Black Horse by Veronica Blake Page B

the wet, heated kiss.
    Though his kisses caused the most wondrous sensations to erupt throughout her body, they were almostforgotten when Meadow felt his hands moving down to her waist and then along the curve of her hips. She gasped inwardly when she realized he had grabbed onto the fringe on the bottom of her dress, and was now raising the garment past her thighs. She wore nothing under her wedding dress, and his large hands eagerly clutched at her bare buttocks. He pulled her even closer as his fingers kneaded her soft skin. A moment of panic and fear gripped Meadow when she felt the rock-hard core of his manhood pressing against her stomach.
    Fleetingly, she remembered all the strict rules that governed the women of her tribe. She made a feeble attempt to pull away, but he ignored her efforts, and she quickly gave up the weak fight.
    Black Horse seemed vaguely aware of her mild protests. Tearing his lips away, then drawing in a ragged breath, he leaned back slightly. “Did you change your mind—?”
    “Never,” she interrupted without hesitation. She was vitally aware of the way his hands still clasped her buttocks, and even more aware of the way his manhood was no longer throbbing against her stomach. “But I can’t help being a little frightened,” she said in a raspy voice. Her mind whirled with indecision while her body sang with new and wanton yearnings.
    A tired sigh escaped from Black Horse. He did not release his tight hold on her. “I know, and I understand your feelings,” he admitted. “But if not for the Mountie, we would be married right now. And we should be living in our own homelands and carrying on the customs that have ruled our people since the beginning of time.” Black Horse’s voice was just awhisper as he added, “Nothing will ever be the same again for the Sioux. All that matters now is survival and this…” His head tilted down as his lips claimed hers in another demanding kiss.
    Black Horse’s words had almost the same meaning as the things White Buffalo had said to her before the wedding, and at this moment their reasoning had never made more sense. There might not be a future for the Sioux, and tomorrow might never come…and tonight was all that mattered.
    Without further delay, Meadow raised her arms up as Black Horse lifted her dress up over her head. A shiver claimed her as the chill of the autumn night brushed against her skin. Her breath caught in her throat as anticipation and nervousness made her entire body quiver. She crossed her arms over her breasts when she no longer had her dress to cover her. Black Horse reached out and pushed her arms back down to her sides. An intense anxiety bolted through Meadow as she stood completely exposed before him. Even in the near darkness, she could see the twinkle in his dark eyes as he closely surveyed her trembling body. The smile on his face suggested that he definitely liked what he saw.
    When he reached out to her again, she eagerly sought his arms. She felt her bare breasts flatten against his hard body, felt his swollen, hard manhood straining against his breechcloth again. There was no turning back.
    Black Horse let his hands roam freely over her soft skin. He could feel her tremble, and he could sense hercomplete surrender. An anxious quiver shot through him as he thought about the beautiful sight of her firm young body. The silken paleness of Meadow’s skin excited him more than he’d ever thought possible. He wanted to make her his woman now in every way, without another moment’s hesitation.
    In a single movement, Black Horse pulled his breechcloth away from his hips. He tossed it into the darkness of the night.
    The warmth of his bare manhood touched Meadow, and jumbled thoughts of the whisperings she had heard from the women of the tribe regarding the intimacy they shared with their husbands, combined with the realization of what he would soon be doing to her, made her knees grow weak. Not one coherent thought entered