Savage Tempest

Or would he marvel at her being there? Would he come to her and welcome her in ways that she was longing to experience with him?

Just watching him, being this close to him in the water, caused her to freeze. And then suddenly it was too late to leave.

High Hawk had stopped suddenly, his eyes on her.

“Joylynn?” he said, his eyes widening. He reached his hands to his wet hair and smoothed it back from his face. “Joylynn, you are so far from the village. Did you come this far because of me? How did you know where I was?”

“I decided to take a swim,” Joylynn murmured as he swam toward her, his eyes never leaving her. “I guess . . . I . . . swam much farther than I realized. I had no idea you were here. I thought I was swimming where I could be alone.”

He swam to her, then stood up, his eyes searching hers. “Do you not understand the danger of what you have done?” he asked, reaching a hand out to her. “It might have been another man in the sweat lodge, not the man who loves you.”

“But it is you,” Joylynn said, her voice sounding strange to her. She was feeling emotions that she had never felt before in her entire life.

“Ho, it is I,” High Hawk said, smiling slowly at her.

His arms went around her and drew her against his body, where she could feel every inch of his flesh, even that part of him that she most definitely did not fear.

Instead, she ached to have him inside her. She needed him. Here was someone who could fill her every need and desire.

This was someone she loved with all her heart!

And . . . he . . . loved her!

“I love you so,” she murmured, melting inside when he brought his lips down on hers in a passionate kiss. His arms held her so tightly against him, she could feel his heartbeat blending with her own.

Both were pounding hard.

Their bodies strained against each other.

Their lips trembled with the emotion that was awakened within them.

And then High Hawk suddenly pulled Joylynn fully into his arms and carried her to the shore near his makeshift lodge.

He found a place of soft moss beneath a willow tree and spread Joylynn out upon it, then knelt down over her, straddling her with his knees.

“I have wanted you in this way for so long,” High Hawk said, brushing her wet hair back from her face. “Have you wanted me as much? I have seen it in your eyes. I have heard it in your voice, that you did.”

“I did not know that such a want . . . a need . . . existed until I met you,” Joylynn said, reaching up and touching his thick black hair, then twining her arms around his neck.

“Are you saying that you want . . . to . . . make love?” he asked huskily, his eyes searching hers. “You want me in that way?”

“Oh, Lord, yes, yes, yes,” Joylynn cried, her eyes closing in rapture as he slid a hand over one of her breasts, cupping it, causing an exquisite sensation of bliss.

Her head was spinning with ecstasy, especially when he lowered his lips to that breast and flicked the nipple with his tongue.

Joylynn was aware of a tingling sensation that filled her very being. The feel of his lips and tongue on her breast was wonderful.

He lifted his head and gazed into her eyes. “Are you well enough to do this?” he asked, proving again to Joylynn the gentle man that he was.

She had already given herself over to him, yet he hesitated and wanted to make sure she was able to make love after the miscarriage.

“Ho, yes, I am very well,” she murmured. “Oh, High Hawk, do make love to me.”

He needed no more encouragement. He had waited so long for this moment. From the first time he had seen her that night in the moonlight, he knew that only she could satisfy the part of him that had been so long unfed.

And he was right. As she clung to him, her every secret place became his. He swept a hand down between them and found her hot, moist center.

And when she wrapped her legs around his waist, as though knowing what he needed, he took his manhood in one of his hands and slowly slid his heat up inside her warm, waiting folds.