Brazen Ecstasy

by Janelle Taylor

  She quickly accepted, with one stipulation: The joining would take place as soon as a new tepee could be constructed, one without the ghost of her first mate, one in which to begin a new life with her first love. White Arrow calmly agreed. The joining was set to take place two weeks following the Sun Dance.

  Shalee watched her husband as he rode away to meet with Sturgis under the sign of truce. The day crept by, giving itself up to dark as slowly and reluctantly as winter had to spring. Night came, and he did not return. She dozed off and on, each waking moment fretting at his lengthy absence. Why did he tarry? Had Sturgis’ offer been a devious trick to lure him into danger? Had they felt compelled to withdraw their offer and retaliate for the devastation of Hodges’ men? Had Sturgis been slain himself? Had they resisted his wisdom and used him to entrap her love?

  Endless waiting and suffering! Why was she forced to sit by while her love confronted death and danger every day? She felt so useless and vulnerable.

  Morning came, and still no sign of her husband. Surely a simple discussion couldn’t take this long! Tense, she went to bathe in the river. She stripped and dove into the tepid water, delighting in its soothing arms. She swam back and forth, tiring her body and energizing her spirits. She finally moved toward the bank. She rose from the water and halted, the liquid surface lapping at her small waist.

  A hand tapped her upon the shoulder. She inhaled in alarm and instinctively turned to defend herself. She found herself staring into the smiling face of her husband. Roguish lights danced in his obsidian eyes. A beguiling grin curled up the corners of his sensual lips. Water glistened upon his bronze frame.

  “You!” she shrieked, then playfully pounded upon his brawny chest. “Where have you been? I’ve been out of my mind with worry!” she frantically scolded him.

  “You call playing like an otter in the river worried?” he teased mischievously. “You demanded I speak with Sturgis about peace. I did so.”

  He leaned forward and nibbled upon her ear, then sank into the water to gently ravish her breast. She stared at him in disbelief and mounting annoyance. “What happened?” she exclaimed in exasperation when he seemed content to make love to her right at that moment.

  “First, peace with my wife.” He devilishly continued his game.

  “If you do not tell me what happened with Sturgis, we shall have war,” she panted, slightly vexed with him and also enflamed by his actions.

  “How can you think and speak of the white man’s problems when I have a mounting problem of my own?” he jovially teased, closing her hand over his engorged manhood.

  “Men! You leave for days while I worry over your safety, then you sneak up and try to seduce me?” she rebuked him.

  “Peace is a thing of another sun, Shalee; our love is this sun. I have needed you and missed you. Sturgis spoke of truce and Gray Eagle spoke of truce. But others must talk and vote. When the tribes meet, I will give the words of Sturgis to them. I do not possess the power to speak for other tribes, not even my own without their vote. Sturgis has much power now; he is leader of all whites here. He must convince them peace is needed. He will speak to his people and I will speak to mine. We cannot force truce. All must agree.”

  She smiled in relief and exhilaration. “At least that’s a beginning,” she optimistically stated. “Between you and Sturgis, I know we can find peace,” she vowed confidently.

  “It is good if peace comes. I also wish our sons to know such days as long ago,” he admitted. “Does Wandering Doe make ready to join our brother?” he asked, behaving as if his prior line of thought was now forgotten.

  “I’ve been helping her with the new tepee. All will be ready soon.”

  She leaned forward against him and placed little bites upon his shoulder. As if distracted, he remarked, “Chela, Brave Bear, and Black Cloud will come soon. They will join our celebration and observe the Sun Dance with their brothers the Oglala. There is still much to do.”

  Since he was acting as if he was ending their heated moment and was about to leave the water, she asked seductively, to refresh his mind, “Do you recall the first time we made love here after I returned from the dead

  “Such thoughts could never leave my mind,” he huskily declared.

  She laughed cheerfully. “I was so afraid that day. I had forgotten what it was to love you without shame or restraint.”

  “Perhaps we should walk in the forest again today,” he hinted suggestively, clearly.

  She grinned. “Perhaps,” she nonchalantly agreed.

  “Come, Little One. It is time I show you how to greet your husband when he returns from a long and dangerous journey.” He took her hand and helped her from the water. He picked up a blanket and wrapped it loosely around her. He took her hand in his and strolled away.

  Finding a lovely spot where they would not be disturbed, he halted. She did not prevent his hand from removing the blanket. He laid it upon the soft grass. He sat down, then smiled up into her leaf-green eyes. He reached up to take her hands to pull her down to him, slowly falling backwards with her atop him.

  She laughed with carefree abandonment. “Did you have some new lesson in mind, my love?”

  “How so when I have not grown weary of the others?” he mirthfully jested, ebony eyes sparkling devilishly.

  Her breath caught in her throat and passion leaped into her lucid green eyes. Why did he always have this intoxicating effect upon her? How had she ever resisted him or briefly turned her heart against him? He was all she needed. “There are a variety of herbs to use in our food to enhance different favors as our moods and tastes change. Should we not search for loving herbs to stimulate us and to prevent future boredom?” she playfully hinted, unsuccessfully suppressing her giggles.

  He was amused and delighted by her stirring game. His eyes danced with laughter and love. “Do you grow weary of me and my touch when we have shared only five winters? What must I do to halt such dishonor?”

  “Teach me all you know?” she seductively entreated.

  “All?” he echoed, then chuckled.

  “Perhaps only what you desire me to know,” she ventured sweetly.

  Carefully and gently he rolled her to her back to lie half-on and half-off her naked body. His mouth closed over hers in a tender and inviting kiss. Soon, they were oblivious to all except their love and needs for each other. Over these past years, their love and passion had become enriched, had deepened and increased.

  A light breeze played over their bodies, and slender fingers of warm sunlight teased their flesh. His kisses burned like the desert sun over her face and throat. His husky voice was enchanting and compelling, pulling her deeper into his spell. Her blood pounded instinctively for what he freely offered: fulfillment and pleasure.

  Her hands wandered over his hard back and shoulders with light and tender touches, then hard and passionate caresses. She pulled him even closer and tighter against her eager body, enticing him to boldness. His teeth playfully teased at her lips and body, drawing little moans from her. For a time, he seemed content to masterfully explore every inch of her body, as she did his. He tantalized her over and over, stimulating her to yield to him completely.

  As if never having enough of him, she mutely pleaded for more contact. Fires now leaped and burned within them. Total surrender was taking place, no reservations, no holding back. Her head rolled from side to side as he nibbled and fondled her taut breasts. He thrilled to the feel of her warm hands upon his body as she titillated him in similar ways. Brazenly and heatedly she gave and took, as he did.

  When he finally eased within her fiery body, she accepted him with a fierce desire and feverish delight unmatched by any other woman. With each blissfully tormenting stroke, his body craved more and more of her. He wavered between deliberately leisurely probings and savagely desperate plunges. His body shuddered as he fought to control himself and his throbbing manhood. Each time his lips ravished hers or her breasts, the shaft quivered with the demand to frantically pierce
her womanhood in search of exquisite rapture. Yet he held a tight rein upon his wild stallion.

  Ensnared in this heady world of smoldering passion, he coached her with responses she knew by heart. Still, she thrilled to the words coming forth in that mellow and rich voice. Eventually, their bodies worked in perfect unison, the same goal in mind.

  Her eyes blazing with desire and love, she hoarsely commanded, “Now, my love. Take me now.”

  His cue received, he deftly plundered her body until both found treasures beyond belief. Lips, bodies, and spirits intermingled—they exploded into total bliss when they could no longer suppress or restrain themselves. In love’s golden afterglow, they lay locked together for a long time, savoring the sweetness and peace of this joyous union.

  Shalee propped herself up and gazed down into the arresting features of her husband, calling to mind the past six years since she had come to this vast wilderness and met this powerful and irresistible legend. In the beginning, their love had been forbidden and savage. Later, they could not deny their passions and had defied all forces to obtain this brazen ecstasy they now shared. Brazen ecstasy… what could more appropriately describe the climax to their fierce search for love?

  “What playful fox walks within your mind, Little One?” he asked, watching the glow that ever softened in her green eyes.

  She provocatively trailed her fingers over his bronze chest, then laughed happily as she seductively murmured, “It is no fox, my love, only a mighty eagle soars there.”

  Epilogue

  Late September of 1782 was tranquil in many ways. The days were mild and the nights were crisp. As if undecided about changing her face, Mother Nature was a lovely blending of summer and autumn. The fall buffalo hunt had been successfully completed and plans were under way for the coming winter. For a time, man and weather seemed at peace with nature.

  It had been months since the awesome defeat of the soldiers from Fort Henry. Talks concerning a lasting peace dominated many tribal meetings, as well as lengthy discussions at Fort Meade, where Colonel Derek Sturgis now commanded the white forces of this area, including Hodges’ replacement, Major Hollister Trent, at the ailing Fort Henry. No one knew for certain what had happened to Major Hodges; one day he simply vanished from sight. Some said he fled in fear of the Eagle; others claimed he met with foul play. Oddly, no one really cared.

  One appealing fact caught the watchful attention of both white and Indian: During the peace deliberations, no hostile episodes occurred. For a time, a fragile peace actually ruled the open Plains and lush forests, as obstinate and skeptical men verbally toyed with the seeming impossibility of it.

  Running Wolf recovered from his knife wounds from the white girl who had tragically entered his life. Yet, something was vastly different about the aging chief. He was quieter these days, often somber and withdrawn into himself. He never spoke the white girl’s name again; nor did he ever mention the name of his other son to anyone. He would remain ignorant of Shalee’s knowledge of his shame and heartache, for she would never tell him of his feverish confession. But it was clear something plagued the old man’s spirit, gradually draining his energy. However, he was dearly loved, and times were presently peaceful; there was no urgent need to declare his son chief just yet. But soon, such times would come.

  To Princess Shalee, the past was as dead as the unclaimed son who had lived and died as a despicable half-breed scout, a magnetic man whose rightful heritage had never been exposed or enjoyed. Shalee could close her eyes and envision the magnificent sight of those two brothers riding side by side, conquering all within their path and line of vision, brothers who had been similar in looks and character, brothers whose lives had both been touched and changed by the same white woman. If Powchutu still lived, she would have revealed his identity to her husband and have pressed for peace between them. It was too late. The weight of his rank upon his powerful shoulders, her husband did not deserve this added burden, which could not be removed or changed. Such tormenting skeletons would remain buried. With all her heart, she prayed they would….

  The day was destined to come when the fierce, but tender, Sioux warrior would rule this domain as chief. When that day arrived, Princess Shalee would be at his side. There was no turning back now; the English captive Alisha Williams existed no more. From this day forward, only Shalee—alleged daughter to Chief Black Cloud— lived and loved upon the Great Plains, her secret identity safe forever….

  Thoughts of Mary O’Hara and Joe Kenny often entered Shalee’s mind. She prayed they had finally discovered the same love and joy that she and Gray Eagle shared, that White Arrow and Wandering Doe were gradually exploring. Surely Mary’s love for Powchutu had ended with his untimely death….

  With Joe Kenny as Mary’s husband, all living persons could finally allow the ghost of the scout to rest. How Shalee wished Powchutu’s tragic existence had been different. He had truly loved Mary, as she had loved him. Sadness inspired Shalee to ponder his tragic waste, his lost destiny. Mary could have given him the peace of mind and powerful love that she could not, could not because she had met and loved his brother first. If only they had known a similar brazen ecstasy of love and passion….

  Peace, treachery, hostility, love, and passion… such powerful and often destructive forces…

  Today was exceptionally mild. Poised near the serene river that had once raged from snow-swollen waters and stolen her from her love’s side, Shalee was deep in thought as she recalled all that had happened since that fateful day last spring. A mellow voice called her from her reverie. She warmed instantly, then turned slowly.

  Princess Shalee walked toward the invincible Sioux warrior who was her husband. She was happy and vivacious these days. She yearned for the son who had filled the vision of her beloved. Sun Cloud… Yes, they would surely have another child some glorious day. As for the other baffling visions, she wisely put them aside. They exchanged smiles before his mouth closed over hers, their lips forging a passion and love too powerful and unique for any force to destroy.

  ZEBRA BOOKS

  are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp. 850 Third Avenue New York, NY 10022

  eISBN: 978-1-4201-2727-0

  Copyright © 1983 by Janelle Taylor

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the Publisher and neither the Author nor the Publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

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  Printed in the United States of America