Steal Me Away (3 page)

“No, no, please.” Her appeal meant nothing to him. He simply
stared at her.

She rolled to one side and put her hand to her derriere and
gave him an expression of pain. She wanted him to understand that she ached
from riding his damn mustang with only a blanket under her poor abused flesh.

He nodded, rolled her over anyway and put both his big hands
to her ass.

She gasped, wriggling away, but not getting very far.

He chuckled.

The cur.

She whirled to try to face him but the pain in her ankle
knifed through her.

He yelled at her. “Stop that!”

She froze. Stunned that he spoke to her like that, she got
hold of her tongue. If she angered him…

But she hadn’t.

He smiled, his deep-brown eyes crinkling in sympathy as he
pushed her fully to her stomach and kneaded her backside in the most
astonishingly frank and appealing manner.

She gulped. This intimacy was outrageous. But oh, the
feeling of his hands upon her aching ass had to be the most intoxicating
sensation since she’d drunk her father’s moonshine last Christmas. Her eyes
closed. Her blood raced. And her spirit soared. If she allowed him this, if she
could experience this delight at his touch, what else might he show her?

Astonished at her outrageous thoughts, she opened her eyes
wide.

If her exuberance was not appropriate, neither was her
anticipation that he might give her more.

More…what?

That swelling in my nether parts. That liquid that pooled
there this afternoon when he gazed at me as if I were a morsel to nibble. The
same kind of melting I experience whenever Wyatt or Cole MacRae spot me at
church or at the dry goods store and tip their hats and I wonder…

Could Collette be right? I might die a wishy-washy prude
who can’t enjoy my man. I’d hate that. Hate to take from a man and never give.
Hate to think any man I wanted between my legs wouldn’t want to give me
everything I might enjoy about loving him.

Sex, Collette had called it. She was the only one among the
three sisters who knew what that meant. And if picky, persnickety Collette
could like climbing into bed with a man and call it wonderful, well, then so
would she!

Fancy would like to have a man make this infernal ache go
away. Collette said it did after a man put his prick inside and worked a woman
good and proper. That if he did it right, then a woman broke apart, going all
soft and tingly afterward. Fancy would love to have a man make her feel like
that. Delicious and warm.

And from the sounds coming from Bull Elk’s mouth, he
whispered how he might like that too.

She rolled over, out of his reach. He caught her by both
wrists and held tight. His gaze was hot, lusty and wild. She did not mistake
what he wanted from her.

Oh god. Would she die because she had denied him?

He wrapped an arm around her back, hauled her against him
and with one hand holding her chin, kissed her as if she were glass and he were
tempered bronze. His breath tasted of wild sage and rosemary. His lips pressed
and molded, demanding she open her own to him. When she did, his tongue darted
in. His strokes were languid, alluring. Her insides melted. Her pussy quivered
and gushed with wet delight. Oh, heavens, where had he learned how to invade a
woman like this? She wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him closer. At
once, she realized what she’d done and pushed at his chest. To no advantage.
She tried to scoot back, but she slipped off the rock.

He caught her before she hit the ground and drew her up, up,
up to him. Whispering Comanche words of comfort, he seized a length of her long
hair, wound it around his wrist and pulled her against his chest. This time
when his firm lips took hers, he sent endless ripples of excitement through her
blood. He sought to taste all of her mouth, suck at both of her lips and tempt
her to kiss him back. When she was so enraptured that she did, he tore away,
gasped and spoke to her with fire burning in his gaze.

“Kiss me again, my Moon.”

My father had taught me that a virile chief of the Antelope
tribe should not be enchanted by a woman. He should be free and take whomever
he wants from among the finest females of his people.

But the Anglo, Shining Moon, was the most beautiful woman I
had ever seen in my life. From the first day I looked upon her among the crowd
at the long knives’ powwow in the town they called Fredericksburg, I began my
plan to take her and make her mine.

Unlike the women of my people, the lords of the Texas
plains, she was pale. When I pointed to her last year as my desire, a few of my
braves laughed at her looks, just as they did her two sisters. But they dared
not laugh at me or my need to brand her as my own. Instead my friends said she
appeared sickly. But I knew by the flush like wild paintbrush pinks blooming in
her cheeks that she was healthy. She smiled often, her plump lips wide as she
expressed her laughter. I knew she would do that when I took her to my tipi and
shot my body’s arrows into her loins. I would make this so. She was strong and
lusty and I could see it in her smile and the lush beauty of her body. Her back
was straight and long. Her legs, which I could not yet admire in their
nakedness, had to be the same because they carried her in graceful strides upon
our rocky soil. Her eyes were large, brilliant and blue. The rich color of the
kitana
,
the flowers the white men called bluebonnets, her eyes spoke of her soaring
soul. But it was her hair that fascinated me—falling to her waist in curling
waves as if it were sparkling water rushing over cliffs. Its pale brilliance
shimmered as the moon on a cloudless night. Her joyous woman’s body I was
determined to possess. Her round breasts, her wide hips and her woman’s core. The
Mexicans called it many words. The one I preferred was
gatto
. What the
Anglo men called her cat. Her pussy.

That I would have too.

Shaved, swollen and wet for me.

For months I had prayed that I would capture her so that I
might teach her a wife’s delight before any other man branded her with his
seed. With women, I was a virile man. I had enjoyed two wives, but the first
had died giving birth to my son, Two Lance. The other had died in the water
sickness called cholera that took so many of my people in their youth. To
replace them, I would capture this moon woman as my own, despite my men’s
dismay. As my new first wife, she would not work hard but be honored and
praised. I would see to it. She would be free for me at night and by day in my
tipi on my cot, my male flesh probing high and often inside her pussy.

To steal her was one task. To seduce her, to thrust my lance
inside her, a bigger one. To accomplish that, I had predicted I must show her I
could be gentle. And to keep her eager for me, ready to open her legs for me
every time I wished, I would woo her as carefully as if she were the daughter
of the moon god.

First I had to be certain we had escaped any posse. All
morning, my band and I and my prize rode fast and hard away from their town of
Bravado over the dusty hills. I saw no sign of anyone following. Not her frail
father or her brother, not that Texas Ranger MacRae or his brother the Sheriff.
When I thought it safe to water our mustangs and refresh ourselves, I stopped
my party by a clear creek. My pretty woman needed water and care. She had been
so brave. I’d seen how my men noted that she did not scream or cry in my
embrace. I took her from my horse and carried her to a rock.

She was mine. Only one other man, my younger brother, would
ever be allowed to touch her again. And only if I gave him permission. As I sat
there with her in my lap, testing my patience as my cock grew twice its normal
size, I took my time caring for her. I kneaded her aching limbs and
demonstrated how I would protect her, even from the likes of Knows Brown Bear.
He deserved to die by my knife for his attempt to fuck her. That upstart had
been an animal himself, having taken my happy youngest sister when she was only
twelve to his tipi. There he had plunged his rod inside her so violently, she
bled and died days after. Now Knows Brown Bear was dead at my hand for daring
to touch the woman who would be my wife, my Shining Moon.

I ran my hands over Fancy’s injured foot and knew she had
twisted her muscles. To cure this, rest was best, but we were far from our new
camp. To marry me with a light heart, Shining Moon must learn that in addition
to being her protector, I was kind. And so I tried the Anglos’ way to win a
woman’s love.

I seized a crystal length of her hair and wound it round my
wrist. I smiled while I drew her mouth to mine. She gazed upon my lips too long
to be uninterested. That she was intrigued swelled my pride and my cock. I had
much to show her about how a Comanche loved his wife and I would begin with
this command. “Kiss me again, my moon.”

She jerked away. “I am surprised that you know how to kiss.”

I gave her the distance her shock and her pride demanded
while I stared into her glorious blue eyes. “I do know very well,” I said with
humor.

She did not smile. “You know much about us. And you speak
English very well.”

I nodded. I was calm. Why not? Her flight from me was
unnecessary. “Thank you.”

She shivered beneath my hands but her words were quick and
bold. “How did you learn?”

“My father’s brother took an Anglo woman to wife.”

Those large, expressive bluebonnet eyes widened in shock.
“Took her?”

I would tell her what was necessary to show we were not evil
and that if she opened her mind, she could learn to love us. And me. “She never
returned to you. She never wished to go.”

Shining Moon swallowed hard, her nostrils flaring as she
considered that. The idea that an Anglo woman would accept a Comanche stung
her, but clearly it did not appall her. That confirmed for me that she was a
smart woman, able to learn new ways without regret. “What is her name?”

“Bird Sings.”

“But…her white name. What was it?”

I shook my head. “This I do not know. You may ask her. She
taught her language to me, my young brother White Hawk and my sister Willow
Talks.”

“That’s how you can talk so easily with Herr Mannheim and
the MacRaes at the powwows,” she said with some awe.

I agreed. “We make peace.”

She grabbed my hand and beseeched me with passion swimming
in her eyes. “Oh, but Bull Elk, you must realize that this capture will end the
peace.”

I hoped not. Yet I had not watched my father and his father
lead our people against the settlers all my life without the understanding that
they were eager to ride off and kill others. My decision to take Shining Moon
as my bride had been a heavy burden upon my mind for many months. Despite the
cost to peace in these hills, I had seized her. Even the Great Spirit had
confirmed for me in a dream that her men would not find her until she fled a
fireball. I would keep her from any such blaze and firmly in my bed, her legs
spread wide for me to pleasure her. “I will have you.”

Her back stiffened, straight as an arrow. “They will come
for me. Send out war parties. Hunt you down.”

“I do not fear.” And this was true. My mind was quiet. “Your
men are few. Brother has killed brother in your war for many years.”

“Yes, even Sheriff MacRae and his older brother the Ranger
fought each other. But those two are strong and can gather many men from Austin
and San Antonio.”

“No.”

“But—”

“No,” I said with more compassion, then I spread my fingers
and ran them through her hair. Her curls felt thick and heavy, soft as the down
of one of their lambs. With unrelenting power, I drew her lips to mine and
spoke upon her flesh. “I am stronger and I will keep you.”

I kissed her then, her mouth all mine. Her will, floating
into mine. Her body, pressing against mine. The persuasion she did not like.
But at the feel of my tongue at the seam of her lips, she sighed and opened for
my invasion. My tongue sank deeply into her cavern. As I predicted she would
be, she was eager for me. And warm. And wet.

As her pussy would be for me tonight.

She broke our kiss. Her body heaving with outrage that she
met my desire with her own. She pushed the flat of her hand against my chest
and the tattoo I had the medicine man make for the sign of our coming union. “I
will not be your slave. I would die first. I would find a way to—”

“Do not die.” I covered her hand with my own and ground her
palm against my aching nipple. “Live with me.”

She struggled to wrench away.

I would not let her go. With a grunt, I shoved my hand
between her legs, she wore no covering to her cat. That I liked and grinned at
her, sweet woman that she was. Beneath my fingers, she grew hot and I was
tempted to lift her skirts and stroke her juicy flesh. She would admit tonight
that she belonged to me. I would show her how well my lance would fill her.
This plump
gatto
, I would tame and pet and suck. “I am yours and soon,
you will be mine and no other’s.”

We arrived at our camp soon after dusk, where women and
children rushed out first to greet us with loud cries. The braves who had
remained home to defend our tribe emerged from their tipis next. Immediately
all saw one of my band slung over his mustang and the best friend of Knows
Brown Bear ran toward the tent of his mother. Turning my face to my people, I
hailed them with a raised hand of peace. I rode into the village like the proud
man I was because I had accomplished my goal. I reached back and placed one
hand to the thigh of my woman who rode behind me, telling all she was my prize.

As we approached the center of the camp, I halted and I told
my braves to return the body of Knows Brown Bear to his mother and see to his
burial. I watched them leave me, then greeted my younger sister who stood
waiting to help me after my long journey. I tossed my reins to her, then helped
Shining Moon down from my horse.

“Take her to my tipi,” I told my sister as I put her hand on
my woman’s. Willow Talks cast her eyes down in deference to me. “Prepare her for
me.”

“You will have her tonight?”

I nodded while I examined the Anglo woman who would no
longer exist solely in my dreams. Now she would be in my arms and I inside the
very heart of her. I would work earnestly to make this so. “Yes. As I planned.”

“But you must explain Knows Brown Bear’s death to the
elders,” she said in a low voice so others would not hear.

“Let them prepare him for his honors. I will dance around
his funeral pyre tomorrow night.”

“But my brother, that should occur tonight!”

“He dishonored himself and me by trying to take my woman
from me, Willow Talks. I will honor him as I must but no more than necessary.”

“I see,” she agreed, lowering her eyes. “But now the elders
beg you to come to them in the sweat lodge. Our uncle ran to them when he saw
you riding toward us on the ridge and told them of your feat.”

“I count no coup tonight. I made no war,” I told her as I
began to untie my loincloth for my ceremonial bath in the nearby river. “Only
the winning of my woman.”

“Still, my brother, they urge you to come. They fear the
long knives with their rifles.”

“I told the elders before I left that the Anglos would not
harm us. I planned to seize my woman in such a way that they could not. I have
kept my promise.” I whirled but before me stood my younger brother, White Hawk.
“I see that you are just as fearful.”

He nodded. “I am not frightened, honorable brother. I know
you plan raids well. And you told me of the Great Spirit who blesses this
union. But the elders must hear you on this. Tie up your loincloth, save your
lance for your wife, and do them this courtesy. It is only good medicine, Bull
Elk.”

All of this I had spoken in my own tongue to my brother and
sister, and so Shining Moon could hear only the sounds of my intent. She
waited, silent and lovely, as my sister held her hand and stroked her arm
tenderly. But her eyes twinkled in the starlight and I feared she wept soft
tears of fear now that we arrived here in my home. So eager to enjoy her, I had
hurried to wash myself clean of my past life and lie with her, but in the
doing, I had rushed past good manners to my elders.

“Very well,” I told White Hawk. He tore his gaze from my
woman, envy and lust written on his face. “Come with me. You can answer any
questions they may ask about my true intentions. And you know my heart about
this woman and how I talked for many hours with the Great Spirit about taking
her from her people.”