Free Blaze by Susan Johnson

tracing every syllable, "what I do to women? Show you those things that bring women like Lucy to heated indiscretion." His eyes scanned her slowly from head to toe, lingering leisurely on the stylish de-colletage. "Why not sample firsthand some of the savage red man's beastly animal drives—our alternatives to reading. " The delicately derisive voice ended in a low, sensuous whisper, his eyes narrowing, becoming predatory. Tossing aside his cigar, he moved forward smoothly.
     
    With a rustle of silk, Blaze retreated into the swing, staring defiantly back. "I'll scream," she managed, aware for the first time in her pampered life that she was facing a man she couldn't handle.
     
    "Feel free. You wouldn't get the sound out of your throat before I silenced you." His voice was unhurried, his bronzed face under the thick black hair calm. "White men's schools may teach you to read, but the Indian ways teach you to move swiftly and silently. And up against danger, try using a book for defense." As he moved closer the smell of brandy was unmistakable.
     
    "You're drunk!" Blaze cried half in affront, partly in dismay. "A damn dr—"
     
    "Don't finish that," Hazard said sharply, his black eyes burning. If a man had so accused him, it would have cost him blood. "I never get drunk," he added in clear, explicit syllables. "Unlike other tribes, the Absarokee have never been ruled by the Masta-cheeda's liquor. It's a matter of pride," he finished simply.
     
    He was still slowly advancing on her with a particular fluid grace, actually enjoying the fear in her eyes. The revelation that under the facade of imperiousness was only a trembling woman was unkind, but welcome, and it pleased him. That disclosure, or perhaps her stunning beauty and voluptuous opulence, more than the discovery, sent out familiar signals of desire. He felt the swelling against the fine wool of his trousers.
     
    His hand slowly came up with a hushed delicacy, and as his slender fingers gripped her chin lightly the extravagant diamond pendants in her ears swung as prisms of light. "First," he said very quietly to the rigid woman, "I kiss them." And his head lowered to hers, half expecting her to pull away from his grasp. When she didn't, his other hand slid across the silk of her back and gradually pulled her close.
     
    Blaze felt the gentle hands on her flesh, the fingers, work-hardened, not a gentleman's fingers, holding her chin lightly but ruthlessly, not inclined to let her get away. An extraordinary state of flurry overcame her senses, a confused rush of feelings, the same kind of thrilling longing and shivering fear she'd experienced when he carried her in Diamond City. And then she had no more time to think, for his warm lips touched hers, brushed back and forth against the soft fullness of her mouth, forced her lips apart in a breathless dissolving silence. The scent of him washed over her and the sense of a physical presence so much greater than her overwhelmed her mind.
     
    She heard him groan softly, then with extreme and deliberate care he forced his tongue inside her mouth, tasting, licking, twining in a long, savage, sensuous pattern of withdrawal and penetration. And while his mouth and tongue ate at her, kissed and tantalized her warm, honeyed mouth, he gently accommodated her body to his, lifting her a little on tiptoe to fit more fluidly against his unmistakable arousal. "Then," he murmured in a particularly lush resonance against her mouth, "after I kiss them here, I kiss them…" His hand released her chin and slid down the warm, lilac-scented column of her throat, over the soft swell of breast where slim bronzed fingers, crushing a handful of silk and seed pearls, pushed down the decolletage and freed her of the confining fabric. The night air washed warm over her breasts in a languid pleasure before his dark head dipped. Just before his mouth covered one pink nipple already peaking in warm anticipation, he continued, "… here."
     
    Blaze