Page 95 of The Spirit of the Wolf

She felt so close to him, but she had more to say. “If this means I will never see again the shores of England, then so be it. I can live without going to England. I cannot live without you.”

“Nor should you have to. For as long as I exist, I will love you, my wife. From the first moment I saw you, I admired you for your beauty, for it is uncommon. But then, when I came to know you more fully, I was touched at first by your kindness and your passion. Later, I was surprised yet inspired by your courage in rescuing your friend, and your willingness to do chores which many women would never do. And then when you, too, saw the vision and decided to stay to help me…” He couldn’t finish the thought, as his voice quivered overly much. He swallowed hard. “Know this, my wife, while I am committed to ending the curse for my people, whether I be successful or not, I am dedicated to you. And this I promise you, so long as I exist, I will love you.”

Marietta cried. She simply cried and threw her arms around him. “Love me, my husband. I know the time is not right. I know my friend is nearby. But I have never wanted anything more than to have you, all of you. Please love me.”

After picking her up in his arms, he brought her to her knees in front of him, the two of them kneeling before one another. He whispered against her neck, “I will, my love. I will, and I do.”

It took almost no effort to remove her drawers, leaving her corset intact. Grabbing hold of his buffalo robe, he positioned it beneath her, and gradually, he lowered her to the ground, opening her legs so he could admire the beauty which was hers and hers alone.

He said, “Oh, that we had the whole day to love.”

“But we don’t, my love. I understand this, but we will still have this time together.”

“Hau,” he said. “Hau.”

Before she could stop him, he bent toward her navel, tasting her, kissing her, gradually letting his range extend downward, until at last, he kissed her very femininity.

It was a wicked sensation, it was delightful, and oh, the pleasure, the rapture, to be loved in such a way by this proud and wonderful man.

He murmured, “Open your legs more fully for me. Give yourself to me completely.”

And she did. Over and over again, he made love to her. Indeed, he took her to the heavens and back again. When she thought she could take it no more, he rose over her.

Bringing her legs to his shoulders, he knelt before her, his hands carrying her hips up to meet his. He then joined himself with her.

Never once did he look away from her; never once did she pull her glance away from him. Smiling at one another, they made love, building to an apex, and then he let her come down.

She was ecstatically there again, tripping over the edge of pleasure, and at the exact same moment, he thrust more deeply into her tight recesses, spilling all of what he had to give for her alone.

“I love you so much, my wife,” said Grey Coyote, as he bent toward her, showering her with kisses.

“And I love you. So long as I exist, I will love you.”

Smiling, she pulled him down to her, where she once more embarked upon the road to pleasure.

“Where are we going?” Marietta asked of Grey Coyote later in the evening. The three of them were once again on their way, traveling over the countryside. For a time, they had stopped, as both Grey Coyote and Marietta seemed inclined to do of late. While they were halted, the two of them were to be seen sharing an embrace, a hug, or sometimes even a kiss. Luckily, Yellow Swan was more than content to look the other way.

“If my calculations are correct,” Marietta continued, “we are heading north. You’re not backtracking toward Fort Pierre, are you?”

“I am.”

“But why?” Marietta turned to frown at her husband. “You must know I don’t want to go back to the horrible fort. What will Laidlaw do if he sees me again with you? Oh, and did I tell you that Laidlaw ordered Adams to kill you?”

“I did know it,” said Grey Coyote. “But we are not returning to the fort. We go toward the fort because I have some good news for Yellow Swan.”

This statement had Yellow Swan, who had been reclining off to the side, turning toward the two of them. She said nothing to Grey Coyote, as Marietta had come to learn was Indian etiquette.

Marietta had also discovered, when in the presence of both Yellow Swan and Grey Coyote, it was left up to her to intervene for the two of them. It was the only way they would speak to each other.

Apparently, in Indian country, unless he had to, a man did not talk to a woman who was not his wife. So Marietta asked, “Did you say you had news for Yellow Swan?”

“Hau, it is so. Tell her,” said Grey Coyote, as though Yellow Swan wasn’t there and couldn’t hear his every word, “that while I was in the Lakota camp, I learned someone had recently stolen many of the Lakota horses. The warriors did try to track the man who took them, and they know that he who did it was Assiniboine. However, they were unable to catch him.”

Yellow Swan’s face brightened, but she remained silent.

Marietta asked, “Do you think the man who did it was Yellow Swan’s husband?”

Grey Coyote grinned. “I suspect it was, for his description fits the manner of her husband.”