Free The Renegade's Woman by Nikita Black

the soft tip of the grass stalk. He hadn't missed a single spot on her whole body. Some places, like her nipples, he'd circled again and again until every pore was a bundle of sizzling want, screaming for the more substantial touch of his hands and mouth.
     
    She would never look at weeds again in quite the same light.
     
    "Do I get to tickle you, too?"
     
    He looked up and scowled fiercely. "No. "
     
    "Here, " he said, and popped a few leaves of spearmint into her mouth. "Suck on these. "
     
    He placed a sprig into his own mouth and slowly chewed it as he strung the berries onto one end of the thin, smooth vine and tied them in place about an inch apart. The other end of the vine he trimmed to within a foot of the first berry.
     
    Setting it aside, he spit out his mint leaves and pulled hers from between her lips. Then he lowered himself down on top of her.
     
    Unable to resist, she wound her arms around his neck. "Forget your vision, Standing Bear, " she murmured. "I want you. "
     
    "Taste me, " he urged, and his mouth came down on hers. A shock of icy coolness surprised her when their tongues clashed. She shivered, delighted with the sharp, chilly taste of mint as his mouth devoured hers.
     
    His lips moved down her throat toward her breasts. "Mmm. That feels incredible. "
     
    Each time he licked and nipped at her skin, its already sensitive surface jumped like a thousand tiny snowballs were rubbing over it.
     
    "Oh!" His mouth captured her nipple and her breath hitched at the cold, wet jolt of sensation. Lord have mercy! He tongued her breasts until she was quivering all over. Her womb wept for him. She ground her thighs against his iron-hard rod, yearning for relief.
     
    "Come inside me, " she coaxed.
     
    But he refused to bend to her wishes. Instead, he moved further down, licking her belly, her hips, her thighs. When he reached her mound, he paused to chew another sprig of mint, and spread her legs wide apart.
     
    "Please, Standing Bear. Please!" she begged, craving his skillful tongue on the pearl of her throbbing need. Craving his thick, hard length plunging into her.
     
    He looked at her from his place between her legs, his eyes black and swirling with dark, feral desire. He removed the mint from his mouth.
     
    And picked up the string of berries.
     
    Chapter Six
     
    Sally couldn't imagine what Standing Bear had in mind for those berries, but he didn't give her a chance to ponder it. His mouth surrounded her aching flesh and all thought ceased. The ice from his tongue was like a bolt of lightening between her legs. Need shot from her center in streaks of hot-cold sensation.
     
    She cried out his name.
     
    "How does this feel?"
     
    She moaned. "I-- I can't--"
     
    "Good. " He licked all around, up and down, drenching her in a trail of molten ice.
     
    Suddenly, she felt something hard and round slide down her crease, then press into her back entry and slip inside. Surprised, she jumped. But then his minty tongue was on her again, swirling frosty circles around her taut bud so she nearly swooned. She'd never felt anything so amazing in her life. She arched into him, seeking the turbulent relief quickly closing in on her.
     
    Once again, something smooth and round breached her from behind. "Oh! Standing Bear, what--" Suddenly, she realized...
     
    "Do you like it?"
     
    The string of berries, part inside, part out, felt wickedly arousing -- completely different from his probing finger of the other night, but equally, sinfully, erotic. The tickle of the vine as he played it over her derriere made her wiggle in delight.
     
    "Yes, " she whispered.
     
    "You are a very naughty girl, " he told her, and grinned.
     
    She thought about what her sister and friends on the wagon train would think of her if they knew what this wild renegade was doing to her right now. And how much she liked it. And she realized she could never, ever, go back to the strict, confining life she'd led with those kind, but