EXCERPT
“Wiwasteka,
my beautiful woman....”
Gabrielle
opened her eyes and gazed deeply into his. He thought her beautiful. She had wanted this, to see his desire. She
had waited patiently for him, knowing what would happen once he saw her. She had scrubbed her skin until it tingled
and then dried herself with fur. A mixture of pulverized columbine seeds, and
water, perfumed her entire body. For what had seemed like an eternity she’d
brushed her hair until it shone. For what seemed like an eternity she’d waited,
letting the warmth of the sun shining from the opening above finger her naked
body, preparing herself for his return.
“I
burn hot for you,” he whispered against her ear.
His voice soft, deep and sensual,
licked her skin like the heat of a flame.
“And
I for you.”
“Listen
to the language of my heart.” He placed
her hand against his bare chest. She
could feel its rapid thumping.
“My
heart too, speaks your language.” She brought his hand to her breast.
His
dark velvet eyes beheld hers. Slowly,
seductively, his gaze slid downward over her body, a gaze as soft as a caress.
The
air around them seemed electrified. She
drew in a shuddering breath. The fresh
scent of pine and mountain mahogany leaves, that lie scattered around them,
filled her lungs.
He
leaned closer, wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her near. She wrapped her arms around his neck. His
leather loin cloth pressed against her hips.
His chest crushed her breasts.
“Winyan.
Tanyán yahí yélo.”
Their
lips only inches apart, she could taste his hot, hypnotic whispers upon her mouth. The need to touch him - to feel him touch
her, was insatiable.
She
stared deeply into his eyes. Magnificent
dark eyes, warm with desire. “I do not
understand your words–“
”Woman,”
he repeated. “I am glad you came.”
His
musky scent intoxicated her. “I love the way you speak.
Tell me more.”
“You
wish to speak my tongue?” His brows rose and he smiled. “That is good. There
are many words I’d like to say; much I’d like to teach you.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. His long black hair tickled her collar bone.
“This
is ituhu and this...” His lips were warm upon her nose. “Poge.”
He
ran his finger lightly across her cheek, then down, trailing a blaze of heat to
her mouth. “Wicai.” The word, a bare whisper, fanned her face. “And one such as yours was made to be
kissed.”
His
moist, firm lips pressed against hers. His tongue gently coaxed her to let him
in - and she did. He tasted of tobacco
and sweet grass.
His
kiss grew hungry, urgent and she returned that kiss with the same wild
intensity. Breathless, they parted.
He
kissed the pulsating hollow at the base of her throat. “Tahu,” she heard him
say before he moved to her earlobe and sucked.
Between
each whispered, erotic word describing her body, he planted kisses on her shoulders
and neck, down her arm and kissed her knees. When he edged his way back up to
claim her lips, his eyes burned with a savage inner desire that made her head
spin.
His
large hands explored her body. His tongue darted in and out of her mouth. She
breathed quickly between parted lips. He
eased himself lower and playfully planted kisses around the outer part of her
breast, then worked his way in a circular motion coming closer and closer to
her nipple. She could feel her tips grow hard. “Azepinkpa...” He swallowed the
word in his throat.
She
watched him stretch out beside her and the jagged gash marring his shoulder
caused her concern. “Your wound. We must–“
”It
is nothing but a scratch I barely feel.”
She
stroked his cut lightly. “I promised I’d clean this–“
“And
the thought of your touch upon my skin sets my heart a flame, but it is not a
bath I need right now.” Again, he kissed her. “The flame that burns...” He
nibbled her neck. His fingers played
with her hair. “...is not of my shoulder. The fire that burns is much, much
lower.”
Bio
Marianne Petit is a past President of the Long Island Chapter of
the Romance Writers of America. Her love of writing stems back to high school.
She spent hours reading Nancy Drew, Alfred Hitchcock and historical romances.
At the age of fifteen, she wrote a short story for children, as well as
numerous works of poetry. Her love of history stems from her father, Roger, a
Frenchman, whose love of American history greatly influenced her writing
interests.
Newsday and several local newspapers have written articles on
Ms. Petit and she was interviewed on TV for her first book, a time travel
entitled: A Find Through Time.
She is a past President of the Melville Lions club, and
currently 1st Vice District Governor for the Lions of
Suffolk County, Long Island NY, a service organization that raises money for
the less fortunate - especially the sight impaired.
She loves to ski, raft, horseback ride, and enjoys the theater.
Marianne lives on Long Island and is happily married for
40years. She has two sons, two wonderful daughters-in-laws and four adorable
grandchildren.
You can visit her website at http://mariannepetitbooks.com for
extensive research links and excerpts of Ms. Petit’s books.
Find Me Here
– Marianne Petit
Webpage: http://www.mariannepetitbooks.com
Twitter: https://twitter.com/MariannePetit
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