Apache Protectors: Running Wolf Part 15

She shivered as she thought of the intensity of his stare and how hard it was not to follow him. What was this longing to be in his company?

She listened to the murmured voices. Spotted Fawn. Laughing Moon. The old chief. And finally Running Wolf. The night was bright with stars, and now that she had a sleeping skin she was warm enough. So why did she not lie down to rest? Why did she inch closer to the place where she knew he sat? It was pitiable, her efforts to be near him.

Still, he had saved her again today, kept that white devil from taking her from the village. She knew what that man had planned, had seen it in his eyes. The thought made her sick. But when she imagined doing that same thing with Running Wolf her body tingled and pulsed with need.

The council lodge flap opened and men stepped out. Raven retreated farther into the shadows between the two lodges.

Time pa.s.sed. She dozed, coming awake from some unknown instinct. She looked up to see him standing over her.

"You," she whispered.

"I should not be here," he said as if to himself.

In response she threw back the buffalo robe that covered her, revealing herself to him. She heard his intake of breath as he dropped to his knees.

He wore only his breechclout, and she could see the soft leather stretching with his arousal.

"You saved me," she whispered.

"I captured you."

"I would have you capture me once more."

"We have no future, you and me."

"We have tonight."

Raven rose up on her knees to face him and looped her hands behind his neck. His arms came around her as she pressed her cheek against his chest. His heart beat strong and steady beneath her, and it gave her courage.

She reached to his hip to release the cord that held his breechclout in place. Her hands stilled as he stroked the soft skin of her hips, exploring her body, becoming familiar with the round curve of her bottom and the slope of her spine.

Raven rocked against him, her hips meeting his. Only the sc.r.a.p of soft leather separated them, and it did nothing to disguise his need. She pressed firmly against his erection. He sucked in air between his teeth. Then he did capture her, his hands controlling, holding her in place, deepening the contact of their hips.

Running Wolf breathed in her scent as his blood zipped through his veins, faster than any arrow. Her hands now cascaded up and down his back in feathery caresses that drove him mad. He'd have to step away to release the barrier that separated them because she seemed to have forgotten her mission to free him. He struggled against his need to take her right here outside his chief's lodge, a few steps from the woman he was supposed to be courting. Should he take Raven away, somewhere they would not be disturbed?

He recalled stumbling on more than one couple in the tall gra.s.s when the spring afternoons turned warm and the insects buzzed from blossom to blossom. Now he was the bee and she the delicate flower. Would she open her petals and let him taste her nectar?

He longed to stroke between her legs to see if his touch excited her, but he let her explore his shoulders as her hot breath heated his flesh. She drew their hips apart and then thrust, b.u.mping against his arousal. The signal could not be misconstrued. She wanted him and he needed her. Tomorrow, in the daylight, they must return to their roles of captive and warrior, but tonight he was hers.

Raven's hands looped about his neck and she leaned back, giving him a fine view of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, full and round in the blue moonlight, her dark nipples tight and hard. He draped her over his arm, whispering to her secret words of wanting and of her power over him.

He wished he could spend each night of his life caressing her firm bottom and nuzzling against the soft pillow of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. As he took one tight nipple into his mouth and drew, he felt the perfect bud draw tighter.

She was as malleable as hot clay. As he sucked, she fisted her hands in his hair, and made soft mewing sounds of need that drove him mad. He pulled her back to an upright position and she fell against him. He took a moment to release the knot at his hip and drew away the breechclout.

She stared first at his face and then her gaze slid down. He remained still for her perusal, but it was hard. He wanted to please her, excite her, drive her to madness and make her his own. But it all depended on her. Would she accept him?

Of course she had seen naked men. But had she seen one aroused and trembling with desire?

He certainly hoped not.

She reached, and before her fingers even closed around him, his erection jumped in antic.i.p.ation. She gripped him with a firm hold and slowly pulled, letting him slide through her fingers. He closed his eyes to savor the soft velvet of her touch. She stepped toward him, pressing his pulsing flesh against the softness of her belly with her palm.

Was it that she was forbidden that made her touch so exciting?

When he opened his eyes it was to see her staring up at him with an expression of need. She smiled and he did, as well.

When she moved away it was to stretch out before him. Her body glowed, pale in the dark shadows of the lodge.

Her torso was narrow. Her stomach flat with a slight doming at her s.e.x. He stared at the triangle of dark curls. Unable to resist, he dropped to his knees beside her and slid his hand over her hip and down into that nest of tight curls. She whimpered as his fingers slipped between her legs. Raven drew up her knees and then let them splay, welcoming his touch.

Running Wolf stretched out beside her, nestling close against the warmth of her body. She rolled to her side and rubbed her bottom against his erection as he stroked her slick, warm flesh. Raven rocked, pressing back to him and rubbing against his hand.

The mewling sound in her throat came again, and she could not seem to catch her breath.

He'd never taken a woman of his tribe. He had never wanted a woman badly enough to make an offer to her father, until now. He was certain that Snow Raven was also a novice at this game, but somehow she was willing to allow him where no man had ever been. Perhaps, like him, he left her with nothing but a need too great to be denied.

He closed his eyes, knowing he should stop-knowing he would not.

They had no future. But they had tonight.

Chapter Thirteen.

Raven lifted her head, offering her mouth, and he slanted his over hers. Her lips were soft and warm, her tongue pliant. He pulled her tighter. Running Wolf thrust his tongue over hers, showing her what he meant to do to her, tasting the sweetness of her mouth. Her cry of need m.u.f.fled.

Did she know what she was doing? Did he? She was a captive, an enemy, and none of it mattered. All that mattered was his need to please her and to make her his own.

But taking her would not protect her. In fact, if any discovered them, it would place her in even more danger. How could he protect her from all the threats she faced? His mother, Spotted Fawn's inevitable jealousy, Red Hawk, who wanted her dead, and the men in his tribe who wanted her as a common woman.

His need put her at risk. He knew it, and his hand, the one that made her blind with need, stilled. He began to pull away and then she captured him, trapping him and guiding his fingers until they slipped inside her pa.s.sage. His hands moved, one stroking the sweet slick folds between her legs while the other moved rhythmically inside her. All the while he rocked his hips against her, his erection pressing to her lovely round backside. But he waited, wanting her to know the joys of release.

She rocked faster. He matched the pace she set.

Then from her throat came the low moan. Raven arched against him, while deep inside her body the rolling contraction moved over his questing fingers. The next time she reached the crest of this mountain, he vowed to be inside her.

She went slack in his embrace and he held her, dipping to scoop her up in his arms. His first thought was to run with her, away from his tribe, away from his people.

But that was madness.

Despite what she had told him, that she wanted a man who would look to her needs above all else, he could not be that man. He could not abandon his tribe for a woman. True, he might someday move from his clan to the clan of his wife, but his wife would be Sioux. She must be.

Her breath still rasped, but her body was calm as he held her close.

How could he make Raven Sioux?

He recalled that Spotted Fawn had lost a sister. The baby had been born without a heartbeat. She could adopt Raven, bring her into her family. And if Running Wolf married her, he could also marry the sister of his wife. That way he could protect Raven and he could still make the chief happy, become the next chief himself.

He knew what she wanted, longed for. A man who would look to her needs before his own and before his people.

He could not. But he could protect her.

Raven opened her eyes and reached for him as he slid a knee between her legs. She spread her thighs for him, eager, he thought, for their coupling.

He reached between them, feeling the sweet slickness of her need. He would keep her, make her his in the only way he knew how. But would she accept him? Would she be pleased to become Sioux?

"Raven, will you stay with me?"

"Yes."

"Not just for tonight."

"If I was free, I would choose you, keep your lodge and bear your children, Running Wolf."

He closed his eyes at the meaning of her words, the ones spoken between a wife and her husband. She chose him.

She gave a soft moan of need and lifted her hips so that his fingers sank deeper into her body. She threaded her fingers in his hair and tugged, bringing him closer.

She wanted him. He didn't care why. He would take her, protect her. Love her. And somehow he would bring her into his life. A captive. A second wife. He did not know. But he accepted her because he could do nothing else.

He moved his hands upward, and this time she did not stop him. He wrapped both arms about her and pulled her tight against the length of his body. His head fit beside hers and her back warmed his front.

"I will protect you," he said.

She gave a soft moan and she turned her head. Their mouths pressed tight, sealing their promises.

His hands roamed up and down, over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, the soft skin of her belly and the strong, firm muscles of her thighs. She twisted so they lay face-to-face on their sides. Then she stroked his chest with featherlight caresses. He gasped as her fingers danced lower, collecting him in both hands and measuring the length of him.

He had been ready for her since the first moment he had seen her, but he wanted this to be perfect. He would not hurry. He would show the control he needed to so that she would know what life would be like with him, even if she must share him with another. She would be his favorite, though he could never say so aloud.

Her mouth was on his skin, kissing and licking. He groaned as he directed her mouth to his chest, holding her head against him. She hesitated only an instant before drawing his nipple into her mouth. The tug and draw sent an electric charge of sweet desire bolting through him, increasing his readiness and his need.

He leaned forward, nuzzling against the soft lobe of her ear as he fondled the swell of her soft b.r.e.a.s.t.s. She gave a low moan as he sucked. Her breathing grew labored and her expression strained. Her skin was flushed, her body all sweet surrender. In this, at least, she was willing to yield.

Raven trembled as she looked up at him, her eyes huge and dark. He could still see the need reflected there. She wanted him. He brushed back her long hair and then threaded his fingers through the richness of her mane, lifting her head, bringing her mouth to his. She exhaled the breath she held in a long sigh as their mouths joined.

He arched away, holding himself up upon his elbows, and ran one finger along the outer edge of one breast. She shivered and writhed. He made wide circles around her soft flesh, stroking, until her back left the ground in her eagerness to feel his touch. She captured one hand and pressed it firmly to her breast.

He watched her as he stroked the soft flesh on her inner thighs. She splayed her legs for him again. He looked down at her, open, wet and waiting, and his need surged like a horse galloping over open ground.

Raven reached up and gripped his shoulders, her fingers turning to claws as she scored his flesh all the way down his exposed back. The sensation sent chills down his spine and heightened his desire. He pushed one leg between hers and she spread her thighs farther apart. He reached between them to stroke the warm, damp curls.

She lifted her hips and tossed her head. He rolled between her legs, moving his hand from her aroused flesh to his, positioning himself to take her, feeling his own fingers slide over his erection as he lifted his hips, readying his shaft like that of an arrow. Poised and ready to shoot forward deep into her needy flesh.

Running Wolf did not dart forward, but lowered himself inside her with slow deliberation, a warrior claiming what he had won. His intrusion stretched her tender flesh so she seemed to be clasping him with her body. Each movement tested his will, for it was so difficult not to greedily take what she offered.

But a prize such as Raven's innocence was more valuable to him than any coup he had ever won, for this was not something he took, but something she gave.

The barrier pressed against his needy flesh and he did not pause, just continued on with slow determination. He watched her face as her body yielded to this intrusion. Her brow knit for a moment and then she released her breath in a long sigh. She lifted her gaze to his and smiled as he settled as far inside her body as nature allowed.

And still it was not near enough.

They shared a moment of calm as he waited for her to give him some signal or sign that his claiming had not been too painful.

"Raven?" he whispered. "Are you... Did I hurt you?"

"No," she said.

He should have known that his warrior woman would not cringe now. Her courage impressed all, and in this moment she was no different-brave and eager.

He drew back and then moved forward just a bit. She groaned.

"Pain?" he asked.

"Pleasure." She stroked his face. "Don't stop, Running Wolf, do not ever stop."

Her heels dug into his flanks and suddenly he was the stallion she rode at breakneck speeds. He drove and she lifted to meet his stroke, her body squeezing his, causing the most maddening, wonderful, exquisite vibrations he had ever known.

Running Wolf's fingers danced over the wetness, his touch bringing a sharp, sweet stab of sensation between her legs. She felt the building tension that told her she climbed toward that magnificent shattering bliss.

Raven lifted her hips, bringing him tight against her. He rocked, in fluid grace. His glide and thrust drove her mad, and she tossed her head as her fingernails raked his skin.

The tension burst inside her, rolling outward like a thundercloud, sending vibrations of pleasure out from her center. She rode the thrumming pulse of gratification till the last sweet quaking dissolved into exhaustion. Her body trembled from fatigue, but now he bucked forward with a stifled cry of release. She felt the part of him that was inside her contracting again and again. She lifted her weary arms and held him tight as he fell half on top of her.

His breath came in hot blasts, sweet against her neck.

He rolled away so that he stretched beside her. The cool, dry air chilled the beads of moisture from her skin as they lay still. When she shivered, he drew her close and pulled the buffalo robe over them.

She had given her virtue to this man, willingly as he wished. She did not regret that, but her mind now jabbered at her like a blue jay in the woods. The other captives, they expected her to lead them, and she had agreed to go. But how could she leave this man? The very thought gave her physical pain.

"What will happen now?" she asked, more to herself than to him.

"What do you mean?" he asked. "All will be as before. I will protect you as I have said."

"Protect me?" she echoed.

The chill she felt now rose from within. Understanding came at last. Her feelings for him could not change what was, and like a sparrow in a tornado she tumbled where the wind blew her with no power to stop the storm.

Running Wolf tried to tuck her closer, but she stiffened in his arms. He lifted up on one elbow to look down at her and realized they were only ten paces behind the chief's lodge. Had he lost all reason? What if Iron Bear came out to relieve himself and found him here with this woman?