Hawke's Pride, page 29
The only sound in the room for several minutes was the ticking of the clock and Hawke's husky murmurs of pleasure.
Close to expanding, Hawke sat up and lifted Rue onto the bed. She stretched out on her back, and straddling her hips, he began his own exploring.
Her breasts were caressed, teased, and suckled until she squirmed. His hands moved downward then until he came to her most sensitive part. His palm rested a moment on the triangle of soft curls, then he lifted her legs to hang over his shoulders.
A shuddering sigh fluttered through Rue's lips as he slid his hands beneath her hips and placed his mouth where his palm had been. Mewling sounds escaped from her as his teeth nibbled and his tongue darted and jabbed.
When Hawke felt the tightening of Rue's body, knew she was ready to spiral away without him, he straightened up and positioned her for his entry. They would reach the heights together.
Grasping her hips, he slowly thrust into her, his largeness filling and stretching her. He felt her contracting around him, and groaning her name, he worked his hips, driving in and out of her in slow rhythm. Shortly he felt her tremble, felt her tighten around him. "Not yet, honey," he murmured softly. "I want it to last. It's been so long."
Rue's fingers clutching at his shoulders, loosened as she made herself relax and just enjoy the smooth slide of the powerful manhood that pressed her into the mattress with each long thrust.
Minutes passed, and still Hawke pleasured Rue, a film of sweat gathering on his forehead. He murmured words of praise as her hips reached to meet his, not wanting to lose one inch of him.
Finally, neither could hold back the passion of desire that beat at them like a raging storm. When Rue began to shudder, she felt the convulsions of Hawke's body and she held him tightly as together they reached a climax that left them helpless to move for long moments.
Rue stroked the sweaty head resting between her breasts, her lips quirking as Hawke's body spasmed weakly. She was still throbbing inside also, and when she felt his lips move in a grin, she knew that he felt the slight contraction. She gave his hair a sharp tug, and he moved his head to nip gently a nipple in retaliation, making her giggle.
She lay, curling his hair around her finger, wondering if and when he was going to withdraw from her. She didn't have to wait long to find out.
When Hawke's breathing returned to normal, he opened his mouth against the breast pressing against his cheek and curled his tongue around its nipple. As he tugged and licked, Rue bucked her hips against his, letting him know that she wanted him again. She felt him respond, felt him growing inside her.
She smiled lazily, anticipating the slide and thrust that would bring her to a mindless state of release.
Hawke smiled. He loved his wife totally, but he also lusted after her to a point that sometimes made him feel like a rutting bull because it took so long to satiate his need of her.
He leaned up on his elbows, and calling her "a hungry little misery," began a hard, rhythmic thrusting of his body. The bed squeaked and shook for several minutes.
The third and last time left the pair utterly spent, and Hawke slowly withdrew from Rue. Concern leapt in his eyes as he saw the exhaustion in her eyes, her swollen nipples, the tiny love bites scattered over her body.
"Rue, honey," he exclaimed, "have I hurt you?" She looked so delicate next to his large body.
She looped her arms around his neck. "You didn't hurt me at all, my love."
He dropped a light kiss on her forehead and fell over on his back, his legs sprawled apart. His limp member lay across his thigh and mischief sparkled in Rue's eyes. Leaning on her elbow, her head resting in her palm, she lifted what was once so gloriously proud with two fingers, then let it flop back on his leg. "He's not so high and mighty now, huh?" she teased.
Hawke smiled lazily. "He's only restin'. Don't get fie sty. He'll lord it over you tonight."
Rue dropped a light kiss on the object in question, then scooted off the bed. "We'd better get dressed," she said, reaching for her clothes in a pile on the floor. "Adams will be home before long. I've got to get supper." She pulled the dress over her head.
While Rue bustled back and forth between the fire and the table, burying potatoes in the hot ashes, then slicing steaks off a piece of venison, she and Hawke talked of the time they were separated. They spoke of their despair, their yearning for each other.
Hawke then told Rue how he had been shot while searching for her and she related to him the hurtful lies Lillie had told her. Then her eyes shining, she told him about her father, how happy it had made her to learn that he had loved her.
Her hands grew still in the act of setting the table. "Hawke." She looked at him, her eyes large with a frightening thought. "If you would have arrived a day later, I'd have been gone. I was only waiting for someone to come for the baby, then I was leaving for my old shack. With the money my father left me, I was going to fix it up, make a home for me and Jimmy."
"I would have found you." Hawke started toward her, then stopped when the door opened and Adams stepped inside. Dog followed behind him and stood on stiff legs, his lips lifted in a snarl, while the old man glared menacingly at Hawke.
"You got a goddam nerve comin' here, Hawke Masters," he growled. The cocking of the rifle still in his hands was loud in the tense air of the room. "I'll blow your head off if you touch that girl."
"Look, Adams." Hawke stood quietly, nor daring to move. "There's already been enough wrong doin'. Don't you add to it."
"He's right, old friend." Rue hurried to grab Adams's rifle arm. "There's so much I have to tell you."
"Then you've forgive him, have you?"
"There's nothing to forgive. He hasn't done anything wrong."
As Rue explained how she had been lied to, tricked, Adams shook his head at the cruelty some people were capable of At the same time, however, he was relieved that his judgment of Hawke hadn't been wrong after all. Hawke Masters was the honorable man he had thought him to be.
He voiced this to Hawke, then looking around the room, he asked the question, to which a flicker of sadness in his eyes said he already knew the answer. ""Where's the little one?" he asked over the lump that formed in his throat. "Gone huntin'?"
Rue and Hawke smiled at his attempt at jocularity, pretended not to see how badly he was affected by Tiny Fist's absence. Rue looked away from him and said matter-of-factly, "His uncle came for him today. By now he's halfway home to his people where he belongs."
"You're right, of course," Adams said dully. "With an effort, he squared his sagging shoulders and shrugged out of his jacket. "We knew he'd be taken away once winter letup."
"That's right," Rue answered, and finished setting the table. But as she placed the plates and added the flatware, thinking how lonely the old man would be with both her and the baby gone, a flicker of an idea came to her mind. By the time she put supper on the table, it was full grown, but she wouldn't mention it until after supper.
Rue thought that Hawke would never finish eating. She smiled to herself, thinking that he went after his steak the same way he made love to her, as if someone would take it away from him.
Finally he sat back, rubbing his full stomach. "I sure missed your cookin', Rue. Pa cooks worse than I do."
Adams glanced over at Rue's rumpled bed and said slyly, "I gotta a feelin' her cookin' wasn't the only thing you missed about her."
Rue laughed out loud at the red flush that spread over Hawke's face. He was embarrassed!
Adams blushed also when she turned to him and retorted, "Almost as much as you miss Rainy."
He ducked his head and grinned. "That much, huh."
Hawke raised a questioning eyebrow at Rue and she explained, "Rainy is an Indian woman, who visits him one week out of every month." She slid Adams a teasing look. "He's informed me that his juices haven't dried up, and I believe him. He and Rainy bounce on that bed so hard, and so often during her visits, that I think someday it's going to break and fall in on them."
"Hey, is that so?" Hawke asked, surprised. "Does the hankerin' for a woman last into the later years?"
"You damn betcha it does," Adams answered proudly. "Age ain't slowed me down one bit."
Hawke looked at Rue, a warm gleam in his eyes. "I'm right happy to hear that."
"Oh, you." Rue playfully slapped him on the back of his head. "You'll have worn yourself out by the time you're forty."
All three laughed, then took their coffee to the fire. As they stretched their feet to the fire, Rue brought up her idea. "You know, old friend, that I will be leaving with Hawke tomorrow." Adams nodded and she continued, "I won't be going to my grandparents as I had planned." Again, the white head nodded.
"Would it be too much to ask you to take my money to them after you put your traps away for the season?"
"I reckon not." Adams set his empty cup on the floor. "I've never seen that part of the country before."
Rue hesitated, then taking a long breath said, "There's one last request I'd like to make. If you don't agree to it, please say so. I'll understand."
Adams looked at her and scolded, "Haven't you learned yet, Rue Masters, that I don't do anything I don't want to? What's this request you're talkin' about?"
"It's about my half brother Jimmy. He's sixteen years old and he loves the woods, and hunting and trapping. I'm hoping that if you take a liking to him, you might bring him home with you."
"While Adams gaped at her, Rue hurried on, "He's with my grandparents now, but their old and don't have too many years left. I would like to have Jimmy settled in a permanent home."
"Now, hang on there, Rue," Hawke spoke rather sharply. "You know that he'd be welcome at the ranch."
Rue laid her hand on his. "I know that, Hawke, and thank you. But I don't think Jimmy would be happy there. He knows nothing about herding cattle, doing ranch work. He's sort of on the wild side. He's what they call back home a woods runner. He'd be so happy running a trap line in the winter and hunting in the summer."
Rue stopped talking and looked worriedly at Adams. "You haven't said anything, friend."
"I've been thinkin'," Adams answered slowly. "Fine and the kid take to each other, it's not a bad idea. I'm not goin' to live forever either. I'd like knowin' my traps and cabin would be left to someone who would appreciate them and take care of them."
"Oh, thank you, Adams," Rue cried, then added confidently, "you'll like him. Everybody does."
"We'll see." Adams stood up, and going to his bunk, bent down and pulled from beneath it a heavy bedroll. "Me and Dog are gonna sleep in the shed tonight. We don't fancy bein' kept awake half the night by all the noise that's bound to come from yonder bed."
This time it was Rue's turn to blush furiously, but before she could fire a retort to Adams, he was closing the cabin door behind him. "You old scamp," she muttered, and cleared the table of the supper dishes.
"Are you gonna be long?" Hawke slid her a wicked look, brazeningly massaging the large bulge pressing against the front of his denims.
"Why?" Rue asked, pretending not to notice his crystal-clear meaning. "Do you want something?"
"My friend does." He grinned and moved his hips suggestively. "He's standing proud and ready, just like I told you he would be."
"He usually is, so that's nothing new." Rue went on gathering the dishes.
"Can't we go to bed now?" Hawke coaxed, his voice raspy. "Can't you leave the cleaning until tomorrow morning?"
"Hawke, you are the limit," Rue tried to chastise him, but a stirring had begun in the pit of her stomach. She remembered such times back at the ranch, how Hawke would tease and coax and tantalize her until he got her to do what he wanted.
She walked toward him, undoing her bodice. She whipped the dress over her head, and the camisole and the petticoat followed. "Well," she said, her hands on her hips, "are you coming to bed or not?"
Hawke rose, his heavy-lidded eyes drinking in her naked beauty as he hurried out of his own clothes.
He carried her to the bed and crawled between her legs. "We'll fool around later," he whispered as he entered her with one, long thrust.
Norah Hess, Hawke's Pride
