Song of the Raven (Daughters of the Prairie 3) - Page 36

Wandering Bear edged his horse nearer. “I see your wife is attracting attention.”

Raven replied to Bear in words Ella didn’t understand, and then said, “I will take you to my tipi.”

“Shouldn’t we meet your father first? Or your mother? I really should pay my respect to them. Or…oh goodness, I’m afraid I don’t know the correct etiquette for this situation. My mother would be mortified. She prided herself on teaching me how to behave in any circumstance, but I fear she neglected this one.”

Raven’s husky chuckle hummed in Ella’s ears. “My mother and father can wait. Bear will tell them we are here. For now, I will take you to my tipi.”

“But why?”

“You know why, tehila. I can wait not one minute longer to hold you, make love to you.”

Ella trembled, and her skin rippled with awareness as she recalled the passion of their first joining.

She couldn’t wait a minute longer either.

* * *

Colored triangles and a painting of a raven covered the door flap to Raven’s tipi.

“This is the place I’ve been assigned in the tribal circle, tehila.” He pointed to a lodge with a bear painted on the door cover. “That is Bear’s. Farther down is my parents’ lodge. My sister, Singing Dove, lives with them.

“I’m anxious to meet all of them,” Ella said. She shivered inside. She was anxious—afraid and anxious. She hoped her pulse would settle down when the time came.

As nervous as she was, her pulse raced now for a different reason. Raven helped her off his horse—Golden Feather was his name—and tied him to a post in back of the tipi. He led Ella through the colorful opening.

Inside, to the left of the doorway, lay a stack of firewood. In the middle of the dwelling, round gray stones surrounded a fireplace. Directly across from the opening was a bed covered in buffalo furs.

There, she and Raven would make love. Her heart sped, and she smiled. “I love it here. It’s so cozy.”

He grinned, and his raw male beauty tugged at her belly. So handsome, her Indian husband, with his bronze skin, full dusky lips, and hard muscled body.

“I am glad you like it,” he said, taking her arm and leading her to the left, around in a circle. “When we have children, we will have a bigger lodge, but for now, this will do well for us.”

“It’s so interesting, to live in a circle. I’ve always lived in a cabin, which is square.”

“The circle represents the earth beneath the heavens,” Raven said. “The walls of the tipi represent the sky, and the poles that hold the tipi up are pathways that link us with the Great Spirit.”

Ella’s cheeks warmed. “I never thought of my home in quite such a reverent way, Raven. That’s beautiful.”

“We give thanks to the Great Spirit with all that we do, including the tipis we live in,” Raven said. “It is our way.”

“It’s a very good way. A home should be sacred. All about our lives should be sacred. Our lives are a gift from God. Too many people forget that.” Ella gazed into Raven’s dark, mesmerizing eyes. They burned. For her. “I think I will like living with your people. I like your philosophy.”

“Fil-ah-so-fee?”

“Your way of explaining things. It makes me feel warm inside. It makes…sense.” She smiled. “I wish I could say it in a prettier way. I’m afraid words aren’t my strong suit. I was never very good at composition in school. I was better with numbers.”

“I think you use words very well, my tehila.” He pulled her close, his gaze burning into hers. “Right now, there are only three words I want to hear from you, and I will say them first. Techi’ hhila. I love you, Ella.”

Her skin heated and prickled, as though a blazing inferno burned in the fireplace in the center of the dwelling. But the fireplace was bare. Only Raven’s nearness scalded her. He moved closer and touched his forehead to hers. Energy—so palpable Ella could almost see it—crackled between them. Raw, feral, and steaming. Raven lowered his head and took her lips in a scorching kiss. She sighed into his questing mouth—he tasted dark and dangerous, but also like home. Sweet, soothing home.

His calloused fingers stroked her cheeks, cupped them, and he devoured her with his lips, his teeth, his tongue. His moan hummed into her, and she responded with her own sighs of desire.

Her body blazed, and her clothes were suddenly an encumbrance. She wanted to fling them off, touch her naked body to his, lose herself in his raw male power until her soul became part of him.

She whimpered when his mouth trailed from hers and pressed moist kisses to her cheek, then below her ear.

“The words, tehila,” he whispered, his breath hot against her flesh. His fingers crept down her cheeks, her neck, to cup and squeeze her full breasts. “Say the words.”

Tags: Helen Hardt Daughters of the Prairie Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net
readsnovelonline.net Copyright 2016 - 2024