Savage Journey

by Jessica Leigh

  Still, she willed herself to remain straightforward and confident, just as she had initially intended in the hopes of withdrawing Nicholas from his dour mood. A little idea snuck into her head, gaining strength and appeal quickly.

  “Well then. Perhaps we could continue the pretense of being husband and wife in order to venture out?”

  Nicholas laughed harshly at her.

  She stomped her foot, already losing her patience. “I know that it is just pretended for you, Nicholas. I am not asking what Opichi asked of Pétant.” She faltered again, looking at him from beneath lowered lashes. “Unless…”

  He looked up at her sharply. “Unless what, Katari?”

  “Unless you want me to ask you, as Opichi did of Pétant,” she whispered, even as she agonized inside. She searched his face, looking desperately for a hint of emotion that would tell her of his true feelings. Did he care for her? But his eyes had clouded over and his jaw had locked with a click. She saw that there would be no words of love or forever from Nicholas.

  Embarrassingly, she felt tears sting at the corners of her eyes, and she whirled away from his silent rejection. “I just wish to be happy, too,” she spoke out loud, if only to the closet door in front of her. “It is not fair.”

  Katari felt him standing behind her before she heard his voice in her ear. “You will be happy someday, Katari, I am sure of it,” he murmured softly. “Right now, it is my sole mission to see you delivered, pure, healthy and whole, to your brother and your family. It is very likely that, in their cups, many of those many at the Inn would not even care about the bond of marriage. You must understand this.”

  Listening to his softly uttered words, Katari did understand what he spoke of. But there was a multi-faceted meaning to the words he spoke as well, and she knew it. Nicholas cared about her, and in a deeper way than he would like to admit.

  Opichi had said that there were certain womanly instincts that might live inside of her. She felt that this just might be so. At this moment, her heart told her to learn backwards and rest her head on him. So she did so, allowing her body to sway back and against his.

  Katari was pleased to feel his big arms respond to her touch by encircling her body. One hand feathered gently down the side of her cheek to play with her hair. It felt so good that she nearly leaked tears again. She turned and pressed against him, wrapping her arms around his girth and hugging him with her cheek to his chest.

  Nicholas allowed this embrace for a moment, but then began to stiffen noticeably in the circle of her arms. He placed his hands on her shoulders and shook her gently, and she released him to take an uncertain step backward. “You are truly sweet and lovely, Katari, but you make it very difficult for a man such as me to behave like a real gentleman.”

  “What does this gentleman word mean?” she asked, looking up at the smoothness of his cheeks and the perfect shape of his jaw. “You are both gentle, and a man. What do you mean by a ‘man such as me’?”

  He laughed shortly. “I am not of noble birth, nor have I the upbringing of a gentle man. I have no family. I live in rough places, with unclean people, or by myself in the mountains. The life of a Coureur de bois is certainly not a gentle one, Katari. Surely, you must see this.”

  “My people are often labeled as savages, when I know in my heart I am not as such,” she countered. “Would you call me a savage?”

  He squeezed her shoulders. “You are far from savage, that is the truth,” he chuckled. “A bit much for the average man to handle maybe, but not a savage.”

  “Well then, you are not a wild-man of the woods, and I am not a savage, and that is that. We are equal you see?” She saw a smile tweak at the corners of his mouth, and it brought her pleasure.

  Katari grinned back and stomped her foot. “Well, Nicholas, tonight I would again try to enjoy a mug of your spirit-drink, even if it is not amidst the revelry at the Inn. And, I would also like for you to show me more games with your White man’s dice. I saw you playing them with Pétant. Where did you say they came from?”

  His eyes brightened. “They originated in an amazing and ancient land known as Greece during the legendary siege of a great city called Troy,” he replied, seemingly grateful for the change of subject.

  “There is much I would like to know about such a land, and such a battle.”

  Nick moved to fill for her a tankard of honeyed ale, and locate his prized set of dice.

  ~~~~~

  The evening passed much more pleasantly than Nicholas could have hoped for. Katari had given up on her notions of love and longing, and her usual vibrant personality rose to the surface once again. And again, he admired her skill with conversation, and her quickness and wit. She absorbed every bit of information he had to give her of his time with the Jesuits, and from his many beloved books. Katari explained her own learning experiences from a visiting Jesuit named Allouez. Nicholas knew the man would have surely enjoyed her inquisitive nature.

  They played several different games with his dice, discussed many aspects of history, and talked about the current frightening influx of various ethnicities of the White man along the east coast, as well as from the north. The massive reach and power of the Dutch East India Company was a force to be reckoned with.

  Now, with the addition of the English and the French to the mix, he could only guess what might be in store for this grand New World. He advised Katari to have her tribe shore up the protection of its hunting lands, less they be pressed from their native village forever.

  Although Nick had hated encountering hostile Natives the few times it happened in the past, he had to understand their position and their fear. But the trappers were relentless in the pursuit of beaver pelts. And most of them had no qualms about taking down a Native or two, or even an entire tribe, in the process of getting themselves rich.

  Looking into Katari’s brightly animated face, Nicholas found that he was again worried about her future. Would her family be able to protect her? Would she find the right kind of man to treat her how she deserved to be treated? She was so very open to the world and its peoples, and was innocent and unsuspicious as to the sometimes malicious intent of men. Katari believed that all people were inherently good. Nicholas knew this sentiment to be false, and was quite possibly a deadly belief to hold. It disturbed him mightily.

  When she hiccupped and giggled over her third cup of foamy, golden ale, Nicholas reached over and pried it gently from her fingers. His head was a bit fuzzy as well, and he was three times her size. “I see you’ve acquired your taste for this now,” he laughed.

  “Wait, Nicholas,” she implored.

  “You’ve had enough. Any more will make your head ache.”

  “Let us play one more game before we sleep.”

  “What game?

  Katari smiled at him, and he recognized the devilish gold glints in her eyes. “Let us play the Country Wife game one more time.”

  He jumped when, without waiting for a reply, she sidled up to where he sat, cross-legged on the floor. The meaning of her request suddenly became clear to him. Her lips were parted and her breath came rapidly. She wanted Nick to kiss her again.

  Earlier, Katari had loosened her hair from the confinement of her braids, and it swung free over the soft curve of her shoulders. “Without the many other people watching,” she added, as if an afterthought. He could smell the sweet scent of ale on her breath.

  “No, Katari,” he said firmly. He put his hand gently on her shoulder to stop her advance.

  “I would have this before I return to my people. Once more, Nicholas. Please. I know now, that you do not think I am ugly.”

  Ugly? He looked down at her flushed cheeks. She had closed her golden eyes and her perfectly shaped lips were open slightly in waiting. Her black and silken hair begged for a man to put his hands in it. He could see the firm, lush curve of her breasts where the tunic fell open at the neck as she leaned toward him. Nick felt his nostrils flare, and he breathed in her sweetly unique scent.


  It was too much to resist. He bent forward, and their lips met softly. His pulse exploded. By God, he would give her the kiss of her life to take home. Nicholas tugged her body into his lap and cradled the back of her head with one hand. His lips explored her mouth gently, slowly, then gaining in intensity as he felt her quiver against him.

  The last thing he truly wanted was for her to ever forget him. Ever. Their tongues met and danced, teasing and retreating, then meeting again to find a rhythm that flowed like a current of warm water. He left her lips to nibble along her jaw and then flick against the sensitive lobe of her ear. When he ran a trail of soft kisses down the curve of her neck, she sighed.

  “This is good, Nicholas,” she whispered. “I do like this game very much.”

  He laughed against the hollow at the base of her throat. “You are lucky it is just a game, Katari,” he murmured. “It would certainly not be good for you at all, were it real, and I was not playing the gentle man.”

  Even as he said the words, Nicholas wondered how much control he actually had over his actions. He had never, ever, in his life felt desire this strong. He was granite-hard and pulsing in his breeches. It was actually painful, for he had not lain with a woman in a very long time. Yet, he did not want to stop this kind of kissing that Katari craved. He had never engaged in such act in this incredibly slow and sensual way. He found that he liked this game too. Very much.

  “Do you remember the night in the bedroll?” she whispered pulling his face back up to hers with warm fingers. “Along the stream?”

  Nicholas stilled himself, thinking hard. He remembered waking up very confused in the midst of an erotic dream– and Katari’s resultant squeal – but what had he actually done? “I remember the night, but not what I did to you. I am sorry about that, Katari, truly.”

  “Do you remember who were thinking of, deep in your dream-sleep?”

  He recalled his dream so clearly that it actually sent a tremor through him. His desire for her surged even more with the memory. “No,” he lied in a strangled voice.

  Katari bit her lip. “Whatever woman you dreamed of…well, you did this to her, Nicholas.” She took hold of his hand and slid it under her tunic. When his fingers grazed upon the bare flesh of her breast, he groaned and tried gently to pull it away.

  She held his hand there with a firm grip. “Please, Nicholas. I would still pretend in this game for a moment. Just this one thing.”

  Chapter 11

  As Katari looked up at him with wide and innocent eyes, Nicholas knew that she did not comprehend the sheer boldness of her words. This only made him want her more at that moment.

  “Just this one thing, Nicholas,” she echoed. “Then we will sleep, and play this game no longer. I swear it.”

  He gritted his teeth. “What would you have me do, Katari? I have told you that I do not remember the dream.”

  “I will show you,” she whispered. When she began to lift her tunic over her head, Nicholas squeezed his eyes shut and focused on the simple effort of breathing steadily. He knew that Native women held no hesitation in moving throughout their villages with their breasts unbound and free. Katari could not know what it did to a White man, and one who had not seen a woman this sweet and fresh and comely in a long time. Quite actually, ever.

  Keeping his eyes closed, he allowed her to cup his hand over the soft mound, and test its full, tender weight. Her skin was as warm and soft beneath his fingertips as he remembered. She took hold of his thumb and forefinger, and swirled it gently over the nipple. His breathing increased as he felt it pucker responsively.

  “Nicholas,” she implored. He opened his eyes.

  She was exquisitely beautiful. He drew his hand away from her breast in order to view them better in the dim light of the fire that popped and sizzled behind them in the corner hearth. They were sized perfectly to fit a man’s hand, and their flesh was a bit paler than he would have expected. He remembered that she was half-blooded and that all of her female parts would uniquely be…Katari. It was utterly enticing. Her perfect rose-tipped nipples were erect with arousal. For him. His lust surged even further.

  “You did not gaze upon Opichi and I while we bathed,” she whispered, watching him. Her eyes shimmered a golden hue in the fire’s glow. “Do you find me pleasing now?”

  “Yes,” he rasped. “Very much so, Katari.”

  She smiled, obviously happy with his response. “As you know, I gazed upon you that day. I found you pleasing as well, Nicholas.”

  “Did you, Katari?” he murmured. He lifted his hand to again caress the curve of her breast, just one more time. “Did you see all of me?”

  She heaved a little breath at his questions and flushed prettily. “Well, not exactly. Opichi did, though.” Her mouth opened when his thumb found the tip of her nipple again, and brushed it gently. She fell back a bit, placing both palms on the wooden floor for support. Her tunic was still puddle in her lap.

  He chuckled. “That is fair, because I have not seen all of you, Katari.”

  She had the sense to appear flustered for once. “I promised to stop this game as you wished, Nicholas.”

  “That is true,” he replied. “But there is one more thing I now remember from my dream-sleep,” he added, thinking of the warm spring waters of his dream, and the feel of her body against his thick desire. He could not stop himself.

  “What thing?” she asked tremulously, and curiously, taking his bait.

  He lowered his head and encircled the little rosebud nipple with the wet heat of his mouth.

  ~~~~~

  Katari never knew the inside of a man’s mouth could be so searingly hot. When Nicholas flicked the tip of her hardened nipple with his tongue, she gasped aloud and shuddered. What was he doing? He suckled on her like a babe at the teat! Yet, instead of repulsing her, it felt amazing, exciting, and rendered her thighs weak and trembling in an instant.

  She was alarmed at her response, and at the sudden wetness pooling between her thighs. She lifted her fingers to the hair that curled now at the nape of his neck. For one blessed moment, she held his head closely, driving her breast deeper into his mouth. Then she came to her senses and pushed him away.

  “Nicholas! Please.”

  He sat back, looking stunned. Katari watched as many differing emotions played over his beautiful face, in time with the flicker of the hearth. Confusion, hurt, understanding, recognition. Determination. He rose and turned from her.

  “Nicholas…I did not know-“

  “I realize that you know little about such things Katari. But I am no gentleman, you must remember. And, I would put my mouth many more places than that, should I lose my control.”

  She stuttered, and flushed red straight down to her toes. What places? Lose control?

  “Put on your tunic now, Katari, our game has ended,” he said curtly, leaving no room for argument or comment.

  She hurried to do his bidding, feeling somehow disappointed in the result of their play. He was gruff and angry with her, once again. Why had she gone and pushed him away so abruptly?

  “I am sorry, Nicholas, I did not mean-“

  “You will stay here, Katari,” he interrupted firmly. “You will not leave this room.”

  “What?”

  “Promise me.”

  “Where are you going, Nicholas?”

  “Promise me, Katari. Or I will beat your backside right this minute.”

  She did not know this Nicholas. Although his eyes were blue, they were burning at her as bright as the flame in the hearth.

  “Yes,” she breathed.

  He turned and left the room, allowing the door to close behind him with a resounding bang.

  Katari sat silently for several long, tense moments. He did not return to her. Truly, she had never felt so alone.

  ~~~~~

  Nicholas felt as if a fierce storm had entered both his body and his mind with a purely malicious intent. As he moved through the darkened streets of Beverwijck, the ominous cha
rge of the internal gale rolled through him. He had allowed Katari, untouched and innocent as she was, to deliberately bait and tease him directly into this state. Nick knew that she did not comprehend the power she held over him. Before now, even he had not realized the female power she wielded.

  Briefly, he had entertained the idea of finding some woman to ease his mounting burden for the night. But even that once tempting notion was tainted by the image of Katari’s lush and alluring body in the firelight and the sweet taste of her golden skin. Her large and beautifully dazed eyes had responded so heatedly to his touch...

  He could have taken her – and he knew it well. Katari’s innate curiosity and passionate nature would have led her directly down the path to discovery, had he continued to cajole her. But somehow, he had resisted the urge to take her purity. Katari did not understand that, once given away, such a gift could never be reclaimed.

  Feeling both cursed and unclean, he entered a smaller food and drink establishment known as The Black Mantle. It was not very crowded, and he quickly found a table in the corner to settle into. He ordered a full mug of honeyed ale from a large-breasted serving girl, whose brown eyes gleamed with appreciation as she took in his large breadth of chest and broodingly handsome face. He glanced away from her suggestive grin with an audible sigh. How could ever he lay with some unknown woman, sullied and quite likely drunken – ever again?

  He might as well join up with the Jesuit priests. However, he did not truly believe in the conversion of Natives to the Roman Catholic faith. Their thoughts, beliefs, and inherent system of intensely bonded family unity was a way of life that he envied greatly. Their reverence for the land, its creatures, and the knowledge that it all was spiritually connected to the Creator above was a noble belief, and one that needed no tampering with. What did they need know of Christian saints and martyrs?

  The foamy ale and a loaf of warm wheat bread arrived at his table. Nick paid his coin and then sent the pouting girl away with a wave. Would that Pétant was here to bring him his own particular brand of cheer and positive outlook toward the unknowns of the future. No one else could sense Nicholas’s darker moods quite like the gentle giant, and coax him from them.