Free White Owl by Veronica Blake Page B

overruled by her wanton body and her yearning heart. She had no doubt now that her obsession with the Ute horse races was merely the prelude to her real destination, which was to be with this man for the rest of her life, and she was eager to begin this new life.
    In an effort to control her raging emotions, Rose tried to recall the things her mother had told her about being with a man for the first time. What had she said? It was something like, don’t think of the pain, it will hurt less as time goes on. Remembering that did not help, so she tried to concentrate on the incredible sensations racing through her body. Before she even realized what was happening, White Owl had the hem of her full skirt hiked up to her hips and her pantaloons pushed up out of the way, and he was rubbing his hand the entire length of her thigh. The feel of his hand on her bare skin was a wonderfully heady sensation.
    Rose imitated White Owl’s movements. Sincehe was wearing only a suede breechcloth it was easy to touch his bare skin. Beneath her tentative fingertips, his muscled thigh felt hard and smooth. She was distracted by the realization that he was fiddling with the buttons at the back of her dress. How could his hands be in so many places at once?
    She clenched her teeth together to keep from crying out when she became aware of his rock-hard manhood moving into position between her legs. All of his movements, the demanding kisses, the heated touches, everything, came to an abrupt halt.
    “You have changed your mind.” It was a statement, not a question.
    “Oh no!” she gasped. “No, please, don’t stop.” She grabbed his head with one hand and pulled his face to hers, responding with a kiss that she hoped conveyed the intensity of her feelings.
    A deep moan escaped from him as he ripped the buttons off the back of her dress with one swift motion. In a tangle of flowered material he pulled the dress and her camisole away from her body and flung them into the grass.
    He had rolled her on to her back and she was vitally aware that the only thing that separated his engorged manhood from her virginity was the thin barrier of her pantaloons. In her wildest imaginings she had never even suspected that a woman was capable of having such uncontrollable desires. She throbbed and burned with such intense feelings that she could only arch her body upward and pray for release.
    White Owl ignored her immediate demands and focused on letting his fevered mouth assault her breasts. His tongue teased and his lips nipped gently on the taut nipples that had instantly responded to his touch. Rose tilted her head back into the soft grass and drew in a shaky breath. This was torture . . . pure, wondrous, fabulous torture!
    His lips moved up to her exposed neck and began to bestow more kisses on the soft skin below her chin and around her ears. Her hardened nipples pressed against his muscled chest as he lowered his full weight upon her. His lips continued to move up past her chin and settled on her lips again, while his hand tugged on the waistband of her pantaloons. Rose helped him out by lifting her hips, and in a joint effort, the flimsy barrier joined the dress and camisole somewhere in the deep grass. With one easy movement, White Owl’s breechcloth was tossed away, and there was nothing left to separate their fervent bodies.
    Rose braced herself for the pain her mother had warned her about. Thinking of her mother at this instant seemed immoral somehow, so Rose quickly concentrated on the way his lips were seeking hers again. One of his hands had worked its way between her legs, and the tips of his fingers were tenderly rubbing her in way that made her want to scream with delicious pleasure.
    Her body arched upward as his mouth covered hers, and before she realized it, he was entering her, stealing away her pained cry with a forceful kiss.
    The stabbing pain was brief but intense, and she braced herself for more pain when he began to move slowly