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Authors: E.B. Brown
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beneath the water again, bringing them to the surface when she thought her lungs might explode.
He easily deflected her blows as he laughed, finally stopping her onslaught by wrapping her in his arms and pressing her to his chest. Soaked through and shaking, uncertain if anger or amusement drove her, she relaxed her fists, suddenly aware of his alarming proximity. She uttered a half-laugh, half-choke and clutched his shoulders to keep her footing. The creek bed sand shifted easily beneath their feet, and he repositioned to a wider stance yet continued to hold her. His laugh eased when their eyes met. His clear, sparkling blue eyes reflected humor, which she could see rapidly changing into something more. She swallowed back her own unwelcome response, confused by the way his gaze sent a tingling down her spine.
“Have I silenced you yet, Tentay teh ?” he asked, his voice low and throaty. She meant to look away and laugh, but she only managed to shake her head. He called her Tentay teh often, and although she did not know the meaning, it sounded nice enough, so she did not mind.
“No. You can’t make me stop talking,” she whispered.
She regretted the words immediately, for she saw his eyes widen in surprise and a wicked grin creased his face.
“I must try harder, then,” he answered. Before she could object, his mouth closed gently over hers. She tasted sweet spiked cider as his tongue parted her lips, each caress sending shivers down deep through her belly. His fingers entwined in her hair as his lips became more urgent, insistent with need. She had been kissed before, but never like this, and she clearly recognized his desire as it matched her own. The water did nothing to hide his arousal, his breechcloth barely a barrier between them as she stood nestled against his thigh. Her soaked doeskin dress rode up her hips, and she was aware the thin hide clung to her breasts as he looked down upon her with hunger and his hand slid down to cup her buttock. She shuddered against his lips, ashamed of herself for melting in his arms but wishing he would never stop. His lip curled into a smile.
“See? I can make you stop talking,” he breathed against her mouth as he grinned.
Still shaking, her eyes flew open and she pulled away. The bastard! How dare he make fun of her now, reminding her yet again she was his captive? She tried to turn away to escape to the bank, but he held her tight, shaking his head. He glanced briefly over her shoulder, and then his eyes returned to capture hers.
“You’re an ass!” she whispered. The humiliation of being regarded as a piece of property swallowed any pleasure she felt in his arms.
“Perhaps. But my men watch, and I would not have them question what is mine.” She shivered when she looked toward the bank and saw he told the truth. Several of the warriors stood nearby with the women, talking and laughing as they watched the spectacle in the creek.
“I don’t belong to you,” she said, trying to keep her voice even.
He paused before he answered, his eyes glancing at the warriors and then back to her. She trembled when his palm tightened on her bottom and he pulled her closer as if he taunted her, enraged that his touch still sent lightening through her bones.
“Stop that!”
“You do not like it?”
“No! Yes – I mean no! Just stop it. This is crazy –”
His hungry mouth cut off her protest, and she flushed crimson knowing the other warriors watched his display of ownership. She raised her hand to push him off, but he grasped her wrist and placed it flat on his slippery chest. He spoke again, low and firm, his lips so close to her own shaking ones.
“Why do you defy me? Do women in your world refuse their men, or is it just you?”
The sincere question caused a surge of despair to swell, which overflowed to darken her gaze before she could stem it. The utter reality of her situation had been easy to put off for the last two days as she spent time with
He easily deflected her blows as he laughed, finally stopping her onslaught by wrapping her in his arms and pressing her to his chest. Soaked through and shaking, uncertain if anger or amusement drove her, she relaxed her fists, suddenly aware of his alarming proximity. She uttered a half-laugh, half-choke and clutched his shoulders to keep her footing. The creek bed sand shifted easily beneath their feet, and he repositioned to a wider stance yet continued to hold her. His laugh eased when their eyes met. His clear, sparkling blue eyes reflected humor, which she could see rapidly changing into something more. She swallowed back her own unwelcome response, confused by the way his gaze sent a tingling down her spine.
“Have I silenced you yet, Tentay teh ?” he asked, his voice low and throaty. She meant to look away and laugh, but she only managed to shake her head. He called her Tentay teh often, and although she did not know the meaning, it sounded nice enough, so she did not mind.
“No. You can’t make me stop talking,” she whispered.
She regretted the words immediately, for she saw his eyes widen in surprise and a wicked grin creased his face.
“I must try harder, then,” he answered. Before she could object, his mouth closed gently over hers. She tasted sweet spiked cider as his tongue parted her lips, each caress sending shivers down deep through her belly. His fingers entwined in her hair as his lips became more urgent, insistent with need. She had been kissed before, but never like this, and she clearly recognized his desire as it matched her own. The water did nothing to hide his arousal, his breechcloth barely a barrier between them as she stood nestled against his thigh. Her soaked doeskin dress rode up her hips, and she was aware the thin hide clung to her breasts as he looked down upon her with hunger and his hand slid down to cup her buttock. She shuddered against his lips, ashamed of herself for melting in his arms but wishing he would never stop. His lip curled into a smile.
“See? I can make you stop talking,” he breathed against her mouth as he grinned.
Still shaking, her eyes flew open and she pulled away. The bastard! How dare he make fun of her now, reminding her yet again she was his captive? She tried to turn away to escape to the bank, but he held her tight, shaking his head. He glanced briefly over her shoulder, and then his eyes returned to capture hers.
“You’re an ass!” she whispered. The humiliation of being regarded as a piece of property swallowed any pleasure she felt in his arms.
“Perhaps. But my men watch, and I would not have them question what is mine.” She shivered when she looked toward the bank and saw he told the truth. Several of the warriors stood nearby with the women, talking and laughing as they watched the spectacle in the creek.
“I don’t belong to you,” she said, trying to keep her voice even.
He paused before he answered, his eyes glancing at the warriors and then back to her. She trembled when his palm tightened on her bottom and he pulled her closer as if he taunted her, enraged that his touch still sent lightening through her bones.
“Stop that!”
“You do not like it?”
“No! Yes – I mean no! Just stop it. This is crazy –”
His hungry mouth cut off her protest, and she flushed crimson knowing the other warriors watched his display of ownership. She raised her hand to push him off, but he grasped her wrist and placed it flat on his slippery chest. He spoke again, low and firm, his lips so close to her own shaking ones.
“Why do you defy me? Do women in your world refuse their men, or is it just you?”
The sincere question caused a surge of despair to swell, which overflowed to darken her gaze before she could stem it. The utter reality of her situation had been easy to put off for the last two days as she spent time with
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