The Savage - Page 53

Lance glanced pointedly at his sleeping nephews; she could see him in the faint glow of the smoldering fire Short Dress had lit for the night. “I thought I told you to get some sleep.”

/> “I couldn’t. Not until I learned what happened.”

His mouth curved in a faint smile as he said quietly, “Fights Bear demanded twice the fee in money and horses, but he agreed to help. He means to send out emissaries tomorrow to search neighboring bands for Amelia.”

Bowing her head, Summer felt a sob of relief well in her throat. It was a full minute later before she had control of herself enough to thank Lance.

“Thank me when your sister is safe.” He sounded tired. When she looked up, she could see that he was removing his leggings. “Go to sleep, Summer. There’s nothing more you can do tonight.”

A vast weariness overtook her as she realized he was right. Obediently she lay down on the pallet and pulled a buffalo pelt up over her.

“Not like that, princess. Take off your clothes first.”

She turned her head to stare uncertainly at him in the dim light.

“Kwasutu will think it strange if I let you share my bed fully dressed.”

“What…should I wear, then?”

The faint curl of his mouth told her the answer she dreaded. And yet she wasn’t prepared to argue. If following Comanche customs was the price she had to pay, even if it meant sleeping naked with her husband, she would do it.

Wrapping a robe around her as a shield, Summer awkwardly removed her moccasins and leggings and deerskin dress. Lance stood over her, waiting, but she refused to look at him, knowing he was completely naked.

Finally, unable to delay any longer, she stretched out again and lay there rigidly. In silence Lance slid in beside her and pulled the pelts up over them both.

What shocked her, though, was how, without a word, he compelled her to roll over on her side with her back to him, and curled his arm around her waist, drawing her tense body back against his.

Summer caught her breath in a soft gasp. His bare skin was sleek and hot as a furnace, his manhood hard and throbbing against her buttocks.

“Relax, princess,” he murmured, his warm breath teasing her ear. “I told you you’re safe from me. Go to sleep.”

Summer forced herself to close her eyes. Lance wasn’t going to claim his rights as her husband tonight. He’d said he didn’t intend to make love to her until this ordeal was over, and he was a man of his word. Even if physically his body was clamoring for hers. Even if physically her body was beginning to feel the same wanton urges.

Summer exhaled slowly, trying to relax as he’d commanded. He’d said she would be safe from him. The only trouble was, that was no longer what she wanted, to be safe.

She could feel Lance’s heat enveloping her, scalding her skin, could smell his hot, musky maleness. His thick shaft pressed blatantly against her buttocks, nestling in the backs of her thighs. Her pulse had quickened to a hammering beat, while desire curled like a coiled spring inside her.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Summer found herself wondering, scandalously, if Lance could take her from behind, like a stallion takes a mare. What would it be like to have him thrusting into her? If she moved the slightest inch…

Hardly daring to breathe, she shifted, pressing back against him, into his tantalizing warmth.

Her movement played havoc with Lance’s control. Having Summer naked and restless in his arms was sheer hell, even worse than he figured it would be. Her twitching was enough to drive him wild; her tight little fanny rubbing against his groin was pure torture.

She was definitely aroused, he knew. And whether consciously or not, she was trying to arouse him.

Determinedly Lance ground his teeth. He wouldn’t give in to her teasing. This was all a game to Summer. She was testing her power over him, pulling his strings like all the other fawning puppets she called her beaux. His body might be betraying his need, but he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of falling for her tricks.

Then again…maybe it was time she got a taste of her own medicine.

After another moment of deliberation—of enduring her silken bottom pressing against his throbbing erection—Lance reached his hand to cup her right breast in his callused palm.

Summer went rigid, her gasp loud in the firelit darkness.

Her nipple had peaked instantly, and Lance found incredible pleasure in running his thumb over the tight bud. His touch featherlight, his fingers closed over the quivering nipple, gently squeezing, pinching, torturing her until her breast pressed wantonly against his stroking palm, until she arched instinctively against his caress.

“Do you like this, princess?”

Her reply was barely audible, a breathless moan.

Tags: Nicole Jordan Historical
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