Fireblossom (26 page)

He saw her breasts swelling, straining toward him, and he turned her supple form away. This was his gift to Maddie, these moments of pleasure as nearly perfect as he could manage; selfishly he realized that it was also a gift he was giving himself. He knew that he would carry the memory of this fantasy-made-real for the rest of his life.

Lifting her hair, he touched his lips to her nape, then nipped at her graceful shoulders, the sensitive sides of her back, down her spine... At last his hands cupped her buttocks. For one instant, Maddie felt the hot tumescence of him press her there, but then it was gone. His strong fingers kneaded her bottom, gently and then more deeply, sending needle pricks of electricity over her nerves. Then, painstakingly, Fox explored each curve and hollow of her shapely legs. He knelt and lifted her foot, kissing the instep while his eyes devoured every detail of her naked form.

When he lowered his head and pressed a kiss to her inner thigh, Maddie moaned and her hips bucked involuntarily in response. Fox mouth found her there and then pushed her thighs farther apart. She was blushing, lifting her head to look down in panic, and Fox glanced up to meet her sparkling gaze.

"Shh," he reassured her. "You're afraid of yourself, not me. I won't hurt you. Quite the contrary, in fact."

The sight of his roguish grin brought tears to her eyes, and love for him swept through her body in powerful waves. She reached down to touch his hair, grateful for the burnished light that allowed her to see the response in his eyes. In the next instant he came toward her, covering her with his powerful body and meeting her lips with a heartfelt kiss. This was truly dangerous; Fox knew it, but he no longer cared. Not tonight.

While her arms twined about his shoulders and their mouths fused in a wildly erotic dance of passion, Maddie felt as if she were soaring above the clouds. Every inch of her flesh was unbearably sensitive as a result of Fox's ministrations; but even more sublime was the simple pleasure of his body against her own and the chance to embrace and kiss the man she loved. Maddie's hands were hungry. In the midst of endless kissing, she buried her fingers in his hair, felt the curls that had enticed her for weeks as they fell over Fox's collar, and then touched his muscled shoulders and back. He was warm and hard all over; surprisingly familiar in a curious way, as if they had always been this intimate. The smell and the taste of him made her giddy.

Fox wasn't certain how much longer he could last. He freed his mouth from Maddie's kiss despite her whimpered protests and ventured lower. Her breasts were exquisite: full, creamy, and ripe, their pink nipples darkened slightly with arousal. Fox shook his head; this was torture of the finest sort.

When, after long moments of slow caresses, his warm tongue circled her nipple, Maddie made a low noise that didn't sound quite human to her own ears. He had to cup her breast in his hands while he suckled because she'd thrown her head back, writhing with pleasure. Dimly it occurred to her that her legs were parted and she was thoroughly wet there. The tingly yearning between her legs intensified; her hips seemed to have a life of their own, surging against Fox.

"Let it come," he encouraged, his voice ragged.

Although Maddie didn't know what he was talking about, her body seemed to understand. She was clenching her teeth, feeling the heat of his blue eyes on her even though her own were closed tight. One of his hands moved lower to find the tender spot where all her sensations were centered. Slowly, deftly, he began to explore.

"I need..."a voice sobbed, and she recognized it as her own.

His fingers continued to work their magic, then a few heartbeats passed and something wet and warm touched the very core of Maddie's desire. A cry passed her lips. As Fox's tongue swirled there expertly, she shuddered and gasped, and finally a tide of euphoric sensations broke free in waves that carried her higher and higher. Horrified, Madeleine realized that she was not only weeping but also pressing closer to his mouth as the contractions intensified.

When the tremors began to subside, Maddie shocked herself by experiencing not shame but a sense of bliss and fulfillment. And she felt closer to Fox than she had ever dreamed possible. Not only had he shared the experience with her, it was he who had been her guide.

Ablaze with his own passion, Fox was astonished to hear Maddie's uninhibited, soft laughter. She pulled at his hair and he went to her, kissing her ravenously. Her legs embraced his hips, her mouth beamed under his, and then she touched him, undaunted by his state of arousal. Fox was ready for her—achingly ready.

"If I hurt you," he whispered, "stop me."

"You can't," Maddie replied, giddy. "We were created to be together."

Just for tonight, he'd believe it, too. The sensation of thrusting into her, snug and moist, was so agonizingly pleasurable that Fox thought for a moment he had died—and he didn't care. She was right; they fit together as if they'd made love a thousand times. The scent of her hair and the curve of her neck against her face were perfect to him. Their rhythms matched magically. Maddie met each deep thrust while Fox quickly realized that he was no longer able to choreograph their lovemaking. His body threatened to leave him behind; the blood pounded in his head, and thoughts were obliterated by the driving force of a passion more intense than any he'd experienced before.

Although he had planned this last scene of their perfect love-play, the initial scalding pulse of his climax came with unexpected suddenness. Maddie's fingers gripped the muscles of his back as he cried out. Her tightening embrace encouraged him to groan again, and his eyes stung as the last of his spasms subsided.

Gazing at Fox's slightly averted face, Maddie and saw that he was both stunned and completely vulnerable. Pushing back his damp hair, she touched his jaw with her lips.

"Christ," he breathed at last, overwhelmed and a little embarrassed.

Her skin prickled when he disengaged and rolled away. The air was turning cooler and an owl hooted in the distance. "Fox?" Her voice was barely audible. "Is something wrong? I mean—wasn't I—?"

Staring at her, he said flatly, "Good God, it isn't you, it's
me
." He sat up, his wide back and strong head silhouetted against the violet sky. "That's what comes of having the devil's own conceit. What made me imagine that I could give you something perfect? That is—" He broke off, staring into the distance. "Hell, I'm making an even bigger ass of myself trying to explain."

She was incredulous. Scrambling onto her knees, she wrapped her arms around him and cried, "Every moment was perfect, beyond dreaming. I don't have any idea how you think you failed, but I wish you hadn't mentioned it. I was
happy!"

It came to Fox then that she was right. Why couldn't he dwell on the pleasure rather than his own self-perceived shortcomings? Perhaps it had been a mistake for him to believe that he could escape the shadow of Little Bighorn. As long as he carried that burden it seemed that he wouldn't be able to freely enjoy pleasure... let alone accept real love.

Maddie was stung and perplexed by the sense that his thoughts had taken him away again. "Have you heard anything I've said?"

He turned to face her and she saw the raw emotion in his eyes. "Of course I heard you... and I agree with you. It was thoughtless of me. Unforgivable. But then, I warned you, didn't I? I told you that I can't give you what you need."

"Stop saying that!" she cried. Anger flashed in her green eyes and she tossed her hair which rippled over her bare shoulder like honeyed fire.

Fox gathered her into his embrace. They knelt in the evening breeze, holding each other fast, while Maddie blinked back tears.

"I'm sorry...." His words were scarcely audible. Slowly he tipped her face up, kissed her salty eyes and cheeks, and then her mouth. It was rosy, almost bruised, from their lovemaking, and the kiss they shared now grew sweeter by the moment.

"I'm not," she answered at length, smiling mischievously.

Laughter welled in him and his heart ached to release it along with the stubborn pain. Finally he did laugh. He saw the surprise and answering joy in Maddie's eyes before she drew him back down onto the quilt, where they laughed and loved together. In time, the starry sky covered them like a blanket of black velvet and diamonds.

* * *

Miracles seemed to crowd Maddie's life after that night. The land itself was a miracle once they reached the plains. Why hadn't she noticed when she'd first crossed the Dakota Territory with Gramma Susan and Benjamin? The endless sea of prairie grass sent roots two feet down, Fox told her, to provide nourishment for the buffalo whether it rained or not. Above them sprawled the sky, a canopy of Wedgwood blue decorated with a fanciful variety of clouds. Some were piled in mounds, like a profusion of whipped cream, while others were striated as if pieces of white cotton had been stretched and pulled apart.

Even more beautiful was each night's sunset. Together, Maddie and Fox would take in the spectacle as it unfolded across the boundless sky. Each sunset and sunrise seemed more breathtaking than the last. Each was a miracle.

And no less miraculous to Maddie was Fox. She was constantly intrigued and surprised by his mind, likening it to a puzzle with key pieces that he kept carefully locked away. So much remained uncertain between them, there was so much he insisted he couldn't give her, that she indulged in what was tangible.

The night after Maddie's awakening, Fox had been congenial but physically wary. It wasn't until the moon had risen high in the ebony sky and their fire was reduced to embers that Maddie rose out of a deep sleep, tempted by delicious pleasures. She was nestled against Fox's warm, bare chest. He had thrown one leg over her and, with a sleepy sigh, now ran his hand over her as if by instinct. The rough, long-fingered hand she adored fitted itself to the curve of her bottom, then slid up under the man's shirt she wore in place of a nightgown. Eventually, when Maddie was tingling all over, aroused even more by this wordless passion that built between them at this unreal hour when one always slept, Fox's mouth found her own. As if this episode might be passed off in the morning as a dream, he gave vent to his need, ravishing her with intimate kisses, caressing her with burning hands, and finally pushing into her eager body.

With the dawn, Maddie awoke to find Fox breaking their camp. Her cheeks colored at the sight of him, but he met her gaze unflinchingly. Still, nothing was said. Both knew what had occurred, yet it was easier to pretend otherwise.

It was afternoon now. Madeleine rode next to Fox, sharing the silence as she contemplated the simple beauty of the prairie and the miracle of her lover's body. How exotically he was made compared to her, all lean, sinewy strength, with wrists and hands and thighs that made her own seem childlike. He was the first man she had ever seen naked, and that made him all the more alluring and mysterious. She yearned to touch him. Finally, to fill the thundering silence of her thoughts, Maddie spoke.

"Fox, I hope I'm not mentioning a subject that is too painful for you, but I did want to say that I was sorry to hear about Mr. Hickok's death. Wasn't he a friend of yours?"

His chin rose slightly, his hands clenched once on the reins, and then he turned to let his blue eyes rest on Maddie. "Actually it's kind of you to mention Bill. He was a rare man. We did become friends during these past weeks and, to tell you the truth, I don't think I've accepted the fact that he's dead. It all seems like a dream, doesn't it? The night we left Deadwood amid the chaos following Bill's murder—and all that's happened since, for that matter." One brow arched wryly. "I think I'd be more upset about Bill if I didn't have a feeling that he was ready to go. He as much as said so."

Fox fell silent then, returning his attention to the mules. There hadn't been anything much for him to do during the past few miles of open, gently sloping prairie, but now they were coming around an outcropping of hills that blocked their view of the vast sea of pale green grass that lay beyond. After he navigated the mules and wagon around these last obstacles, they ought to have their first glimpse of Bear Butte.

Maddie's thoughts were in another realm entirely, as she brooded about Fox's remark that the past few days seemed like a dream. Did he wish that what had passed between them hadn't been real? She longed to ask, but Fox was staring ahead, concentrating on the rocky, precipitous path that the mules were navigating. Behind them the covered wagon clanked and groaned, until the ground eventually evened out and they emerged from the last stand of pine trees. Fox drew back on the reins, and Maddie followed his gaze. In the distance, a tall, pointed island seemed to rise out of the pale green ocean of prairie grass.

"What is
that
?" she breathed.

"Bear Butte." Memories pushed up forcefully from his past, grasping him like an unseen hand. Fox felt his palms go clammy, and perspiration beaded on his forehead. Christ, how much of his time with the Sioux had he buried at Little Bighorn? His conflict, it seemed, had been greater than he'd imagined. Staring now at the granite sentinel rising more than a thousand feet above the prairie, it came to him that he, like Maddie, had personal reasons for this journey. Glancing at her, he said, "It's inspiring, don't you think? The Sioux, or Lakota, have long regarded Bear Butte as a sacred place, and a convenient spot to gather as well. They usually come here at the end of the summer to fatten their ponies, do a bit of trading, and send smoke signals to other bands if the need arises...." He spoke almost unconsciously, and when he ran out of words, his voice trailed off.

"That's where we're going, isn't it?" Maddie queried in an effort to absorb reality. Their adventure was no longer a lark; soon she would be in the midst of the same Indians who had recently massacred more than two hundred American soldiers.

"Yes." Fox lifted his brows. "You aren't afraid, are you?"

She swallowed hard but managed a smile. "Perhaps. A little." No sooner were the words out than her heart began to beat like one of the Indian tom-toms she'd read about as a child. "Fox, you told my father that you spent time among the Sioux. Maybe you've even been to Bear Butte yourself before. Won't you tell me what to expect? I think it would help if I had knowledge beyond the myths I've heard about Indians."