Tender Savage (Siren Publishing Allure)

by Rosemary J. Anderson

  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.

  From his position by the shelter, Abraham swivelled to look at her.

  “What the hell do you think you are doing?” he asked dryly.

  “Chasing off snakes,” she whispered, feeling wretched, tears catching in the back of her throat, and wanting nothing more than to be safely at home.

  Rising slowly to his feet, Abraham moved in on her and, snaking an arm around her waist, pulled her to him.

  “You’re stirring up one hell of a lot of trouble, woman,” he ground out, bending his head and taking her mouth in a mind-blowing kiss. Caught off balance, she staggered forward against his chest. Opening his legs to steady himself, Abraham drew her closer, enfolding her in a secure embrace.

  Pressing her back against the trunk of a tree, Abraham pulled down her trousers, and, ripping apart her panties, his hand unerringly found her feminine mound. Cupping her, he gently teased apart her pussy and inserted two fingers. Eleanor gasped against his mouth, and his tongue found entry, dancing across her lips. He pushed in. His fingers working their magic on her clitoris, mirroring the thrusts of his tongue, he easily brought her to a knee-trembling orgasm. Lifting his weight from her, his mesmerising gaze holding hers, he undid his zipper, and his cock surged free, the tip dewing in anticipation.

  Seeing his fully engorged member, vigorous and pulsating, brought her out of the trancelike state she had fallen into, and she impatiently dragged one leg out of her trousers. Abraham’s hands found her buttocks, caressing and moulding their peachy firmness. Eager to feel him inside her, Eleanor mewed gently in anticipation until, slipping his hands under her thighs, he lifted her.

  Straddling his hips, her ankles locked across his back, and with her arms around his neck, he thrust forcibly home. Clinging to him, her back pressed against the tree, the bark grazing her bottom, she was relentless in her need for satisfaction. Breathing hard, she clenched her teeth, begging him to the point of tears to screw the arse off her. Tightening her internal muscle
s and now beyond anything but the need for her own gratification, she dug her nails into his shoulders and, shocking herself, cried for him to fuck her and fuck her hard!

  Flattening his hands against the tree, and with Eleanor clinging to him like a limpet, Abraham obligingly drove deep into her, working his hips. His pace was fast and furious, pounding and grinding. Pelvis and thighs slick with their juices, he rode her to heaven.

  Feeling her orgasm taking hold, and her teeth sinking into his shoulder, he lost control.

  Barely listening to her repeated appreciation of his prowess, Abraham climaxed, jerkily spilling his hot seed deep within her womb.

  Finally spent, Eleanor’s feet shakily finding the ground, he pulled out. His cock, still engorged and slick with her essence, jerked in response to her gaze. Turning from her, Abraham adjusted his clothing, barking angrily at her to cover herself. Hurriedly, she pushed her leg back into her slacks, absently noting the red marks on her thighs where Abraham had held her. Zipping up, she collected her ruined panties from the ground and screwed them up into a ball, hiding them from his gaze behind her back.

  “Abraham?” she whispered, not sure why he was acting this way.

  “Enough!” he ground out, turning his back. “This was a mistake, Eleanor.”

  “Are you blaming me?” she asked, feeling hurt.

  “No, of course not. We were both to blame, but that doesn’t make it right.” He sighed, rubbing a hand across his neck. “You were hot for it, and I had an itch needing to be scratched. Just don’t go reading more into it than that—imagining yourself in love with me.” He shrugged. “It happened, end of story. However, this is neither the time nor the place to debate it. You’re very vulnerable at the moment, Eleanor, alone, frightened and in shock, and I…”

  He turned from her, raking a hand through his hair. “I should have known better. I need to get you home safely and get this package back to the authorities. I don’t need any distractions, and you, princess, are one hell of a distraction.” He looked back at her, standing by the tree, her dress in disarray, her hair a mess, eyes wide, lower lip trembling, and her fingers tearing at the already ragged panties.

  “Sit yourself down and have a drink. We need to move at early light, and you need some sleep.”

  Handing her the canteen, he commanded her to stay and, without a further word, strode off into the scrub.

  Eleanor, staring after him, felt shocked, and she sat down abruptly. Unmoving, she gazed absently into space, her mind blank and her heart heavy. Moments passed, the sounds of the jungle faded, and everything felt slightly surreal until, with a flick of lashes, she once again became focused. Closing her mind to what had happened between herself and Abraham, she calmly unscrewed the cap on the canteen and gulped some tepid water.

  Willing herself not to cry, she vowed to concentrate on getting back home and forget everything else, dismissing it as not important. Crawling under the makeshift canopy, she lay down, but her thoughts, refusing to cooperate, returned once again to Abraham. Why had she succumbed to his considerable attractions? What was it about this man that kept her coming back for more? She wasn’t a naive girl in awe of a manly physique, and this wasn’t her first encounter with sex, although, even though she hated to admit it, it had definitely been the best. She frowned in concentration. Why did he affect her so much? She couldn’t understand why his inadvertent assault on her senses was making her act so completely out of character. She remembered the way she’d crudely asked him to screw her and fuck her, and she squirmed in embarrassment, and she felt her hot face grow even hotter.

  Perhaps she had hit her head in the crash and it was shock that was making her act so irresponsibly, she excused herself. After all, they hadn’t used a condom, something she would never before have even considered. But, she thought as she pursed her lips, he’d been right about one thing. She had been hot for it, so hot in fact, that she’d not even thought about protection. She’d just been so eager to have him inside her, possessing her, making her come. Or maybe her lapse in self-preservation had been out of loneliness, or even just plain old hero worship. He had become her rescuer, after all. But perhaps it had been none of those things. Perhaps at the end of the day, she gave a hysterical chuckle, or she was just a floozy, a common-or-garden slut—a tart! The smile dying from her face, she closed her eyes. She was just so tired. Her limbs felt heavy, and her body ached in places she didn’t even know she had. Maybe she’d rest—just for a moment.

  Chapter Nine

  Abraham was by the river, a sight that never failed to amaze him, as taking into account the size of the Amazon, wherever one stood one never appeared to be far from its magnificent glory. He had gathered some nuts and berries and had caught a fish, having learned how to without a rod in survival training. His thoughts were abstracted, an unusual phenomenon for him. Always in control, ordered in mind and body, he was now distracted, preoccupied, unfocused, and he wasn’t used to it. Eleanor had got under his skin, and he didn’t like it. He should have left her behind, got the discs to safety, and then returned for her in a few days. But, he thought with a sigh, she’d been so vulnerable, a veritable babe in the woods, and his conscience had got the better of him. He stroked a thoughtful finger down his scar. He’d vowed never to get involved with a woman again. Date them, bed them, and then wave them on their way, but with Eleanor he’d succumbed. Caught off guard by her helplessness, he’d caved in and just had to become the hero and rescue her. As he thought of her, his heartbeat quickened. There was something about her that made him want to protect her, that made him feel vulnerable. It was like she had some kind of hold over him. He wanted to hold her and touch her, and, more worryingly, he wanted to know her, know everything about her, what made her laugh and cry, and even stupid things like what her dreams were. He grimaced. God he had to pull himself together. Anyone would think he had feelings for her.

  Sitting on a stump and gazing at the deceptively calm river, he let his thoughts become reflective, taking him back to that other time many years ago.

  The woman had been beautiful, with a childlike innocence that was illusory, an innocence that had covered a dark heart. He remembered those few days with a surprising clarity of mind. The mission had been to enter a war zone to recover a diplomat. His squad was the best there was, a crack team that diced with death on a daily basis, who knew each other inside out, where respect and loyalty was the order of the day.

  The information had been accurate, and the diplomat had been easy to find, but getting him out had been a Herculean task, surrounded as he had been by pseudo military men, freedom fighters as they liked to call themselves, but in reality, butchers, without conscience or compassion. They’d gone in at night, parachuting as near to the target as they could. Stealthily, they’d moved in, working as a team almost as one, mind, body, and soul. They knew what to do and were good at it.

  Men died. He shrugged. That was the nature of the game. Where men went, death and destruction followed.

  It had all gone so well. Enemy casualties had been kept to a minimum, and his men, luckily, had come out unscathed. The diplomat had been recovered, but he had insisted on bringing his aide with him, a variable not counted on. Grimacing, Abe remembered how upon seeing the aide, his heart had stopped, just for a few momentous, mind-blowing seconds. She had indeed been beautiful, and her smile, it had radiated around her almost as if the sun had come out. They had moved at speed, but she’d done all that had been asked of her, never complaining and always with that gentle, soul-destroying smile.

  He’d felt—Abe frowned—overwhelmed, he supposed, never before having been so affected by a woman, and, he admitted, he’d fallen head over heels for her. She’d been everything he’d ever wanted in a woman, spirited, courageous, beautiful, and sexy.

  The diplomat, in his eagerness to return to safety, had not obeyed orders and had as a consequence received a gunshot wound, but it had been a through and through, and his life hadn’t been in any danger. But even thr
ough all that their mission was a success, and they had returned home triumphant. Full of admiration for her spirit, he’d asked if he could see her again. He remembered the joy he’d felt when she had appeared to be as enamoured with him, as he was with her, and had so eagerly agreed. There followed a few weeks of complete happiness. They hadn’t known anything about each other, but they had made plans, big plans. They were in love and were going to get married, have a bunch of unruly kids, and live in the country, happily ever after and all that. But just a few hours later, he’d caught her riffling through his papers. She’d stolen the key to his office, intent on finding out about their next mission in the Middle East. When she was confronted, it hadn’t taken much for her to spill the beans and confess everything. She’d wanted to brag, he remembered, triumphant at being able to pull the wool over his eyes. Admitting to being a spy, she’d gone on to brag that her mission had been to get close to a member of the SAS, her remit, do whatever she had to, even use sex to get the information. She’d boasted how she’d not only used him, but a fellow officer as well, deciding that she’d have more chance getting what she’d wanted if she increased the odds. He recalled the devastation her confession had caused. His heart had been ripped in two. Hurt, he’d demanded to know who else had succumbed to her charms and, his face setting into a glacial mask, he’d listened to her extolling the virtues of his friend, going into graphic detail of their amorous encounters.