Page 79 of Savage


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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 muchbegged meto 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 wasbegging. 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?YouthinkI 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—hiswhispers—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 covered 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.

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