by Karen Kay
There were times of intimacy, for when they did lay down to rest, the spaces were small, and Black Lion’s presence filled each cozy hideaway. Always Suzette was more than aware of him, fretting over the accidental touch, the chaste looks that passed between them, their whispered words to each other.
He usually sat no more than a few feet from her, and like a sentinel, he always faced toward the entrance.
When she lay down to sleep, it was his woodsy scent that clung to the blanket beneath her head. It teased her, made her wish for things she should not dare to want.
Alas, she was weakening toward him. She even suspected he was aware of this as well. However, much to her surprise, nothing happened.
Also, he never lay by her to go to sleep, and he was rarely with her when she awakened. He was always on watch, and although she assumed he rested at some time or another, she had never seen him do it. When she awoke, he was often sitting in the same position he had chosen when they had retired.
In truth, she wondered about his earlier promise. If he meant to lure her into his arms, he was going about it in an awfully odd fashion. He didn’t touch her, he didn’t make overtures, despite the fact she was required to bathe each morning with him on guard. He didn’t talk to her of lovemaking or their marriage, not even a gentle tease about it.
Indeed, he couldn’t have been more of a gentleman. Problem was, she was hoping he would do something, make some move toward her that would indicate he still desired her, regardless that she might reject him.
But he did nothing. He was polite, considerate, concerned over her welfare, never pushing her too hard or too long. A few days back she had been so tired she couldn’t go on, and he had carried her. But still and all, he had acted like a polite stranger.
Had he forgotten the dare he had issued her?
Possibly. There was certainly enough reason to think so. However, there were several times when she had caught him off-guard, had found him watching her, and at those times, there could be no mistake that within his gaze had been admiration, perhaps even hunger.
But at such times as these, he would lower his eyes or look away from her. Was something wrong?
At present, she was sitting on a large log as she watched him draw pine branches next to their shelter. “Do I smell funny?”
He glanced at her as if she might have been speaking Greek. But all he said was, “You smell fine.” He continued to set branches around their rock shelter.
“Is my figure already becoming too plump?”
“Plump?” he answered, not looking up from his work. “A pregnant woman is not plump, she is simply with child. It would be very hard on her child, if she did not grow to accommodate him.”
“Then I am, aren’t I? Is that what you’re saying?”
He frowned, as if sensing that here was a dangerous topic for any man. But at least the conversation had one desired effect: He stopped his work to gaze at her. After some deliberation, he said, “Are you finding the trail too hard for you?”
“No.”
Again, frowning, he turned toward her. “Then where is this conversation tending?”
She gave him an innocent look. “It’s not tending anywhere. All I ask is for you to answer my question and tell me if you find me too…chubby.”
He blew out a breath and jerked his head slightly to the left. “You are not pudgy and you are not chubby. You are simply pregnant.”
“Mr. Lion, you are talking all around this and not getting to the point.”
“Hiya, what point?”
“I am trying to make the case that since I am becoming bigger, you do not find me to be so pretty.”
To his credit, he looked taken aback. “Have I said anything to make you think this?”
“No, but you do not have to. Your actions speak for you.”
“My actions? Have I not been considerate to you?”
“Yes, you have.”
“And have I not been taking care of you, despite our journey?”
“Yes, you have done very well in that regard. It’s only that…” She sighed. “I suppose the matter is irrelevant, so…please ignore it. Pretend I said nothing.”
If she hadn’t had his attention before, she certainly had it now. He took his measure of her slowly. By this time, the two lines between his brows had cut deep grooves.
She glanced away from him.
At last, he commented, “Why would you think this of me?” When she didn’t answer, he went on to say, “Perhaps you should finish what you were saying.”
“Oh, very well, if you must know…” she sighed, “…you seem to treat me as though I am as attractive as a sack of potatoes.”
“But I—” He stopped, and a look of cognizance gradually came over his face. After a while, he said, completely deadpan, “Actually, I have always found potatoes quite appealing, and a sack of them would be almost more than any man could resist.”
“Meaning that you think I am now ugly.”
“Meaning that I find you beautiful…and appealing.”
“Then why do you…? Are you not…?”
“Why am I not making love to you at every chance I have?”
She gave him a sheepish glance. “Well, you did tell me you intended to lure me to your… The truth is, I hardly feel lured.”
“Indeed?”
“I fear it is true. You are very polite, very considerate of me, very…”
“…understanding?” It was his turn to sigh. “You are trying to find and help your grandmother. I would aid you in your search, since your condition hardly makes this easy for you.”
“Yes, but—”
“And there are other dangers here as well—animals, the countryside, scouts who are out looking for us. Do not doubt me, I have every intention of luring you to my sleeping robes, but I would do so at a safe distance from the white man’s scouts.” He came down onto his knees before her, so that his face and hers were level. “Besides, I have seen how tired you are when we stop to rest. I would not add to your troubles.”
“Oh. That’s nice of you, but you still haven’t answered my question.”
“Have I not?” He picked up her hand, pressing it within his own. “Then let me be clear on this: I think you are the most beautiful woman of my acquaintance, and I am grateful every moment of every day that I had the presence of mind to propose to you the first moment I ever saw you. I intend to keep you as my wife. I always have.”
She leaned in toward him, and he reached up to smooth the backs of his fingers over her cheek. He said, “You brighten my day.”
“Indeed? Hmm…” she moaned, as he slid his fingers down over her neck. She shut her eyes, sighing again. “More…”
“More of what?” he asked, his voice low and husky. “More talking, or more of this?” His lips captured hers.
“I think I like…the last one,” she whispered, “best.”
Even before the words had left her mouth completely, Black Lion had risen onto his knees and was folding her into a deeper embrace. “Then you forgive me for what Rabbit Leggings said?”
“No, but it does not matter right now. I seem to…need this.”
“I too,” he agreed, nestling her head against his shoulder. “I too.”
He picked her up from where she sat on the log, and held her closely in his arms, much as a man might hold his bride. Carrying her to the shelter, he kicked back the pine branches that served as their doorway.
The lodge was small, it smelled of earth and pine and trees, and they would have barely been able to sit upright within it. Yet it was a haven. Fragrant boughs and his robe served as their bed, and as he set her upon its softness, he followed her down to the mat.
She didn’t have time to think, for he immediately pressed his lips over hers, nudging her mouth open so his tongue could dance with hers. He smelled
of earth and wind and pure, fresh air, and when she responded with everything in her, a growl escaped from his throat, the sound of it sending shivers of yearning over her skin.
Oh, to be closer to him, to feel his strength next to her. She snuggled in closer to him, but it still wasn’t enough. No matter how near she set herself to him, it didn’t seem close enough. She moaned at the inadequacy, not certain what she could do to attain the intimacy she craved.
At last, a thought occurred to her. “I think we are both wearing too many clothes.”
“Too many?” He frowned at her. “Do you not recall what happened the last time you complained of my shirt and asked me to take it off?”
“Yes, I do remember,” she answered without so much as a smile.
She noted the exact moment when realization dawned on him.
He said, “Ah,” and in his haste to remove his shirt, he practically tore the thing off him, throwing it to the side.
Immediately her gaze was caught by the view of a very male, very muscular chest. How would his skin feel against her fingertips? As she reached out to touch him, she noticed at once the differences in their skin texture and tones.
Hers was light against his. Too light, she thought. Indeed, at that moment, she believed his skin was the handsomer of the two by far.
His muscles were hard as she spread her fingertips over him, and she yearned to feel the texture of his chest against her own. Immediately, she sat up, and intent on making this a reality, she hugged him, nestling her head in the crook of his neck.
But it still wasn’t as close as she had hoped, perhaps because she was fully clothed.
At once, she applied herself to the task of taking off her own clothes, and though she was daintier and slower at the act of stripping than he had been, the buttons on her jacket came undone easily, and she shrugged out of it. However, there were layers of other clothing beneath.
He was frowning at them. “Why do you wear so many garments?”
“’Tis the style, I fear. But the clothes do keep a body warm.”
“Perhaps. Yet so many of them hinder free movement.”
“And are a bother to remove as well.” She smiled up at him.
He grinned back at her. “It is true, I think.”
Together they set to work over the buttons of her blouse, and she thought she had never seen a more delighted look come to a man’s face when he discovered that she had set out on this trip without a corset.
“It was just too much of a bother,” she explained.
“I am glad of that bother.” He slid the straps of her chemise down over her arms and off. At once, the undergarment dropped to her waist, revealing her femininity to his hungry gaze.
And he did admire her.
After a moment, he said, “You realize that if we go farther than this, neither one of us will be able to stop, until…”
She didn’t comment.
He continued, “I say this as a warning, so that if you object to what we do, you should tell me while I still have the will to stop.”
“I appreciate that. And I should stop, but…”
He lifted an eyebrow. “But?”
“I…want you.”
His reaction to her simple statement was a groan—a sound much too sensuous for her peace of mind. He laid her back against their fragrant pine mat and set to work kneading her soft and exposed feminine mounds, his lips following where his hands led. First he adored one breast with kiss upon kiss, then the other. Then, while his lips paid tribute to her, his fingers were already working over the buttons on her trousers.
At last it was done, and he came up over her to press another hot, wet kiss on her lips. She gloried in his fresh taste, musky and masculine, and in response she surged upward, determined to feel as much of his skin against her as she could. He acquiesced with no protest, and as soon as his flesh met hers, her pulse kicked into double time. So stirred was she by him, she forgot to think.
Back and forth, up and down, chest to chest, they reveled against each other, dancing to a rhythm of their own. He growled softly in her ear, “It feels so good.”
“Hmm,” she mumbled, unable to utter anything intelligently.
“Are you ready for more?”
“Please,” she begged.
Coming up onto his knees at her side, he reached down to urge her trousers and pantalettes over her thighs, her calves, her feet. While the cooler air assailed the lower part of her body, she was dismayed to see he still wore breechcloth and leggings.
“You are almost fully clothed,” she commented.
“Hau, that I am. Soon, I will lay naked with you, but for now, I would admire you.”
And admire he did. His gaze touched her everywhere. “You are a beautiful sight for any one man.” Reaching out for her hand, he held it within both of his own, kissing every one of her fingers. Briefly, he shut his eyes, rubbing her fingers against his cheek. Then he added aloud, “Canto’kignaka.”
She smiled. “What did you say?”
He hesitated, and his response was not the one she expected, for she had anticipated he would do no more than translate. However, he sighed. “My words mean that I have placed you in my heart. Perhaps it is too soon for me to tell you this, but I fear that…I love you.”
Her smile faded, even as her gaze clung to his. “You love me?”
He nodded. “Though I am uncertain that now is the right time to tell you, mayhap it is best you know.”
She was still caught up in the wonder of his confession, and she said again, “You love me?”
“Hau. In truth, I may have loved you from the first moment I ever saw you. I cannot be certain of that, but it is possible. What I do know with surety is that I love you now…and no matter what happens to me or to us, once I give my love, it is forever.”
“I… I…” she stammered, knowing she should say something back to him. But what? So unexpected was his declaration, she was momentarily stunned. “What do you mean by no matter what happens? You don’t expect anything bad to happen to you, do you?”
“A man never knows, and I am on a quest with an enemy I little understand and little know.”
“Yes, your quest with…the one you call the Thunderer.”
“Hau, hau.”
“Well, I have this to say to that. You had better not let anything happen to you. I have only just found you.”
He grinned at her. “Does that mean you like me a little?”
“I suspect it may be true, since here I am, naked before you.”
“So you are.” He smiled at her devilishly. “It is good that you remind me of this.”
She laughed slightly. Coming up into a seated position, she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. Simply hugged him.
“I am not certain what I feel,” she told him honestly. “I desire your lovemaking very much, but I still hesitate to trust you. However, I can say that I have admired you from afar, I wish for your touch, I melt when you look at me and I get excited at the mere mention of your name.”
His grin became more pronounced. “It is so?”
“Indeed.”
“I am glad to hear it,” he whispered against her ear, and he nudged her back onto their mat. He began to kiss her behind her ear, then over to her neck, to her cheek, to her lips, back down to her neck, to her chest, to each breast. She fidgeted beneath his ministrations, and closing her eyes, she offered herself to him as though she were a banquet.
He seemed only too willing to relish her, and his fingers slid reverently over her breasts as his kisses ranged ever lower…down to her stomach, her navel. On her own, her legs parted in invitation, and he accepted. With the fingers of one hand he aroused her, and with every touch her nerve endings erupted, as though set afire.
She squirmed beneath him, seeking the pleasure she knew he could give h
er. So when he at last found her most secret place, there between her legs, she sighed in relief.
He was taking her on an erotic journey, his tongue and his lips providing her with the means. Fiery and wet, his kisses made love to her.
“Spread your legs farther,” he whispered.
She did so at once.
An exquisite pleasure built up down there. Slowly at first, it raged within her, and then with more and more impetus it spread outward throughout her entire system, until she was lost to his expertise. She twisted beneath him, if only to experience the feeling more fully. And then it happened, and she was tripping over the edge of an emotional and highly charged precipice. As pleasure burst free within her, another very intimate discovery exploded through her thoughts.
She loved this man. She loved him dearly. How this had happened, she wasn’t quite certain. Yet she could not deny it. Nor did she even wish to. She simply loved him.
Should she tell him? Should she confess her heart’s deepest secrets?
No, she decided. Not yet. For now, it was enough he was here with her. She would savor the moment, for she was uncertain if this might be all she would ever have of him.
“It seems to me,” said the beautiful woman of his dreams, her voice as soft as a whisper, “that thus far our lovemaking has been a very one-sided affair. And unless you have once again taken matters into your own hands…”
He laughed, not knowing if she might share in his joke. Somehow, however, he thought not.
She said, “What is funny?”
Black Lion came up onto his forearms over her, and he grinned at this woman, to whom he had given his heart so thoroughly. “At some later time, I will tell you about the workings of a man, and how a man might sometimes literally take matters into his own hands.”