Brazen Ecstasy Page 2

  Her brazen hand drifted down his lean side, over his narrow waist to briefly hesitate on his firm buttocks whose masterful skills could drive his manhood into her and grant such blissful ecstasy. One finger traced the length of the shaft that intoxicated her senses and that instinctively responded to her light and stimulating touch. Her hand gently closed around his erect manhood, and, with agonizing sweetness, leisurely and rhythmically moved up and down its full length, causing his virile body to tense and shudder, drawing a low moan of passion from his wide and sensual lips. Confident in her love and talents upon his mats, she smiled wantonly and vowed, “For training me how to please you… for teaching my body to greedily accept yours whenever you’re near me… for being the one man who stirs my heart and soul to desire no other… for giving me pleasures I never dreamed possible… I love you with all my heart, Wanmdi Hota. For as long as I live and breathe, I will belong to only you.”

  Gray Eagle’s mouth closed over hers in a hungry and tantalizing kiss. He tasted the sweetness that was freely offered to him, demanding more and more of its precious nectar. Soon there was no inch upon her face that did not tingle from a fiery kiss. As if blazing a new trail into paradise, his lips began their seeking trek down her throat to wander from one passion-taut breast to the other, discovering the delightful treasures of her pliant body and heated response.

  His moist tongue circled and circled each nipple as a voracious vulture over a recent kill, patiently awaiting the right moment to devour his object of interest. Suddenly deciding to land upon the right one, he sucked hungrily as if drawing life-sustaining fluid from it, only to move to the left one and repeat this intoxicating action, which caused her head to roll from side to side as a wildfire raged within her body.

  She didn’t know how long he feasted upon her body before his lips sought sweetness from her mouth. His hand slipped over her flat stomach and drifted down into her auburn forest. His actions became a journey for a new quest of exquisite pleasure, seeking out each path and mound and cave there. Mindless with overwhelming need for him, her body arched and moved to assist his deliberate search for sublime ecstasy. Enticingly and purposely, his advance party of skilled fingers probed and prepared the way for his triumphant journey’s end.

  Shalee’s hand stimulated the leader of this exploratory expedition, urging him to join the busy members of his search party. The feel of his throbbing, fiery manhood within her hand thrilled and intrigued her, knowing the ultimate job it would perform within her writhing body, wondering when he would loosen its powerful force to do it. When her starving body could no longer withstand its callings for appeasement, she coaxed him to complete his intoxicating quest.

  He entered her gently, but the height of their shared passion demanded a fierce and immediate union. The previously slow and tender strokes became strong and swift as their bodies pounded together, almost savagely demanding their brazen ecstasy to come forth instantly. As if ascending the hazardous peaks of the Black Hills, they bravely and vigorously climbed higher and higher to reach their goal.

  As if all the snows upon those mountains had melted at once, wave after wave of pleasure washed over them, carrying them along with its potent force. To prevent her outcry of sated passion from awakening their son at this vital moment, his mouth captured hers and ravished it with a heady kiss which seemingly had no beginning or ending. Determined to obtain every treasure of this journey, he worked until every spasm ceased and total fulfillment was their reward.

  Drained and breathless, he rolled to his side to avoid placing his entire weight upon Shalee, pulling her along with him. No matter how rushed he was, he never released her before a long time had passed. After sharing such a moment, a too hasty retreat could spoil it. The touching before and after were important; the shared closeness and warmth added to the precious union as their bodies gradually cooled.

  Such love and tenderness had never gone unnoticed by Shalee. Her heart surged with love as she snuggled into his protective embrace, savoring the disappearance of a fierce hunger that was now quieted and sated. This lingering at her side during the peaceful aftermath inspired a greater love and need for him. She felt as safe and excited as a new butterfly resting in a warm cocoon after a stormy metamorphosis. During the heat of their desperate struggle to quell their starving senses, only passion ruled their bodies. Before their union, overpowering desire controlled their reasoning. But afterwards, that was the time for love and tenderness to be shared and enjoyed. Sated bodies and love-swollen hearts reached out to touch and to claim the rewards of their preceding trek.

  “Do you know how much I love you?” she asked softly, turning her auburn head to meet his tender gaze.

  He caressed her cheek and murmured with vivid self-assurance, “Yes, Grass Eyes, I know. No two bodies or hearts are as wisely matched as ours. The Great Spirit surely knows and sees all, for He sent to me the only woman who could ever give me such joy and pleasure. Sometimes I think He rewarded my coups and obedience far more than I deserved.”

  “Never. I am the lucky one, the honored one, that He allowed me to win your love. Even as your white captive, I would be happy beyond my wildest dreams. I refuse to even think what my life would be like if I had never met you.

  “The Great Spirit guided you to me, Little One. He called your feet from across the great waters and over the lands to rest at my side and to enter my sacred life-circle. If this were not so, the forces of evil would have torn us apart many winters ago.”

  When she pulled her haunting gaze from his to stare unseeingly at his broad chest, he astutely knew to where her thoughts had flown. “We endured many pains and separations in past moons, Grass Eyes, but never again. Have we not shared five peaceful winters of love and happiness?” he said, gently scolding her for retreating to times long past when they had tragically resisted this powerful and fated bond between them.

  Meeting his gaze, she spoke softly with a strained voice, “It was not the past that cast a shadow over my heart and eyes, Wanmdi Hota. Sometimes I fear we are too happy and too much in love. I fear something or someone will cruelly tear us apart, out of jealousy or for cruel spite. My very soul trembles each time I hear of new whites and their hatred toward us. Their evil victory would be half won with the death of Wanmdi Hota himself; they know this, my love. I fear their hatred of you and their vindictive resolve to defeat the legendary Gray Eagle. Each time you leave camp, I nearly hold my breath until you return. Each time I make love to you, I fear it will be the last. I could not live without you,” she cried out as her mounting anguish and apprehensions poured forth.

  He held her tightly and rocked her like a small child who desperately needed comfort. “The words of the Cheyenne caused such feelings,” he concluded aloud. “I should not have told you their childish fears. The white-eyes have never defeated me; they never will, Grass Eyes. The Great Spirit guards my life and honor; He will not permit my enemies to slay me. He has placed the safety of our people, our Indian brothers, and our lands within my hands. His shadow falls over me in battle; I cannot be slain by white dogs who steal our lands and bring their evil here. Do you doubt my courage and honor?” he questioned, knowing she did not, knowing it was a woman’s way to fear for the man she loved above her own life.

  “If there was only one man in the world who could not be conquered, it would be you, my love. Yet, each man must join the Great Spirit when He calls to him. Does any warrior know when that voice will speak to him?”

  He laughed and replied confidently, “It will be many, many winters before the Great Spirit calls the name of Wanmdi Hota. Until our son is old enough and skilled enough to take my place, I will remain here to lead and protect our people. No man will ever take you from my side and no enemy’s weapon will take me from yours.”

  “But what of other powerful forces, those beyond yours or the Great Spirit’s control? Look how the whites flood our lands. Do you not see there is evil as well as good?” she argued his logic.

  “Each
time, have I not conquered the evil? Each time, have I not been stronger and more cunning? Even the mighty white fort could not withstand my strength or keep you from my side. Each time I have faced danger and defeated it. Until Bright Arrow takes my place, it will also be this way.”

  There was no hint of idle boasting or arrogance in his mind or voice. True, there was no warrior who could challenge him and win. True, he had always been victorious over all forces. But the time came when even great men fell beneath the joint forces of many enemies who were determined to defeat him. Gray Eagle’s power could not be ignored or accepted by his white foes; they would press and press to defeat him, knowing the result of his death upon the Indians. He stood before them like an immovable oak tree; they wouldn’t rest until they discovered some way to destroy the legend that inspired more daring and spirit than those of all other warriors combined. Perhaps if he were only a regular warrior… no, if he were, he would not be the man who had claimed her heart and life.

  She smiled. “You are right as always, my husband. What have I to fear when I live under the wing of Gray Eagle himself? Perhaps one day I will become as brave as you, my love. Until then, you will have to be brave enough for both of us,” she teased, eyes dancing with love and mischief.

  “You are as brave as I am, Shalee. Many times you have proven your great courage and cunning. Gray Eagle chose his woman wisely. You are as gentle as the newborn fawn, as cunning as the fox, as brave as the great bear, as playful as the otter, as mischievous as the raccoon, as…”

  As he hesitated to think of another playful comparison, she quickly injected, “And frequently as annoying as the buck who is smart enough to outwit the great hunter Wanmdi Hota?”

  “When has any buck denied my arrow’s finding its mark?” he jested.

  “Just last moon, you said they were hiding from your keen sight,” she playfully reminded him.

  “Only because spring calls them back to the forests. Soon, we must follow them and hunt the buffalo. Before you number twenty-six, we will be camped in our summer village near the great river where Wi awakens.”

  Excitement and eagerness filled her. “I can hardly wait.”

  “There will be much work to be done, wife. You will be too weary to roll in the newborn grass with me,” he hinted slyly.

  “Never will I be that tired. Do you prepare me for excuses of your own?” she laughingly retorted, running her finger over his lips.

  “Excuses? I know no such word,” he parried her jest.

  “Yes, you do. I taught you all the English words you did not already know. Do you recall what ‘seduction’ means?”

  He eyed her curiously, grinning devilishly. “That is one I shall never forget. Why?” he probed, his eyes glowing with intrigue.

  “If you become so weary that you call upon some ‘excuse’ to discourage me, I shall teach you what it means, not just tell you,” she saucily warned.

  “With a threat like that, I shall certainly feign weariness and think of some ‘excuse’ to use,” he informed her. “So, you would ‘seduce’ your own husband if he fails to feed you properly?”

  “Not before warning you first,” she came back between giggles.

  “Is this my warning?” he asked, joining her game.

  “Your first and last, Noble Eagle of the Sioux. Still, it might be fun to…” Her words were cut off by the voice of their son as he rushed forward to topple between them.

  “Our son demands his share of our love and attention, Grass Eyes.”

  Amidst laughter and tickles, the three tussled and played upon the sleeping mat for another hour. The sport was ended when Bright Arrow looked at his mother and announced, “I’m hungry.”

  Gray Eagle and Shalee quickly exchanged amused glances, recalling only too well how their hungers had been sated. “Patience, Bright Arrow,” he gently reprimanded his growing son. Shalee smiled at him, then at her son before rising to fix their evening meal.

  Chapter Two

  It had been two uneventful weeks since the Cheyennes’ visit to the winter camp of the Oglala when they came again to discuss the new happenings near Fort Henry, spring lending the opportunity for dire events to begin. Shalee tensed the moment she saw them weaving their way between the conical abodes, heading straight for Chief Running Wolf’s tepee, the largest and most colorfully decorated one in the entire camp. She hesitated in midstep to observe them closely, her heart thudding heavily with dread. Why had they returned so soon? What heralds of gloom did they bring upon their tongues?

  Running Wolf stepped outside to greet them, confronting the stoic warriors on one of the warmest days since winter had begun. Several daring birds were singing their hearts out as if entreating Mother Nature to make her changes this very day. Audacious shoots of green could be noted in their fierce struggle to pierce the slowly thawing ground. Why did such dark forces shove their unwanted presence into this time of rebirths, spoiling its beauty and tranquility? Peace, must it carry such a heavy price?

  Running Wolf invited the warriors to enter his tepee, then turned to motion for the rigid Shalee to come forward. Propelled by the sheer power in his voice and gaze, Shalee hurried over to his side. He asked her to find Leah Winston and to send her to his tepee to prepare food and drink for his guests. She smiled and nodded to her father-in-law, a man who held her affection and respect. He ducked and entered his tepee, leaving Shalee poised there alone for a few moments in deep thought.

  Leah Winston… each time she spoke or worked with this particular girl who was the white slave of Running Wolf, strange qualms gnawed at her. Leah had been a gift to the aging Running Wolf from White Arrow, Gray Eagle’s lifelong companion and best friend. Leah was quiet and mysterious. She responded to commands with respect and quickness. She was alert, agile, and smart. Between her obedient attitude and intelligence, she had fared well since her capture last summer. Taken by White Arrow and given to Running Wolf, she had not been subjected to physical abuse or sexual degradation. Perceiving her good fortune, Leah had made certain she retained her lofty and safe position as slave to a wise and tolerant chief.

  But at the first moment of Leah’s arrival, Shalee witnessed the dismayed look of disappointment that briefly flickered in Leah’s eyes when she realized the virile and notable son of the chief already possessed his own tepee and a woman. In Leah’s disheveled and dirty state, the resemblance between the two women went unnoticed by all except Leah. There was just a slight shade of difference in their green eyes; their auburn hair matched tints perfectly. Yet Leah’s mussed and grimy locks concealed this similarity, as did Shalee’s natural vitality and freshly scrubbed waves. Both women were the same height and weight, though childbirth granted Shalee the more favorable bosom. If not for her days upon the open plains, Shalee’s skin would also match the creamy coloring of Leah’s. At a distance, and if they were dressed alike, Leah might be mistaken for Princess Shalee! But not on closer inspection. Shalee possessed more beauty, vivacity, and warmth than Leah did; that inner glow and gentleness were blatantly lacking in the reserved and calculating Leah.

  As Shalee’s mind reflected upon the ambiguous Leah, the truth suddenly dawned upon her. Why hadn’t she solved this puzzle sooner? The Oglala—especially Running Wolf, her small son, and Gray Eagle—were responding to the similarities between Leah and herself! Of course, that was why they casually accepted her presence! And that conniving and cunning Leah had recognized this point and was using it to her advantage. That explained her ready acceptance of her captivity, her friendly overtures to Bright Arrow, her sickly-sweet treatment of the aging chief, and her nonchalant truce with Gray Eagle himself! She was gradually and unsuspectingly edging her way into their confidence and friendship. To prepare for a future escape? To become an accepted member of their tribe? It was almost as if Leah was striving to become Princess Shalee!

  Alarm washed over Shalee and she curiously trembled, not from the chill in the spring air. It was more like some imperceptible warning tingled up and d
own her spine. How could a mere white captive hope to replace her? What evil mischief danced within Leah’s keen mind?

  Shalee walked to the stream where Leah was kneeling, washing clothes in the icy stream, her hands red and chapped from her frosty chore. She watched the white girl for a few moments. That same inexplicable and eerie feeling assailed her again. Only one other time had such a feeling ensnared her: the day when she had discovered Matu’s deception, the ruse that gave life to the lie that she was a half-breed Indian princess. If one could be grateful for the misfortunes in another’s life, Shalee was relieved that only Gray Eagle and White Arrow knew the truth about her—that she was not the daughter of Black Cloud and his white captive Jenny. Odd and frightening, she hadn’t thought of herself as white in over four years. Why did Leah stir up such perilous memories? What harm could this woman who resembled her cause?

  Without turning, Leah broke into her thoughts as she acknowledged Shalee’s presence. In a tone as crisp as the morning air, Shalee related Running Wolf’s orders and then turned to leave. Leah stood up and presumptuously called out, “Shalee.”

  Shalee halted and turned to face the woman. “Sha?”

  Knowing Shalee could speak English, Leah impetuously questioned her in that language. “Why do you so despise me, Shalee? You also carry white blood. Does it mean nothing to you?” Leah reeked of temerity and envy.

  Startled by her impertinent words and boldness, Shalee simply stared at her for a time. “My white blood makes me no less an Indian in heart or by choice than if I were born Indian, Leah,” she stated in a clear voice. “My love and loyalty lie with my people, the Oglala. I do not despise you. You are obedient and respectful; you work hard and well for Chief Running Wolf. He is waiting for you to serve his friends,” she remarked, dismissing the alarming subject and brassy girl.