Page 33 of The Spirit of the Wolf

After all, she deserved to reach her pleasure, even this, her first time.

As Marietta traded kiss for kiss, embrace for embrace, she couldn’t remember ever wanting anything more. Why? Surely this wasn’t love.

It couldn’t be, since it was not as if what happened here would change the course of her life. No, the pattern of her life was set, had been set years ago. Why then did she feel such longing, such joy?

Oh, if only she had someone to confide in, someone to tell her deepest longings to. But the princess was far away, as was Yellow Swan.

No, she would have to decide on these matters for herself. She would have to trust herself, her own judgment. And oh, dear Lord, being in this man’s arms was…sweet.

It was too bad they would not have more time to share with one another. But the die was already cast. Besides, there were some responsibilities which were more important than love.

Love? There it was again. And it didn’t belong here. What was probably a more correct statement of fact would be to say what she felt was lust.

But Grey Coyote had intimated that theirs was a matter of the heart, an instinct, if you please. Was it true? Had their hearts spoken to each other?

Perhaps it was so. Certainly she couldn’t credit their coming together from Grey Coyote’s words of undying love—there hadn’t been any.

Yet, she could not deny there was a quality about this man which made her want to…enrich him, to contribute to his welfare. Did this mean he had touched her heart?

On its own, an image of this man in prayer, up on the butte, came to her. Was it only yesterday?

Why had the moment been so magical?

She sighed. She simply didn’t know, and there was no other feminine presence here to guide her. She was on her own.

“Hmmm,” she moaned as pleasure rocked her body, making further thought impossible. The sensation took her by surprise, for she hadn’t expected it. True, Marietta was more than aware that a man might find ultimate pleasure in the act of love. But a woman?

Wasn’t it a woman’s lot to enjoy kisses and hugs only? Wasn’t this what the ladies in Princess Sierra’s court had whispered?

Marietta closed her eyes against the pleasure which swept through her. Perhaps it wasn’t true.

Grey Coyote broke into her thoughts by whispering in her ear, “Wrap your legs around me and let yourself go. Though this is your first time, this act should bring you much joy. Spread your legs and give yourself to me. I will not betray you. Remember, I am your husband.”

His voice, so soft and husky against her ear, sent a wave of heat along her nerve endings. She whimpered lightly, and beside herself, she strained against him, all the while opening herself to him. Though it was true she spread her legs more fully, it was also a fact that she opened herself to him, becoming, perhaps, a part of him spiritually, and he, most likely, of her.

Joy swept with a rush along her nerve endings, the source of it originating at the junction of her legs. Her attention became absorbed by it and it alone.

The gratification of it built as well. It rose, it crescendoed, until all at once an uncontrollable physical elation swept through her body, sending radiating warmth to every part of her. She wiggled against the tide of it, and against him, straining for more, and she wondered, had he felt it too?

Perhaps so. For at the very instant, she was certain he had released within her, and she caught her breath.

It was like being endowed with a flash of paradise.

Who would have thought that here, in this dangerous, savage environment, was a bit of heaven?

But their lovemaking wasn’t over. Not yet. They bore against one another, their gazes locked, and together, wrapped in one another’s arms, they tripped over the edge of heaven, again and again and again.

At last, exhausted, they fell toward each other, her body cradling his. Gradually, she fell into a blissful sleep. If her dreams were filled with images of herself and Grey Coyote flitting through space as though they were one, she was to be forgiven. For at this moment in time, so close was she to him, she felt as if she were him.

Chapter

Eight

Sometime in the night, a male voice commanded her to “Turn over.”

Yawning, she peeped open an eye. It was still a very dark night outside their shelter. “Turn over?”

“Hmm,” Grey Coyote said. “How am I to rub your back if you don’t?”