by Robin Gideon
When he used his teeth on her nipple, Samantha's knees buckled. She started to fall, but his arms whipped around her middle in a heartbeat, holding her up as he continued to suckle upon a breast that literally ached with passion. She pushed her fingers into his long, thick, velvety hair, quite intent upon pulling his mouth away from her over-stimulated breast. But once her fingers were entwined in silken hair as black as a raven's wing, they suddenly refused to do the bidding of her better judgment. In fact, her traitorous hands did quite the opposite. Rather than pulling Blade's heated mouth away from her throbbing nipple, she hugged him even closer, pressing his face into the sumptuous mound.
Samantha had been taught to never use the Lord's name in vain, so even under this moment of astonishing stress, this life-lesson remained intact. However, as she felt Blade easing her to the thick cushion of grass at the edges of a clear-running mountain stream, she heard herself whisper for the first time in her life without being forcibly coerced, “Oh, fuck."
Dreamily, as the cool grass touched her naked shoulders and his tantalizing lips traveled from her breast down her stomach, where he tickled her navel with his tongue for maddening seconds before continuing his downward journey, she smiled to hear herself say something so unladylike. With more confidence and less trepidation, she said, “Fuck ... me."
"Patience, precious ... patience. I'll take you there.” He chuckled lightly and added, “Such language for a lady to use..."
Again, the sibilant endearment that worked as an aphrodisiac. And that confidence of his. Always the confidence, an invisible underscore to words that assured her in delicious ways and to a sensual degree nothing else ever had.
He knows what he's doing. Samantha closed her eyes, giving up the last vestiges of resistance to seduction. But then, almost immediately and like the woman who poisons her own well, she thought, He's learned to be this good in the arms of a thousand other women.
The sensually dampening effect of this self-defeating thought did not last long, because hardly had the reality of other women in Blade's life come to mind when his strong hands were at the insides of her naked thighs, spreading them wider apart. An instant later an inquisitive tongue, perhaps even more skilled than the rest of the man, began a slow journey between passion-inflamed labia before circling and then caressing her clitoris.
"Fuck!” she cried again.
She felt his mouth on her clitoris, and his tongue. And when he upped the ante by easing a finger between the lips of her pussy, Samantha wondered whether it was possible to go to heaven without dying first.
When a second long, bronzed finger eased into between her labia while his lips and tongue worked with increasing vigor, she considered death and thought that it wouldn't be too high a price to pay to have Blade take her to the end of this road. But this thought was almost immediately dwarfed in significance when a third finger was inserted as he sucked with the skill of a connoisseur.
With her heels digging into the soft grass of the stream's bank, Samantha gasped “God!” She arched her back, pressing her pussy against Blade's mouth as an orgasm of frightening intensity began.
There were four extremely powerful contractions, a strange pause, and then a final fifth spasm. The strong convulsions were immediately followed with another two or three spasms of diminishing strength and intensity. When the last of the spasms shuddered through her body, it was as though every muscle she possessed had suddenly turned to mush. She slumped to the ground. Blade had stilled his frisking tongue and thrusting fingers.
Seconds ticked slowly away as she tried to comprehend what she had just experienced. Finally, still gulping in air, she asked in a breathy whisper, “What the hell was that?"
"That,” he said, easing her legs off his broad, naked shoulders and moving upward to settle his naked length atop her, “was a good beginning."
Samantha felt Blade's erection press against her abdomen, the hard length trapped between their bodies. “Really? Just a beginning?” It seemed impossible that there could be more.
He smiled, his long black hair framing his face, his teeth white in the dim moonlight. “You really must learn to trust me."
Then he pushed into her, his unyielding cock forcing her labia to spread, and though her mouth opened, no words were emitted.
He was wrong!
A flash of bitterness swept through her as delicate tissue was forced to expand further than it ever had before and a stiletto blade of pain stabbed through her body, emanating outward from an overheated vagina overstretched by an oversized man.
Blade's initial invasion was partial, hardly more than a quarter of his length. Though inexperienced in such matters, and even though her teeth were clenched against the pain, she was aware that her lover had not cruelly bore into her. He knew his size just as he understood her limitations, and for that, Samantha wrapped her arms more tightly around his neck and breathed, “Thank you."
As he withdrew, she felt a sense of relief ... and nascent pleasure hinted at something significantly more evocative. For breath-held seconds, he withdrew slowly until only the very tip of his crown still separated the lips of her pussy. He hesitated, waiting, his patience infinite when hers was not. Her fingernails gouged into the flesh of his taut buttocks, prompting a downward thrust that filled her completely, even though he had not given her all he possessed.
"Oh, God!” she gasped, feeling herself swell, expanding to accommodate, opening to his relentless thrust.
But even on the second thrust, he did not give her everything he had. It wasn't until the third revolution of Blade's lean hips that Samantha at last felt his torso pressing against hers, his erection deeply buried within her ... and she knew at last that she had taken all that this dangerous warrior had to give.
"Oh, yes!” she whispered, holding Blade tightly, her legs looped around his. “Just wait ... Just give me a second ... You're just so...” A shudder went through her. “Big."
Once again, treasonously, the notion slithered through her consciousness that she was not the first woman to have some difficulty adjusting to Blade's dimensions and requested tolerance and self-discipline on his part lest intended ecstasy become agony. Samantha cursed herself for the thought.
"Let me know,” Blade said, his breath warm against the side of her face, his lean body tense from head to toe.
Holding his body tightly to her own, his powerful chest pressing against the full mounds of her breasts, Samantha was struck with the image of Blade being a thoroughbred at the racetrack, quivering with anticipation in preparation for the opening of the gates and the beginning of the race.
"You're just so..."
Her words faded when he began a slow retreat, the unyielding shaft pulling at her tender labia and rubbing against an aroused clitoris. With just the tip of his cock still between the lips of her pussy, he hesitated, waiting. Her cheek was pressed against his when she nodded, and this time the invasion was faster, impaling her with his entire erection.
As his torso slapped against hers, she whispered, “Yesss."
Like a locomotive engine steadily being given more coal for the furnace, Blade began slowly. But each thrust, each invasion followed by retreat, happened just a little more quickly than the previous. Samantha came a second time, her body twitching beneath Blade's, his hips churning as he filled her with his lust-hardened flesh. She had never before had an orgasm while her lover's erection was filling her, so when the spasms started, she accepted them with an almost grateful sense of wonder. Discordantly, she thought it curious that an uncivilized heathen warrior such as Blade should be the man to expand her worldview so thoroughly.
Samantha felt his breath burning the side of her face, heard the hoarse gasps of his labor as he pummeled her body, no longer the practiced lover with a velvety touch, now a virile warrior stripped down to his primordial elements. She was wondering if yet a third orgasm was possible when he suddenly withdrew completely. An instant later, he groaned deep in his chest and she felt the thick, hea
ted eruptions of his climax hit her stomach.
Stroking his hair, holding him close, his erection trapped between their bodies and his semen warm and slippery against her skin, she whispered, “Thank you ... thank you for everything, but especially for not climaxing inside me."
Blade put his weight on his elbows, lifting up enough so that he could look into Samantha's eyes. “Precious, that was exquisite.” He smiled and kissed the tip of her nose, the point of her chin, and then her mouth. “And now I think we both could use a quick dip in the stream."
"In a second,” she said, pulling him back down so that his chest again pressed against the mounds of her breasts. Samantha was in no hurry at all to have his weight off her. “In a second."
* * * *
Samantha was drifting tranquilly in the half-world between sleep and consciousness. She was on her side, her head resting on the biceps of Blade's left arm. Through the buckskin shirt, she felt the heat of his chest against her back and the front of his naked thighs against the backs of hers, his pelvis against her buttocks. She did not want to wake up. Bliss was right here in her semi-conscious dream world, and bliss was an emotional state she had experienced too few times in her life.
She heard and felt Blade yawn, and a sleepy smile curled her full-lipped mouth. Blade was awake. Samantha remembered feeling him get up several times during the night to check the surrounding area to make sure that they were still safe. Then he would come back to her, his body large and warm as he slid up against her, easing one arm beneath her head as his other hand went around her body to rest against her stomach, touching her lightly but possessively through the buckskin shirt.
She felt the morning sun against her face, and though she wanted nothing more than to remain in Blade's arms, she blinked her eyes several times, but then closed them again.
"Good morning.” Blade's voice was low, a soft purr of sound. “I wondered when you would wake up."
"I'm not awake.” Samantha didn't try to hide the impishness of her smile. “I'm sleeping very peacefully, thank you very much."
His body moved as he chuckled silently. In her muzzy-minded state, it seemed that she was surrounded and protected by his powerful, warrior's body.
Blade took his hand from Samantha's stomach and, with his forefinger, smoothed hair away from her temple. A little shiver went through her when his fingertip lightly touched her face. For a moment, she held her breath, still not entirely awake yet distinctly aware of all the places where her body was in contact with his.
He traced the circumference of her ear. As she came slowly to full consciousness, she was aware of her own awakening passion. The surface of her skin tingled, and her clitoris began to itch pleasingly. A sensual warmth spread slowly outward from her pussy.
"You're beautiful when you sleep."
His voice caressed her intimately. She felt it as surely as she felt his fingertip sliding along her eyebrow, her cheek, her temple, her ear. When Blade's rapidly swelling penis pressed against her bottom, she parted them just enough to allow his erection to slip between her thighs.
"Blade..."
The single word came from her as a breathy sigh. He moved his hips forward, his erection continuing to grow, sliding against the moistening lips of her pussy.
"So beautiful.” Blade eased his left arm out from beneath her head.
Samantha kept her eyes closed as she turned the control of her body over to Blade, her feminine instincts whispering that she wanted to go wherever he wanted to take her. She was willingly submissive to his dominating presence and spirit.
He rolled her slowly onto her stomach, and she cradled her head in her arms as he lifted her hips and pushed the buckskin shirt up to the small of her back to expose the pale curves of ass. A moment later, when the bulbous crown of his erection rubbed up and down her labia, which had already become slick and creamy with her excitement, Samantha merely sighed her acquiescence.
He eased into her slowly, the shaft of his cock thick, unyielding. A warbling whimper came from her as he filled her tight channel.
"You make me wet ... so fast,” she whispered once he'd reached full insertion.
She wanted to ask how he could excite her so thoroughly, so quickly and easily, but he began moving his hips, working the length of his cock in and out of her pussy, and the sensations elicited from each invasion and retreat were of such an intensity that she no longer wished to know, only to feel.
Some time later, it would occur to Samantha that beginning the day with a bone-melting climax put something of a golden glow to the rest of the morning.
* * * *
"How much farther is it to your camp?” Samantha asked, her cheek against Blade's shoulder as she rode behind him on Tikki. The lovemaking that morning had been even more glorious than the previous evenings, and she was feeling gloriously lazy.
"If you had a horse of your own, it would be two days. With Tikki having to carry both of us, it'll take twice that long."
Samantha smiled, inhaled deeply, then sighed with contentment. Four days with Blade? The way she felt right now, she wouldn't mind if the trip took a month. Or three.
They rode in silence for a long time before he asked, “I would imagine you're anxious to get back to your world."
"My world?"
"The civilized world."
"Trust me, it's not that civilized.” She remembered the look in Jimmy's eyes when she said she was pregnant and they'd have to push their wedding date forward. In his eyes was contempt for her. He had quietly disappeared from town by the next morning. “The clothes are different and I suppose we do certain things differently, but it isn't a more civilized world."
"While we're in camp, I'm responsible for you,” Blade said.
Samantha grinned sleepily. Discovering that Blade was responsible for her added an unexpected touch of eroticism to the awareness.
"You were headed to Colorado City, right?"
She nodded, her head against the back of his shoulder.
"Don't worry. I'll see that you get there as soon as possible."
She leaned away from him. She wasn't in any hurry to part company from Blade, but it seemed as though he had already made a schedule for getting rid of her.
Aware now that her time with him most definitely was limited, she put her cheek against his shoulder again and, not knowing what else to say, whispered, “Thank you."
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Chapter Four
When they reached the encampment, there wasn't a soul in the tribe who wasn't waiting to greet Blade, and speculate on the woman riding double on his pinto and wearing a buckskin shirt but not much else.
"You're sure they're not going to be angry you've brought me along?” Samantha felt very vulnerable and completely underdressed while being scrutinized by countless pairs of dark eyes.
"You're with me,” Blade replied, as though that somehow answered all of her questions. He dropped his left hand down to her naked thigh.
"Please, people are watching,” Samantha said, though she did not push his hand from her leg.
"You'll have to get used to our ways. The Northern Comanche aren't as hypocritical as men and women in your white world.” He glanced over his shoulder, and she was reminded once again of his exotic, dark beauty. “Wait ‘til you meet my mother. You'll love her. Everyone does."
The word ‘mother’ sent a frisson of excitement through her. He had seemed so bold, so utterly masculine, it never occurred to her that he would have the feminine influence of a mother in his life. But the pride in his tone, the undisguised love, made her all the more curious to meet his family, to discover how he had become the man that he was.
"Does she speak English?” Samantha instantly wanted to know everything about his youth, about what he had been like as a little boy. It never occurred to her that asking such a question might be interpreted as insulting.
"Of course she does,” Blade said after a moment. “She's as white as you are. In fact, she's from Eng
land."
Samantha caught the coloring of disapproval in Blade's tone and made a promise to herself to think through her questions in the future before putting them into words.
She guessed there were well over one hundred tepees in the encampment. She noticed, too, that more than a few young women were looking at Blade with covetous eyes. When they looked at her, their expressions universally changed to emotions varying from mild disapproval to outright scorn.
The women adore Blade.
Samantha felt a growing resentment at the fawning attention her lover received. Women reached up to touch him as they rode Tikki through camp.
I wouldn't be surprised if he has a dozen young women vying for his attention.
The thought that he might have a wife filtered through her mind, and she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, mentally forcing the notion away. She wondered how much of the contempt she saw in the young squaws was because she was with Blade, or if it was because she was white.
A man wearing an elaborately beaded buckskin shirt, with similarly beaded leggings and moccasins, stepped into the path of Blade's pinto.
"Welcome home, my son,” the man said, his dark face almost glowing with pleasure and pride. “Were you successful?"
Blade replied, “Blue Elk is dead."
"Good. And the woman?"
"Blue Elk and his men attacked a train. They killed everyone and took her."
"You saved the woman's life.” It was a statement, not a question. He appeared pleased with Blade's actions. “I'll bet you're hungry. Come, the women have been preparing a feast for you since the sentries spotted you at Connor's Bluff."
Blade flashed a smile at his father before looking over his shoulder at Samantha. “We rode past Connor's Bluff about three hours back. I'm afraid I have some business to attend to with my father, but the women will see to it you have everything you need."
* * * *
Blade's mother, Constance, was the very essence of courtesy. She had dark blonde hair with sparkling green eyes that were clear and bright. She was a little taller than Samantha, and her body was becoming more plump the nearer to fifty she got. Constance's diction was flawlessly British, in startling contrast to the visual image given by her beaded and fringed buckskin dress and moccasins.