Page 39 of Savage

He only spoke to me in Spanish, and on occasion, English when it was necessary. Most of the time, he spoke to me in his native tongue. A seductive tone. A lover’s promise. My grip on the language wasn’t masterful, but I understood enough.

“Tan hermosa, mi tesoro.”So beautiful, my treasure.

Nonchalantly holding both azure goblets, I spun around, barefoot, ready to face my soon-to-be lover as I sashayed towards him with my long slip of a dress. My lips slightly parted as my hips made quite an emphasis with each step I took. My breasts high and pert, slowly hardening at the sight of him fully aroused like a lounging emperor waiting for life’s ultimate pleasures bestowed on him. Blush tinted my cheeks as I felt the moisture creeping down between my thighs when I imagined how he would fit … and how he would feel plundering my depths.

The second I reached him, he unhurriedly stood up, and instead of taking his glass from my hand, he audaciously dipped his middle finger in the wine as dark pools steadily eyed me, holding my gaze as he slid his wine-coated finger under the silk and erotically smeared my nipple with the burgundy liquid in a slow, circular motion. He took his time, holding my gaze, as he granted the same respect to my other breast.

Steady, keep steady.

I moaned as I ravenously gazed at him through my lashes. He did the same gesture with his wine-coated finger dipping below my nether region. I whimpered when that notorious digit sought the wet crevice between my thighs.

Although this didn’t actually happen in reality, his finger hovered close enough to where it was sensitive for me. A quarter of an inch from where my pussy slit began. I unconsciously clenched my vaginal muscles so I could endure his inquisitive examination of my body.

From there, it was my turn to explore his body, touching, feeling until he couldn’t take it anymore and had to take charge. And in no time, he had me on the divan, whispering Spanish words of sweet nothings against my skin.

I writhed and moaned underneath his body. He kissed peaks and curves, torturing me with his mouth, his lips, until it was almost unbearable.

When I didn’t think I could handle another second of his sweet torture, Juan situated between my thighs and pretended to have hard, rough, raunchy sex with me. Even though his aroused member was socked and covered, it didn’t stop it from randomly brushing against my sensitized clitoris. And each time it did, the impact was beyond arousing, resulting in my pussy becoming drenched. I let out a guttural moan while my body quivered from the friction, my nipples rubbing against his pectoral muscles …

The charged scene took about an hour to finish. Then I immediately excused myself. Quite shaken, I was troubled by my reactions. I hadn’t been faking it. It had been real. As real as it could get for me.

Disconcerted and feeling all sorts of emotions ranging from diabolical to guilt, I shut myself in my trailer before I haphazardly changed into my clothes. I didn’t want to run into Juan.

Seven scenes. One down.Six moreto go.

Fuck. Me. Sideways.

If I could barely get through with onealmostorgasm on screen, how the hell would I handle six more? The answer, I didn’t want to ponder.

It took me less than ten minutes before I emerged from the trailer. I was too distraught to notice that someone was standing a few feet away, biding for the right moment to violate my thoughts.

“You look mad,” Juan quietly observed me. He didn’t move from his spot, as though he feared I was going to lash out on him or something along those lines.

He wasn’t an idiot. He knew I had been just as aroused as he had. He had also seen my horrified expression after the scene ended and I ran out of there as if Satan himself was chasing after me.

From where we stood, we could see the crew going in and out of the house. We were far enough not to be heard.

Sheen of sweat coated my forehead as I stared at him, deadpan. “It’s a first for me, so I didn’t know what to expect, and clearly, I didn’t expectthat.”

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s normal. I’d start to worry if it didn’t affect you.” A corner of his upper lip lifted as if he tried not to smile.

I glared at him. Hard. “This isn’t funny.” This wasn’t the time to make a mockery of things, most especially when it entailed my sanity and the state of my relationship with River. How could I fathom telling him the truth? He would be too offended that he mightn’t ever ask, but still …I’dknow.

“And I’m not laughing, Cara. You’ll get used to it. Trust me; after the second, third, fourth, we’d probably laugh this off.” His expression suggested otherwise.

Even from a distance, I could feel those eyes on me like an x-ray. They seared me from within, as if he was still gazing at my bare flesh, feasting on me. Nothing could be hidden from those dark depths, and I thought this was intentional. He was making me hyperaware of him.

A pang clutched around my heart, a sensation that momentarily gripped me as my mind did a hasty rundown of possible scenarios this could lead to, none of them good.

The only way I could avoid this was to run the other way, just as it should be.

Soft wind blew past us, sending goose bumps around my arms even though the summer heat still lingered. Glancing at his determined face, I waited to steady my breath before I addressed him with cool detachment.

“Have a good night, Juan. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I began to walk away without looking at him, and just when I went past his stoic form, he bid me goodnight.

“Buenas noches, cariña.”

Sweetheart. His use of endearment made things worse. It was as if he was telling me that I was somewhat his.

Tomorrow was another day. Another sex scene.

Though I trusted my heart, my body, on the other hand, after today’s aftermath, not so much.

God help me slay the demons that were closing in on me … fast.

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