Read Wind Warrior (Historical Romance) Online

Authors: Constance O'Banyon

Tags: #Historical, #Romance, #Fiction, #19th Century, #American West, #Native Americans, #Indian, #Western, #Adult, #Multicultural, #Adventure, #Action, #WIND WARRIOR, #Savior, #Blackfoot Tribe, #Brother, #Hatred & Envy, #Captive, #Plot, #Steal, #Brother Rivalry, #Prophecy, #Rescue, #Great Passion, #Suspense, #Danger

Wind Warrior (Historical Romance) (17 page)

Chapter Twenty-six

It was hard to believe a man of such power and strength could be so gentle. Wind Warrior’s hand stroked down her neck and he nuzzled the hollow there.

Quivering, Rain Song turned her head, her mouth brushing against his. For a moment they both froze as unbridled passion ripped through them at the unexpected contact.

Again she tested the move that had sent shivers through them both. Wind Warrior could not breathe as she brushed her mouth across his.

He moaned, his body shook.

She cried out passionately.

His breath hissed through his teeth.

She was taken by surprise when he gripped her shoulders, taking command of the kiss. Her mouth quivered beneath his as he explored this new territory. He had not known the mouth could be so sensual. Just the feel of her mouth, her breath teasing his lips, made him want more.

Wind Warrior stilled, trying to catch his breath. His need for her was driving him out of his mind. “Do you want me to stop?” he asked, hoping she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

Breathlessly, she touched his face. “I belong to you.”

He took a deep swallow. “Not yet.”

He nudged her doeskin gown aside and buried his face in the cleavage of her breasts. Needing her was the worst pain he had ever experienced. She surprised him when her fingers tangled in his hair and she held him closer.

“I want…to belong to you. I want you.”

Wind Warrior did not need to be asked twice. Moving back, he pulled her to a sitting position and lifted her gown over her head. His gaze moved from her slender neck down over her firm young breasts. He groaned when he saw the pink nipples and bent forward, touching his mouth to one tempting bud.

Rain Song jerked, her eyes widening.

He raised his head, exhaling shakily. “Did I hurt you?”

“No.” The cry was torn from her throat.

He understood better than she did what she needed. “Come to me,” he said, holding his arms out. “You will receive me into your body and we will be one,” he said huskily.

She was trembling so hard, she could not stop. Her gaze followed him as he stood, stripping down to his breechcloth. When he came down beside her, he took her in his arms and she melted against him. Her gaze sought his, and there were questions in her eyes.

“What must I do?”

The catch in her voice and Rain Song’s innocent question were almost Wind Warrior’s undoing. He had been born for this night. No matter what he accomplished
in his life, nothing would be more important than this moment.

Realizing how innocent she was, he had to hold back his own passion and introduce her gently to the bond that would make her his woman in deed as well as word.

Wind Warrior knelt before her, and his gaze moved down her breasts to her stomach. He placed his hand on her hips as his gaze moved lower, and what he saw sent tremors through his body; he had never imagined that the hair between her thighs would be the same color as the hair on her golden head.

Rain Song’s silken body was the most beautiful sight he had ever beheld. So deep was his need for her, he fought the overwhelming urge to pull her beneath him and drive into the sweetness of her body.

“I will teach you,” he said in a choked voice that he did not recognize as his own.

Her simple nod went straight to his heart.

Had any man ever loved a woman as much as he loved her?

She filled his life and gave purpose and meaning to his world. She made him think of the future, of sons and daughters—of growing old beside her. He wanted to give her everything she wanted in life, and he wanted to take from her only what she would give him.

Gently, Wind Warrior pulled her to him, absorbing the quakes that shook her virginal body. “You were created for me,” he whispered, his tongue darting to the lobe of her ear. “Even though your world was far from mine, we found a way to be together.”

Rain Song’s arms slid around his shoulders and
she pressed her breasts against his bare chest. The moan that escaped her lips stirred his blood even more.

She reached for his hand and raised it to her lips. Her gesture made him pause to think, to harness his passion and look to her pleasure.

Wind Warrior eased her onto her back, and lay beside her. His hand trailed over her breasts, down her stomach to her thighs. With gentle pressure he pushed her thighs apart, gently caressing her until she was mindless, desperately needing something to fill the emptiness inside her.

As if he knew what she was feeling, he gently eased his finger inside her warmth. Circling, nudging, withdrawing, and plunging forward again. He touched the barrier that proclaimed no other man had touched her.

She was whimpering, and moving restlessly, and he could wait no longer.

As he pressed his mouth against hers, it seemed they both gasped for breath at the same time. His feelings were so strong he could not give them voice; he did not even try.

He nuzzled her breasts, taking each into his hot mouth and suckling, all the while nudging her thighs apart.

“Ohhh,” she murmured.

He nuzzled her face, wanting all of her. He watched her eyes widen with uncertainty, then close in pure ecstasy when he blew against her mouth.

Removing his breechcloth, he tossed it aside, watching her stare at his nakedness. He could read
the confusion in her eyes, and then the understanding of how they would be joined together.

Slowly, Wind Warrior eased himself inside her. She was hot, wet. “You are ready for me,” he whispered in a rugged voice.

He was past ready for her.

Rain Song watched his eyes, wondering what would happen next. Already he had made her body come alive as she had never expected, but she was sure there was more.

She could hear him breathing hard, and when he eased farther inside her, she gasped. Then forcefully he drove deeper and she arched her back, trying to throw him off. She had not expected pain.

“My soul, the pain is all but over,” Wind Warrior said in a deep voice that grew even deeper when he said, “Look at me. I want to see everything you feel.”

She stared into tender brown eyes, and knew if she lived a hundred years, she would never be able to recapture this moment.

And then the pleasure hit.

As Wind Warrior thrust deeper, her hips bucked and she gasped. He slid out and then in again, finding the spot that made her go still. Then her hips came off the robe, twisting and turning as she tried to ease the ache inside her.

Throwing her head back, she bit her lips while he set a rhythm that thrilled her to the core. She slammed her lower body upward against his and saw his passion-dark eyes widen. She was inexperienced,
but instinct guided her in the way to give him the greatest pleasure.

Wind Warrior attempted to go slow, to be gentle with Rain Song but never had a woman stirred his blood so. He knew he should carefully guide her through her first time, but the softness of her skin and the sweetness of her body broke his resolve. Although his woman was innocent, it seemed at times she was guiding him.

Her body quaked and she dug her fingernails into his muscled back. Groaning, she buried her fingers into his black hair, holding his face to hers while she ran her tongue over his lips.

That simple action set him on fire and his body quivered and shook in release. He fell forward, crushing her beneath his weight.

For a long moment neither spoke.

She was shy after what had passed between them.

He could not catch his breath.

Rain Song held him close, loving the feel of his naked body pressed against her.

At last she said shyly, “I did not expect what happened.”

He levered himself off her and turned to his side; unwilling to move away from her, he held her close. “It took me by surprise too.” His hand moved down her back to clasp her tighter. “My life—that is what you are to me.”

“Do you look at love the same way I do?” Rain Song asked innocently, not knowing how to put a name to what had happened to her. Before, she had wanted him as a young girl wants the attentions of a
handsome man; now she felt she was a part of him, and love for him burst through her mind.

He rose on his elbow, smiling down at her. “What way is that?”

She frowned. “I cannot imagine how I lived before this night. I always thought you were handsome.” She smiled at him. “You know all the maidens in our village looked at you with…yearning.”

“Did they?”

“Yes.”

“I never saw them. My eyes were always on you.”

She nestled her head against his shoulder and he drew her to him. He touched her intimately. “Are you sore?”

She shook her head, hoping he was going to make love to her again. “No. I am not.”

He took her hand and placed it on him, and her eyes widened. “Already I want you.”

She turned to her back and pulled him toward her.

Wind Warrior laughed delightedly. She filled him with joy, and he wanted to do the same for her.

Although he knew he should take her carefully, her movements, her reaction to him, heated his blood.

He was not gentle as he drove into her, and she was not gentle when she clawed his back. This time, she reached ecstasy along with him.

In the aftermath, they both lay with hearts thundering, gasping for breath. Their fingers intertwined and she nestled close to him.

Long after Rain Song had fallen asleep, Wind Warrior lay thinking. Their fingers were still entwined and he raised them toward the campfire, where the
light fell on them—his hand was bronze, hers was white. He touched her golden hair and allowed it to sift through his fingers. Her hair was golden, his was black.

And yet none of that mattered. The two of them had reached across the divide separating the Indian and the white world, finding something so rare he dared not speak of it for fear it was but a dream and he would awake to find it gone.

“Sweet one,” he whispered, touching his mouth to her brow. “How you torture me.” He saw her eyes open.

“I do not mean…I never expected—” She shook her head. “What did I do?”

Wind Warrior smiled. “You made me want you more than anything I have ever wanted in my life.”

“Oh,” she said. “I thought I had done something wrong.”

Laughing softly, he shook his head. “You do everything right, sweet one. I hope I can survive the night.”

Brushing his mouth against hers, he trembled and so did she.

“I never dreamed I would be here with you like this,” she admitted.

“I have.”

She heard the quaver in his voice and touched his face. “I want to make you happy.”

His eyes drifted shut. No one had ever said that to him before. His woman was a rare jewel, and he would treasure her all the days of their lives.

Chapter Twenty-seven

Wind Warrior felt something soft brush against his face. Becoming immediately alert, he opened his eyes and then, remembering the night before, smiled. A lock of Rain Song’s hair had fallen across his face, and she was curled up in his arms.

Turning his head, he studied his sleeping woman. Long lashes rested against the pale cheeks of the most beautiful woman he had ever known, and she was his.

He could not help himself; he had to gather her close. She had just given him a night he would never forget. In her sleep, she sighed and snuggled closer to him.

Staring at the ceiling of the cave, he said a silent prayer of thanks to the Great One for giving him such a woman.

He felt himself swell, and he wanted her. But she was not yet accustomed to his demands, and he must not give in to his deepest urges. Touching his mouth to her brow, he gently untangled her from his body. When he pulled the fur robe aside, the sight of her beautifully curved body almost caused him to change his mind.

Taking a steadying breath, he covered her with the
fur and rose. Quickly dressing, he shoved his knife in the sheath and walked out into the cool morning air. The sun had not made its appearance for the day, but the eastern sky was painted with a pink glow. It was quiet—as if the earth had taken a breath and was waiting for the sun’s appearance.

The wind touched him, whispering against his skin. Raising his arms, he allowed the essence of the coming day to fill his whole being.

Today he was completely happy.

Hearing movement behind him, Wind Warrior looked over his shoulder at his woman. She came up behind him, sliding her arms around his waist, pressing her face against his back.

“How do you feel this morning?” he asked.

“Like I belong to you.”

Wind Warrior pulled her around in front of him. “And so you do.”

Clasping her to him, he rested his chin on top of her head. “It will rain today.” He nodded at the clouds gathering in the north. “But it will be only showers and we can still continue our journey.”

“How do you know it will rain?”

He smiled down at her. “Do not tell me you are one of those who believe I can see into the future.”

“I have heard you can.”

“If that were true, I would have known you would be here with me, and would not have suffered so many doubts when I asked you to become my woman.”

“But you said you prepared this cave for me?”

He placed his hands on both sides of her face, raising it and brushing her mouth with his. “I lived in hope.”

“Where do we go today, my husband?” she asked.

Wind Warrior moved away from her and reached into a leather bag to give her a handful of nuts and berries. “It will be colder where we are going. You should change into warmer clothing. From here on, we travel on foot and must release the horses. Do you feel up to it?”

Rain Song nodded. “I want to see the place you call home when you are in these mountains.”

He took her hand and led her back down the path. He made her a light pack, and himself the heavier one. Removing the blankets and bridles from the horses, he spoke to them, “Go home.”

To Rain Song’s surprise, the horses galloped down the hill and were soon lost from sight.

Wind Warrior turned to Rain Song, and when he saw her raised eyebrows, he merely smiled.

They had been climbing steadily for hours. Often Wind Warrior would stop and let Rain Song rest before resuming the climb. In some places there were paths leading upward, and other times they had to pick their way up steep inclines.

Just when Rain Song thought they would never reach their destination, Wind Warrior took her hand and led her up a rock-face cliff. What she saw took her breath away. One mountain rolled into another, and then another, as far as the eye could see. The sky was so blue, the fluffy white clouds seemed like chunks of cotton.

Her gaze feasted on the wondrous sight. “Some of the peaks look like pictures of cathedrals I have seen in one of Aunt Cora’s books.”

Wind Warrior looked at her with interest. “What is a…cathedral?”

“It is a place, a building where we worship God. Of course, I have never actually seen one. At Fort Benton we had a small chapel.”

Wind Warrior nodded in understanding. “Then your place of worship is similar to this place, where I seek the Great Spirit.”

Rain Song gazed into his eyes. “Wind Warrior, do you believe your Great Spirit and my God are the same?”

He looked pensive for a moment. “How could our Gods not be the same? There is only one Creator of man. It matters not where you worship him, or by what name he is called, he is God, the Creator of all living things.”

Her heart melted as she gazed into his soft brown eyes. “When you say it like that, I believe you.”

He took her hand and assisted her to the top of the mountain, where he slid his arms around her waist, holding her against his body. “There is much you can teach me about your people. I want to know who they are and where they came from.”

“And I want to learn what your connection is to these mountains. What were your thoughts when you were up here alone?”

His mouth curved into a smile. “Many of my thoughts were of you. I imagined you here with me, like this. I was sure in my heart you would love this place as much as I do.”

She was filled with joy. Had he really thought of her? “It is so beautiful, it takes my breath away.”

“There is a curious quality about in this place that might please you.”

“Show me.”

“Stand right here, and speak as loudly as you are able.”

She looked puzzled.

“Go ahead,” he urged. “Call out a greeting to the mountains and they will answer you.”

She nodded, wetting her lips and wrinkling her brow in seriousness. “Hello…hello…hello…hello…hello.”

Her eyes widened. “Is that an echo?”

“It is.”

Wind Warrior took her hand. “Let us continue. It is not far to our home.”

She laced her fingers through Wind Warrior’s, feeling so full of happiness she could not speak.

Wind Warrior’s mind was on other matters. He knew Dull Knife would have heard the echo, but the reverberating sounds were deceptive. Although his brother was one of the tribe’s best trackers, he would not have been able to discern from which direction the sound came.

Although he was pushing Rain Song hard so she would be safe, she did not complain. At the end of the day, he noticed the tired lines under her eyes and decided to stop early.

As the sun went down, Rain Song fell upon her robe, exhausted. She was so weary she fell asleep with the uneaten meat still clutched in her hand.

Wind Warrior knelt beside her, taking the meat from her fist. Brushing a tress of hair from her face,
he was lost in wonder that such a marvelous woman belonged to him. “Rest, my soul,” he murmured, lowering his head to brush his mouth against her forehead.

Tonight he would be on guard, for Dull Knife must know this would be his last chance to track them. Tomorrow they would be walking on stone and leaving no footprints.

Chinook came up to him and dropped down beside him. He rubbed her furry coat and then pointed to Rain Song. “Chinook, lie beside her. Guard her with your life.”

The wolf rose and trotted toward Rain Song, then dropped down to curl up beside her.

Wind Warrior walked a little way back down the incline, ever watchful. He heard an owl on the wing, searching for some night creature to feed on. He heard the wind whispering against his ears.

Glancing across the darkened woods below, he saw a small flicker of light. Dull Knife was no more than an hour behind. But if he had built a campfire, he was resting for the night. And after tomorrow, Rain Song would be safe from pursuit.

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