Tender Savage (Siren Publishing Allure) (6 page)

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Authors: Rosemary J. Anderson

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: Tender Savage (Siren Publishing Allure)
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“Fuck me!” she demanded. “Fuck me hard, dammit.”

Pulling down her trousers, Abraham ripped apart her panties, freeing her to his gaze and ministrations.

Gasping at the savagery of his actions, a wild abandonment took over her, and she willingly kicked free of her slacks and, opening her legs, urged him to look his fill at the flowerlike, soft, velvety lips as they opened in eager anticipation of his penetration.

Savage moved down her body and bent his head, and his mouth closed over her already-swelling clitoris. Lifting her legs over his shoulders, his hands hard on her thighs, he raised her cleanly waxed pussy to his mouth, sucking and licking. His tongue danced around her vagina, tasting the sweet flavour of her and taking her to the heights.

Crying out as passion mounted, she crossed her ankles around his neck and, grabbing at his hair, pressed him further against her, wanting him to devour her clitoris and wanting him to take it deeper into his mouth and drive her to the very edge.

“Please!” she pleaded. “Pretend it’s a sweet—suck it, lick it, bite it!”

Lifting her bottom, he cupped her peachy cheeks, and her legs fell wider apart, inviting, alluring. Working his tongue, he thrust it into her opening, his teeth grazing her clitoris. He laved her entrance, his saliva mingling with her juices, wetting her thighs and trickling into the crease of her bottom. Eleanor’s thighs jerked, and her hips lifted as an orgasm swelled, rising and undulating, until she exploded on a climax so powerful and so intense she could feel herself losing touch with reality.

An explosive cry fell from her lips. Her breath became fast and short in her chest, and with her hands clawing at his shoulders, she slowly came back to earth. Her thighs now relaxed on his shoulders, Abraham eased her back to the ground. Bending her knees, he spread her wide and thrust his cock deeply into her, penetrating her core. Groaning, Eleanor caught her breath. This was what she wanted. It was ecstasy. Having him filling and stretching her made her feel helpless. She was Eve to his Adam, Delilah to his Samson, Juliet to his Romeo. Plunging deeply, his cock a powerful instrument that tormented and pleasured at the same time, he ground into her, his hips like pistons as they worked his cock.

Enclosing his hips with her long legs, she urged him on, small mewing cries at the back of her throat inciting and seductively urging him to mate. Kissing her deeply, he caressed her breasts with his hands, and then his lips left hers to work their way along her neck, throat, and shoulders until they reached her hard, puckered nipples. Closing his mouth hungrily over a peak, his teeth grazed its softness, and he began suckling hard, the action mirroring the urgent thrusting of his hips.

The air became thick with the guttural sounds of pleasure and the musky smell of sex. With the sweat dewing on their hot, heaving bodies, he began slowing the pace. As he pulled his cock almost out of her constraining internal muscles, their eyes met, hers misted with the drugging pleasure of sex, and he felt a burning animal need. Powerfully, he thrust back into her willing body. Her nails grazed his back, marking the flesh, and, reaching down, she dug her fingers into his hard buttocks, crying out for him to make her come. Egged on by her impassioned pleas, he surged into her, his engorged cock stretching her to the utmost. The tip of his cock grazed her G-spot, and she screamed.

Eleanor felt powerful ripples of pleasure pulsating from her womb and the throbbing swelling of her clitoris, a pleasure made more powerful by a feral growl ripping from Abraham as his cock jerked violently, spilling his seed hotly into her. Climaxing together, they reached the pinnacle of gratification. Eleanor’s limbs shook, and tears fell onto her cheeks.

So, she thought dizzily, this was what it felt like to fall off the edge of the world. A feeling so profound continued to surge through her, making her light-headed yet euphoric at the same time. She felt enervated, fragile, and her own person, but now forevermore, part of Abraham.

 

* * * *

 

A hand on her shoulder shook Eleanor awake. Sitting groggily up, she looked dazedly at Abraham.

“What time is it?” she mumbled, pushing hair out of her eyes.

“Six thirty, time we were moving.” He handed her a stick of beef jerky and the canteen. “Have a gulp of water and eat that, and then we’ll push on.” Narrow eyed, he looked her over.

Her eyes looked heavy from lack of sleep, a red crease mark marred her cheek, and her blouse was unbuttoned, giving a glimpse of bouncing breasts, a rosy hue of passion still marking the tender downy skin. She looked, he thought with satisfaction, as if she’d well and truly been fucked. His gaze moved on, admiring her long, naked limbs, remembering how it felt to have them wrapped around his hips. His loins tightened in remembered anticipation. Grinding his teeth, he swallowed hard as he resisted the urge to throw her onto her back and immerse himself within her again.

“Cover yourself,” he growled huskily. “You’re not on a modelling shoot now. You’ve”—he checked his watch—“fifteen minutes, and if you’re not ready, then I’ll leave you behind.”

Eleanor stared at him. God, he was unfeeling. Their shared experience of last night seemed to be forgotten, whereas she, well… She bit her lip. She still felt nervy and insubstantial, as if her limbs weren’t her own. Trembling as she remembered their passion, her eyes grew soft. Two orgasms, that had never happened to her before, and it was, well, wonderful. She squeezed the thighs together as an ache began to make itself felt. God! She
still
wanted him. He looked so good, rugged, and dangerous but well rested and reasonably clean, whereas she, well, she looked as if she’d been pulled through a hedge backward.

Gulping some water, she nibbled at the edge of the beef jerky. It was vile! She threw it into the undergrowth. She was starving, but without more water, she just couldn’t swallow the jerky. It was as dry as char and tasted like dog dirt.

Finding a last pair of panties, she shimmied into them and, happening to glance up, caught Abraham watching her. Desperately wanting to be fucked again, she made much of adjusting her panties over her crotch. He turned away. Feeling rejected, her breath caught and then exploded out of her lungs. Disappointment and frustration had her pouting in annoyance as she quickly pulled on the creased trousers. Shaking out her boots to dislodge any creatures which might have set up home inside, she then she eased them on. Her heels still hurt. In fact, they felt like fire, but there was no blood on her socks, so that was surely a good sign. Scrambling to her feet, she rummaged in her small bag and, finding a brush, tugged it through her tangled hair, surreptitiously watching Abraham as he went about his tasks. Every movement was minimalist, as if he knew how to conserve his strength. Captured, her gaze followed him. When he walked, he had a pantherlike grace, and his lissom hips had just the right amount of swagger. He was, in fact, gorgeous even with the scar. She absently wondered how he’d got it. Some adventure, she mused, probably fighting some cad out to tie a virgin to the train lines or skirmishing with pirates on the high seas or duelling for some maiden’s honour. She grinned in real amusement as her fantasies got more outlandish by the minute. Her wayward thoughts were brought to an abrupt end by Abraham grabbing her arm and telling her to get a wriggle on.

Chapter Eight

 

The morning wore on. Eleanor wiped the perspiration from her upper lip. She was so thirsty and wanted nothing more than to wash the sweat from her body, drink a whole bottle of water, and succumb to sleep in a soft, comfy bed. Her feet hurt, her thighs were rubbed raw, and every step jarred her tired aching bones. She stared at Abraham’s back with something akin to hatred. He was tireless, pressing on and on, stopping for bare moments every two hours, and only allowing her one gulp of water at each stop. Where had the passionate man of the night before gone? Now he was aloof and detached, looking at her indifferently with those cold green eyes of his and callously not giving in to her pleas for a break.
Heartless brute!

Almost as if he could read her mind, Abraham swung the pack from his back.

“We’ll stop here and rest awhile.”

Eleanor thankfully dropped her bag, but before settling for a much-needed rest, she rummaged in it for some moisturiser or night cream, anything to give comfort to her raw thighs.

Undoing her belt, she unzipped her trousers and let them drop to the ground. Sitting down on a fallen tree trunk, uncaring of anything but getting off her feet, she unscrewed the cap.

“I wouldn’t sit there if I was you. It’s teeming with ants and God knows what else.” Abraham’s voice was dry but held a measure of amusement.

Jumping to her feet and squawking miserably, Eleanor swiped at her backside and her legs, shuddering at what might have found their way into her underwear.

“You could have said!” she cried crossly, verging on the point of tears.

“I just did.” He hesitated a moment. “I would also suggest you take off your panties.”

“What—you don’t mean that you want to—err?” she interjected, feeling the pull of desire and reluctantly turned on by his suggestion.

The look he shot her was sardonically amused.

“No, that’s not what I meant. I know you’re hot for it, but it isn’t going to happen again, lady. You had an itch, and I scratched it, end of story. Now, as I was saying before you interrupted. I suggest you take off your panties because that log you sat on is teeming with insects, which are very quick, and it takes only moments for them to find their way into something warm and moist, and forgive me for saying so, but panties and certain areas of the body are an ideal environment for them to set up home.”


Oh God
!” Hastily, without thought for modesty, Eleanor dropped her trousers and dragged down the offending panties. Kicking her clothes free of her feet, she shuddered in revulsion as a fat beetle crawled from the folds of her underwear. Abraham, watching with a certain amount of amusement mixed with sympathy, scooped up the offending article and shook it. Numerous termites and beetles flew out, falling to the ground and scuttling away into the undergrowth. Brushing at her thighs and between her legs, Eleanor, jumping around in horror, cried pitifully, deeply afraid of invading creatures finding their way into her body. Catching hold of her arms, Abraham shook her gently, halting the imminent hysteria.

“Calm down, Eleanor! I hardly think you’ve anything to worry about. The creatures didn’t have time to enter you, and even if they had, they wouldn’t survive for long.” He looked at the ground. “And those ones are relatively harmless, so you’ve nothing to worry about. Just remember in future, be careful where you’re sitting,
mmm
?”

Her tears now just a hiccup in her chest, she pulled away from him and hastily, her movements jerky and uncoordinated, snatched her panties from him and, giving them another vigorous shake, haphazardly dragged them back on, followed by her trousers. Pathetically glad of his reassurance, although resentful of the position she was in and of his underlying amusement, she kept her face averted.

 

* * * *

 

Half an hour later they were on the move again. Still feeling wretched, Eleanor lagged behind, unable and unwilling to keep pace with Abraham. She was still worried about any invading insects that might have survived her frenzied brushing, and whether for real or imaginary, she was sure she could even now feel crawling in her panties.

Abraham, resting back against a tree trunk, waited for Eleanor to catch up. Whilst in full sympathy with her plight, he was angry at the delay, the discs he was carry burning a hole in his backpack, and he’d noticed during their rest that the party following them was closing in and were now only a couple of hours away at best. Knowing he should leave her, his mission of more importance than anyone, let alone this chit of a girl, he wondered why he hadn’t abandoned her already. Was it the sex? Was his libido making the decisions for him? No, he quickly dismissed the notion. The sex had indeed been excellent, having a willing and adventurous partner, and he thought with a grin, she was certainly that, was satisfying, but not worth dying for. So why didn’t he leave her?

Looking up at the sky through the dense canopy, he decided to give Eleanor a break. Night was drawing in, and it was far too hazardous to travel during darkness, so it would be sensible to make camp.

Worn out, hot, sweaty, and feeling decidedly grumpy, Eleanor finally caught up with Abraham. She ground her teeth. It just wasn’t fair. Here she was, tired and filthy, and he still looked like an action hero, rough, rugged, and ready for anything. Defeated, her shoulders sagging in fatigue, she stopped in front of him and waited.

“We’ll camp here for the night, eat, and get some rest. We’ll be moving at first light as we’ve a lot of time to make up.”

Dropping her bag on the ground, she looked around for something to sit on. Abraham was squatting by the shelter he had quickly rigged up and was shaking out the blanket.

“Where can I sit?”

“Anywhere you like, princess. Just check for bugs and snakes first,” he replied without turning around.

Snakes!
Eleanor hesitated, uncertain. Her limbs were shaking with exhaustion, and she desperately wanted to rest but was fearful of a repeat of the morning’s episode.

Picking up a stick, she poked at the ground and around the undergrowth, shouting, “Shoo, shoo,” as she stamped her feet.

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