Red Thunder

~Chapter Three: Part V~

With that, I turned around and hustled down the stairs in record time, almost falling in my rush. Strange feelings still swirled inside both my mind and body, all caused by the naked Indian laying in the loft!

Red Thunder (Wakíŋyaŋ Lúta):

When Winnie left, I let out another deep groan, this from a pain that had nothing to do with my injury. Her small, soft hands had excited me so much, that despite the throbbing agony of my back, the part of my anatomy that cried out to join with her had swelled with need. This was unfortunately very uncomfortable, as I was laying flat on my belly and could not move. At least I knew my angelic savior wouldn't get an eye-full.

I tried to distract myself from lustful thoughts of Winnie by picturing my family instead. My stomach lurched. My family! What were they going to do when they discovered I was missing? The last time had been frightening enough for them, and now they must go through it again, only this time I wasn't on my way home. My parents and sibling knew I had gone to hunt, and which horse I had taken. The Oglala Lakota had many skilled warriors, my father among them. They would eventually track me, and figure out I had been taken here, although they would not try and retrieve me from the barn until they had watched the comings and goings of this homestead.

I worried what my father would think when he found the spot I had been attacked, the marks of where I dragged myself and the puddle of my blood, but not his only son. It may appear I had been killed, but hopefully he would read the tracks and see that I had been helped onto a horse. If only I had turned around faster...

As my mind tried to retrieve the memory of what had happened, a searing pain rent my brain, immediately drawing my attention away. I yelped in surprise, but thankfully the horrible feeling quickly faded to a dull burn, and then was gone.

"Red Thunder!" I suddenly heard called out from the loft stairs. Winnie came rushing in and to my side, gently placing her hand on my uninjured shoulder.

"What's the matter? Does it hurt very badly?" she asked in concern, strands of her soft hair caressing my back. I shivered at the pleasurable contact. Looking even more adorably concerned, she put a soft hand to my forehead. "You shivered. Are you cold? Are you feeling feverish?"

I smiled wryly. Winnie thought I was feverish, when really it was her touch that had sent the shivers through my body. Sensual shivers that soothed me deep inside. I wondered what it would be like to feel more than just the caress of her hair on my skin and her hand on my face and shoulder...

"No, it is alright." I told her softly, acutely aware of her presence kneeling beside me.

Winnie tenderly brushed the messy hair out of my eyes and I groaned in appreciation.

"Would you like me to braid it back so it's out of your face?" she asked me tentatively, still fingering my black locks.

I held back another groan. I was alarmed at the feelings I would likely experience from that, but my heart (and admittedly other body parts) overruled my head. "Yes, ičhé, please. That would be nice."

She smiled warmly and went through another basket she had brought, pulling out a wooden hairbrush. At my surprised look, she answered sheepishly, "I thought you would want to brush it yourself after you had rested, but I think it's best to do it now. It might help you feel a little better."

I nodded and swallowed hard. Wakȟáŋ Tȟáŋka help me, because it was getting more and more difficult to keep my hands off her. But then again, I thought humorously, I was far too weak to act on any amorous urges! I did not know if that made me feel better or worse.