She felt absolutely no compunction when his loving mouth released her wet, budding nipple, and he said against her breast, “Beauty, I want the rest of your clothes off so I can love you properly.”
Forgetting that only seconds earlier she had determined that his kissing her breasts was all she wanted or needed, Diane quickly replied, “You’ll help me undress?”
“I’ll undress you,” he assured her, gave her breast one last kiss, and raised his head.
Diane looked into his eyes while his amazingly adept hands found the tiny buttons at the waistband of her skirt, the tape of her petticoats. Pushing both down to the flare of her hips, Starkeeper gripped her narrow waist and urged her to her feet.
He stayed on his knees before her. His hands left her waist, returned to the loosened skirt and petticoats. Diane closed her eyes, but he ordered her to open them.
“Look at me, Beauty,” his deep, monotonic voice instructed. “Open your eyes and watch me undress you.”
Diane obeyed and found the experience highly enjoyable and exciting. She stood there in the cozy tipi’s flickering firelight while the most scarily handsome man she’d ever known knelt before her and slowly, expertly stripped her naked.
Starkeeper unhurriedly peeled away her white skirt, her full petticoats, and finally her lace-trimmed underpants. Soon the discarded garments lay pooled around her feet and Diane was as bare as the day she came into the world. And as unashamed.
Starkeeper sat back on his heels and openly admired her pale, naked beauty. Diane enjoyed his fierce scrutiny as much as he. Her slender form was firm and fit. She was proud of her body. She was in perfect health, had the long, graceful legs of a dancer, and kept herself as trim and well toned as an athlete.
Starkeeper saw neither dancer nor athlete as he looked at the beautiful woman standing proudly naked before him. He saw the palest, softest, most luscious embodiment of fragile femininity he’d ever laid eyes on. He saw a lovely raven-haired, ivory-skinned angel of love of which he was unworthy.
She was far too perfect to touch, to take. He should stay on his knees and worship her, not make love to her. She was so pale and lovely he felt the foolish need to protect her, even from himself. At the same time she was so innately sensual, so earthy and tempting he could hardly wait to get her in his bed.
“Exquisite,” he said, as he had earlier. It was the one word that best fit. “Beauty, you are the most exquisite work of art I’ve ever—”
“No work of art,” Diane softly interrupted. She reached for his hand, drew it up to her bare midriff. “Touch me,” she said. “Touch me and see for yourself.” Starkeeper’s hand moved down over the luminous flesh; his palm spread on her bare belly. “See. No cold sculpted stone,” she said, “but a woman. A flesh-and-blood woman. A woman on fire for you. Only for you.”
“Mine. My woman,” he said softly, the blood beginning to pound in his ears. “You’re mine, Beauty. Only mine.”
Starkeeper knew it wasn’t true but was too aroused to care. His hands gripped Diane’s narrow waist. He drew her close and kissed her ribs, her navel, her flat stomach. Diane gloried in the feel of his hot lips on her tingling skin. She was so caught up in the pleasure of his kisses she hardly knew when Starkeeper picked her up and laid her on his bed.
She stretched out on a soft bed of luxuriant furs and Starkeeper lay beside her. The sleek fur felt wonderful against her naked skin, and the dark, long-fingered hand stroking her sensitive flesh felt even better.
“I want you to stay here with me all night.” Starkeeper’s voice was low-pitched, very soft. He lay on his side, looking down at her, his weight supported on an elbow.
Diane looked up into his eyes. “Yes,” she told him. “Of course, I’ll stay all night. I’ll stay with you forever.”
He leaned over her face and kissed her. And while he kissed her, his hand caressed her breast, the thumb rubbing back and forth across the wet nipple. The long, drugging kiss continued, and when finally it ended, Starkeeper’s hand was no longer fondling her breast; it was stroking her bare belly.
Tingling from head to toe, Diane wondered when he was going to take off his tight white leggings and make love to her. She asked, and his answer was an enigmatic smile, and then Diane watched as he deliberately smeared his fingers with the residue of oil covering his bronzed chest.
When his fingers were well greased, he said, “Beauty, first let me love you with my pants on.”
And he promptly did so. Looking down into her dreamy purple eyes, Starkeeper raked his hand through the crisp raven curls between her legs, cupped her possessively, and whispered, “Give it to me, Beauty. Move your legs apart.”
She did as he asked, mesmerized by those compelling black eyes staring into hers. He held her gaze while his oiled fingers slipped between her thighs to touch her intimately. Diane’s breath caught in her throat when his middle finger settled onto that ultra-sensitive button of female flesh.
Starkeeper’s well-placed middle finger touched and stroked and circled that highly responsive little bud with infinite care and gentleness. And while he caressed her, he continued to look directly into her eyes.
Diane had never known such intense pleasure. There was fire in the tips of Starkeeper’s oiled fingers and fire in the black eyes locked with hers. The fire in his eyes held her in thrall; she couldn’t turn away, couldn’t keep from looking at him. The fire in his fingers held her captive; her body surged against that magical molding hand of her handsome conqueror.
She wanted this rapture to last forever. She wanted this torment to cease immediately. She was growing hotter and hotter, and she felt as if she were going to explode.
And so she did.
The glorious ecstasy-agony built to a great crescendo. And then that sweet eruption. Diane’s purple eyes widened in disbelief. She cried out and dug her sharp nails into Starkeeper’s shoulder as he lifted her to frightening heights of joy. Her eyes slid closed as she finally went limp against the soft bed of furs. She didn’t see the pleased expression that softened Starkeeper’s hard-featured face.
After only a few soothing, gentling kisses to her flushed face, Starkeeper rose to his feet and swiftly stripped off his white leggings. Sated, blissful, Diane unabashedly rolled onto her side and watched as he undressed. Smiling foolishly, she admired his magnificent physique: the broad, powerful chest; the trim waist; the long, lean legs; the tight, firm buttocks. His bronze body was a study in male perfection, fierce strength emanating from every beautiful contour.
Naturally what most intrigued her about his splendid anatomy was that part she’d never before seen. Her eyes went to the pulsing masculinity rising from the dense growth of blue-black curls covering his groin. She was immediately awed and half afraid.
Then he was back beside her, kissing her, touching her gently, and Diane found herself growing warm and excited again. Starkeeper held her close, stroked the length of her back and rounded buttocks, deliberately letting her feel the hardness of his erection throbbing against her bare belly.
When he moved between her parted legs and touched her, he found there was no need for oil this time. She was silky wet and burning hot. He came up on his knees and pushed her pale thighs farther apart with his dark, strong hands. Diane’s eyes closed. He asked her to open them. She did.
They looked at each other as he entered her. And when he was inside her, Starkeeper stayed perfectly still and stared at the beautiful woman, realizing he wanted her with a primitive need to possess her totally, to make her his own forever. Diane looked up at the harshly handsome man who was buried deep inside her and realized he truly was dangerous, a proud, primal male who held a frightening power over her.
Both felt the need to hold something of themselves back from the other. Neither was capable of doing it. Starkeeper began the slow, sensual movements of love-making, and Diane instinctively lifted her pelvis to meet his deep thrusts. They moved together in perfect carnal harmony, as though each knew the other’s body well.
Diane clung to the hard biceps of her experienced lover and gave herself wholly to him. The electrifying sensations touched off in her by this bronzed god’s artful lovemaking were frightening in their intensity. She realized she wanted him to be hers, and only hers. She longed to cry out to him that she belonged to him, and he belonged to her, and he must stay inside her forever.
Starkeeper supported his weight on his flattened palms and thrust rhythmically into her, sliding deeply inside, then withdrawing almost completely. He fully intended to keep the pace of his lovemaking slow and easy. He meant to bring his beautiful lover to climax again and again before he sought his own release. He wanted to show this lovely white goddess that he was no uncivilized savage who climaxed the minute he fell between a woman’s legs.
But the hot tightness so sweetly gripping him was swiftly threatening the self-control he had always taken for granted. He couldn’t believe it. He felt that rigid control slipping. He was in danger of losing it, of going over the edge.
Starkeeper quickly averted his eyes from that glowingly beautiful face, refused to look into those remarkable purple eyes. He bit the inside of his jaw with sharp, punishing teeth. He silently recited the words of a lengthy Shoshoni song he had learned as a boy.
Nothing worked. His climax was coming, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
Diane knew what was happening to him and felt a glorious surge of female power. She kept her eyes open wide while his closed helplessly in ecstasy. Eagerly she accommodated his deep, powerful thrusts, speeding her movements to match his. She watched his handsome face grimace, saw the veins stand out on his high forehead and bronzed throat, heard his great groan of satisfaction.
She then affectionately cradled his dark head on her breast when he collapsed against her. He panted heavily, sweat and oil rolling off his lean body, heartbeat rapid and heavy against her bare breasts.
Starkeeper was ashamed. And angry. And frightened. He was ashamed of himself. He was angry with her for so easily shattering his control. Most of all, he was frightened of her and of the power she held over him.
Diane stroked his deeply clefted back and pressed kisses to his jaw, and soon Starkeeper raised his head. She smiled at him and gently pushed on his chest. He didn’t smile back at her.
“No,” he said, “let me stay inside you. Let me grow aroused again so that I can give you pleasure.”
“But you did give me pleasure,” she murmured, and again attempted to wiggle free.
He wouldn’t allow it. He kissed her, forcing her to mold her lips to his. He kept kissing her until both began to grow excited.
This time Starkeeper made practiced, skillful love to Diane, slowing down each time she neared her release, then speeding up each time she began to calm, until at last she was begging him loudly, biting frantically on the slick flesh of his shoulder, very near to sexual hysterics.
And so he gave it to her.
Her climax was deep and earth-shattering. She screamed out and clung to him and cried, tears of wonder and joy spilling down her hot cheeks. Starkeeper kissed her and soothed her and murmured endearments until she stopped jerking in his arms. Gently he eased out of her, lay down beside her on the furs, and tenderly enfolded her in his arms.
After a sweet interlude of silent bliss Diane said against his throat, “Should I go now?”
Eyes closed, he answered lazily, “Sweetheart, the night is new. We’ve only begun to make love.”
“Mmm,” she sighed, and snuggled closer. In minutes both were fast asleep.
Diane awakened sometime hours later. She turned her head and saw Starkeeper asleep beside her. She was immediately overwhelmed by the recollection of what they had done. Of what she had done. She had shared with this handsome Indian the deepest intimacy possible between two human beings. Already she was sorry and ashamed.
Not that it wasn’t wonderful. It was. Too wonderful. Far more wonderful than she’d ever imagined. Her violet eyes ran slowly down the length of the sleeping naked man, and Diane was filled with regret. She now intimately knew his splendidly beautiful body but knew nothing of the man himself.
Other than what Golden Star had revealed and that he was a Shoshoni Indian and he had coldly kidnapped her.
Diane cautiously moved away from him, being careful not to disturb him. Hastily she dressed, anxiously pulling her clothes on over her nakedness, mindless of the oil smudges his body had left on hers.
As soon as she was dressed, she ducked out of Starkeeper’s tipi. There was only one thing on her mind. Escape. She had to get away from this dark, masterful man now before it was everlastingly too late.
Diane ran through the silent village in search of a horse. She would ride away, now, tonight, and forget that any of this had ever happened.
Starkeeper slowly awakened, smiled, stretched, and reached for Diane. His eyes came open. He sat up, looked anxiously around, then ground his even white teeth. She was even worse than the others. Once her curiosity had been satisfied, she couldn’t bear the thought of actually having slept with an Indian.
Hoping he was wrong, that she had only gone back to his grandmother’s for the sake of propriety, Starkeeper rose and pulled on the white leggings. He started toward his grandmother’s lodge but stopped short when he caught sight of Diane mounting a paint pony.
She was like all the others! Like every white woman he’d ever known. Seeking thrills by lying in his arms, enjoying the titillating danger of making love with a savage. Forbidden fruit. A vein throbbed on his forehead, and Starkeeper started toward her.
Diane saw Starkeeper bearing down on her, his expression mean. Immediately frightened, she attempted to ride him down. When she was upon him, he sidestepped at the last second, his arm shot out, he grabbed the paint’s bridle and jerked the big pony to a halt. Roughly he dragged Diane down off the horse.
“A little late in the day for a ride, isn’t it, Beauty?” he asked, angry and hurt.
Confused, frightened, she said, “Let me go! I want to leave! I don’t want this.… You’re not taking me back to your tipi! I won’t allow you to—to …” She faltered before those accusing dark eyes and hung her head.
He grabbed her arm and angrily escorted her back to his grandmother’s tipi.
Just outside Golden Star’s lodge, he stepped closer, captured Diane’s chin, lifted it, and said coldly, “If you’re ever in my arms again, just one word will do it.
“The word is no. No. That’s all you have to say. No. If you mean it, say it. No. And I will stop.”
Chapter 28
“No!”
“Yes.”
Their eyes clashed.
“No.” Then, more firmly: “No, I don’t, I won’t.”
“Yes. Yes, it’s true, I—”
“No.” The tall blond man repeated and again lifted the small square of red beaded leather held between gloved thumb and forefinger and studied it. “No, I don’t believe you. You do know more about this. Now tell me.” His green eyes were narrowed. His lips were pulled into a tight line amid the heavy growth of dark blond hair covering his tanned jaws and chin.
He lowered the small red beaded square, pushed his Stetson back on his blond head, and leaned over until his bearded face was only inches from the nervous little man behind the counter. He reached out, gripped the yoke of the store clerk’s white apron, and pulled him even closer.
“I’m saying it one last time.” The Cherokee Kid spoke angrily to the jittery proprietor of the LuLu City general store. “Is there anything you haven’t told me? This beaded square came from the neckband he was wearing. You surely saw him that day. Maybe even waited on them. Where were they headed? Where did they go when he left your store?”
Beads of sweat popping out on his thin upper lip, the store owner shook his balding head. “No. I’ve told you all I know. I didn’t see the savage or the woman. We all heard that a tall, fierce-looking Indian in breechcloth and chaps was walking up and down the sidewalks that day the merch
andise was stolen from my store. I found the beaded square of leather here on the counter. That’s it. That’s all I know. Please … let me go!”
Exasperated, the Kid released him with a shove. “Let’s get out of here,” he said to the two huge toughs flanking him. “Maybe down at the saloon somebody will have a better memory.” He stuck the beaded square into his shirt pocket, turned, and walked away.
Miners and cowboys anxiously got out of their way as the three big, dirty, rough men strode down the wooden sidewalks of LuLu City, Colorado. Whispers of speculation followed the dangerous-looking trio. Nervous glances were cast after their departing backs. The decent women of LuLu City cringed and quickly crossed the street.
At the Glory Hole Saloon the Cherokee Kid stopped. He gripped the winged double doors with both gloved hands and swung them inward. Then stood there holding the louvered doors open, the sunlight at his back, his booted feet wide apart. When every eye had turned to settle on him, he stepped inside. The brawny Leather-woods followed the Kid to the long wooden bar at the back of the room.
The Kid hooked a bootheel over the bar’s brass foot runner, peeled off his gloves, dropped them on the bar, and ordered a bourbon.
A ruddy-faced barkeep poured a shot glass full to the brim and shoved it across the polished bar. The Kid’s right hand shot out and gripped the bartender’s bony wrist.
“Leave the bottle,” he ordered.
The Kid downed the whiskey, wiped his mouth on a muscular forearm, then slowly turned to lean back against the bar. His green eyes scanned the shadowy, smoke-filled room as drinkers, poker players, and prostitutes fell silent to stare at him.
“I’m the Cherokee Kid,” he said, his leveled gaze sweeping over the sea of faces turned on him. “I’m trailing a no-good Indian that kidnapped a helpless white woman from Colonel Buck Buchannan’s Wild West Show’s troupe train just outside Denver. They came through LuLu City a few days ago.” He paused, hooked his thumbs in his low-riding gun belt, and added, “I’m waiting to buy drinks for the man who can tell me anything about the redskin and the woman.”
Nan Ryan Page 22