Savage Love

by J. Jenkins

  “How does clogging my arteries prove I love you?”

  In a pained voice Carolina asked, “How did getting shitfaced after announcing our engagement prove that you love me? How did bellowing like a bull with his balls snagged on barbwire prove that you cared at all?”

  “I didn't sound like a bellowing bull,” he denied.

  “The heck you didn't. You were keeping up such a racket the kids couldn't get to sleep. I have to say I didn't find the show impressive. I had a much better time sitting out in the cold all night listening to the crickets since you kicked me out of your bed.”

  Putting the fork down he reached out to stroke her hair, “Carolina, honey-”

  She swatted his hand away, “Don't try sweet talking me. Where did you think I'd go? Did you even care? I'm the woman you supposedly fell in love with at first sight and you treated me worse than a piece of trash.”

  “I was drunk and jealous.”

  Carolina added, “And feeling blue?”

  Dylan raised both of his hands to his forehead, massaging his temples before raking his fingers through his hair, remembering the overwhelming darkness that had taken hold of him the night before. “Yeah I was feeling blue. Darn near black to tell the truth,” his voice was a mixture of sadness, self-consciousness and shame.

  “So why did you send me away? Why couldn't you tell me what was going on?”

  Needing to keep from touching her Dylan resumed eating. “Tell me what you really thought of my singing?”

  “I thought you sounded sad, beautiful and powerfully angry.”

  “I was feeling overwhelmingly melancholy and irate. My music helped me manage those emotions.”

  “We could have talked.'

  “You tried talking to me and your efforts were pointless. Talking most times, when I'm like that, doesn't help. I either do what I did last night or I...” Dylan's words trailed off, not wanting to admit his malady.

  In a coaxing tone Carolina urged him on, “Or you what?”

  “I end up spending all that emotion on sex.”

  “But you told me you didn't want sex.”

  “I didn't want sex from you. I've never wanted just sex from you. Every time I'm inside you, I want you to feel my love, know how much I worship you. The type of sex I have when I'm all tortured and knotted up is the type of relationship I had with Liz.”

  “Rough sex?”

  “We've had rough sex. What I had with Liz was more like... You said last night that you thought there was a thunderstorm, well imagine me filling you with that much force, needing from you the same in return and you'll only have a fraction of an understanding of what I needed last night.”

  All sorts of hardcore, unbridled images flashed in her mind of Liz satisfying Dylan in ways he'd not shown her and she felt inadequate. “You were like that with Liz?”

  “All the time,” he answered candidly without a hint of boastfulness because he wasn't proud of the sexual compulsiveness that had shackled him to his ex-wife.

  Carolina hated Liz even more. “Well I'm not letting you go off and sleep with her.” If he desired any other woman besides that anorexic, good-for-nothing she might have considered letting him sneak off, have an additional lover on the side. After several sedatives, hypnosis and no access to weaponry, she could possibly tolerate him with a woman like Vega, nice, sweet and caring, if that was truly what he needed to be happy, but basic sex didn’t sound like what he needed to get him through his darkness. He sounded as if he required a feminine force that would bathe herself in syrup and let him screw her on top of a fire anthill or romp wildly with him in an open field during a gully washer and such powerful extramarital feminine energy would rip him from her.

  “I'm not asking you to. What you saw last night isn't the norm for me anymore. My darkness is occasional, when everything caves in.”

  “But you still want to sleep with Liz?” She wanted to reach out and slap some sense into him or better yet she only had to wait a little while longer, Patrick would put an end to Liz, thus solving the problem of Dylan pining away for whatever sick, twisted sex tricks that skinny strumpet used to shackle him.

  “Last night I might have,” he confessed chewing on a piece of bacon wanting her to feel at least jealous by the thought of him with Liz.

  Carolina saw the truth of Dylan's statement on his face and she rose to the challenge the other woman presented. Emphatically, she stated, “You don't need her anymore. I can give you everything you need.” She’d find a way of knowing, even if he wouldn't completely reveal his raging desires to her.

  Dylan knew she wouldn't be able to meet his dark sexual needs because he was going to try to keep them squashed. Even Liz had never completely brought him to satisfaction, over the extent of his adult life his numerous experiences with trying to achieve the ultimate release had always led to utter disappointment. However, if she'd tell him, she loved him, and really meant the words; her declaration would go a long way toward healing the wounds he'd come into the world with. Carolina-”

  Thinking he was set to refuse, she shook her head and shushed him. “Let me try. No more heavy drinking and we'll work the rest out. Just come to me when you first start feeling that way. As for your being jealous of Justin I need to tell you something.”

  Dylan took a large drink of orange juice before saying, “Go ahead”

  “I care for Justin as I do the twins; in my heart and soul I feel they are all my children. I only want to love, nurture and protect them,” her statements were the absolute truth of what she felt and she prided herself.

  “I know you do.” Dylan felt shamed because of his earlier suspicions and because he needed her to care for him more than their boys, place him above everyone in her life.

  “The way you feel overwhelmed, Justin has been experiencing something like that and he came to me for help, to talk. I would never hurt him or do anything to come between the two of you. But I need to be there for him.”

  Dylan nodded his head looking intently at her, “What's bothering him?”

  “You'll have to ask him. I won't break his confidence.”

  “I'll talk to Justin but I need you to agree that after we're married you won't keep secrets from me about our children. I'm their father honey and although you don't love me I hope you'd at least honor me with the right to fully participate in their lives.”

  She nodded in agreement. “Now about Patrick.”

  Dylan groaned, rolling his eyes. “What about him?”

  “All the gifts Patrick sent to me yesterday I stowed in my SUV and I'll return everything.” While holding his gaze she slowly unbuttoned his shirt she wore, lifting his hand to the empty place where Patrick's medallion had once hung between her breasts. “No more reminders of Patrick and since you're waiting to know, I'll tell you that Patrick loves me but he's never been in love with me. He's always been in love with my brother.” She knew she was leaving out a very important part of how she felt about Patrick but her emotions didn't matter because Patrick Donovan would never be hers.

  She had to be kidding, Dylan thought, remembering how Patrick had kissed and caressed her. He didn't even try to hide his disbelief, his words laden with skepticism, “He's gay? Because I didn't get the sense he was interested in men.”

  Patrick was interested in one man only, her brother, and it wasn't physical love they shared. Their bond was intellectually, spiritually, and emotionally supreme. However, for the sake of simplicity she embellished, “Patrick's bisexual, but you're not his type.”

  Dylan momentarily felt disappointed that the other man didn't find him attractive and knew then he was completely cockeyed from his hangover since men sexually repulsed him. Rubbing his forehead he told her, “I don't need to know anymore.”

  She kept on with her explanation, “I told you he was my first and the best but there are things he never did to me. If you want to show me new techniques, positions, or whatever I won't ever say no.” Having made the heartfelt promise she stripped off
the shirt she was wearing to sit nude before him, awaiting his most far-out fantasies.

  Dylan drew in a ragged breath thinking he would like to keep her naked all the time. “Do you know what you're offering me Carolina?” He watched her move the nearly empty breakfast tray to the floor then she leaned into him, whispering directly into his ear a particular virginity she hadn't lost.

  ****

  He kissed her, regretting having drank the night before, remembering the plump roundness of her bottom pressed against him when they'd slept together, recalling how perfectly she'd fit beneath him the previous morning when he'd taken her from behind. “I can't let you do that now. How do you know this isn't a side effect from that chili?”

  This is about pleasing you. That chili was all pepper and no flame. I was hotter for sex when you pinned me against the wall in my office. You could have taken me standing up and I would’ve gone off like a rocket, or maybe bending me over the desk and spanking me for not returning your calls would have been more appropriate?”

  He held up a hand stopping her depiction. “I get the picture, but there isn't anything I can do about it now. I'm hungover. I better get a shower so we can go down to the stables.”

  Standing next to the bed, Carolina slid into his shirt, leaving the buttons undone. With her hands she freed the long length of her hair that was trapped between the denim and her back and she inquired, “When you and Vega were dating did you ever spank her?”

  Fascinated by the rise and sway of her breasts, Dylan felt tempted to pull her to him but the pounding in his head was agonizing and he longed for the feel of a hot shower easing the tightness in his skull. “If I answer you will you let me out of this bed?”

  “Sure,” she agreed, taking time to slide her hand across the flatness of her stomach.

  The motion of her fingers was hypnotic. Dylan confessed, “Vega and I did a little more than date. We were engaged until Chris decided he wanted her for himself. But no I never spanked her.”

  Carolina pushed the bed covers aside to expose the wonder that was Dylan's muscular body. Straddling his lap, she teased his lips with hers. Looking deep into his eyes, she felt him hardening between her legs, “Do you want to spank her?”

  Dylan held onto her waist to stop the gyrations she'd started against his throbbing length. “Carolina she's my brother's wife. No I don't want to spank her.”

  Clenching her inner thighs, she teased him until he released her waist to grab fistfuls of the sheet on either side of him. Reaching between her thighs she allowed her fingers to stroke the engorged length of him, traced his swollen veins with her short fingernails. In a husky voice she offered, “What if I spank her and you watch?”

  Definitely, she was trying to kill him, Dylan thought as he felt the explosion of heat in his body, the electrical pulses at the base of his spine. “Carolina...”

  She arched her back then, pushing her breasts against him, allowed his swollen length to find refuge between the cheeks of her bottom. “Love is about honesty isn't it?”

  He could feel the sweat on his brow, fighting the wild desire to bury himself deep in her willing flesh Dylan gritted out, “Yes.”

  Carolina stopped her gyrations. Placing her hands on his shoulders, she lifted her hips high enough so the extreme length of his manhood could stand tall. Looking down at him, she smiled invitingly, “So honestly here in this room, between just you and me, would you like to see me spank Vega?”

  Dylan felt pleasurably trapped. The salty-sweet, spicy fragrance of her aroused body was in his nose, in his mouth, and the copper-red curtain of her hair surrounded him, blocking out rightness and reason. “Yes,” he moaned with his eyes closed.

  She eased down onto him, relishing the feel of him stretching her. Carolina watched him through lowered lashes, sliding down another couple of inches, “She is so beautiful. Think about my palms stroking her tight naked rump, my hands teasing her flesh.” Leaning over slightly she breathed lustfully into his ear, allowing her tongue to lick here and there, “Maybe I can put just one finger inside her.”

  Dylan thrust deep into her, his hands gripping her hips. He was preparing to plunge into her again, when the bedroom door opened and his eyes met Vega's whiskey-amber gaze. Images of Carolina's pale porcelain body wrapped around the gilded perfection of Vega's form, flashed across Dylan's mind and as he continued looking at Vega, in her midnight blue negligee, he rammed into Carolina, repeatedly plunged in and out, then forcefully ground within her viscous honeypot until Carolina cried out in pain that quickly morphed into whimpers of pleasure as her tight little hive set to buzzing on his aching flesh. With powerful thrust, he pushed her harder, lifting her up, his hands cupping her jiggling rump, fingers sinking into her soft, tender flesh. Dylan felt her bite the lobe of his ear and heard her whisper, “Now, come inside her for me.” He bucked beneath her, tremors of raging sexual release jarring his teeth as he gasped, crying out, “Honey, the things you do to me.” Through it all, his eyes never wavered from Vega’s shrewd study.

  Still holding Carolina close, minutes passed before Dylan had enough oxygen to say, “Is something wrong Vega?”

  She gave a throaty chuckle before saying, “That was beautiful Carolina. Dylan, sorry I barged in but Liz is on the phone arguing with Chris. He's seriously threatening to go over to the beach house and drown her.”

  “I'll be right out,” Dylan told her and watched as she closed the door with a broad smile. He buried his face between Carolina's breasts taking in a long ragged breath. “Honey, about Vega...”

  “If you want I'll sleep with her to get even with Chris for stealing your most beloved,” she declared hugging him close, placing her lips to one side of his muscular neck, breathing in the intoxicating balminess of aged whiskey, cedarwood, male sweat and torrid sex. She had felt his rampant excitement at having Vega watch them and though she'd never been with a woman she'd enjoy Vega being her first if Dylan would find pleasure in knowing they'd been together.

  Reading her thoughts Dylan seriously warned, “Get the idea outta your head. If you thought I was more than flesh and blood could bear last night, you wouldn't want to be in the same state as Chris when he's really pissed. He'll never forgive you if start up with Vega, then break her heart by not staying with them forever.”

  Wriggling against him she felt him throbbing and engorging inside her once more, “I'll not seek reprisal if you say not to. But do you know what was in that chili?”

  Dylan thought when she moved her body all slippery and squirming against him, he wouldn't care if he were dressed from head-to-toe in red for the Bull Run. “I have no idea. Just don't stop,” he demanded, sucking her nipple into his mouth, tasting the surprise of strawberry meringue.

  “Your brother had me eat dried cobra. Chris is lucky I didn't sneak into their room and cut off all his hair,” she exclaimed, undulating her hips against him.

  “Whatever,” Dylan sighed, flexing his length inside her, stopping suddenly when he heard Chris' booming voice outside the door. In one quick movement, he rolled Carolina off him and had her tucked securely beneath the covers before his brother stormed in. “I'm on my way Chris,” Dylan called out, holding a bed pillow over his lap, thinking he would need to wait several minutes for his aroused state to subside, since his hangover interfered with his self-control.

  “Never you mind 'bout gettin' off Carolina now. Here, take the damn phone. I've argued with Liz all I plan to,” Chris stomped over and held the phone out to Dylan.

  Carolina snatched the slim black receiver from Chris before Dylan could get his hand on it. Shooing Chris with a wave of her fingers she sat up in bed clutching the covers to her breasts and purred into the phone, “Liz, Dylan's busy and can't be bothered.” She paused listening to the other woman and held the receiver away from her ear when a stream of blistering profanity shot forth. When the cursing stopped, Carolina placed the phone back to her ear, “Enjoying sex is real difficult with all your yelling. But, when Dylan pulls out an
d if he’s not too tired from our fourth shag of the morning or chomping at the bit to taste the delights of South Carolina I’ll ask him to call you. Now I've gotta go cause I'm ready for my orgasm.” Taking a deep breath she let out a lusty shriek and cooed into the phone, “Oh Dylan, sweetheart, give it to me. Ahh, ooh whee, yeah you're my rutting bull, so long and thick. That's right Big Tex, ram into me as hard as you want, hard, harder. Oh my, oh my, oh sweet mercy I'm coming.” Without waiting for Liz's cussing to resume Carolina ended the call, engaging the 'do not disturb' function of the phone system. Looking from Chris to Dylan she asked, “Was that so difficult?”

  Dylan heard his brother's shout of laughter fill the room. He felt Carolina's nails raking along the line of his spine and started envisioning his trip to her southern valley. Sliding beneath the covers, he told his brother, “Lock the door behind you.”

  ****

  Many hours had passed before Dylan let her out of bed and the only reason he did was that his brothers had kept knocking on the door demanding they put in a token amount of time rehearsing. However, before he'd taken off to join the other Savages in the home music studio, they'd showered together, dressed each other and to her surprise, he'd brushed then styled her hair into a lovely French braid. As he was walking out Carolina had felt a rush of foreboding, wanted to beg him not to go and knew her ever-present fear of abandonment was rising to the surface. But she hadn't told him of her worries, instead she'd waved him goodbye and waited five minutes before sending him a text message simply worded, 'missing your love'.

  To keep herself from thinking about Dylan and the anxieties that threatened to overtake her, Carolina busied herself cleaning the bedroom and bath. She then proceeded downstairs with his breakfast dishes and had them washed and put away before August could object, giving the Rubenesque, golden-almond-shell-brown-skinned woman, with her penetrating, dark-cloud-gray eyes, a tight hug and a kiss on each cheek before leaving the kitchen. She went rushing back in to thank her for taking such wonderful care of the family, then asked if she'd honor her by acting as her mother at the wedding. When August agreed in her rich, Texas-praline voice, Carolina could hardly keep from sprouting wings and flying happily around the room. Calming herself, she grinned joyfully and hugged the smiling woman one last time, before snagging a bottle of Texas chili sauce to take upstairs with her.