Wind Rider (18 page)

“You go to her!” Spotted Doe spat. “Are you
so enamored of her white skin that I am no
longer pleasing to you? Are you remembering
your own white heritage? Perhaps you should return to the white world.”

“Think carefully before you speak again,
Spotted Doe.” Wind Rider’s voice was low
with implied menace, bringing Spotted Doe’s
hurtful words to an abrupt halt. With marked
reluctance, she lay down. Wind Rider turned
his back on her and continued on to where
Hannah lay.

He dropped to his knees, whipped off his breechclout, pulled back the covers, and slid down beside her. When his hand sought her
breast Hannah stiffened. Surely he didn’t
intend to make love to her with Spotted Doe
watching, did he? It might be the Indian way, but it wasn’t her way.

“Don’t!” she hissed when he turned her
toward him.

“You are my wife.”

“So is Spotted Doe. Go to her.”

“I don’t want her.” His hand slid between
her legs.

“Not with Spotted Doe watching!” Her voice
sounded frantic, touching something deep
inside Wind Rider.

“If that is your wish, we will go where no one
can watch us.” Scooping her into his arms, he
rose, kicked aside the flap, and strode outside. Hannah had sense enough to drag one of the
blankets with her as Wind Rider carried her
into the woods.

The following day the great Sioux chief Red
Cloud returned from the council at Fort
Laramie, where he and several important
Sioux leaders and prominent Cheyenne chiefs
had gathered to negotiate terms for use of the
Bozeman Trail, which cut directly through
much of the buffalo country. But much to Red
Cloud’s chagrin, there had been no negotiating.
The army was prepared only to issue demands.
What the chiefs did not find out until the nego
tiating had reached a stalemate was that as
they were parlaying, Colonel Henry Carrington
had arrived at the fort on his way to build forts
along the Bozeman. When Red Cloud learned
of this he fell into a rage and left the fort, which
was tantamount to a declaration of war by the Sioux and Cheyenne Nations.

Immediately upon his return to his village,
Red Cloud called a council meeting to tell his people what had transpired at Fort Laramie.
Wind Rider listened carefully as the great chief
described how the army wanted to steal the
Bozeman Trail from the Indians while offering cheap gifts to appease them. Wind Rider knew
instinctively that nothing short of a miracle, or
the demise of the entire Indian nation, could
halt the ensuing bloodshed. Mentally, he pre
pared himself for a long battle that would most
likely end with his death.

Hannah felt tension building in the village and was puzzled by it. She had learned a few
words of the Sioux language, but not enough to know what Red Cloud’s words to his people meant. Spotted Doe consistently refused to speak to Hannah, so Hannah learned nothing
from her about the current situation.

Just thinking about what had happened after
Wind Rider carried her off into the woods
the night before brought color rushing up
Hannah’s neck. She had tried; Lord knew
she had tried to discourage Wind Rider, but
he would not listen. Instead, he made love to her until the blood sang through her veins and
nothing mattered but the touch of his hands
and his mouth on her body, until she begged
him to make her one with him.

When Hannah saw Wind Rider striding toward her, his body tense, his mouth com
pressed into a grim slash across his face, she
knew Red Cloud was not the bearer of good news. He stopped inches from her, grasped her arm, and dragged her inside the tepee.

“What is it?” Hannah cried, perturbed by his
brusque manner.

“War,” Wind Rider said. “The army will not
listen to reason. Tonight all the men of the
tribe will gather to dance and feast before
going to the purification hut. We will remain
sequestered in the hut for two days, fasting and
praying for the Great Spirit’s blessing.”

Hannah blanched. “Then what?”

“The War Dog society and the Strong Heart
Society will ride out together to raid along
the Bozeman Trail, while Red Cloud remains behind to rest and fortify himself before join
ing us.”

“You’re leaving.” Her voice quivered. “What
will happen to me?”

“Nothing. You will remain behind and wait
for me to return.” Unspoken between them was
the possibility that he might not return.

“Coyote will remain behind with the Shield
Society to protect the village. I have asked him
to provide you and Spotted Doe with meat. If I do not return, he has agreed to take you to
the fort.”

Hannah sagged, half in relief and half
in fear. Without Wind Rider’s protection
she’d be completely vulnerable to the tribe’s
whims. They might decide to give her to
Cut Nose or another like him. But even
more terrifying was the thought of Wind
Rider’s death. A vicious stab of pain made
her gasp and shake her head in vigorous
denial.

Wind Rider’s expression softened. “Does the
thought of my death make you unhappy, Little
Sparrow?”

“Of-of course not,” she stammered, aware that she was lying. “I fear for my own safety.”

“You lie,” Wind Rider whispered. His silver
eyes glowed hotly as he pulled her against the
hard wall of his bare chest. “Last night you
were a wild thing in my arms, loving everything
I did to you and begging for more.”

Long lashes slid down to shutter her green
eyes, resting like dark butterfly wings against
her pale cheeks. She could not deny Wind Rid
er s words. ”I-I could not help myself.”

“Nor I,” Wind Rider admitted.

“Spotted Doe is very angry.”

“I did not want Spotted Doe. I took her for
my second wife to appease her family. I am not
required to lie with her. Look at me.”

Tilting her chin upward, Wind Rider made it
all but impossible for her to look away. Slowly,
her lashes swept upward, baring her soul to
the hypnotic spell of his silver eyes. What he
saw must have pleased him, for he lowered his
head and kissed her, drawing her even further
into the magnetic power he held over her.
His mouth was soft, drugging and addictive.
Prodding her lips apart with the hard blade
of his tongue, he deepened the kiss, pressing
his body against hers, making her fully aware
of his blatant state of arousal.

When he slowly bore her down to the mat
spread out beneath the smokehole Hannah
gasped and fought free from his grasp. “Wind
Rider, no! Spotted Doe could come in at any moment/’

“She will not return any time soon,” Wind
Rider said with assurance. “She went with the other women to gather berries and edible roots
for the feast tonight.” Grasping her shoulders,
he lowered her to the pallet. “This is the last
time we can be together like this before I
leave,” he murmured softly against her ear.

Before she could reply his mouth found hers
again, his tongue penetrating deeply, unable
to get enough of the taste and texture of her.
Breaking off the kiss, his lips slid along the
slim column of her neck, pausing where the
pulse throbbed at the base of her throat before
continuing downward to where his fingers had
loosened the ties of her tunic. Impatiently, he pulled the opening wider, exposing her to the
wet lash of his tongue as he kissed a molten
path to her breasts. When even that didn’t satisfy him, he worked the tunic down her
arms and over her hips and tossed it aside.
His breechclout followed.

Desire for her surged, awakening in him a
need that almost destroyed him. He hated
being so deeply affected by a woman but
couldn’t help himself. He kissed her again, his sharp teeth nipping at her soft bottom lip,
then soothing it with his tongue. His fierce aggression made her tremble with heightened
awareness as she willingly surrendered to his passion, kissing him back with wanton fervor.

He was not gentle as his hands possessively
gripped her bare back and buttocks, pulling
her to him as he vigorously sucked and licked
her breasts. She cried out, winding her hands
into his hair and pulling him closer. With
the detachment of one lost in pleasure, she
watched as he released one wet pink-tipped
breast and sucked the other deeply into his
greedy mouth. Feasting on her as if he’d never
get his fill, his hot open lips blazed a burning
trail to her bare belly, placing sweet kisses
on the copper fleece at the base of her pale
thighs.

Trembling violently, Hannah no longer felt in
control of her body as molten heat built within
her and painful need asserted itself. When his warm fingers stroked the insides of her thighs
they parted to allow him total access. In one
smooth motion he slid between her parted legs.
His hands went beneath her and his strong
fingers clasped her rounded buttocks, lifting
her to his mouth. His silver eyes glowed with
unholy light as he slowly lowered his head.
His hot breath seared her. He kissed her as though he was kissing her mouth; his mouth,
his teeth, his tongue touching her, caressing
her, parting her.

Delight shuddered through her as his tongue
boldly invaded her. Hearing her sharp intake
of breath, Wind Rider s tongue sought even
deeper intimacy as it found the tiny nub of
pleasure and stroked, caressed, and nipped until her body was pushed to the very limits of endurance. When he raised his head to look into her eyes Hannah cried out, fearing he would take his dazzling mouth from her and
leave her tottering at the edge of madness.

“I won’t leave you, Little Sparrow,” he vowed
raggedly as his lips found her again, this time
sending her plummeting beyond mere pleasure
to a place that defied description.

Terrified by the height of the rapturous delight she experienced in this man’s arms, Hannah suddenly realized that the depth of
love she felt for Wind Rider would never
be equaled. This white Indian had somehow
reached into her heart to banish her fear of
all men. Her mind, her body, her soul was his
to explore, to arouse, to love at will.

Rushing headlong toward total release,
Hannah’s body tensed. Heat enveloped her,
and she jerked her pelvis into the hot, open
center of his mouth. His tongue stroked
harder, deeper, lashing her until the first
tiny tremors built into a burst of ecstasy so
intense, she arched and screamed as molten
fire pulsed through her veins. It went on for
ever. Spiraling through her, upward, outward, down, down ... wild, wrenching, frightening.
Nothing could heal her now but the hot, molten
lash of his tongue.

Wind Rider did not leave her, not until he had given her all she needed, despite the urgent
clamoring of his own desire. His release was so
dangerously close, he knew that all it would
take to reach climax was one deep thrust into the slick heat of her. As the last involuntary shudder left her body, he raised his head and
smiled at her.

Dragging in deep, ragged breaths, Hannah
opened her eyes and saw Wind Rider grinning at her. She knew he hadn’t had his own release and felt the crisp hair of his groin and the thick length of his rigid manhood throbbing against her thigh. With trembling fingers she reached
between them and grasped him. He groaned
as if in agony, his hand closing over hers to
guide its motion. When he dropped his hand
she continued the caress, her eyes never leav
ing his face. Her boldness pleased him and his
smile told her so.

“Enough, Little Sparrow!” he barked hoarse
ly, jerking her hand aside.

With their eyes still locked, he gripped him
self, inserted the swollen tip into her, and
thrust. Hannah sighed with pleasure as his
hands moved down her hips to lift her to
him, taking him deeply inside her. They moved
together in a wild crescendo of fire and pas
sion, give and take, push and pull, their bodies
meeting and parting in splendid fury.