Wind Rider by Connie Mason Read Free Book Online Page B

called whore.” His finger slid deeper and Hannah gasped, squirming to accommodate the foreign object into her narrow passage. “Do not fear, Little Sparrow; I am capable of giving you pleasure if I so desire. Did you receive pleasure from the others, or was their coin more important to you than their manhood?”
    Hannah paled. “No, please ... I’m not a whore. Where did you hear that? Don’t do this to me. I’ll be your slave, I’ll work hard, but don’t rape me.”
    If Hannah did not remember him, he wasn’t going to tell her that he’d seen her in Denver many moons ago. ”A slave is less than dirt,” Wind Rider spat, so desperate to thrust himself inside her that his heart was thumping wildly against his ribs. ‘1 can use you in any way I desire. If you do not please me, I can kill you.”
    “I’d prefer you killed me,” Hannah said soft ly. Abruptly, the building pressure inside her eased as Wind Rider removed his finger.
    “You’d prefer death to me? Is lying with an Indian so repulsive to you?”
    Hannah swallowed convulsively, searching her heart for an answer. Truth be known, Wind Rider wasn’t repulsive at all. It frightened her to think she’d even consider bedding with the heathen savage. She’d always assumed that one day she’d many; lacking worldly goods, she intended to give the gift of her virginity to her bridegroom. After her period of indenture she’d be free to live her own life, find a mate, and settle down to raise a family. Maybe in time she could bring some of her younger brothers and sisters to America. What she hadn’t counted on was a vicious master like Mr. Harley, or being taken captive by Indians.
    “Answer me,” Wind Rider repeated. “Is death preferable to bedding an Indian?”
    “Yes!” Hannah shouted recklessly. “If you rape me, I’ll find a way to kill you and then myself.” They were fearless words, spoken in the heat of passion.
    Wind Rider went still. It seemed inconceiv able that a whore would prefer death to lying with a man, Indian or no. He was sorely tempted to grant her wish. His hand curled around the hilt of his hunting knife and he slowly drew it forth. Hannah had no idea what he intended until the sharp point pricked the skin at the base of her neck and she felt the warm trickle of blood.
    “Go ahead,” she taunted, tossing caution to the wind. Wouldn’t death be preferable to enforced slavery? Having to answer to a master like Wind Rider would test her sorely. She must never let down her guard and forget that her captor was a vicious savage. Wind Rider had already threatened to give her to his friends if she didn’t please him.
    Impressed by her courage, Wind Rider’s grip on the blade eased. How could a little brown sparrow possess such amazing forti tude? he wondered. She had goaded him beyond restraint and still he wanted her. And, Hannah who is willing, he’d have her. Only it wouldn’t be rape. He would slow ly destroy her will until she willingly—nay, eagerly—spread her legs for him, submitting to him just as she had submitted to the white men she had welcomed into her bed. He would bring her to passion slowly, with great expertise, until she panted for want of him. And after he’d had her he’d give her to his friends to use for their pleasure. He must never forget that Hannah belonged to a race he hated passionately.
    Wind Rider smiled, pleased with the picture he’d just painted in his mind. Deep in his heart he knew something was flawed with the image, but he buried it deep inside him, intending to face the problem when the need arose. The knife slipped from his fingers to the ground.
    Hannah knew the moment Wind Rider decid ed to spare her life. The pressure on her neck eased and she could feel the tenseness leave his body. “I will have you, Little Spar row,” Wind Rider vowed. “When it pleases me. Right now you do not tempt me. Your bones are so sharp, they will likely puncture my flesh.”
    Wind Rider smiled at