Page 79 of Savage Illusions

Spotted Eag­le par­ted her legs with a knee and her body tur­ned li­qu­id and her bre­ath was mo­men­ta­rily sto­len away as he plun­ged his har­d­ness wit­hin her and be­gan his rhythmic stro­kes.

His arms swept aro­und her and an­c­ho­red her as he ca­me to her, thrus­ting de­eply. To Jole­na it had se­emed an eter­nity sin­ce they had be­en af­for­ded the pri­vacy of be­ing to­get­her in such a way.

But ne­ver had she for­got­ten the gol­den web of ma­gic that they spun bet­we­en them as they ma­de lo­ve.

Spotted Eag­le kis­sed her hun­g­rily, re­ve­ling in the swe­et warm press of her body. He drank in her gro­ans of ple­asu­re, fi­ring his pas­si­on­s­pas­si­ons that had la­in smol­de­ring just be­ne­ath the sur­fa­ce as he wa­ited to be with her aga­in in this way. He felt the curl of warmth he­ating up and gro­wing in his lo­wer body, and his world mel­ted away as he felt her hands swe­ep down his spi­ne in a soft ca­ress.

He mo­ved his thrusts pur­po­sely slo­wer wit­hin her, wan­ting to sa­vor the­se mo­ments un­til he co­uld not help but al­low the red-hot em­bers of de­si­re ex­p­lo­de in­to every cell of his body.

He clung to her and pla­ced his lips to the slen­der, cur­ving length of her thro­at and lic­ked her flesh that was as swe­et as ho­ney.

His fin­gers dug in­to the soft cus­hi­on of her but­tocks, hol­ding her in­to the cur­ve of his body as on­ce aga­in he be­gan his eager thrusts that be­ca­me fas­ter, plun­ged mo­re de­eply.

Jolena's bre­ath qu­ic­ke­ned as se­aring, scor­c­hing fla­mes shot thro­ugh her, her sen­ses re­eling. She so­ught his mo­uth with wild aban­don and kis­sed him with qu­ive­ring lips as she shud­de­red and ar­c­hed, her cli­max swe­eping thro­ugh her li­ke mil­li­ons of tiny fla­mes.

That fe­eling of whi­te he­at tra­ve­led thro­ugh Spot­ted Eag­le's ve­ins as well, from the tip of his to­es thro­ugh the si­news of his thighs and up­ward, then le­apt with a

cry from the depths of his thro­at as the ex­p­lo­si­on of ec­s­tasy rus­hed thro­ugh him. He drew Jole­na in­to his arms and hug­ged her to him as his body sho­ok aga­inst hers, sen­ding his se­ed in vi­olent spurts of warmth in­to her womb.

When the­ir ple­asu­re was fully spent, they clung to­get­her, the­ir bre­aths min­g­ling as they on­ce aga­in kis­sed, this ti­me wit­ho­ut ur­gency, but with swe­et­ness.

Then they rol­led apart.

Jolena lay on her back be­si­de Spot­ted Eag­le, her che­eks flus­hed, her he­art still throb­bing from ple­asu­re.

Spotted Eag­le lay on his si­de, his eyes clo­sed, not wan­ting to let go of this ple­asu­re. "My wo­man, did re­ality sur­pass the fe­elings you sha­red with me in yo­ur dre­am?" he as­ked, re­ac­hing a hand to cup one of her bre­asts. "Or was it bet­ter to dre­am than to do?"

Jolena tur­ned to him and tra­ced his lips with a fo­re­fin­ger. "Both my dre­ams and be­ing with you in re­ality are won­der­ful,'' she mur­mu­red. She mo­ved to her kne­es and be­gan kis­sing his flesh, star­ting with the hol­low of his thro­at and mo­ving slowly dow­n­ward. "But, dar­ling, you are ab­le to do much mo­re than my mind wo­uld ever co­nj­ure up."

She pa­used and ga­zed up at him. "And how is it for you, my dar­ling?" she mur­mu­red. "Wo­uld you rat­her I le­ave you alo­ne so that you can sle­ep and se­arch for me in yo­ur dre­ams? Or wo­uld you rat­her open yo­ur eyes and see what I am abo­ut to do?"

Spotted Eag­le tho­ught her vo­ice se­emed mo­re te­asingly husky than he ever re­mem­be­red he­aring it be­fo­re. He ope­ned his eyes and ga­zed down at her, then suc­ked in a wild bre­ath as she sank her lips over his shrun­ken man­ho­od, bre­at­hing li­fe in­to it aga­in as it qu­ickly sprang for­ward, thick and full.

She ple­asu­red him in this way for a mo­ment lon­ger, then he rol­led her on­to her back and en­te­red her aga­in, this ti­me ra­pidly re­ac­hing that ul­ti­ma­te of ple­asu­re. They clung and sho­ok and sig­hed when it hap­pe­ned, then drew qu­ickly away when they he­ard the so­und of drums be­ating out a ste­ady rhythm out­si­de the te­pee, and he­ard chil­d­ren la­ug­hing and wo­men sin­ging. The aro­ma of co­ok fi­res waf­ted down from the smo­ke ho­le in the te­pee.

"The vil­la­ge is stir­ring. The ce­leb­ra­ti­on will be­gin so­on," Spot­ted Eag­le sa­id, gi­ving Jole­na a hand as he hel­ped her up from the­ir bed of furs. "Let us dress in our fi­nest clot­hes and jo­in the ot­hers. The­re will be much sin­ging, dan­cing, eating, and story-tel­ling. It will be a day that will stay fresh in one's mind when the long days and nights of win­ter co­me and ever­yo­ne stays in­si­de be­si­de the­ir fi­res."

"I'm so glad that the buf­fa­lo run was a suc­cess," Jole­na sa­id, slip­ping her do­es­kin dress over her he­ad. She tur­ned her back to Spot­ted Eag­le, al­lo­wing him to brush, then bra­id her ha­ir.

"Ah, yes, it was a go­od day for buf­fa­lo," Spot­ted Eag­le sa­id as he slowly, al­most me­di­ta­tingly, be­gan bra­iding her ha­ir. "The Blac­k­fo­ot are a ra­ce of me­at-eaters. Whi­le we do kill lar­ge qu­an­ti­ti­es of ot­her ga­me, we still de­pend for our sub­sis­ten­ce on the buf­fa­lo. This ani­mal pro­vi­des us with al­most all that we ne­ed in the way of fo­od, clot­hing, and shel­ter, and whi­le we con­ti­nue to ha­ve an abun­dan­ce of buf­fa­lo, we shall con­ti­nue li­ving in com­fort."

Her ha­ir now bra­ided, Jole­na han­ded Spot­ted Eag­le a lo­vely be­aded nec­k­la­ce to pla­ce aro­und her neck. Af­ter it was lat­c­hed, she tur­ned to him and ga­zed at how han­d­so­me he was in his frin­ged hi­de clot­hes, re­mem­be­ring how stun­ned she had be­en that first ti­me she had se­en him, when he se­emed to ha­ve step­ped right out of her dre­ams!

"Shall we jo­in the ot­hers out­si­de our te­pee?" she as­ked softly. She had not se­en Kirk sin­ce he had left Spot­ted Eag­le's te­pee in an­ger. As long as she had known that he was be­ing well ca­red for, that had be­en eno­ugh to ke­ep her from wor­rying ne­ed­les­sly abo­ut him. But now she wo­uld ha­ve to fa­ce him aga­in.

"Your tho­ughts carry you far away," Spot­ted Eag­le sa­id, dra­wing Jole­na out of her re­ve­rie.

"Yes, I know," Jole­na sa­id, her eyes wa­ve­ring up in­to his. "I was thin­king of Kirk and al­so of Mo­on Flo­wer. Su­rely we will see them both so­me­ti­me to­day du­ring the long ce­leb­ra­ti­on."

"And it wo­uld dis­p­le­ase you to see yo­ur whi­te brot­her?" Spot­ted Eag­le sa­id, his eyes se­ar­c­hing her fa­ce for an­s­wers.

"No, dar­ling," Jole­na mur­mu­red. "It's not that at all. It's just that I don't know what to ex­pect of him when he se­es me and you to­get­her. He might say things to hurt you. Ple­ase don't let his words hurt you, Spot­ted Eag­le. They will be tho­se of a brot­her who fe­ars lo­sing a sis­ter. He will one day un­der­s­tand and wish both of us a happy fu­tu­re."

Spotted Eag­le did not reply. He swept an arm aro­und Jole­na's wa­ist and whis­ked her from the te­pee. They wal­ked slowly thro­ugh the vil­la­ge, ob­ser­ving the ga­i­ety.

Spotted Eag­le's chest swel­led with pri­de as he lo­oked at ever­y­t­hing and ever­yo­ne. The vil­la­ge was such a happy pla­ce at ti­mes li­ke this. Ever­y­w­he­re was he­ard the so­und of drums and song and dan­cing.

" Wo- ka-hit! Lis­ten," the pe­op­le sa­id. " Wo-ka-hit! Lis­ten! Mah-kwe-i-ke-tum-ok-ah-wah-hit! Ke­tuk-ka-puk-si-pim, You are to fe­ast! En­ter my te­pee with yo­ur fri­ends!" He­re a man was lying back on a blan­ket just out­si­de his te­pee, sin­ging and drum­ming. The­re a gro­up of yo­ung men we­re hol­ding a mock war dan­ce.

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