The Renegade's Woman by Nikita Black Read Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Nikita Black
I was an Indian -- different, wild and forbidden. Every waking minute you thought only of me, of our bodies locked together, sweating and naked, and how good I make you feel between your legs. "
She whimpered, beyond reason, beyond anything but surrendering to his unremitting sensual assault. "Yes, damn you! Yes!"
His fingers dove deep into her. She cried out, but his mouth was on hers, capturing the sound before she could betray them both. With his callused thumb, he circled the fiery nubbin at the center of her trembling desire. She clutched at him, her nails piercing the soft flannel on his back, shaking with the craving to once again feel his hard male weapon slay the moist, hungering need deep within her.
"And you hate me for making you crazy like this, " he said, low and rough. "Crazy for wanting something that is so forbidden to us both. Yet impossible to live without. "
His thumb swirled around her, bringing her to her knees. She clung to him and cried, "God, how I hate you!"
He followed her down, relentless. Her climax burst over her, merciless, violent, shudderingly intense.
"I hate you, too--" he said, his voice threaded with dark torment, wringing every last morsel of sensation from her limp and throbbing body. She held onto him like a capsized sailor clinging to his vessel.
He wrestled with his trousers and yanked them down his thighs, then peeled her off his body, turned her and pushed her to her hands and knees, swiftly moving behind her.
"--More than I've hated anything in my life--" he gritted out and mounted her, plunging his thick, iron-like rod straight into her.
She almost screamed in pleasure, digging her fingernails into the rich forest sod to brace herself against his fierce onslaught. His hands found her breasts, and his teeth found her neck. He thrust into her again, and again, making deep grunting sounds each time he rammed in to the hilt.
His body stiffened and the last thing she heard before another explosive orgasm blasted her senses was a great roar echoing through the forest, like the cry of a wounded bear.
He collapsed over her, his chest heaving against her back. She could feel the effort it took a moment later to lift himself off and roll to the ground, taking her down on top of him. He pulled her to his sweat-drenched chest and wrapped his strong arms around her, drawing in big gulps of breath.
Her rapid breathing and racing heart finally slowed, and his pulse beat loud and steady under her cheek. He rested his chin against her temple and kissed her hair.
"--More than I knew it was possible to hate, " he softly said.
Chapter Four
Standing Bear sent his woman back to the wagons when the moon was near the horizon and the owl had returned from the hunt. He wanted to keep her with him all night. But it was too dangerous for them both. Even after this relatively short time, there would be questions from her sister and the others.
From the forest edge, he watched her skipping through the dark toward the circle of wagons, pivoting to walk backwards and wave to him one last time, wrapping his stolen shirt around her torn dress and luscious breasts, shooting one of her sweet kisses through the air like an arrow to pierce his heart.
He closed his eyes and hummed a low chant to ward off disaster. But it was too late. He knew it had already befallen him.
He had stepped in some steaming coyote shit this time.
How had it happened? To him of all the People of His Kind? He, Standing Bear, Club Men Warrior and sworn enemy of the whites, had been bewitched by a woman as pale as the stars above. A woman of the very enemy who had raped his mother and butchered his father.
Coyote must surely be laughing at him now.
He had wanted her as a captive, to use for his pleasure, to serve him in his youth and tend him in his old age. To make her bear his children in exchange for the lives of his parents. To keep her
She whimpered, beyond reason, beyond anything but surrendering to his unremitting sensual assault. "Yes, damn you! Yes!"
His fingers dove deep into her. She cried out, but his mouth was on hers, capturing the sound before she could betray them both. With his callused thumb, he circled the fiery nubbin at the center of her trembling desire. She clutched at him, her nails piercing the soft flannel on his back, shaking with the craving to once again feel his hard male weapon slay the moist, hungering need deep within her.
"And you hate me for making you crazy like this, " he said, low and rough. "Crazy for wanting something that is so forbidden to us both. Yet impossible to live without. "
His thumb swirled around her, bringing her to her knees. She clung to him and cried, "God, how I hate you!"
He followed her down, relentless. Her climax burst over her, merciless, violent, shudderingly intense.
"I hate you, too--" he said, his voice threaded with dark torment, wringing every last morsel of sensation from her limp and throbbing body. She held onto him like a capsized sailor clinging to his vessel.
He wrestled with his trousers and yanked them down his thighs, then peeled her off his body, turned her and pushed her to her hands and knees, swiftly moving behind her.
"--More than I've hated anything in my life--" he gritted out and mounted her, plunging his thick, iron-like rod straight into her.
She almost screamed in pleasure, digging her fingernails into the rich forest sod to brace herself against his fierce onslaught. His hands found her breasts, and his teeth found her neck. He thrust into her again, and again, making deep grunting sounds each time he rammed in to the hilt.
His body stiffened and the last thing she heard before another explosive orgasm blasted her senses was a great roar echoing through the forest, like the cry of a wounded bear.
He collapsed over her, his chest heaving against her back. She could feel the effort it took a moment later to lift himself off and roll to the ground, taking her down on top of him. He pulled her to his sweat-drenched chest and wrapped his strong arms around her, drawing in big gulps of breath.
Her rapid breathing and racing heart finally slowed, and his pulse beat loud and steady under her cheek. He rested his chin against her temple and kissed her hair.
"--More than I knew it was possible to hate, " he softly said.
Chapter Four
Standing Bear sent his woman back to the wagons when the moon was near the horizon and the owl had returned from the hunt. He wanted to keep her with him all night. But it was too dangerous for them both. Even after this relatively short time, there would be questions from her sister and the others.
From the forest edge, he watched her skipping through the dark toward the circle of wagons, pivoting to walk backwards and wave to him one last time, wrapping his stolen shirt around her torn dress and luscious breasts, shooting one of her sweet kisses through the air like an arrow to pierce his heart.
He closed his eyes and hummed a low chant to ward off disaster. But it was too late. He knew it had already befallen him.
He had stepped in some steaming coyote shit this time.
How had it happened? To him of all the People of His Kind? He, Standing Bear, Club Men Warrior and sworn enemy of the whites, had been bewitched by a woman as pale as the stars above. A woman of the very enemy who had raped his mother and butchered his father.
Coyote must surely be laughing at him now.
He had wanted her as a captive, to use for his pleasure, to serve him in his youth and tend him in his old age. To make her bear his children in exchange for the lives of his parents. To keep her
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