Clara was slowly regaining consciousness. Her pillow was so comfortable; it was warm, smooth, smelled of sandalwood, and was, moving?
What the…
Opening her eyes slowly, her gaze clashed with a pair of warm chocolate ones. They held a warm softness that had an underlying hint of determination. Looking lower she could see a mouth set in the hinted determination.
Peering up at this huge strange man, who was walking swiftly through the forest with her cradled in his arms as though she weighed no more than a child, sent tumulus emotions through her; fear, confusion, worry, and oddly, desire.
She was utterly stunned. The man was gorgeous. He had long black hair that was pulled back somehow. Brown eyes that reminded her of a Hershey's bar, which she was now for some inexplicable reason craving. A straight, almost aristocratic nose that would have been perfect except for the slightest bit of a curve that said it had been broken at least once. But that didn't take away from his beauty, it enhanced it. It helped to make him look more masculine and rugged.
Then there were his lips. Clara couldn't get over the sensual bow of his upper lip combined with the temptingly full lower lip. She wanted to wrap her arms around his head and bring him down for a kiss that would tell her if he tasted as good as he looked. The 5 o'clock shadow only made the "wild man" look complete. Of course the bare chest and loincloth helped to cement the wild man look, too.
A Greek God out of one of her wildest fantasies, which she usually only shared with her removable shower head, was carrying her towards God knew where and all she could think about was how beautiful the man was.
Sweet Jesus, has it been that long? I'm letting some wild man carry me off to who knows where and all I can think about is if his upper lip tastes as good as it looks. I need committed,
she thought with disgust.
Rallying her courage, she was no wilting flower damn it all, she asked the giant in a steady, calm voice that she was far from feeling, "Who are you? What are you doing and why are you carrying me…" searching for just the right insult "…Jungle Man?…"
There was no response, his stride didn't falter for a second. If anything his eyes darkened with something Clara didn't want to know what, and he watched her lips move.
"Look buddy, thanks for saving me from that creep, Alano, he stunned me for a second but I can take care of myself from here on out, okay? So you can put me down." When he failed to comply with her wishes she added for his benefit, "Now would be great." Again he just watched her lips, as if fascinated by the movement. "Do you understand? I can walk, on my own."
When he just continued to look at her something made her wonder if he
could
understand what she was saying.
"Look Tarzan, if you can understand what I'm saying and just being difficult, just move your head. If you don't then I guess I know you can't understand me… Wouldn't that be just great", she muttered the last to herself.
Looking up at him expectantly she waited for what felt like forever but was most likely 5 seconds. Slowly as if amused by her, he moved his head up and then down once.
This infuriated Clara, "Okay Tarzan, you can obviously understand what I'm saying and yet you refuse to do as I ask. Why? Hmmm, you can't actually enjoy carting me around Tarzan, and where are you taking me?"
Watching her lips, closely and intently, he raised his head to look her in the eyes. A silent gasp and a tripping heartbeat later, Clara was looking at this stranger with some apprehension.
Slowly he said four words, "Manolito." He then set her down on her own feet and laid his hand on his chest. "Manolito", he repeated. Then just as slowly he extended his arm and touched her chest and said, "Mine." Pulling back an inch he touched her chest again, "Mine."
"Whoa whoa whoa. Are you kidding, there is no 'mine,' I am not a 'mine.'" Touching her chest she said slowly, "Clara, Clara." Touching her chest each time she said her name.
Reaching out he touched her chest and said, "Clara." There was such warmth and sheer happiness in his eyes at just saying her name, the intensity scared the beejesus out of her. He didn't know her, why would there be any kind of intensity when he looked at her?
Clara was worried. She thought that maybe he could understand some of her words but couldn't understand everything or what she wanted. She wanted to go home, back to the U.S., back to her family, back to ice cream and double mocha lattes… But that was beside the point. She had to find a way to get Tar- Manolito to understand her.
Did he even speak English, or did he just know a few words?
, she wondered.
Tuned to the thoughts going a thousand miles an hour through her head, Clara didn't notice right away that his eyes were heating up with something more than just "happiness." It wasn't until he had moved his hand to cup one of her breasts that she noticed this change in him.
There was a predatory edge to him. All of a sudden his face looked harsh, possessive, and
oh god here we go
, she thought, horny. "Look, Tar-, I mean Manolito, I ahhh…"
Suddenly thought was not possible as he began to pinch and roll her nipple. He seemed riveted to the sight of his massive hand engulfing her breast; hell she was too. Cradling it with an infinite gentleness that was completely at odds with the hard and pleasurable ministrations her nipple was receiving.
Holy shit, I am letting Tarzan, wait no, Manolito, feel me up. Oh lord
, she thought. What was she supposed to do: it wasn't every day the object of ones fantasies felt one up.
Right when Clara felt enough sanity to command him to stop, he chose that instant to lift his other hand and pay homage to her other lonely and neglected nipple.
"Please Manolito, please…," she was whimpering for him to do something, she just didn't know what exactly. Gathering her last shreds of control, Clara found the strength to take a step back and away from his hands.
This didn't do any good at all because Manolito just followed her, stalking her like she was his prey.
Back peddling until she was up against a tree, Clara put her hand out as if to stop Manolito.
Ohh
, she thought. He felt so good. She could feel his muscles rippling under her hand, the hand that was supposed to be keeping him back but was now smoothing across his chest, feeling and learning everything to know about it.
Manolito groaned at her touch. She was driving him crazy he thought. He leaned forward and nuzzled the sensitive skin where neck met shoulder. Trailing his mouth along until he found the hollow of her neck.
Mine
, he thought savagely, happily.
He couldn't explain how he knew this, or why he felt this. It just was. She was everything he could ever want and he intended to keep her.