Tykota's Woman(68)

She was losing patience. "I don't know or care about that. If anyone is compromising my reputation, it's you, by bringing me here to the barn. Do you think people would not talk if they knew I was alone with you?"

He grabbed her and drew her tightly into his arms, his eyes filled with agony. "Do you not understand? I have not slept. Food does not appeal to me. Nothing matters when I am not with you. All I could think about was you in another man's arms." He raised his head and stared at the rafters, trying to gain control of his emotions. "What am I to do?" His eyes lowered to hers like a physical touch. "Tell me, Makinna."

Tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. She placed a hand on his cheek, and he closed his eyes at her touch. "Oh, my dearest," she said, her heart filling to overflowing at his admission, and compassion for him returning a hundredfold. "I, too, miss you desperately. But I don't want to be the one who stands in the way of your duty to your people. If I did, you would one day despise me. I would rather walk away from you and never see you again than to tear you apart like this."

He glanced down at her, and his eyes were misty. "My father calls out to me from the grave that I must not abandon my people. I know this, and I am willing to sacrifice much to that end. But, for just this one night, let me hold you."

He lowered his head, his lips touching her eyelids, nuzzling her ear, and then sliding down her neck as he buried his head against her breast. "Beloved, I never knew there could be such a fire within me. It burns day and night."

Warmth filled her heart at the soft tone in Tykota's voice-and at his calling her beloved. She somehow knew that he had never called another woman by that endearment.

Makinna fought down the sob building in her throat. She must be strong for his sake. She forced her tears away, her heart gladdened because she knew, at last, that he loved her. But he was hurting inside, and only she could help him. It would take all her strength, but she would do it for him.

Tomorrow, she would walk out of his life and set him free to do what he had been chosen to do. But tonight she would give him everything she had.

She stepped back a pace, took off her gloves, removed the golden snood, and loosened her hair. Tykota stared at her when she began to unhook her gown. She pushed it off her shoulders to her waist, and the flickering lantern light illuminated her bare breasts. Gently placing her hands on either side of his face, she brought his head to her breast.

A strangled moan came from deep inside him as his mouth moved across her skin, his breath fanning the nipples into sharp points. "You stoke the fire inside me until it bums out of control, beloved."

"You once offered me a gift, Tykota. I now give one to you. Tonight, I belong to you." She blew out the lantern, the only light now was a faint glow from the moon coming in the loft door. She turned her back, saying, "I cannot reach the rest of the hooks."

He closed his eyes, trying to gain control of his feelings. He needed to touch her, to hold her to him, to feel her silken body, to kiss her until she wanted him just as much. Tykota shook his head to clear away such thoughts. He had to walk away from her. Now. "I cannot do this to you."

Turning, she wound her arms around his neck and brought her body closer to his. "It's what I want. I ask only this night from you. It will be our gift to each other."

Tykota's iron control snapped. He had never had a more painful arousal. He wanted to rip off her clothing and drive his hardness into her. He took a deep breath, his hands trembling as he unfastened her gown.

She turned to him as the gown floated to the floor, and she unfastened his coat, pushing it off his shoulders. Impatience clawed at him. All he could think of was burying himself in her body and finding ease for the fire that threatened to consume him. He quickly dis posed of the rest of his clothing while she did the same with hers.

Lifting her into his arms, Tykota carried her to the tack room, where there was a cot for when someone had to stay in the barn all night with an ailing horse. His lips found hers, and he kissed her reverently, his hand moving gently over her breasts.

He lowered her to the cot and came down with her, hard, muscled, bronzed skin against white silkiness. He was on top of her, but he balanced his weight so he would not be too heavy. His mouth never left hers as his hand went between her thighs, touching, caressing, feeling the warm moistness and knowing she was ready for him.

"Makinna," he said in a husky voice.

"Yes," she breathed against his lips.

A groan started deep in his throat. "I want you. I want all of you."

"Yes," she whispered. "I am yours tonight."