of pleasure rippled through her.

  In a daze she felt him lift her in his strong arms and turn them so they lay side by side, still joined together. She took a deep breath, wondering with an unknown tranquility just when she had forgotten to breathe. Slowly, her heart ceased its pounding race, and she became aware that she was caressing the bunched muscles of her husband’s back and shoulders and chest. Languorously, she moved her hands across his coppery skin, trailing her fingers over the scarred ridges left by the grizzly, burying her nails in the thick hair on his chest, and tracing the flat nipples with her fingertips. She slid one hand to his nape and gently kissed the hollow at the base of his neck. She tasted the taut skin across his collarbone with her tongue and breathed in the wonderful male smell of him, then buried her mouth and nose in the black, springy hair of his chest.

 

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