Forbidden Caress

by Colleen French

  Tipaakke grinned, following her down the bank. She was a vixen, this one. Pulling his shirt over his head, he dropped his loin cloth. It was as if his body had a mind of its own. He had to follow her, he had to touch her pale skin. He was lost in her spell.

  Katelyn laughed gaily, reaching to the bottom of the stream to retrieve handfuls of sand. Watching Tipaakke's every move, she began to rub the sand over her body, scrubbing away the foul man's touch.

  Mesmerized, Tipaakke ignored the shock of the icy water. The closer he grew to her, the less he felt it. Now he felt only the heat of his rising passion. Taking a hand of the clean sand, he began to rub it over her. First a slim arm, then her back, then her softly rounded bottom.

  Katelyn lowered her eyelids as the pleasure of his touch washed over her. She had always enjoyed the feel of his skin touching hers, but now it was different. Now she knew that he loved her. Now she knew it was all right to love him. Tipping back her head, she moaned softly. He no longer rubbed sand on her body, now it was only his strong hand caressing her supple flesh.

  "You take a man's senses from him," Fox murmured as he felt her touch burning his skin. Lightly she ran her hands over his back, over his sinewy shoulders.

  "Tell me you love me," she whispered hotly, nipping at his neck and chest.

  "I love you," he responded, taking her mouth in his.

  Parting her lips, she welcomed his sweet searching tongue. The deeper he probed, teasing, taunting the warm lining of her mouth, the warmer her skin felt beneath his roaming hands. Pulling away breathlessly, she rested her head on his chest, pressing his buttocks until their two bodies molded as one. "Tell me again, and then again. I could never tire of those words." She stared up at him through feathery lashes.

  "I love you, I love you," he repeated over and over again as he reached to swing her in his arms.

  Resting her head on his shoulders, she let him carry her to the bank where he lay her in the soft new blades of grass. "Cold?" he asked, stroking her boldly.

  She shook her head. "Hot!" She laughed, her voice bubbling with joy, hoarse with passion. "Touch me, Fox, touch me like you do."

  Fox lowered his body onto hers, taking a damp, taut nipple in his mouth as he lowered his hand to the triangle of bright curls he knew so well. "You are like honey," he crooned, stroking in a circular motion. "So sweet."

  Katelyn moved her hips to the rhythm of his hand, running her hands over his back, pressing his body to hers. "You know me so well," she whispered when she could take the torturous pleasure no longer. "Now let me show you how well I know you."

  Chuckling deep in his throat, Tipaakke moved off her, molding his body to her side. Giggling, Katelyn pushed him onto his back. Their legs tangled as she marveled at the sensitivity of his hardening male nipples. Flicking at his broad chest and flat stomach with her tongue, she slid her leg seductively between his, rubbing, twisting, turning until she could feel the evidence of his love, pressed against her damp flesh. Smiling, she reached down to stroke his swollen manhood, moaning with him.

  "Love me," Katelyn begged when she could no longer stand the way his hard, lean body tempted her. Guiding his body onto hers, she strained, writhing until she felt his welcomed thrusts.

  At first both were eased by the ancient rhythm of give and take, but then the embers brightened. The clear sky above spun faster. Their hearts beat harder. "Please," Katelyn urged, unaware of the sounds that escaped her lips. Thrust for thrust she rose to meet Tipaakke, drowning in sensation. He loves me! she thought shakily as she climbed higher and higher. He loves me!

  And then in a heartbeat it was over. Katelyn arched her back, straining to control the last shuddering waves of pleasure and then she sighed, loosening her hold around Tipaakke's shoulders. She waited until his breath came easier, pressing kisses to his damp forehead, running her hands over his back. Then he looked up, his dark eyes searching hers. "Tell me," he murmured, his words breathy.

  "I love you." She tightened her arms around him, rejoicing in his love.

  Chapter Ten

  "Tipaakke! Wait," Katelyn panted, gasping for breath. "You're going too fast!" She slowed to a walk. "I can't run any further. Will you stop and wait for me?"

  "Come on, lazy squaw. You're weak!" Fox slowed down, turning to run backwards so he could face her.

  Katelyn laughed at his antics, starting to run again. "You're going to fall and break your neck."

  "Not Tipaakke Oopus, brave Lenni Lenape warrior!" He beat his broad chest with his fist. "Now come. You'll never make a hunter at that turtle pace."

  Katelyn threw back her head, letting the wind whip through her long, unbound tresses. "I don't want to be a hunter. You be the hunter. I want to sit in your wigwam, make babies with you, and grow fat on fried corn cakes."

  "I thought you white women wanted the world?"

  She shook her head, panting. "I have seen the world. You may have it, thank you."

  Tipaakke laughed, shaking his head. "With my people, you can do what . . . "

  "Fox! Watch out for the . . . " Katelyn's hand flew to her mouth as she watched him trip over the branch and go sailing into the grass. Unable to contain herself, she ran laughing to help him. "I told you you would fall, you strutting buck!"

  Tipaakke reached out with both hands for her. "Come here, vixen. Come to your man and take your punishment. You must be punished for your most serious crime."

  "Punished? Me? Why?" She flopped down on top of him, still giggling. "I've committed no crime."

  "You dare to laugh at this brave warrior?" he asked her indignantly. "That is a crime of nature."

  "That's because this brave warrior," she poked his chest with one finger, "is a foolish warrior to run backwards!"

  Tipaakke wrapped his arms around Katelyn, rolling over until he was on top of her. "You're getting round," he told her huskily, running a hand over her belly.

  She nodded, looking up at him. "Does that please you?"

  "Yes," he answered softly. "Does it please you?" He brushed his hand across her flushed cheek.

  "Yes, it pleases me, now that I know you love me." She took his hand and planted a kiss on it. "So what's to be my punishment for loving a foolish brave?" She grinned.

  Tipaakke propped himself up on one elbow to relieve her of his weight. In the days that had passed since they'd declared their love for each other, life had been wonderful. He tugged at his bottom lip, his face set in a serious scowl. "Let me see . . . I could take your fingernails one at a time . . . "

  "Fox!" She knocked him in the side of the head playfully.

  "I could brand you, or maybe take a bit of scalp for my belt." He ran a hand over bright green grass, just beginning to sprout.

  "Oh, that's horrible. Don't even say such a thing!" Her brown eyes grew wide with insistence.

  "Our Iroquois friends think nothing of such things. Torture is a game to them." He shrugged his shoulders.

  "But you are not an Iroquois." She bit down lightly on his finger. "Now tell me, what kind of punishment would a Lenni Lenape brave dole out to a naughty squaw?"

  "That punishment," he shook a finger at her, "that punishment is very terrible, very painful." He smiled that smile she knew so well. "It is the worst kind of torture." He leaned to tug at her bottom lip with his teeth, placing hand on her round, full breast.

  "I think I might like this torture," Katelyn purred, running her hands through his silky hair. "Do I have any choice?"

  "No," he murmured in Algonquian, taking her mouth in his.

  Her arms tightened around his neck as she surrendered to his fierce kiss. Her body strained against his, as a fire was kindled deep within her.

  Tipaakke tugged at the leather thongs that laced the vee at her neck. "Untie these," he whispered, "or I will cut them." He dropped feather-light kisses across her face as she fumbled with the ties.

  "Cut them," she replied in Algonquian, her voice rough with desire.

  He unsheathed his knife and slit the thongs wit
hout hesitation. Katelyn sighed as she slipped his warm hand beneath the doeskin to caress her swelling breasts.

  "You are so beautiful, my dove," he murmured, taking her mouth in his again.

  She ran her hands over the flexing muscles of his back, her tongue meeting his in a sweet dance of yearning. "Your shirt," she whispered. "I want to touch you. I want to feel your skin against mine."

  Tipaakke sat up to pull the linen shirt off his back.

  "This too," Katelyn told him, giving his leather loin cloth a tug. "I want to feel all of you." She leaned back, stretching cat-like as she watched him strip to bare bronze skin in the brilliant afternoon sunlight.

  "And you." He pulled her into a sitting position and slid the doeskin dress over her head. He ran his fingers over her silken flesh, marveling at her heated response. He ran his hands slowly over her, enchanted by her rounding curves. "My child has given you such a woman's body," he told her as his lips captured hers again. "I can't get enough of your sweetness. Tell me you'll never leave me, Katie-girl. You are my star in the heavens."

  "I could never leave you, Tipaakke. Never. I'm yours. I'll love you forever." She ran her hands over his buttocks, kneading the taunt muscles. "Love me," she begged.

  "I have always loved you. Our spirits were meant to be one," he answered softly, stroking the tender flesh of her inner thighs.

  Again their mouths met fiercely and soon they were engulfed in the fires of love. Both reached out to fan the other's flame, neither wanting to unite until the other could stand it no longer.

  Finally Tipaakke spoke out, his voice barely audible. "Please," he told her, his breath coming in short gasps. "I think you are torturing me. Come ride with me, Katie-girl."

  Welcoming him, Katelyn rode the final bit of familiar path with him, moving faster and faster in a ritual of love until they both broke away and raced to become one again.

  Tipaakke rested his head on Katelyn's shoulder for a moment, waiting until her breath came evenly again. Finally, he lifted his head.

  She opened her heavy lashes to stare at the face curtained by ebony locks. Unable to resist, she ran her fingers through the dark hair. "So this is the usual punishment for a Lenni Lenape squaw?" She grinned devilishly.

  Tipaakke ran a finger over her love-bruised lips. He would never tire of her smile. "Yes. It's the usual punishment. In my village, when a wife is not behaving as she should, it is the husband who we blame. We say he isn't doing his duty on her mat and that's why she is acting that way."

  "Brrr, it's cold down here." She shivered, the spring's damp ground beginning to seep through her. She pushed Tipaakke's arm, trying to sit up.

  "You didn't notice the cold a few moments ago . . . " He raised one eyebrow.

  "Oh, you! Now let me up! I want my dress." She pushed him onto his back and got to her feet.

  Tipaakke rolled onto his back and stared straight into the brilliant sunlight. He listened to Katelyn dress. "The sun is getting warmer each day. My brother will return soon."

  She pulled the doeskin over her head. "Will you be glad when he gets here?"

  "I want to go back to my village so I can marry you. And I want my friends to know you." His eyes drifted shut as he bathed naked in the warm sunshine. "But I'll be sad to leave this place. I have been very happy here alone with you. I wish I didn't have to share you with anyone."

  Katelyn smiled, pleased with his reply. "How soon do you think he'll be here?" She tugged at the cut thongs at her neck and tossed them to the ground. "I'm ready to leave now."

  "I told you before. We wait for Mekollaan. I will not risk the life of our child, stumbling through the forest." He tucked his hands behind his head.

  "Please Tipaakke, we could surprise them!" She sat down in the grass beside him and ran a palm over his smooth, bare chest. "You could find your way. You know you could."

  "No. Mekollaan will be here in a few days. We wait. We have waited this long to marry. We can wait a little longer. I told my brother we would be here when he returned. So, we will be here." He rolled to his side, propping himself up with an elbow.

  Katelyn stuck out her lip stubbornly. "I don't know why you think we need him. We've gotten along fine all winter without him." She dropped her hands in her lap. "I don't like him very much, Fox."

  Tipaakke sat up. "You must listen to me. Mekollaan is my brother. Our souls are bound together just as yours and mine are. You must accept Hawk. He will soon be your brother, too. Then he will be your friend."

  "Friend? Ha! He doesn't like me anymore than I like him." She picked at a blade of new grass.

  "He acted as he did in the village because he cares for me. He didn't want me to be hurt by a white woman. He knew that I was in love with you."

  "Why would a white woman hurt you anymore than an Indian woman? Why doesn't he like my people? What have I done to him?"

  Tipaakke stood up and began to pick up his clothes off the ground. "Many years ago when we were still young bucks, my brother fell in love with a white woman, a Quaker. She said she loved him. But when Mekollaan asked for her to become his wife, she laughed. She said she would never marry a red man." He pulled his shirt over his head and began to tie the thongs on his loin cloth. "She married a white man days later."

  Katelyn got to her feet and went to stand in front of him. "Not all white women are like that. I love you. I wouldn't care if you were blue." She wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tight. "You have been better to me than any white man. I love you and I will not leave you. Not ever. My home is with you, Tipaakke Oopus, brave of the Lenni Lenape."

  Tipaakke held Katelyn tight, breathing in the fresh sweet scent of tumbling tresses. "I love you, too, Katelyn Locke. Now, come. We must go back. We have much to do before the hawk flys near."

  "Race you!" Katelyn dared, releasing him and starting off down the path.

  Tipaakke laughed, running to catch up, his strong voice echoing in the trees.

  Katelyn stared at the wall lined with pelts as she placed her cooking utensils in a leather bag, one at a time. "You've done well, haven't you, Tipaakke?"

  He shrugged his shoulders and continued to remove the beaver hides from the west wall. "Better than some winters. Not as good as others."

  "Where will you trade them?" She went to the shelf on the wall and ran her palm across the board to be sure she hadn't left anything behind.

  "There is a man my brother and I trade with. He's a good man. We'll give the pelts to him and tell him what we want . . . material, tobacco, sugar . . . " He turned to grin at her. "Maybe English tea."

  Katelyn returned the smile unable to resist. He knew she would give anything for more tea. "I think you've done better than you tell me, Fox. Just how much will this buy?"

  Tipaakke turned back to his work. "A lot of tea, many pipes of tobacco. I don't know. Maybe enough so that I can sell to my people when they need something. Those who sell to us are not always as honest as my friend. I will wait and see what the hides bring in Annapolis."

  Katelyn spun around. "You'll be going there?"

  "We go once a year to do our trading. I won't be gone long." He ran his fingers over the pile of hides, counting before he tied them into a bundle.

  "But someone might recognize you." Her face grew severe with concern. "One of Henry's men."

  He laughed, shaking his head. "No one would recognize me. White people think we all look alike."

  Katelyn rested her hands on the table, leaning against it. "After all that's happened to us, haven't you had enough of them?"

  "Them?" He went down on one knee to tie the bundle of hides with a leather thong. "You are one of them, Katie-girl. You, my reason for living."

  She shook her head. "Not any more. If I had my way I'd never lay eyes on another white man as long as I lived. Those trappers were proof of what they're like."

  Tipaakke picked up the bundle and dropped it on the bed with two others. "There are good and bad people of all races. You will meet bad Lenni Lenape. I
have met one or two good Iroquois. Katelyn, you may speak the language, wear the clothes, but there will always be a small part of you that will be white."

  "I wish I weren't. I wish I'd been born Lenni Lenape, grown up in your village, and met you a long time ago." She pushed her bag of tools aside and started to sort the packets of herbs.

  "You have not seen the bad things about being an Indian yet. You haven't seen how measles can kill half of a village. You haven't seen a village burned to the ground." He went to stand beside her. "You know, if you had been born one of us, we might never have loved each other."

  "But you said it was in the stars, our lives were preplanned." She dropped a packet onto the table and turned to' face him.

  "Maybe. Maybe not. We will never know. Maybe this is the Creator's way of blending our peoples. We must learn to live among each other. What better way then to become the other?" He dropped a hand on her shoulder and fingered a heavy braid. "Our child will be of both of us. Of two worlds."

  "Maybe he will have a better life than either of us," she answered thoughtfully. "Maybe our child will not experience the pain we've experienced."

  Tipaakke wrapped his arm around her waist. "Now, mother of my child, go get some water. It's time we both ate."

  She looked at him. "Why don't you go get the water . . . " she poked him playfully, " . . . and while you're at it, take the fishing line down and see if you can catch something. Fried fish would be nice. I don't think I could eat another piece of rabbit if I tried."

  He laughed. "I'll get the water and try with the line. But I promise nothing. Fishing is woman's work. You always do better than I do." Planting a kiss on her head, he retrieved the water bag and line and left the cabin.

  After he'd gone, Katelyn went to search for the last of the sugar among the piles of bags and bundles on the table. Mixing flour, sugar and water, she searched for a brown spice. The flat sweet bread would be a real treat after months of doling out supplies so carefully. Placing a metal rack over stoked coals, she put the metal pan of bread on the rack and went to open the door. It was getting too warm for a fire during the day.