Savage: Unapologetic

by Pamela Ann

  “Cariña …” he groaned.

  “Argh, cariño,” I moaned, mimicking him.

  The music loudly thumped in the background. When Rihanna came on, I got up and began dancing. My body felt insane, like I was floating. I could barely feel the weight of my body. My skin tingled. And when I closed my eyes, everything intensified as I slowly swayed to the beat, rocking and rolling my hips. My senses became bombarded with different vibrations. I must say that it felt wonderful.

  “She dances like Salome, and she expects me to behave …” Juan whined somewhere in the background.

  With my eyes shut, I could picture him on the cozy, circular cushion, gawking at me as if I was something to be savored.

  “Cara por favor, you’re being unkind.”

  A mischievous smile spread my lips before I stopped dancing and diverted my attention to the bothered man. My skin felt flushed as I coyly looked at him. “Do you find me hot, cariño?”

  “You take my breath away, Cara.” His throat bobbed, eyeing me as if I was the most enchanting thing he had ever seen.

  “Dance with me.” I held out my hand, but he didn’t take it. Instead, he came up behind me, placed a hand over my waist, and held me close.

  We swayed, lost in our own little world, as he grazed my neck with his lips. It was a brush first, then another, before his warm tongue darted out, teasing my skin. “Cara …”

  His hardness sat against my ass, and he made sure I felt it each time we rocked our hips. He rubbed the side of my thigh as he breathed down on my neck. My skin was so sensitive that, in no time, he already had me panting.

  He then spun me around to face him, parting my thighs before he hooked my left leg over his thigh as he rubbed his hardness against my heat. Our dancing continued, both focused on the friction that our bodies created, as Juan began to gradually direct us towards the inside of the cover, hiding us from the passing crowd.

  His eyes bore on mine, devouring me. “This is how I have been ever since I met you. Hard and aching … for you, cariña.” He made his point known as he shoved his burgeoning member against my covered mound. He felt good. Too good.

  “I’m not having sex with you. I like the foreplay, but I’m never having sex with you,” I whispered in his ear, dead set on what I wanted. I might have been high and drunk, but my mind still managed to function.

  He didn’t say a word as he pulled me closer against his hard-on. He sought between my thighs before he groaned appreciatively. “Always so wet …”

  His ministration sent spasms all over me before he nudged my thong to the side.

  I clung to him as his middle finger rubbed my clit. Each stroke felt like an orgasm. It drove me wild with need before hell broke loose.

  Juan pivoted us farther into darkness as he pushed me against a wall covered with hanging plants. It was so dark, and all I could feel was him.

  Pulling his zipper down, Juan freed his member before he purposely lodged it between my thighs. He measured it enough so when he rolled his hips, the tip would hit my nub. He nibbled on my earlobe as he began to fuck my clit.

  “Cara, I want you so much.”

  I wanted him, too, but not enough to go all the way.

  “This is the farthest we can go,” I panted out. “If you try anything else, I’m going to stop you.”

  “Okay, cariña,” he groaned as he fucked my nub harder, picking up pace. This went on for what seemed like forever, and I came several times over the head of his dick.

  The beautiful high began to shift. All the good feeling I had became warped. My world spun as I clung to Juan, who was still engaged in my clit.

  “Stop … stop! I’m getting so dizzy. I feel sick.” I needed water. “I’m thirsty. I don’t feel too good.” Fear began to unfurl when I found that I couldn’t control my body. The bright colors had darkened to black and crimson.

  “Let me take you upstairs,” He offered as he zipped himself up before guiding me out of the cove and out of the party scene in the garden.

  When I tried to open my eyes, the leaves were too enlarged, the roses too magnified. I felt weightless, the floating effect more severe than before. Then I saw eyes—red, bloodshot eyes that followed me everywhere. From then on, I closed them while Juan guided me blind, too terrified to do anything else other than breathe.

  It seemed as though it took us forever until we finally reached my bedroom. It was dark when Juan led me towards the bed. He carefully laid me down before he took my stilettos off.

  My body felt heavy. Lifting a hand took a lot of effort.

  “I need water,” I desperately croaked out, choking on my dry cottonmouth.

  It took Juan a couple minutes or so until he reached my side and opened the bottle of water he had previously gotten me. He had to help me up before placing the opening on my lips. The wave of cold water in my mouth was the best thing I’d ever tasted.”

  Thank you,” I murmured as he withdrew it and placed the bottle on the side table. I found it difficult to even speak, let alone make my voice louder. Everything took effort. It was strenuous, a painstaking struggle to do anything at all.

  Going in and out of consciousness, I didn’t feel Juan until I felt him between my thighs, heavily panting against my groin. “I’m going to make you feel good,” he promised as his hand nudged my thong to the side before I felt his hot breath, then he began to lick my slit.

  A weak, strangled groan escaped my lips. It felt good for a while, until panic seized me and those wretched evil crimson eyes appeared before me, terrorizing me once more.

  “No, please, stop. I don’t want this,” I faintly cried out. All I wanted was to curl up and sleep this one out.

  “Relax, cariña,” he whispered against my pussy, warm breath teasing my skin before he dipped his tongue into my labia, lapping the wetness his ministration created.

  His fingers were next. I whimpered in vain, torn between the good feeling and the fear that gripped me.

  “Cara …” I heard him before I felt his cock between my pussy lips, running it up and down.

  “No … please … don’t … no sex,” I sobbed, the weakness in my voice barely heard. “No sex … please.” The room was in complete silence. I was sure Juan could hear me fine, but he was past restraint and self-control. My wishes mattered not. Juan was rabid, delirious, and loving the shift of power between us.

  “You’re going to like it,” he proudly said as he teased the mushroom head on my opening, testing my resistance. “You’re so wet. I’m helping you, mi amor. I’m helping you feel good.” He was intoxicated at the newfound advantage he had over my drugged-up state. “Close your eyes. Relax, cariña. You’re going to thank me for fucking you good.”

  But I don’t want it! I wanted to scream at him, but I couldn’t find the wherewithal to muster strength to even speak anymore. My body too weakened to function at all.

  Tears slid down on the side of my face. My mind struggled to comprehend what was about to take place.

  If Juan saw my tears, he couldn’t be bothered by them. He hovered above my motionless body as lowered my dress before he began to molest my breasts while he nestled back into my wet crevice. He started to make small shoves, sliding over my clit while he bounced from one nipple to the other. He was crazed, groaning like a maniac as he rapidly humped my pussy.

  He then lifted a leg and placed it over his shoulder before I felt his cock pierce my opening. “Cristo …” He shivered in absolute delight and whispered, “I love you, Cara.” He then slammed his dick so hard that I managed to let out a muffled sound from the harsh impact.

  He began to kiss me, forcing my mouth to open as he ploughed harder into me. He was incensed, grunting and groaning, as he opened my leg wider so he could go deeper into me.

  I tried to push him off, but my strength was non-existent. It was as if all my energy had drained out of my body, deteriorating me to a paralyzed state.

  I began to tremble as he fucked me harder. My tears flowed freely as I felt him
come, expanding in my canal before squirting his load. He shuddered, kissing me, my body. Then he slightly pulled out before slipping back in, lavishing the feel of my pussy gripping him.

  Murderous rage took hold of me. I wanted nothing but to kill him with my bare hands. My mind seethed, yet my body was too sensitive that whatever Juan did, my sex would reward him with more wetness. In turn, he believed it was an unspoken invitation to abuse me. He didn’t seem bothered that he was fucking a limp, unresponsive woman. He lavished on the fact that I was powerless to stop him, violating me in every which way.

  “St—” A feeble sound left my lips.

  Juan paused from suckling on my breast before he moved close to my ear. “Shhh …” he whispered before he moved away from my body. His dark frame hovered, admiring his victim. He took a few minutes, roaming those beady eyes as if he was making himself hard by imagining of what he would do next. Then his eager hands fumbled around my dress as he gradually rolled it upwards and over my head, fully undressing me.

  He then turned me over and placed two pillows underneath my belly, strategically parting my legs before he slipped inside me again.

  “I’m making you feel good, cariña. Just savor it,” he cooed, breathless. “You wouldn’t be this wet if you didn’t want me fucking you. Stop lying to yourself; you’ve been dying for me to fuck you.” He panted like a dog as he pounded me with purpose. “I want you … I want you for myself.” He let out a pleasured sound, gripping my hips harder as he pillaged my hole. “I’m going to keep you, carina. All I have to do is get you pregnant, then you won’t ever leave me.”

  I was too out of it to bother with his maniacal promises. My mind turned to mush, then it went blank. I knew nothing but the feel of him drilling into me.

  He went all night. I lost count.

  He’d take a break. I even felt him wiping me clean. Then he’d fuck me again. I passed out with him still going at it, fucking me to his oblivion. He loved the high it gave him while I laid there defenseless, completely disabled to stop his onslaught.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Seven ten. The digital clock brightly glowed in my half-lidded eyes, drowsy and sore in places I didn’t deem possible. My body ached. My head throbbed as if I had been whacked with something hard. I grumbled in pain and in confusion before I felt something trying to push against the crack of my ass, seeking for my swollen spot.

  Then it hit me. All at once.

  My body froze before I let out a raging, shrieking sound. “Get your fucking filthy body off me, you rapist!”

  Juan stilled, facing me with a cruel, vicious look. “You’re overreacting! You enjoyed it just as much as I did! You asked me to stop, but you moaned and offered me your body. You came so much around my cock, cariña. So don’t go accusing me of rape when you loved it just as much. You pretty much begged me to do it.”

  I shuddered at his use of endearment. “You raped me, you stupid fuck! You took advantage of me. I couldn’t function last night. I couldn’t even move. I was going in and out of consciousness, and you took what wasn’t yours to take!” I hatefully spat at his furious face. “You’re right; I was begging. I was begging for you to stop abusing me! But you didn’t fucking stop, not once.” I was crazed. Hysterical. “The moment you had me in bed naked, you just went ham on me. You had no thought, but to exploit me to satisfy your needs. How could you do this to me, Juan,” I accusingly eyed him with pure disdain. “I trusted you.”

  His eyes dangerously flashed at me. “I’m not going to apologize,” he gritted out from between his teeth.

  “Apologize? You think I want an apology after that you’ve done?” I huffed out in disbelief. “I want you dead.”

  He blew a gasket. “I did it for us, cariña!” he thundered as he got out of bed before he hunted his abandoned clothes and began dressing. “I did it for us. What you’ve been denying us to have! Be angry, hate me—I don’t care. You’re mine now! You can try to run, but you’ll come crawling back. You’re going to crave me and seek that feeling I gave you last night. You loved it, Cara. You loved being fucked and being used by me. You’ve wanted me. I’ve seen the way you look at me. Your eyes have been begging me to fuck you for so long now, so I did us both a favor and did what should’ve happened the first night we met. If I die today … tomorrow, it’s still worth it. Every. Single. Second.”

  “You sick bastard! Get the fuck out of my sight!” My hands trembled as I held the sheet against my chest, feeling violently sick from hearing him justify his abominable actions.

  Juan hastily left, marching as he walked out and slamming the door.

  I collapsed back on the bed, grappling the sheet to cover my sullied body as tears fell, streaming down my face. My body quaked, howling my pain.

  River was gone. There was no way I could reason my way out of this. That hurt, too. But what toppled the eviscerating pain was the bare fact that I had been violated, devalued, touched and desecrated by a man who I believed wouldn’t go to such lengths to take advantage of a vulnerable woman. He had stripped me from all the happiness I had in my life, leaving me in a dark vacuum that sucked the life out of me.

  Last night’s images, blurry as they were, ceaselessly replayed in my mind. It would come in flashes. I would hear him pant, holding me hostage as he rutted into my body. And then there were the whispers—his whispers—the words he’d murmur in my ear with a voice that indicated he was beyond reproach, consumed by the lust he had suppressed for a long time, and once unleashed, he had no control of it. His words of love, possession, and his intention of making me his echoed in my mind. It taunted me, and when I closed my eyes, it was as if I was back there again, in the dark, sweaty, paralyzed, and numb from the ongoing abuse of his dick, plunging in and out of my body as if he had been chasing his demons away.

  Shoving my face into the pillow, I bawled my eyes out, hating myself for allowing this to happen. I knew then, that whatever happened next, I would never be the same. This horror forever marked me, soiled me, a dark stain that couldn’t be rubbed off. It would forever stick to me, branded by his filth, endlessly reminding me of how worthless I was. If I was damaged goods before, I was beyond warped now. Just an empty shell to hide the grotesqueness that lurked underneath the pretty face.

  I stayed there with my cheek flat on the mattress until I ran out of tears, blankly staring into space while my mind actively rampaged on Juan’s disgusting actions. I could still feel him between my thighs. It ached, throbbing from his ceaseless use of it.

  Be angry, hate me—I don’t care. You’re mine now! You can try to run, but you’ll come crawling back. You’re going to crave me and seek that feeling I gave you last night. You loved it, Cara. You loved being fucked and being used by me.

  His words rang in my mind, replaying over and over again. At one point, I even wondered if there was any truth to it. He wanted me all for himself that he went as far as to damage me so severely that it would cripple me from moving on from this nightmare. In his sick, twisted thinking, he had convinced himself that he would rather keep me linked to him by traumatizing me enough than letting me walk free.

  The door opened, and without having to see who it was, I could feel his filthy energy permeating in waves.

  “Cara …” he rasped out in a small, tiny voice as if he was in pain.

  “Go away!” I screamed as I clutched the sheet like it was going to protect me from evil and the likes of him.

  “H … el …p m … e …” he dragged out as if he was running out of oxygen.

  Raw, undiluted, spine-chilling fury possessed me. I rolled to my side so I could face the heartless sick bastard, ready to unleash the wrath he had wounded so deep into my bones. However, the raging furnace inside me instantaneously froze to chilling temperatures the second our eyes connected.

  The incensed man who had walked out of here ages ago was no more. Juan sagged against the door, white as snow, injured as he stared back with those dark, blank eyes, stricken. His forehead was thickly c
overed in blood. It trickled on the sides of his face and on his chin. It dripped on the wooden floor.

  Horror filled me as I stared at him, immobile on the spot, as I gravely watched his eyes shifting from shock to desperation then sadness.

  “T … i am … o, ca … ri … ña,” he managed to choke out, eyes rolling back before he collapsed on the floor, the top part of his skull coming off.

  I let out a string of blood-curdling screams.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  It was sometime around midnight when I woke myself up from screaming. The room softly glowed from the bright lamp situated across the room. My eyes rapidly darted around, panicked, making sure I knew where I was, secured in this little safe haven I called home. The blackout curtains were drawn, but the time indicated it was almost noon.

  I sat up, chest heaving as I brushed a hand through my hair. My body was coated with sweat, disturbed from the images of my nightmares. Darkness terrified me. It was where he lurked, always waiting for me.

  The past two days went by like a blur. After screaming the house down, people woke up, and Juana was the first person to see her brother in that shocking, gruesome state.

  Juan had taken his Porsche for a spin, with no seatbelt, going over one hundred twenty miles an hour as he weaved through the tricky hills and collided into a tree. His body had been thrown out of the windshield. What boggled everybody was the fact that the impact should have killed him on the spot, yet he miraculously survived the impact and somehow struggled to get back to the villa, dragging his body as he left a trail of blood, dropping crimson all over the staircase and hallways in search of me before collapsing to his death.

  The car crash resolved everything, so the authorities didn’t need to interrogate me much—the only consolation I had after the unending nightmare Barcelona had brought me.

  His family was distraught, most especially Juana. Her horror-stricken face would forever be etched into my mind. I watched it all happen as though it was an out of body experience. I felt nothing. I was a blank canvas. No expression. No emotion. No tears came as they bawled their eyes out, asking God why they took their precious angel in such a cruel manner. His family was out of their minds with grief. But Juana sought me, wondering why her brother was even in my bedroom since his room was across the hallway.