White Fire

Flame’s lips parted in a light gasp. Her eyes widened. “We can’t,” she said, her voice quavering with emotion. “Don’t you see, White Fire? When Father finds out that we’re married, and that we did it behind his back, he will find a way to annul the marriage.”

She drifted into his arms and clung to him. “Please wait for just a while longer,” she murmured. “I will find a way soon to convince Father how much I love you.”

“But there is not much time,” White Fire said, placing his hands at her waist, gently easing her away from him. He gazed intently into her eyes. “Who is to say how quickly your father will be ordered from Fort Snelling?” he said. “If he is not court-martialed, or at least arrested, and is, instead free, he will be out for blood. Mine.”

“He wouldn’t dare harm you,” Flame said, her voice tight. “He won’t harm you.”

She twined her arms around his neck and brought his mouth down to hers. She flicked her tongue across his bottom lip, then kissed him with an unleashed passion.

He was unable to stop himself from this need that had eaten away at his gut from that first moment he had seen Flame step from the riverboat when she had first arrived at the Minnesota Territory. Tired of delaying their togetherness, White Fire stepped away from Flame and reached out his arms and swept her fully into them.

Their eyes locked, their hearts pounding, he carried her to his bedroom and started to lay her on the bed, but she clung to him, preventing it.

“Please don’t lay me on the bed unless you plan to make love to me,” she murmured, her eyes wavering at his as she recalled how he had earlier fought against making love to her. “White Fire, I love you so much. Please show me how much you love me.”

Not having to be asked twice, his loins on fire and aching with building ecstasy, he gently laid her on the bed. Then he stood up beside it, and as Flame watched, he undressed.

His clothes and moccasins tossed aside, White Fire stood there for a moment to see her reaction to his total nudity . . . to his arousal that was so evident. He could tell by her eyes, by how wide they were as she gazed at that part of his anatomy which pained him so from need, that she had most certainly never seen a naked man before. He was glad that he didn’t see fear in her eyes. Instead there was an innocence in that first look at a man’s sex.

Flame could hardly control the erratic beat of her heart that seeing him nude caused. His body was so hard, so ready. A part of her was afraid of his hugeness. Another part of her could only imagine how such endowment could pleasure a woman.

She had read books her mother had tried to deny her as she had grown up. She had been curious and in need of answers to the strange feelings that were stirring within her body as her breasts had begun to blossom and tiny curls of hair had begun to sprout at the juncture of her thighs. Although she had never seen pictures of a naked man, while feeding her curiosity with the books obtained from other friends, who had obtained them from the hidden drawers of their mothers’ bedrooms, she had read about how a man should look. Also, while reading the forbidden literature, she had felt the thrill of how it might feel to have a man touch her where she had strangely throbbed.

Now, here it was, instead of being confined to the pages of a book. Flame was aglow with the passion that made her head reel with pleasure.

Without any more undue hesitation, Flame rose from the bed and stood facing White Fire as she slowly unbuttoned her blouse.

She watched the need darken his eyes as she opened her blouse and fully revealed her well-rounded, thick breasts to him.

Her heart pounded as her own desire surged. She tossed her blouse aside, feeling nothing even akin to shame for being so brazenly bold while in the presence of a man. She reached around and undid her skirt at the back. Then she slowly slid it down past her hips and let it fall to rest around her ankles on the floor.

Breathing hard, her fingers trembled as she finished disrobing then stood square shouldered and still as White Fire’s gaze raked slowly, approvingly, over her.

Suddenly he swept her up into his arms again. His eyes locked with hers, he again placed her on the bed. The startling beauty of her naked body had made a fiery fever in his loins.

And now, as her hair spread out like a huge red blossom beneath her, he trembled and knelt down over her.

The white of her skin meeting the copper of his, his lips brushing her throat, she bent under him.

Then he kissed her, hotly, deeply, his hands on her breasts, kneading. His senses swam as he felt the utter softness of her breasts and felt the nipples harden at once against his palms.

Flame abandoned herself to the wondrous feelings that were awash throughout her. There was only now. There was only them. There were only the wonders of touching, throbbing, burning!

But when she felt the velvet tightness of his heat probing where no man had been before, she could not help but grow tense with apprehension. The books she had read had warned of a moment of pain upon the man’s first entry into a woman.

White Fire felt her body tighten and her breath catch. He swept his hands up to her face. He gazed endearingly into her eyes. “Trust me,” he whispered. “What we are about to share is worth your brief moment of pain.”

Eyes wide, her pulse racing, Flame swallowed hard, then nodded. “Hold me,” she murmured.

He gathered her into his arms. He held her with an exquisite tenderness, as though she might be a delicate flower whose stem might break. He brought his mouth down on her lips and kissed her.

The press of his lips, so mesmerizing, so warm, made Flame forget why she had only moments before been tense with apprehension. She returned the kiss with a wild abandon. She opened her legs more widely to him when she felt him begin to slowly enter her.

Her whole body quivered and she moaned when the moment of pain grabbed at her consciousness.

Then, when he buried himself more deeply inside her, placing his maleness perfectly within her, he fell into a wild, dizzying rhythm with the slow thrusting of his pelvis. Her heart soared. As he moved within her, she learned quickly that the feelings of ecstasy were intensified if she lifted her own hips and moved with him.

Her spasmodic gasps filled the air as he filled her, over and over again, his powerful hips thrusting, her hips gyrating in rhythm with his movements.