by Olivia Gates
A sudden chill tore through him. She’s moving away, his body screamed.
Settle down! She had to be taking her clothes off, then it would be his turn, then she would take him, bury him inside her, feed her hunger and drain him of every need and tension and worry…
The chill intensified and his eyes snapped open. She wasn’t undressing but just sitting there, rigid, breathing hard. Then she was getting up.
But he’d surrendered!
“Savannah!”
“You don’t want this, do you? And I’ve been—Oh, God! This is as good as forcing you. Oh, hell, Javier—I’m so sorry…”
“¿Estás loca?” His laugh was frenzied at the insanity of her words. “Not want you? You’re crazy, right?”
“You mean…you do want me? Oh, darling…Then just take me—take me back!”
“How can I when I’m tied up like this?”
Her agitation dissipated. He could almost see it in the murky shadows, spiraling out of her. Then the vibrant mischief and desire started to emanate from her again.
“Free me, Savannah. ¡Por el amor de Dios. Untie me…”
“Uh-uh.” Her lips landed in his abdomen this time, her tongue in his navel. He roared.
“Savannah—if you don’t mean to kill me, let me touch you!”
“Later, darling. It’s my turn now. You think I’m letting this opportunity pass? All of you, every magnificent muscle and sinew and shudder at my disposal?” Her hands and lips and teeth were everywhere now his shirt was halfway down his bunched arms. “I’m making up for three years and one month, taking every inch and groan and liberty I’ve been going crazy for. Let me enjoy you, let me pleasure you.”
Her ragged words twisted inside him, an aphrodisiac overdose. “At least let me see you…”
“Nuh-uh! This time, you get to feel only, to touch and taste and hear.” Her hands were at his jeans’ fastening, one hand undoing it, the other rubbing him, between kisses and nibbles and words of more wonder and longing.
Only disjointed grunts, almost sobs, issued from him now. “Savannah—querida—just take me inside you…”
“Next time, darling, and the time after, and the time after that…” Her hands freed his engorged flesh. Pain and relief forced him under for a few seconds. He resurfaced to the feel of her lips. Surely she was damaging him for life! “I thought my memories had been lying to me, tormenting me. They were merciful, darling.”
He almost had a seizure, yet he still resisted. He wanted to be inside her, the only place he belonged, the only pleasure he craved hers. Her tongue tasted him. “Let go, darling, give me this…”
Cruel. Merciless. The woman he worshipped. He roared the words to her, in Spanish, as swell after swell of agonized completion swept him.
A long time later, he lay under her worshipping hands and lips, still shuddering, still fully aroused. “Now you’ve had your way with me, will you untie me?”
“I haven’t had my way with you yet.”
“Then have it! Now, Savannah, te lo ruego, now…”
Her lips took the rest of his begging, his breath. He surged up, drove his tongue inside her mouth, showed her what he wanted to do to her body. Her cry went through him.
“Querida, if you won’t let me loose then rub yourself against me, let me see what I do to you…”
“Oh, Javier, yes, darling. Tell me what you want to do to me.”
“I want to devour you. I want to love you until you can’t stand any more pleasure. And when you beg me to stop, I’ll start again until you beg me never to stop.”
“I never asked you to stop. Never will. More, Javier, tell me more…” She jumped up on top of the bed and stood between his legs. He watched every undulation of her silhouette striptease and told her more, everything he felt, everything he’d do to her. Her top was the last to go as she straddled his waist and rubbed her silk against his sides. She stretched up and shimmied out of it, swaying in a dance to the rocking rhythm of his heart. Then she leaned over and offered all of her skin to his, her breasts to his waiting mouth.
He’d never imagined anything like it. Even with her, from her. He filled his mouth with her beloved flesh, filled his soul with the music of her pleasure, spilling more passion for her gratification, until it was beyond endurance. “No more words, querida. You want more, I’ll give it to you, give you everything, only if you take me.”
“Javier—I’ve waited so long, wanted too much…” Her sob was stifled by his mouth.
“Mi amor, te lo ruegole. I beg you—let me see your face, just turn on the bedside lamp. I must see you.”
She leaned across him and he caught at every part of her that touched him as she fulfilled his plea. Then it was there, the sight he’d missed as much as he would have the loss of all his limbs. Savannah. But she was better than all his memories now, in every way. And how she wanted him! Those heavenly eyes told him so. Dying for you. Haven’t been alive without you.
His heart stampeded. He had to touch everything, taste every part.
“Untie me, Savannah!”
Too late. Time stopped as she began lowering herself on him, too slow, too tight, letting him see what taking him was doing to her.
Nothing mattered any more but watching her, giving her, giving in to her, to them. Like before, like never before. He fought against the brutal pleasure that forced his head back and his eyes closed. He needed to see it all. His memories had been false too. Her reality surpassed his dreams. Or was it love making everything different? Yes. Different, dominating—devastating.
She’d accommodated all of him and he thrust up into her, every lunge into her clinging flesh taking him deeper into dependence. How could he ever have less than her all now?
For now, he had her all. Her tears filling his mouth, her body convulsing around him in satisfaction, her voice breaking on his name, begging for the final giving, his seed inside her. By the time he was ready to give it, her second climax had her in its quaking grip. His roars of release intensified with her every spasm around him.
Frustration crashed on him the moment she fell on top of him.
“Release me, Savannah!”
Her mouth opened on his, her sensual giggle restoring his arousal to steel. “Didn’t I already?”
“My hands, Savannah. Now!”
“You drive me wild when you growl.” She tightened around him and he thrashed, throwing her off. If he didn’t have his hands on her this second, he’d have a stroke.
Savannah tried to obey him and just slumped back on him, her hands feeling unmatched, unattached even. How did he expect her to function after what he’d done to her? And he’d done it tied up too. What would he have done had he had the use of his full body? Untie him and find out.
“Get scissors. In the nightstand.” His snarl at her ineffective efforts sent her rummaging where he directed.
In seconds she’d freed his right hand and he snatched the scissors from her and did the rest. Her cries of “Oh, Javier, watch it! Slow down, please! You’ll injure yourself!” accompanied his every wrench and slash.
At last he was free. And wild. Crouching on the bed, his shirt pooled at his wrists, openly predatory. His eyes threatened retribution, his every bunched muscle promising how well he’d carry it out, how hard, how long. Then he pounced. A shrill scream ripped from her, propelling her backwards, and she flew out of the room.
No pursuing footsteps came and she stilled for a second, heard a zip being done up. Then…thundering footsteps. He was still wearing his boots. She’d left them on, interested only in undressing him just enough to…Yes, enough to. Now to get away with it.
Too late. His breath was almost on her nape, his body moving the air at her back. Another yelp and a spurt of speed snatched her from his hands.
With his couch between them, they parried for a minute, then he bounded over it in a single leap. It still gave her the second she needed to scamper around it, run into another room.
It turned out to be th
e kitchen. More like kitchenette. Trapped!
He flicked on the single lamp over the kitchen table she was hiding behind, at leisure now. With only the tiny table between them, he stood there, his eyes brooding over her nakedness, planning all the ways he’d exploit it, his face a mask of taut, fierce arousal. A thrill of anticipation shook her.
His dark drawl was another blow to her molten core. “Bondage, S and M and now Catch. Any more games you want to play?”
“There was no S and M!”
“You don’t consider leaving me there writhing, begging for my hands on you, to be sadistic? It was, believe me. I thought my head would blow off with frustration.”
Was he angry?
His easy stroll towards her had her quaking. He reached for her and her teeth clattered together. He withdrew, a sharp move putting him at arm’s length again. “What the…? Are you afraid, querida?”
Her answer was ready, incredulous. “Of you? Never! I was just worried…”
His face cleared again at her assurance, devilry igniting his eyes. “You should be worried.”
He gathered her in his arms, nudged her thighs apart, half carried her to rest on his arousal. Apart from his open shirt showing off his massive torso and ridged abdomen, he was fully clothed, making her feel more than naked—exposed, vulnerable—and loving it. Knowing him, trusting him with her all, the game of domination and submission added another flavor to their sensual feast.
He let her slide down over him, then he pushed her back on the table, spread her legs, braced them at its edge and came between them, bending over her to plunge her into the deepest kiss he’d ever given her. Her soul flowed into him.
“Missed you, mi corazón, mi amor, starved for you. Now I get to feed again…” He escaped her clawing hands as she tried to undo his zipper, ignored her begging for him, slithered down her body, kissing and nibbling and suckling her all the way to her core. By the time his first finger slid inside her and his tongue started lashing her swollen flesh she was bucking, disintegrating with a permeating, numbing pleasure, her release complete—but it still wasn’t enough. Only he would ever be enough, his closeness, his pleasure.
“Please, Javier, you, you, please…”
He caught the hands roaming his face, his shoulders, pinned them down. “No, you don’t!”
Now she knew what he had felt, not being able to touch her. Her hands were burning. He dragged her limp body up with hands filled with controlled power and cherishing gentleness, turned her around and laid her facedown on the table.
She lay, hardly breathing, waiting for his payback. He took his time about it, reclaiming her every nerve and response and inch. He slid invisible touches down her back, tender licks and bites in lightning-inducing spots, whispered kisses all over her arms and nape and buttocks. As his touch heated, roughened, so did his words, his confessions of all the things that had gone through his mind since they’d met again. Her tears flowed out of her heart, at the beauty, the waste, the expectation.
When he had her in a state of continuous quivering, he withdrew. “You liked me helpless, didn’t you?” He waited for her smothered wail of unbearable stimulation, her plea for him to just take her. “Why the rush? Aren’t you enjoying your helplessness?”
“No!”
“Good!” His sonorous laugh peaked her distress, made her writhe back into him, desperate to take the lashing edge off the hunger.
Just when she thought something inside her would char, he rested his body on top of her back, whispered in her ear. “Do you want me now, mi amor?”
Her nod was frantic, her voice gone. He took pity on her then. He told her how he was going to take her, how he’d waited for this, how perfect she was as he spread her and started his gentle invasion, giving her time to gasp, to relax, to open and accommodate his size. Then he was assuaging her pangs, spreading deeper madness with every stroke, desperation with every deliberate withdrawal.
Her eyes caught glimpses of him when he bent to kiss and nip her nape and shoulders and cheeks, meeting his passion-driven gaze, the tension in her core spreading all through her, tightening, crushing her. She begged him again. He withdrew.
Before her scream of denial tore out of her, he turned her, slid her off the table and sprawled to the floor with her. Then he was there, thrusting inside her, hard now, no more games, giving her what she needed.
As she convulsed in his arms, their eyes locked. He let her watch him reaching his own explosive release inside her, filling her, filling all the places inside her body and soul that had been empty and would remain vacant for ever without him.
There would be no life without him now. Not really.
CHAPTER NINE
“WHAT do you really want from Javier?”
Savannah’s head snapped up from her dinner at Tadeo’s question. He’d kept his voice down, but everyone was much quieter today now there were only about forty people left. All of them knew exactly what she and Javier had been doing all last night and all day today.
Oh, why had they had to come back here?
Because a posse had been sent to fetch them for dinner, that was why!
Up until then, Javier had been rescuing her whenever anyone had launched an interrogation. She wasn’t used to this. People normally butted into her life in subtle, political, far more destructive ways, not this tactless, harmless, distressing invasion of privacy. But this was one question she didn’t want his help with. Didn’t even want him to hear.
Three choices. Tell Tadeo to mind his own business, tell the truth, or stall. Stalling was all she could handle at the moment.
Arranging her features into a hopefully calm façade, she turned to Tadeo. “What I want is irrelevant. It’s what he wants that matters now.”
Tadeo’s thick eyebrows shot up. “Are you for real? It’s all about what women want. Men are just executors of your wills!”
She gave a wan smile at his play on words. “Not with this woman, or this man.”
Tadeo was silent during dessert. Just as she thought he’d dropped the subject, he turned to her again, ultra-serious this time. “You refused him once. Why are you here after him again? When nothing has changed?”
Javier had told him of his proposal? Her gut twisted. “I have.”
His eyes swept her, thoughtful, weighing. Then he nodded. “From what the guys who were with him in the US told me of you, I guess you have.” Could this be more humiliating? “You still haven’t answered my question.”
She could just picture bashing him with the giant papaya and yelling for him to butt out. Oh, just tell him. It’s written all over you anyway. “What do you think I want from him? What has Javier got to give me but himself? That’s all I want. That’s everything.”
Tadeo’s eyes stilled on her for a second, then his smile split his face from ear to ear. “Good. OK, you can hit me now!” His laugh rang out. “Oh, yes, you’re transparent. But just think about it—when you and Javier are married, you’ll have a lifetime of opportunities to bash me.”
When you and Javier are married.
Tadeo’s words ricocheted inside her for the rest of the evening, and all night as Javier deepened his claim on her soul, ravaged her senses and saturated her body with pleasure.
Near dawn, she was lying under him with déjà vu swamping her. It had been in exactly this position, in the aftermath of their last explosive joining, when he’d made his impetuous marriage proposal.
None would come from him now, or ever again, would it? He hadn’t even said anything about feeling anything for her. And Tadeo thought their marriage was a certainty.
A breath at a time, remember?
Yeah, she remembered. She was counting on her memory to store up every breath with him, for the life she’d spend all alone…
“Can I have a word alone with you?”
What now? Savannah almost screamed in answer to Carmela’s request. Another confessional? That would make how many in the last five days? Just what gave these people the
right to interfere into their brother’s life this way? Javier was thirty-eight, for heaven’s sake. He could sleep with whomever he wanted without her passing their collective quality-testing first. No wonder Javier had chosen to buy a separate house nearby. No doubt to escape the committee deciding what he should eat for breakfast.
At least Carmela was asking to put her through the wringer in private.
Savannah’s eyes darted to Javier. He was taking his leave from his parents and grandparents. Soon they’d be away from here. So just get this over with.
“Carmela, just tell me what you want, OK? You are going to tell me how wrong I am for Javier and to leave him alone, aren’t you?”
Carmela’s eyes widened with embarrassment.
Savannah sighed. So she was right. The men seemed to have come to accept her since her conversation with Tadeo. It had been a relief that they’d stopped watching and probing her. It had also been an extra twist of the knife, this seeming consensus she’d be one of them soon. But the women, on the other hand…
Carmela cleared her throat, started. “I like you, Savannah. I think you’re a good, courageous woman, trying to do a very hard thing. For every one of my people you’ve helped, I thank you.”
Sounded good so far. But the next words were bound to tell her why she was still all wrong.
Sure enough, those words followed, Carmela’s features apologetic as she said them. “But this is still an adventure to you. To Javier it’s his life. He should be rich—he would be if the tons of money he makes didn’t all go to humanitarian ends. You’ll say money isn’t an issue since you have plenty of it, but if you marry him, he’ll insist on being the provider. Can you live here, in his house, on what he considers is enough for both of you?”
Savannah opened her mouth to tell her marriage wasn’t even an option, but Carmela mistook her aggravated look for defense and pressed on her attack. “You may think you can put up with it but, believe me, life is hard here. Oh, there are areas in Colombia where you’d never believe anything wrong is going on in the country, where there is beauty and prosperity, but this is never where Javier will be. I’m used to having the simplest in life, and I wouldn’t last living the way he does. The best you can have with him is a short-lived marriage before you buckle under the hardships. I want you to consider the day you’d come to resent Javier and end up leaving him, maybe after there are children, too.”