Page 82 of The Last Warrior

He laughed, not knowing if she might share in his joke. Somehow, however, he thought not.

She said, “What is funny?”

Black Lion came up onto his forearms over her, and he grinned at this woman, to whom he had given his heart so thoroughly. “At some later time, I will tell you about the workings of a man, and how a man might sometimes literally take matters into his own hands.”

Though she was too innocent to understand his meaning, she smiled up at him.

“But tell me, are you suggesting what I think you are?” he asked, and if his voice were a little seductive, he could not very well be blamed for it. While he had brought her to the peak of her pleasure, he had yet to meet his.

“Yes, I am.” She glanced down at him. “I believe, however, that you still have on too many clothes for where my thoughts tend.”

He gazed downward. “So I do.” As he sat up, he began to tug at the strings that held his breechcloth and leggings in place. “This is, indeed, a lucky day for me.”

Her laugh was soft, feminine, completely sensual, and he felt himself stir to life more vigorously than ever.

At last he had untied the strings which held up his breechcloth and leggings, and the soft buckskin fell gently onto the blanket of their mat.

He then came down to lay over her, and using his forearms, he kept himself from leaning into her.

Her glance skimmed down to the particular portion of his body that declared him male, then she looked quickly back up at him, and with eyes slightly rounded, she said, “I know I said this once before, but…you are big.”

This time he did laugh. “Only at times like this. Come, it might be easier for you if I were to lie down by your side.”

She nodded, and she scooted over to make room for him. “May I…may I touch…you…there?”

Ah, how he enjoyed this. “It is my hope you will do so.”

His grin was one of complete happiness as he brought his weight to the side of her, aware that he was finding more and more reason to love this woman.

Then she touched him, and his seed practically burst from him.

“Should I kiss you like you have done to me?”

“I would be most honored.”

She didn’t appear to need further inducement, for she began to make love to him at once, running her fingertips over his face, his neck, down to his chest. He groaned with appreciation, pleased to observe that the sounds he made seemed to give her confidence.

Onward and downward she proceeded. Now it was his turn to squirm, for even this simple action nearly drove him over the edge.

But then she was scooting lower, her breasts touching him in so many intimate places. He sucked in his breath, hoping for control. And then she touched him there, first with her fingers, then with her tongue. He moaned, jerking upward involuntarily.

Oh, how he would love nothing more than to bury himself into the soft warmth which was hers. But of course, given her condition, he could not.

It was odd how no sooner had the thought occurred to him, than she was giving to him what he most needed. It was within this moment when he forgot all about burying himself within her. This was quite enough.

In fact, all at once, he pulled himself away from her and emptied his seed against her abdomen.

His spirit soared, for he realized a very deep secret. Only a woman genuinely in love with a man would perform such a duty.

She loved him.

She didn’t have to tell him, she might never tell him. It was enough to simply know. And, like a crazy man, he couldn’t keep himself from smiling.

“Hmm,” he said, as he rolled to her side, keeping her well within his arms. “Hmm, I have only this to say to you, my wife. Cante’kiyusa.”

“Oh? What does that mean?”

“It means that for good or for ill, I hold you in my heart. I give you my love, and I hope in the future I will earn yours.”