English!"
He adjusted his grip in her hair and silently studied her face, taking in her cheekbones, her eyes, her forehead, her nose. Her lips.
Her heartbeat doubled.
His gaze lingered on her lips, and when they parted -- completely against her will -- he let go her wrist and reached up to glide a finger over her bottom lip. It felt so good she almost moaned.
The feathers tied in his hair fluttered on the breeze. The chilly stream swirled about their legs, churning up pebbles and mud in a cloud around them, but she barely noticed. He unwound his hand from her hair and spread the thick strands over her shoulders, fingering the texture, examining the golden color in the sunlight. He reached up and brushed her cheeks with both hands, tracing over her trembling jaw and down her neck with the rough pads of his fingers.
She watched his fierce expression as he touched her, mesmerized by the hunger she saw reflected in his eyes. He wanted her. He meant to have her. Her heart hammered in her chest, telling her to run for her life. But the cold water must have numbed the muscles in her legs for they were as leaden as two anchors holding her in place.
His gaze latched with hers as he slid his hand along her collarbone, then dropped it in a slow glide to cover her breast. She gasped. Her shamelessly eager nipple hardened at his touch, sending an agonizing stab of desire all the way to her toes and back up to lodge in her most intimate place. She jerked away, embarrassed by the intensity of her body's response to his trespass.
"No!" she cried again and bolted. She got as far as the bank before she heard his deep, rumbling laugh. She whirled in surprise.
"I will catch you, Pale As Moonlight, " he called to her, the devil's own smile on his face. "And then I will make you my woman. "
Pale as-- "W-- What?"
"But we can play eagle and mouse if it is what you want. " His eyes challenged her to either come to him or run like the wind.
Panic flooded her as she realized she had little hope of escape. She swallowed. What would it be like to lie beneath this savage stranger, to open herself and accept his body into hers? Terrified of the answer, she turned and flew across the meadow.
He gave her a head start, but was never far behind. She could hear his quiet footfalls, his steady breathing, the rustle of dry leaves beneath his moccasins.
"You're making a big mistake, " she panted. "They won't allow this to go unpunished. They'll send the cavalry to hunt you down. "
She ran and ran, darted around the trees and bushes, trying her best to elude him. But he was always there, closing the gap between them, slowly but surely. Effortlessly.
It was useless. She felt his hands grasp her around the waist, hauling her to a stop. Winded, she grabbed for the knife at his hip. He easily brushed her off. She squealed a protest when he hoisted her like a sack of feed over his broad shoulder. Oh, Lord. Images of what would happen to her flashed through her mind, galvanizing her resistance.
He carried her like so much kindling, despite her kicking and screaming.
"Quiet, " he admonished. "The others will hear you. "
"Good!" She yelled at the top of her lungs, "Heeelllllp!" beating his back with her fists.
"They'll want their turn. "
She clamped her mouth shut.
How could she have been so foolish? Of course he wouldn't be alone. A war party, Ernie had said.
He walked back to the meadow with her, and whisked the blanket off his horse, tossing it on the ground and her on top of it.
She peered up at him, frightened. "You'd let them?"
"I'd kill them first, " he said calmly.
He swiftly straddled her, gripping her hips between his knees, and stuck his knife into the ground beside the blanket. He unwound the thin sweetgrass rope from around his shoulder, wrapped the middle of it's generous length a couple of times around the trunk of a sapling at the head
He adjusted his grip in her hair and silently studied her face, taking in her cheekbones, her eyes, her forehead, her nose. Her lips.
Her heartbeat doubled.
His gaze lingered on her lips, and when they parted -- completely against her will -- he let go her wrist and reached up to glide a finger over her bottom lip. It felt so good she almost moaned.
The feathers tied in his hair fluttered on the breeze. The chilly stream swirled about their legs, churning up pebbles and mud in a cloud around them, but she barely noticed. He unwound his hand from her hair and spread the thick strands over her shoulders, fingering the texture, examining the golden color in the sunlight. He reached up and brushed her cheeks with both hands, tracing over her trembling jaw and down her neck with the rough pads of his fingers.
She watched his fierce expression as he touched her, mesmerized by the hunger she saw reflected in his eyes. He wanted her. He meant to have her. Her heart hammered in her chest, telling her to run for her life. But the cold water must have numbed the muscles in her legs for they were as leaden as two anchors holding her in place.
His gaze latched with hers as he slid his hand along her collarbone, then dropped it in a slow glide to cover her breast. She gasped. Her shamelessly eager nipple hardened at his touch, sending an agonizing stab of desire all the way to her toes and back up to lodge in her most intimate place. She jerked away, embarrassed by the intensity of her body's response to his trespass.
"No!" she cried again and bolted. She got as far as the bank before she heard his deep, rumbling laugh. She whirled in surprise.
"I will catch you, Pale As Moonlight, " he called to her, the devil's own smile on his face. "And then I will make you my woman. "
Pale as-- "W-- What?"
"But we can play eagle and mouse if it is what you want. " His eyes challenged her to either come to him or run like the wind.
Panic flooded her as she realized she had little hope of escape. She swallowed. What would it be like to lie beneath this savage stranger, to open herself and accept his body into hers? Terrified of the answer, she turned and flew across the meadow.
He gave her a head start, but was never far behind. She could hear his quiet footfalls, his steady breathing, the rustle of dry leaves beneath his moccasins.
"You're making a big mistake, " she panted. "They won't allow this to go unpunished. They'll send the cavalry to hunt you down. "
She ran and ran, darted around the trees and bushes, trying her best to elude him. But he was always there, closing the gap between them, slowly but surely. Effortlessly.
It was useless. She felt his hands grasp her around the waist, hauling her to a stop. Winded, she grabbed for the knife at his hip. He easily brushed her off. She squealed a protest when he hoisted her like a sack of feed over his broad shoulder. Oh, Lord. Images of what would happen to her flashed through her mind, galvanizing her resistance.
He carried her like so much kindling, despite her kicking and screaming.
"Quiet, " he admonished. "The others will hear you. "
"Good!" She yelled at the top of her lungs, "Heeelllllp!" beating his back with her fists.
"They'll want their turn. "
She clamped her mouth shut.
How could she have been so foolish? Of course he wouldn't be alone. A war party, Ernie had said.
He walked back to the meadow with her, and whisked the blanket off his horse, tossing it on the ground and her on top of it.
She peered up at him, frightened. "You'd let them?"
"I'd kill them first, " he said calmly.
He swiftly straddled her, gripping her hips between his knees, and stuck his knife into the ground beside the blanket. He unwound the thin sweetgrass rope from around his shoulder, wrapped the middle of it's generous length a couple of times around the trunk of a sapling at the head
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