Savage Conquest Page 2

  She distinctly remembered something her sister’s husband had once told her, about how animals could smell fear. Her back against the wall, she felt fear, but, she thought, perhaps if she lied through her teeth . . . . “I do not fear you. On the contrary, I feel sorry for you savages for being unable to help acting like animals.”

  “I feel sorry for all men who have to listen to your wagging tongue! Perhaps you would be a better coup if I relieved you of it.”

  She glared at him icily. “Dare what you please, heathen, but remember that you will dearly pay for any harm you visit on my person!”

  He laughed, taking his knife from the rawhide at his waist, fingering the edge of the blade as it gleamed in the firelight before gripping it tightly by its handle. Surprise flickered through him when he studied her to gauge her reaction. He could see that producing his knife had had little effect on the fiery one. If anything, she appeared more defiant than before. This white woman would not be so easy to tame, he realized ruefully. Realizing he had lost this battle of wills, grinning, he told her, because he knew she would try to flee the minute he turned his back, “I am leaving now. Do not think about escaping. What lays in wait for you in this land at night will make you wish the river had swallowed you.”

  As she watched, he stepped through the only entrance and exit of the teepee and vanished. After the opening had dropped back down into place, she let out a pent up breath followed by a long groan as she made the agonizingly slow crawl to the center of the teepee where the warmth of the fire beckoned.

  What on Earth should she do now? She had been sheltered her whole life. The education she had received as a lady of society had prepared her to be a suitable wife for a man someday, not for an eventuality like this. If she did manage to escape the teepee, to escape him, what were her chances of surviving out in the wild untamed West far from the protection of town? She did not even know where she was or how far away from town she was. It could be several days hard ride for all she knew. She could not let the fear of the unknown stop her, though, she told herself sternly and so, resolved to finding out where she was and to find a means of escaping, she inched over to the flap in the teepee where the Indian had just left. Cautiously, not knowing if perhaps he might be watching for her impending escape, she took a look outside of the teepee to discover what appeared to be a campground.

  Despite the fact that the dark of night shadowed a lot of her surroundings, she could distinguish a minimum of six more teepees. By all that’s holy, she swore mentally, she was in the midst of an Indian village! A knot of fear threatened to close her throat and suffocate her. She would never be able to escape unnoticed if she was surrounded by them!

  Gabrielle’s face was crestfallen as she looked at the circle of teepees in the darkness. On her hands and knees, she managed to crawl back to the comfort of the fire. When she had made it back to the buffalo rug pallet, she balled up into a fetal position in an effort to garner some warmth and perhaps to make herself feel more secure.

  For some time, she lay perfectly still, trying desperately to find some understanding of what was happening. The last thing she thought about before she let sleep take her was that the likelihood of her surviving the night was not very good with a Wolf that would come back for her at any time.

  Running Wolf sighed in frustration. What had made the crazy white woman in his teepee think that he would pursue or find solace with her body? Had she somehow read him? Had his desire for her been written on his face? Alarmed at the disturbing, unbidden idea of wanting to lay with his captive, he angrily clenched his fist. If all of the white women were at all like his fiery one, how was it that the white men were still alive? But what was bothering him more than that was the reason he had taken her.

  He tried to convince himself he had taken her to count coup, but getting close to her, touching her, he knew it had been an entirely different reason. It was because he wanted her, had not stopped thinking about her since he had seen her, knew without a doubt that he had been drawn to her cloud of red hair and her white-skinned beauty. His breath caught in his throat as he remembered running his fingers through the locks of her fiery red hair. His throat constricted painfully and he swallowed hard against the feelings of desire welling up in him. He could not want this woman. It would only bring him trouble. He knew he would have to harden his mind and spirit to the white woman who seemed to draw him like a moth to the flame.

  Tired of pacing, Running Wolf settled beneath a tree, leaned back against the trunk, and closed his eyes, working hard at forcing himself to sleep. But, no matter how hard he tried, his mind would not rest. It was filled with images of red hair caressing the white woman’s naked body. He recalled how it had felt when his fingers had sifted through the waves of her hair. As he lay there, he thought he could almost smell the sweet scent of flowers that seemed to linger on her soft skin. There was something about this woman that would not let his mind and body rest. Could it have been her defiant brown eyes? Could it have been the way she set her chin so stubbornly even as it shook with fear? Perhaps it was the way her body had writhed beneath his. Or perhaps it was all of those things. Whatever the reason, sudden white hot flames sparked to life deep in his loins.

  Groaning with renewed frustration, he tried to ignore his discomfort, concentrating instead on the dilemma at hand. He needed to make a decision about what to do with the woman in his teepee. He briefly contemplated offering her up to another warrior in the village until he remembered the awe and naiveté in her eyes when he had found her watching him as he had dressed. This woman had never known a man’s touch, until his. A feeling of possessiveness came over him at the thought and anger as he considered that the other warriors would ravage the fiery one’s soft body without considering her discomfort or pleasure. After weighing his options, he fell asleep for a few restless hours. Waking up long before dawn, he headed to his teepee, having made his decision. He could not bear the thought of another with his fiery captive. He would keep her for himself. When he reached his teepee he paused, bracing himself for another fight with his captive before lowering his head to go inside.

  Coiled in a ball by the smoldering embers of the fire, Gabrielle was tense with apprehension as she recognized the sound of footfalls coming closer and closer to where she lay huddled on the buffalo pallet. When she saw a large figure step close to her, she sprang out from beneath the buffalo blanket and jumped onto it.

  When Running Wolf felt the fiery one jump on his back, he twisted, raised his arms, and grabbed for his attacker.

  Fearing for her life, panicking because the situation was not going at all like she had planned, Gabrielle clawed feebly at his bare chest like a wild cat as she tried to maintain her perch on his back, but she was much too weak to hang on for long.

  Running Wolf clamped a hand around one of her wrists like a vice and pulled her off his back. “Is my fiery one really this brave? Did you plan to make coup with me by taking my scalp?” he asked, chuckling.

  Gabrielle peered up at him, but his features were nearly obscure in the darkness of the predawn hour. She was so concentrated on trying to discern if he was the Indian from the night before, it did not register in her mind that he was moving closer until he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her roughly against him.

  “Wolf?” she asked tremulously.

  “Yes, my fiery one,” he answered huskily.

  “My name is not fiery one. It is Gabrielle Lancaster.”

  A fiery coil of desire unfurled deep within Wolf’s stomach, lashing out at his senses. Struck by a desire far more powerful than logic, he disregarded all reason and claimed her provocative mouth with his own. He found, much to his pleasure, that it was soft, lush even, he realized, astonished to discover that this fiery white woman’s lips were ripe, full, and, though it was beyond all belief, they were intoxicating.

  Expecting at any moment to be rebuffed, Wolf forged on, indulging his curiosity. Without even realizing it, he ignited a dangerous inner passion. But
his situation was much worse than that because he was not sure if he would have the strength to suppress it. All the while his fiery captive remained compliant, began to moan, the sound deep and throaty as she basked in the onslaught of his kisses.

  Wolf broke away from her so that he could lean back and look at her. “I think you are a wise woman to tremble at my touch,” he admitted, knowing that his grasp on control had begun to unravel. He would have to stop what he was doing. He would have put some distance between them, and he mentally assured himself that he would—after one more taste.

  Gabrielle struggled hard to comprehend what was transpiring between her and her captor. Her entire body appeared to have been set on fire, and the flames seemed to start at her mouth and work their way all over her body. Remarkable, yet alarming, sensations pulsed inside of her, tempting new and foreign feelings to emerge from what seemed like everywhere all at once.

  Initially startled by the near brutal force of his kiss, it was not long before passion arose inside of her. Her senses were alive with a new cognizance which galvanized in her a curiosity and a tremendous need, enticing her with a siren’s call from deep within her core. Her hands moved with a will all their own, exploring the contours of his muscular shoulders, following the hard length of his spine, massaging the softer tissues that protected his ribs.

  Through the haze of his desire, Wolf thought about what his captive had said, thought about her stubborn will and knew he needed to tame it. He stopped kissing her, pulling away slightly to better gauge her reaction to his next words. “I think I should teach you a lesson by throwing you outside. There are many warriors in this village that would be all too happy to do much more than threaten you as I do!”

  Gabrielle went perfectly still, her mouth agape for a moment with shock. “You would not dare do something as vile as that!”

  He traded her bold stare with a cold one of his own. Somehow it stirred his blood like the way it did when he was counting coups with a quick strike and then turning, eagerly provoking an enemy that was still within killing range. Although he had threatened her with punishment, he saw there was no fear in her eyes. He had also noticed there had been no aversion there when he had touched her.

  “Are you so sure? Perhaps I should dare a lot more. I think you have been a maiden for far too long, fiery one.” With one hand firmly manacled about her arm, he reached up with the other and gently caressed her cheek with the backs of his fingertips. “I believe that a night spent in the arms of a Sioux warrior will do wonders to soften that sharp tongue of yours.”

  It occurred to her to wonder how serious his intentions were. She did not know him. He might well be just trying to keep her in line. But she could not help but feel equally outraged and curious when she thought about a union between them. Gabrielle’s voice was weak when she next spoke. She did not know whether it was from fear or excitement, but she tried not to analyze the feeling too much. “Thank you for the invitation, but no. I would prefer it if you would just leave me alone.”

  “You know that is not what you want. I can tell by the look in your eyes, by the way your mouth quivers as you imagine the heat of my lips pressed hard against yours. You know it better than I do by how you feel down here,” he said as he slid his hand down the valley of her breasts, down further to stroke her flat stomach, continuing down but stopping before he reached her woman’s place.

  She gasped at the feeling of his hot hand caressing her body. “That is not true!” she said indignantly. “Now, stop this at once!”

  Wolf’s laugh at her reaction was loud and hearty.

  It made her blush crimson with mortification.

  As he looked down at her, he said, “Let me help you to understand what it is to be a true woman.”

  Gabrielle pushed ineffectually at his large hands but her efforts were no use as he caught her by the hips and dragged her to the ground and beneath him. Realizing his intentions, she thought to beg him for leniency, for mercy, but when she opened her mouth and her lips parted, it merely provided the access he needed for his tongue, and he took it as he sought to explore and conquer her mouth.

  Suddenly, his strong hands seemed to be everywhere at once, equally punishing and rewarding. His fingers felt like liquid heat as he tugged at one of her breasts before kneading it, caressing the nipple. The digits on his other hand, also etched in flames, singed her sensitive skin as they traveled to the apex of her thighs. She was overwhelmed by the surge of desire that his touch ignited in her.

  Wolf’s knowledgeable fingers probed her body, creating small fires everywhere they made contact with her skin as he demanded entrance to her uncharted womanhood.

  Gabrielle writhed beneath him, softly moaning with a mixture of both surprise and pleasure as his touch opened the flood gates of raging desire. She was nothing but raw, needy flesh that demanded fulfillment as she became engulfed for the very first time with the needs of a mature woman. She was frantic to attain something unknown to her, desperate to alleviate the pressure that was building inside of her that was tormenting her. Instinctively she ran her hands down along Wolf’s hips then beneath his breech clout to cover his naked bottom. Once there she allowed her roving fingers to dig into the hard flesh. She ground her hips against his, completely overcome by her own bold desires and the dark forbidden thoughts running through her mind.

  “Oh!” she gasped in pleasure as she ground herself against him, luxuriating in the feel of his hard flesh against hers. Her self-control was completely gone, and she was nigh incapable of speech. “Wolf, please,” she begged, “I do not know what is happening. Something is . . . .” Her body raced higher and higher, beyond her ability to stop its unforeseen response. She made another feeble endeavor to understand what was going on. “Wolf, what is happening inside of me?”

  Wolf knew all too well what was happening to his fiery one, and it only served to strengthen his own need which threatened to disintegrate the remainder of his tentative hold on his control.

  The combination of her writhing beneath him, her moans of pleasure, her red hair loose and disheveled, impassioned him beyond all sanity. He rolled on top of her before spreading her thighs with one knee. Lowering himself to her woman’s place, he drove easily into her, aided by her juices, drove past the thin barrier he encountered there until he reached her core. Once there he had to battle the primeval instinct to thrust into her with wild abandon. It took all of his strength, but he forced himself to remain still, forced himself to wait for the pain he knew she was feeling to diminish, forced himself to wait for her tight sheath to relax around his girth.

  “Wolf,” she said on a sigh, her entire being languid with pleasure.

  “You are my woman now,” he whispered in her ear, a distinct feeling of possessiveness taking over him again as he gazed down at her.

  Gabrielle tested their strange new union by slowly pressing up against him and then letting her bottom fall back down to the buffalo fur. The sensations the movement elicited whetted her appetite for more. Testing her newfound skills awkwardly, she pushed up to grind her hips against him again.

  But when she came up this time, Wolf filled his strong hands with her bottom.

  All of her senses were saturated with Wolf, every single nerve ending begged for the slightest attention from him.

  He sank into her depths again, even though he felt as if he would perish from the clench of her muscles and the moans that his thrusts ripped from her throat. He set a fast pace, his groin throbbing with an intense pleasure that bordered on pain as he hammered into her, filling her with the length and breadth of his cock.

  Gabrielle thought for sure that he had stretched her to her limits, that at any moment he would tear asunder her flesh. It was unbelievable how large his cock was, unbelievable how the bulbous tip sent tingles of electric pleasure through her entire body. Her womb contracted almost painfully as he continued to plunge into her, pleasure ripping through her in tremulous waves.

  It took all the strength Gabrie
lle possessed to keep from collapsing as he thrust forcefully into her. Her core was alight with fire, pleasure and pain intermingling in a heady mix that intoxicated her and left her weak with arousal. A proper woman would not want this licentious intrusion. A proper woman would not grind against his hips. But she could not help herself, could not stop herself from doing it as she strove hard to find something that was eluding her.

  The sensation became stronger as he delved deep inside of her, as he increased his rhythm until her entire body shook from his powerful invasion. He appeared to have lost sight of everything except for the steady movement.

  The sensation she had been feeling became stronger as it undulated along her every fiber of her being. She was desperately climbing for it, reaching, stretching to attain this unknown something as it crept into the bud hidden in her folds and the clench of muscles in her femininity.

  Pleasure mounted, amplifying from its fragile beginnings into a force that threatened to explode within her, threatened to destroy her sanity if she could not reach it.

  He impaled her on his molten rod as he stroked her channel. He made her blood boil and scalded her flesh with his touch as he continued to ram into her, grinding against her swollen bud with each thrust until all her attention was focused on it.

  The feelings that swept over her overwhelmed her, tearing through her muscles, disintegrating flesh and bone. Gabrielle screamed and jerked against him as her orgasm tore through her in a tidal wave that liquefied her, melted her down until she could not tell where she began and he ended. She clung to him, desperate to hold on to the pleasure, tightening her hold until she could no longer feel anything except the ecstasy swirling inside of her.

  He moaned low in his throat, arching his hips and throwing his head back as he raised up on his arms, thrusting into her again, his movements disjointed, hurried. His cock throbbed inside her as his seed erupted, spilling deep within her womb.