Hunting the Huntress (3 page)

Tate’s hands had slowed their movements, the strong fingers teasing her with light caresses. Now his lips lowered again, leaving a trail of damp kisses across her belly and thighs. He seemed determined to slow the pace, and drive her to insanity in the process.

Nilana bit back another moan, pressing her mouth closed to hold back the pleading words that threatened to break free from her lips. She was a huntress—she was strong. She would not beg.

Cheveyo’s grip loosened long enough for him to transfer both wrists to one of his large hands. The move drew her attention away from Tate and she found her gaze locked onto that of the powerful shaman.

He made a low growling noise in the back of his throat, a sound of hunger. Nilana shivered as the whisper of sound slipped through the still darkness. Behind her head, she felt his hardness and knew he was as aroused now as he had been when he had called her from her cougar form. It hadn’t mattered to her before; her thoughts had been only for the warrior who held her beneath him. Now she had Cheveyo’s thick hardness only inches from her lips, and she wondered what it would feel like to take him deep into her mouth.

She stilled at the thought. She wanted to taste him. As much as she wanted to feel the warrior take her again with his mouth, she wanted to turn to take Cheveyo between her lips and feel his heat within her.

His eyes were watching her, narrowed with desire. He used his free hand to brush back the hair that had tangled around her neck while they subdued her. Long, black, silky strands slipped through his fingers to reveal her sensitive flesh to his heated gaze.

Nilana opened her mouth, not sure if she was going to argue or beg. She didn’t get the chance to do either. Cheveyo’s lips covered hers, firm and hot against hers. The jolt of lightning passing through her at his upside down kiss shocked her, and her lips opened beneath him. His tongue entered swiftly to wage an intimate battle with her own.

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The suddenness of the kiss robbed her of all but the desire to respond. Back and forth his tongue swept, first licking at her lips then thrusting deep to possess her. His position above her left her completely at his mercy, unable to do anything but respond to his motions. Her nipples hardened as his taste, the sweetness of desert honey and the smokiness of the pipe tobacco filled her senses. She strained towards him, aching to surround herself with his essence.

His mouth slipped away, licking its way down her throat to the sensitive skin at the base. He was using his hold on her wrists to keep her body stretched taut. Even as his lips slid lower down her body, he held her arms higher, thrusting her breasts high into the air.

She heard his voice as he whispered soft words of blessing against her skin. And then the worlds spiraled away, swept into the vortex of need his lips had created against her flesh.

Her already-hard nipples pebbled into aching points of need as his breath warmed them. Then his hot, moist tongue circled one peak, delicately laving the sensitive skin.

When his mouth closed around her, teeth biting lightly into the surrounding mound, she couldn’t hold back her cry.

“More,” she pleaded. His hand moved to her other breast to tweak the stiff nipple between his fingers. It wasn’t enough.

She felt the sudden chill between her legs where seconds before there had been heat.

Her eyes opened, slowly focusing on the man who was kneeling between her upraised knees. Tate watched with approval as his friend feasted at her breasts, sucking the nipple and flesh into his mouth and letting it slip free from between his careful teeth.

Tate’s fingers slid down the sensitive seam between her legs. “Wildcat, you are so wet.” One finger slid in again, then another, drawing a ragged moan from her lips. “And tight.” His fingers withdrew, and at last he moved to fill the space that had been left for his body. She ached with the need to feel him and he seemed to read her mind, fitting his hot hardness against her entrance.

Nilana felt a fissure of uneasiness stab through her at his touch. He was large everywhere, and her quivering nerves focused on the shaft now pressing against her core.

She shivered at the thought of being filled by his length. It wasn’t going to be an easy fit.

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Then the fear washed away as his flesh stroked hers and drew a wave of hunger from her core. She needed him to take her, to possess her, as she had never before needed a man.

She’d been empty for so long. Suddenly she knew that once he had taken her to the heights of passion, she would never be empty again. With an eager cry she pressed her hips up, inviting him in.

His hands cupped her hips, holding her open before him. “Look at me, Nilana.” The hard plum-shaped head of his cock was rubbing against her, spreading her wetness along his length. Their gazes met. His dark gaze flashed with his intent. Then he would wait no more. Firmly he began pushing inside, moving into the tightness surrounding him. And she writhed against him, finally done with fighting the losing battle against her desires.

A moment of stillness caught her as she felt him stretching her from the inside out.

He was big, too big.
He wasn’t going to fit
, she thought. But bit by bit her flesh ceded ground, stretching as it adjusted to the girth filling her with such incredible tightness.

His finger was rubbing her clit, setting off a slow moving ripple of pleasure. “Relax, Wildcat. Let me in.” As she convulsed around him he drove into her, finding room where there had seemed none. His flesh forged a path through the clinging wetness. The harsh sound of his breath as he fought for control rasped across her ears, pushing her to the limits of her control. Every inch of her was filled with the exquisite pressure. It pulled her towards the edge of a darkness filled by an eternity of possibilities. He leaned forward, using his weight to complete the joining, until he finally was sheathed completely in her core.

For a long moment, he held still while her body clenched around him. Finally he began to move, pulling out a bare finger’s width before pushing in again. Slowly in and out, each thrust finding a bit of depth that had not yet been plundered. Nilana gasped at the sensation, grinding her hips upward in a dance of lust. Heat coursed through her in ever-growing ripples. She bucked against him with a desperate sound and urged him on with cries of hunger.

Whimpers of need. Demands for fulfillment.

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He smothered a laugh that ended in a groan and used his hands on her hip to slow her sensual movements. “Not so fast. We’ve got all night.” He exchanged a glance with Cheveyo. “We’ve got forever.”

She didn’t want slow. She’d fought this hunger, fought them, for too long. Now that she’d stopped fighting, her needs had escaped and were rocking through her body in delighted shivers. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she pulled him hungrily closer, urging him to move harder, faster. She needed his fullness, ached to feel his flesh stretching hers, joining hers. Possessing hers. The exquisite feel of her body adjusting to accommodate his cock drove her on.

“Not yet, Wildcat.” Tate growled low in his chest, pulling back to kneel between her legs as he battled her for control. She reached for him, elated at the knowledge she could push him to the edge, and determined to strip away the restraint he held over himself.

The shaman moved in response, taking one of her hands in each of his and holding her upper body still before bending over Nilana again. “Be still now, fierce one. Your body isn’t quite there yet. Give it time.” He crooned into her ear, his voice both soothing and demanding. Heat rolled off him in waves and warmed her where he pressed against her naked flesh

Cheveyo’s mouth found hers again. He gazed deep into her eyes as he caught her in his embrace. For now, he seemed happy to leisurely nip at her lips, his tongue slipping past them to tease her. His slow, lingering caresses did what Tate had wanted. Her passion eased, from the raging fire of an inferno to the flickering flames of a well-tended blaze. Calmer now, she welcomed him in, stroking the velvety softness of his tongue with her own. His lips moved in fluid brushes over her moistness, soothing and arousing with the same caress.

He released her lips, content to whisper against her ear as he watched the man between her thighs. Nilana’s gaze followed his. Tate had kept up his slow, steady movements while she was calmed by the shaman, pressing forward as her body opened around him. For long moments they rocked in the rhythm they had found, But now his patience ended.

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There was no more waiting, no more holding back. Tate lunged forward, his body blocking out the sky above until all she could see was him. His hands held him above her as he angled himself to drive into her, pounding into her wetness with his hard thrusts.

Possessed as she’d never been before, Nilana cried out beneath him. She needed release. Her body, so recently calmed, soared to new heights as it drove relentlessly in search of its peak. Some part of her had been waiting for this moment since he’d ridden into camp, had been yearning for his possession since his gaze had watched hers across the fires. As his cock delved deeply into her core she arched beneath him, blind in her desperate need for release.

Tate panted above her, his voice raw with mindless passion. As he thrust into her over and over, she felt the snap of her control and knew she had just opened a part of herself she’d always kept closed away.

“Wildcat—” The word was ripped from his throat. Euphoria rippled across her skin and she felt his release deep within her.

She came, her climax hitting in a scream of pleasure that echoed through the night and pulled her into the darkness of unknowing.

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Tate paced restlessly around the perimeter of the small canyon. A chilly wind blew down the dry riverbed, carrying the far-off sounds of the night hunt to his alert ears. The scent of an approaching early winter storm hung in the air, heavy with the promise of bitterly cold days and long, snowy nights. The smell was faint yet, and instinctively he noted the shifting air pressures and the dropping temperature. It would be long hours still before snow began to fall, sometime around the onset of what would be a cold and white dawn. He lifted his face to the glow of the moon, letting the tension slide away, before looking back through the shadows.

Studying the naked couple still entwined together where they sprawled on the ground, Tate fought the urge to join them again. He was too restless to lie still. Nilana had fought them hard, running herself to near exhaustion, and her body needed this brief rest to recover. She slept deeply, her lean curves a dark shadow against the lighter skin of the shaman. Not one to be watched unawares Cheveyo threw him a rare smile, but his hands continued stroking soothingly through long waves of midnight hair that flowed across his chest. With a deep breath, Tate allowed himself to relax fully. The long journey here had finally reached its end.

And hopefully, a new beginning had arrived as well.

It was a journey that had started nearly ten winters ago, when his father had fallen in a raid. Tate had led out the tribe’s warriors the next morning, leaving camp as a vengeful son and returning a battle-proven chief. The people of the
Meskwaku
tribe had followed him without question. The years since their rout of the
Jurunga
had seen his tribe grow in size and wealth. Many warm buffalo skins lined the lodges of his people, and each year saw the tribe grow with its bounty. Plentiful amounts of food were put aside each summer and fall to fill the cooking pots until the spring thaw.

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He’d taken no woman as mate. Even in the coldest, darkest nights of winter, he felt no temptation to join his path with another. Cheveyo had advised him well during those years, teaching him the history of the great warrior chiefs before him. His relationship with the older shaman had grown from one of a surrogate father and son, to a deep and enduring friendship. There was no one he trusted more, no other he would consider sharing his mate with. Yet sharing Nilana with Cheveyo had felt every bit as natural as the instinctive urge to possess the huntress.

Proud and determined, she was everything he’d hoped for, every bit the treasure Cheveyo had spirit dreamed. As a huntress, she was one of the best he’d ever seen, coming close to matching his skills when she hunted as a cougar. Nilana had strength and spirit, and had used both during the chase. Several times, she had almost lost them as they raced through the night.

Her beauty was that of the proud cougar she channeled, all elegance and sleek muscles that flowed with her graceful motions. Those long, slender legs were now draped across those of his friend in sleep, but he remembered well how they had felt pulling him closer at the peak of her climax. Her ass was deliciously rounded, with muscled curves and shadowed delights. His cock hardened, his balls drawing tight with need. Watching her as she slept, thinking of the pleasure just shared, was enough to bring him to aching hardness.

Tate reined in his hunger. He’d been fighting it since the moment she’d caught him in her obsidian gaze. He wanted her like he’d wanted no other. From the night Cheveyo had come to him to share his spirit dream, he’d carried in his mind a vision of what the future for his tribe could be. The shaman had dream walked, and in his vision had seen a future which could have the
Meskwaku
become one of the most respected, most powerful of tribes. That future depended on finding the rarest of mates, a woman strong enough to bind the physical power of a warrior chief to the spiritual strength of a great shaman.

Cheveyo’s dream had led them far south to the hunt. As soon as he had laid eyes on Nilana, he had known she was the one. This great huntress could stand at his side, fierce enough to defend his tribe in battle, passionate enough to come eagerly to his bed and
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give him the children his tribe depended on. Children he suddenly yearned for, almost as much as he craved the feel of her flesh welcoming him into her heat.

His tribe needed her. Cheveyo, often solemn but now relaxed with her in his arms, needed her. And he needed her, body and soul.

He had to convince her she needed them every bit as much.

She had fought them with all the strength she had. He’d recognized a desperation in her that puzzled him. Her body had eagerly responded to their touch, opening like the great, golden flower unfurling its petals as it rose to meet the summer sun. But her mind had refused to give in, even as her voice had echoed with fear.

Cheveyo spoke softly. “She is more afraid of herself than she is of us.”

Tate had long since given up being surprised when the shaman read his thoughts.

“But what is it she fears? We offer her greatness—mate of both warrior and shaman, mother to our sons and daughters.”

“At what price comes greatness? For our huntress, it would mean leaving behind the friends, the land she knows. The life she knows. Fear is not an unreasonable response.”

Tate stalked over to tower over them. “It is the way of our people. She will learn to love her new tribe, and her new life.”

He crouched down, one hand reaching out possessively to stroke the smooth skin of her cheek. He’d never thought to feel this way for a woman. To crave the feel of her skin under his and the thrill of the sound of his voice on her tongue. Now he had found her, there was no chance he’d let her go.

She’d already captured his heart. He just had to convince her to keep it.

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