LeClerc 03 - Wild Savage Heart (29 page)

“Nonetheless, you deserve one.” He lowered her back onto the bed. “I realize that a lady demands certain consideration from her husband and I was negligent in my treatment of you.”

Molly freed a hand from the quilt and grabbed Hawk’s shirt as he attempted to rise.

“What are you talking about? What
considerations?”

Sitting down beside her, Hawk freed his shirt from her grasp and raised her hand to his lips. He placed soft reverent kisses on her palm before tucking it back beneath the quilt.

“Hawk, don’t you want to kiss me?”

“Of course I do, Molly.” He moved restlessly, as if uncomfortable with the discussion. “I have tried very hard not to press you for the rights of a husband. I am fully aware that you are a lady and I know that certain parts of a marriage are distasteful to you.”

“What?” Molly interrupted in amazement. “How did you come to that conclusion?”

Hawk looked past her, into the darkness. “I have always known that ladies look upon the marriage bed as a necessity they must bear. It is not my intention to force myself on you any more often than I must, but Molly, please understand that I need … ah, I want … ah, hell,” he muttered to a halt.

Not knowing whether to laugh, cry or rip her clothes off and show her husband that she was far from being a lady, Molly slowly shook her head. His formidable expression did not deter her curiosity. “Hawk, where did this information come from?”

“Friends during my university days were careful to explain many things that seemed strange to me.”

“Did the ladies find you … interesting?”

“The first few months that I was there I believed they did,” he replied. “Then, when my friends explained several things about ladies to me I realized that I was misreading their intentions.”

“Hawk, have you ever wondered if it were possible that your friends were jealous?”

“Jealous?” His head snapped up and his eyes narrowed.

“You are incredibly handsome. Your copper skin invites a feminine hand to reach out and stroke it, while your brooding black eyes dare her to try. You were probably attracting the attention of the ladies while they were all but ignored. It must have been difficult, if not downright impossible, for them to watch while a backwoods
Indian
caught the fancy of all the young ladies but they were left stranded.” Hawk’s eyes gleamed. “They wouldn’t do that to me. They were, and still are, my friends.”

Molly tried, unsuccessfully, to bite back a smile. “I’m sure that they are your friends. However, their lecture on the likes and dislikes of ladies was completely wrong.”

“Are you saying that you want me as a lover?” he asked bluntly, hoping she’d agree, praying she wouldn’t turn him away.

“I’m saying, Nathan Morning Hawk, that if your friends were correct in their assumption about ladies, then I’m no lady!”

For the first time in a longtime, Hawk was unsure of himself. “Molly, I will be gentle with you.”

“I don’t want gentleness!” Molly sat up and pushed the blanket away. “So help me, Hawk, if you don’t make love to me, I’ll tie you to a tree and get my own pleasure from your body.”

Hawk’s smile was a flash of white in the darkness as he removed his coat and began to unlace his shirt. “Perhaps another time. That could be an experience I don’t think I want to miss, but this time we’ll do it my way,” he commented, his voice husky with the desire that was never far from the surface when he was around his wife.

Molly watched with fascination as he pulled his shirt over his head, revealing the width of his shoulders and the rippling strength of his chest. The firelight danced across the smooth dark skin and her hand drew into a fist as she fought an overwhelming desire to touch him. Her breathing became labored as her eyes followed his hands to the laces on his pants.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” he asked, knowing that he could still stop himself — maybe.

Molly looked into his eyes, her own reflecting her need. “Make me your wife.”

Knee-high moccasins were quickly unlaced and Hawk stood.

“Do you find me incredibly handsome?” he asked, repeating her own words.

“Yes,” she replied, sitting up, unaware of the quilt as it slid off of her shoulders.

“Do you want to touch my copper skin?” His voice was velvet, stoking the fires of her growing need.

“Yes.” Molly rose to her knees, unconscious of her hands reaching toward his waist.

Slowly, as time stood still, Hawk pulled the laces free from his pants. The fabric parted to reveal smooth copper skin and, as they slid lower on his hips, a narrow line of coal black hair that disappeared beneath the fabric.

With fingers that trembled, Molly touched the firm ridges of his stomach. She heard his hiss of breath as she softly brushed over him.

“Touch me,
nee wah,”
he whispered, his eyes glowing with desire. “I have longed to feel your hands against my skin.”

Leaning forward, Molly placed soft, enticing kisses against the warmth of his stomach. Her hands moved voluntarily up to his smooth chest, across wide shoulders and down muscular arms.

When her hands glided to his, Hawk entwined his fingers through hers. She rested her cheek against his stomach, while the soft breeze playfully wrapped her long hair around his legs, capturing him in a web of silk.

“Look at us, Molly.” His husky voice betrayed the serious intensity of his eyes.

She raised her head to look willingly at him. “I see my husband,” she whispered, placing another longing kiss on his stomach.

“You see an Indian.” He put her hand against his smooth chest. “Look at your pale flesh against mine.”

“A beautiful Indian… a gentle, caring man …” She rubbed her cheek against his stomach. “My husband.”

Tugging her hands from his, she wrapped her fingers around the waist of his pants. “It’s too late to try to force me away, Hawk. I love you. And I w///be your wife!”

The battle, the war, was lost. He had no weapon to fight against her words of love when they so perfectly matched his own desires. The future would resolve itself, for now there was Molly … and love.

Slowly, deliciously, Molly released the fabric and watched as it slid down heavily muscled thighs. Hawk kicked free of the pants and knelt beside her, pulling her against him.

“You have too many clothes on, woman,” he murmured as he placed numerous kisses on her face. “But I fear you’ll freeze if I remove your nightdress.”

Molly’s rippling laugh sent slivers of desire down his spine. “Right now there is no way I could freeze, but if I was in danger I trust you could find a way to warm me?”

Hawk’s reply was a growl of desire as he found the hem of her gown and pulled it over her head. He pulled her against him while eager hands skimmed over warm flesh as searching lips constantly found new and different places to taste.

Hawk marveled at her full breasts, as he traced the delicate blue veins just beneath her skin with his tongue.

Molly relished the freedom to touch, savoring each as a treasure to be admired at length — later, when desire wasn’t the overpowering force driving her to explore quickly.

Her hands twined in the blue-black hair that had so enticed her as his mouth found the puckered peak of her breast. The gentle tug and pull of his lips made her grasp for a firm hold. With her head thrown back and her back arched to give her better access, her long honey-colored hair tied a lover’s knot around their fevered bodies.

Hawk sampled her with his mouth as his hands trailed to new territory. Down her slender back to the firmness of her rounded bottom to the trembling strength of her thighs, he found nothing but delight in her body. A fevered pitch was building in both of them when he found the swelling of her stomach.

M oily was suddenly shy as he drew back so that he could see the mound of her belly. He tasted the tight flesh while his hands explored. She wanted to hide her face as he held the weight of her in his hands but then he spoke, wiping away embarrassment.

His words were Shawnee but they were so eloquent when combined with his worshipping touch that Molly needed no translation. Her breath caught as he traced the taut skin that cradled her child.

“He will be my son.” Both hands caressed her belly with reverence. “1 can feel as he grows in your body, nestled in the safety of your womb, but already love for him grows in my heart.”

Emotion too deep for simple words to express held them captive and for long minutes their gaze locked, and they were aware only of this moment in time. The cold air danced over their exposed skin and a shiver rippled through her. Hawk grabbed the quilt, draping it over her shoulders but allowing none to come between their bodies. With her hands occupied holding the blanket in place she could only kneel before him as he explored her.

Tender touches and gentle kisses led to fevered caresses and deep moans of desire. When her legs could no longer support her, Hawk lowered her to the bed, throwing the quilt over both of them.

When Molly doubted that she could stand another kiss, another touch, Hawk taught her that she could. Mindless with need, enthralled by a hunger she had never felt before, she parted her thighs, silently begging him to end the torment.

“I’ve wanted for so long,“he whispered, his breath warm against the aroused flesh of her breasts.

“Wanted?”

“Wanted to touch you.” His hands journeyed leisurely down her body, stopping to linger in places of special interest.

“Wanted to taste you.” His mouth followed the trail of his hands, tasting, suckling, nipping.

He rose and moved carefully between her thighs. “Wanted to be one with you.”

“Love me, Hawk.”

Driven by the rhythm of the drums pounding through him, Hawk accepted the invitation. With utmost caution to protect the babe sheltered in her body, he sensuously invaded the damp warmth of her femininity. Copper flesh merged with silky satin as two became one. Each lingering thrust was a pledge of love, a promise of tomorrow.

Together they traveled far beyond the enchantment of the moonbow, the bewitchment of lovers united in a world of two.

Molly woke when she felt cold air invade the cocoon of warmth provided by the quilt. Pulling the blanket snugly around her nose, she watched as Hawk stoked the fire.

The morning sun was only beginning to chase away the night, but it provided enough light for her to appreciate the perfection of his body. Well-honed muscles rippled beneath firm, smooth skin with each graceful movement. Raven black hair hung to impossibly wide shoulders that arrowed down to narrow hips and rock-hard thighs.

His movements were relaxed, almost leisurely, as muscles responded upon demand. The cold air nipped at her exposed nose and a light layer of frost glittered on the bare ground, but he showed no obvious discomfort.

Molly was so enchanted by her silent observation of him that she was disappointed when he returned to the bed and climbed beneath the quilt.

“You’re cold!” she complained as he snuggled his chilled flesh against her warm body.

“Woman, another minute of staring at me and I would have been burning up!” he growled against the soft skin of her shoulder.

“I wasn’t staring at you!” she defended herself as her cheeks grew rosy with embarrassment.

“If that wasn’t staring what would you call it?” Hawk propped his head up so that he could look at her.

“Your back was to me so how do you know I was staring?”

“I could feel your honey-sweet eyes devouring me.” He entwined his long legs with hers, his knee resting intimately at the lower slope of her stomach.

Rather than trying to escape from his chilled skin, Molly snuggled closer.

“I was asleep until you came back to bed and tried to freeze me,” she lied complacently.

“My people say that if you lie, your tongue will grow as stiff as tree bark and everyone will know that you can’t be trusted.”

“I’m not sure I know what you mean. Are you implying that I’m not telling the truth?” Her hands lowered to his thigh across her stomach and she began gently to stroke him from knee to groin.

“It would be a shame for such a sweet tongue to grow thick and useless when I can think of better uses for it,” he whispered with a groan when her nimble fingers discovered new areas to stroke.

“If you keep that up,” he reached for her hand and held it firmly in place, “then I’m going to have a miserable day trying to stay in the saddle.”

“You don’t like it?” she whispered, giving him a gentle squeeze.

“I like it far too much,” he groaned. “But as much as I’d like to stay here with you until I’ve touched and tasted every inch of your delectable body, we’ve got to get on the trail. It’s turning cold sooner than I thought it would and I want to be home before the first snow.”

Reluctantly, Molly removed her hand from him. “Don’t let it be said that I was the cause of delay. Let’s get dressed and hit the trail.”

Hawk smiled as he found her hand beneath the quilt and returned it to his body. “I think we’ve got a few extra minutes, if you’re interested?”