Wild Embrace

Four Winds hugged Strong Heart tightly. Then he stepped away from him to hug Elizabeth. Then he walked away, his chin lifted with dignity and pride.

“There goes a good man,” Strong Heart said softly. As the drums drifted into silence in the distance, Strong Heart playfully lifted Elizabeth up into his arms and began carrying her toward his longhouse .

“The true celebration begins now,” he said huskily. molding one of Elizabeth’s breasts with his palm. “You are not too tired, my la-daila, to partake in our private celebration of life and love?”

Elizabeth lay her cheek against his chest. “I will never be too tired for you, my love,” she murmured, knowing that was true. From the depths of her being, that was true.

* * *

As Four Winds made his way toward his horse that was waiting with the others in the corral beneath the stars, his steps were light, his heart filled with thanks, and much love toward his friend, Strong Heart. Never could any man find such d

evotion in a friend—such unwavering loyalty. And Four Winds knew that even if he tried until the day he died, he could never find enough ways to repay Strong Heart for his kindness to him.

Four Winds’s footsteps suddenly faltered and his breath quickened when he heard muffled voices coming from somewhere close by. Since everyone had retired to their dwellings, this made him suspicious of anyone who might be outside.

He moved stealthily toward the sound of the voices, staying hidden behind trees until he found a group of braves huddled behind a boulder, the moon’s glow not yet reaching them.

But Four Winds did not need the moon to identify the men. He knew their voices, each and every one of them.

He pressed his back against a towering elm tree, and leaned his head closer to the speakers, growing cold inside over what these men were plotting without the consent of their chief or his son.

It could bring the total wrath of the white community down on the Suquamish village.

He did not intervene, knowing they would not listen to him. He learned that the braves wanted to travel to Seattle, and once and for all burn the old house that sat on the hallowed ground of their ancestors. They were also going to rid the land of the fishery that was a threat to their future, and the white man who had brought so much sorrow into their lives.

* * *

Silkenly nude, Elizabeth reached her arms out for Strong Heart as he washed the last of the glittering mica from his face. “Come to me, my love,” she said, her voice foreign to her in her need to touch his sleek body. His arousal was quite evident as his manhood stood erect, like a gleaming, velvet rod.

Strong Heart tossed the cloth aside, his heart pounding hard within his chest at the mere sight of Elizabeth. Her opened arms beckoning to him promised much that made his heart sing. Strong Heart paused a moment longer to take in the loveliness of her.

His gaze burned upon her bare skin as he looked at her perfect breasts with their taut nipples and tantalizing cleavage, her slim and exquisite waist, and her hips so invitingly rounded.

His eyes stopped and rested on her central tuft of hair at the seam of her thighs. His hand circled his throbbing shaft as he moved to his knees and straddled her.

“Place your hands where mine is,” he said huskily, sucking in a breath of pleasure as she did as he asked. He withdrew his own hand and threw his head back and groaned as her fingers moved up and down, making him feel as though he might explode within her fingers, the longing was so powerful.

And when he felt her mouth on him, her tongue sensually stroking him, he stiffened and had to place his hands to her shoulders to urge her away from him, for another moment of such wonderful kisses and he would no longer be able to hold himself back.

Strong Heart settled himself over her, his tongue brushing her lips lightly. He then pressed his lips softly against hers as he entered her in one thrust. His lean, sinewy buttocks moved, her hips lifted to welcome their even strokes. His hands went to her breasts, stroking and kneading them, as his mouth seized hers, darting his moist tongue between her lips.

And then his mouth moved from her lips to her breasts, as he kissed first one nipple, and then the other. Then he sucked the nipples hungrily.

Overcome by passion, Elizabeth gave a little cry. Again his lips were on hers, silencing her with a fiery kiss, his thrusts becoming more heated, driving harder inside her.

She clung to him, this raging hunger that always came from being with him being wonderfully fed. She knew that his hunger was as great as hers, in the hard, seeking pressure of his lips as he continued kissing her, his steel arms enfolding her.

An incredible sweetness swept through her then, and her body exploded in spasms of desire just as his own body quaked against hers.

After the tempest had subsided, they lay in each other’s arms, their passion having given way to peace. Elizabeth scooted closer to him and kissed his brow. “After we are married, will you still find such bliss within my arms?” she whispered. “Can a love like ours last forever, Strong Heart? Can it?”

He caressed her skin lightly with his fingertips. “Even after thirty-seven winters I shall still desire you,” he whispered huskily. “So shall you, Strong Heart.”

“Even after we are grandparents of perhaps even a thirty-year-old grandson?” she said, giggling at the thought, hard to envision herself that old, and finding it even harder to envision Strong Heart as anything but young and virile. Even his father was still a handsome man in that he did not seem to be in his fifty-sixth winter of age.

Her man would remain ageless, especially within the deepest recesses of her heart.

“Even after we are grandparents of many grandchildren.” Strong Heart said, drawing a blanket over them as the wind whipped suddenly down the smoke hole.