A Week to be Wild

by JC Harroway

  His words—so intoxicating—wrapped themselves around her, a warm cradle. She fought the urge to succumb to them, to blurt out her every wish, every fear, her very soul to him. But she pulled back, forcing herself to stay in command of herself and the heady situation.

  If she couldn’t have what she wanted, she’d have what she needed right now. And that was Alex.

  He’d agreed to play this game by her rules. The fine line of control and concession was a greased tightrope under her feet. But if he intended to push her out of her comfort zone with daredevil pursuits, she’d push back. Force his natural alpha tendencies into submission. See how far she could take him before he snapped.

  She turned, and his warmth seared the tips of her breasts mere millimetres from his chest. ‘I want you to watch me strip.’

  He nodded, face grim, nostrils flared. Euphoria surged inside her, robbing her limbs of structure until she stepped backwards to the bed, pressing her legs against the mattress to keep herself upright.

  Just like the night before, Alex stayed where she’d directed him. His limbs twitched as she worked the buttons loose on her blouse, his palms curled into white-knuckled fists.

  Libby slid the silk from her shoulders. The slow glide was torturous on her sensitised skin, which prickled under his heated stare until every tiny hair stood on end. She unclasped her bra, releasing aching breasts, and tossed it on top of the blouse.

  ‘Fuck...’ Alex hissed, eyes almost black, staring blatantly.

  Libby felt his gaze slide over her nipples as if he’d touched her with those slightly callused hands of his. Her knees buckled. She could almost feel his mouth on her breasts, his bold tongue laving and lashing. In denying him, she denied herself, but the reward would be worth the wait.

  She unzipped her skirt with trembling fingers and hooked her thumbs into the waistband, pushing both it and her panties to the floor in one swoop. Every second she tortured him, she tortured herself. The need to see him naked, to touch him, clawed at her, stifling the breath in her lungs until her head buzzed with lack of oxygen.

  He teetered towards her, rocking on the balls of his feet.

  ‘Keep the shoes.’ Gruff. A command.

  Libby raised one brow, a twist to her mouth. ‘Is that what you want?’

  His command thrilled her. Hers to concede or deny. She’d love to see the excitement flare in his eyes as it had when she’d unclasped her bra. But this was her game. Her rules.

  He nodded, his stare travelling the length of her naked body, stopping to linger on her breasts, the juncture of her thighs and the four-inch heels. When his eyes detoured to the scars on her left hip, she shifted her arm, hiding them from his view. She couldn’t go there.

  His chest rose and fell, his fingers clenching and unclenching at his sides, and Libby guessed she didn’t have long to enjoy the power trip. But it was worth it. Any scrap of command she held over the scorching chemistry between them kept her grounded, reminding her that this was a game. No feelings allowed.

  With a small smile she steadied herself on one of the simple posts of his contemporary four-poster bed and removed first one shoe and then another, her challenging glare pinning him to the spot.

  The muscles of his jaw bunched as he lost the battle to meet her eyes and flicked his gaze over her nakedness once more.

  ‘What do you want?’ His sexy voice held an almost desperate edge.

  Libby exhaled. He was still with her. His reactions matching her own.

  ‘I want you naked.’

  She’d barely finished speaking before he’d heeled off his shoes and reached behind him to tug his T-shirt up and over his head. He tossed it away, his other hand tugging at the button fly of his jeans, and with rapid jerky movements pushed his jeans and tight cotton boxers down his muscular thighs, kicking them away.

  Libby’s mouth had forgotten how to make saliva. She’d been right. His body was a magnificent display of long lean muscles encased in golden skin and scattered with a liberal sprinkling of dark hair, and it stole her ability to think. Her eyes followed the dark scatter of hair covering his pecs, touched on the ink decorating one shoulder and one side of his ribs before dipping to the trail of black hair below his navel that merged with the thatch at the base of his spectacular manhood.

  Her brain shut down completely. Alex Lancaster, a specimen of male perfection in his prime, was completely at her disposal.

  Awareness returned, and the slight chill of the dimly lit room countered the fire raging inside her. Her nipples pebbled, and moisture gathered between her thighs, She pressed them together to ease the hollow ache inside.

  He rolled on the balls of his feet, every muscle tense as if he was forcing himself to stay away from her, at the distance she’d set.

  ‘What do you want?’

  More desperation, mimicking the same thing firing along every nerve ending in her body.

  ‘I...’ Him. She wanted him. ‘What do you want?’

  His stare burned into hers. ‘Everything.’ His voice a low rumble. ‘I want all of you.’

  As if slapped, she sobered. His stark declaration brought her back to her senses. She couldn’t give him that. She’d done that once. Loved. Planned. Built a future. And she’d lost it all.

  The floor solidified under her feet and resolve returned. ‘I want you to fuck me.’ That’s all.

  In two long strides he reached her. His mouth crashed to hers, guided by her tug to the back of his neck, and she moaned, the relief so overwhelming that if he hadn’t banded his arms around her waist, she’d have collapsed to the floor. Her fingers tunnelled through the silky strands of his hair and she parted her lips, welcoming the surge of his powerful tongue with one of her own. Her hands roamed, glorying in the smooth fragrance of skin stretched over hard planes of taut muscle, every inch of him a tactile feast for her fingertips.

  He slotted one thick thigh between her legs, the spring of his chest hair grazing her nipples as he pressed closer. Libby rubbed her wet sex on his leg, the friction sublime, but not nearly enough. She tore her mouth from his, her head spinning with an oxygen-deprived head-rush.

  ‘Now, Alex. Now.’

  She reached between them, her hand circling his hard length, the satiny skin sliding over the steel beneath as she worked him from root to tip.

  He stared, his chest working furiously, his mouth swollen and his eyes heavy-lidded.

  She wanted him inside her. Yesterday.

  With a grunt, he lifted her, depositing her in the centre of the bed and following her down. But rather than settling himself between her spread thighs, as she craved, he dipped his head to her breast, his mouth covering her nipple, sucking her inside the moist warmth.

  Libby cried out, her flash of disappointment banished by sublime pleasure. Better than she’d imagined...the fantasy a poor relation to the reality. His cheeks hollowed as he drew more of her flesh inside, his tongue flicking the nub erect and then his teeth scraping with just a bite of pain—enough to shoot sensation to her core in a prelude to the spasms she hoped would soon follow.

  As if he’d seen this arc of sensation he spread her thighs wider with his knees, his fingers finding her slick centre, homing in on her clit with pinpoint accuracy and the perfect amount of pressure.

  She whimpered, her fingers frantic in his hair as he abandoned one nipple in favour of the second. There was no reprieve from his relentless barrage. His tongue laved, his fingers swirled and plunged, and Libby forgot to breathe as coils of rapture wrapped around her from the inside out.

  His dark lashes fluttered open, his stare finding hers as his mouth curled around her breast.

  ‘Alex...’ She was close, so close. She wanted him inside her, but she wouldn’t make it.

  He growled—a feral noise from the back of his cultured throat, as if encouraging her over the edge. Libby latched on to the dark swirls
of his irises as his mouth and fingers continued to drag every drop of bliss from her strung-out body.

  Her orgasm blindsided her, slamming her back into the mattress with a ragged cry. The spasms rocked her. Alex kept her thighs spread with his, his hand working furiously and his mouth relentless at her breast.

  She shoved at him, the pleasure too intense. But he’d drained her of any strength she possessed and her hands flailed uselessly at his shoulders as he abandoned her clit but continued to suckle at her sensitive nipple.

  ‘Stop...please.’ She lay boneless, her head swimming.

  He pulled back, releasing her from his wicked mouth and pursing his swollen lips to blow a stream of air over her wet, puckered nipple. He smiled. A predatory kind of smile. If she’d had any energy she’d have clawed back command of the situation. But she could only watch as he crawled over her, his lips grazing a path from her ribs across her belly and to the tops of her thighs.

  He held her open, kissing first one thigh and then the other before staring at her sex with uninhibited candour and blowing cool air over her wet lips.

  ‘Alex...’ He’d completely disarmed her. And he still hadn’t given her what she’d asked for. This was her game. Her rules.

  With a lazy smile he kissed one thigh again and then climbed from the bed. His muscular ass flexed as he strode to the nightstand. Amazed that she had any hormones left, Libby licked her lips. The clench of his buttocks and the jut of his thick, proud cock was enough to create an impressive second wind.

  What was happening to her? She should leave. Show him she was still in control here. But she craved him inside her as much as she enjoyed her power over their liaison. Shoving away doubts, and the sting of memories, she focussed on him, compelling her breathing into a deep, regular pattern.

  He returned to the bedside, his bold gaze on her as he tore open a condom packet with his teeth and rolled the latex down his length with practised, single-handed skill.

  ‘Come here.’

  He held out his hand and Libby moved to the edge of the bed before him. He pushed her back until she rested on her elbows and then leaned over her, cupping her face in both hands and kissing her with a passion that stole her sanity and sent fresh spasms through her pelvis. Pulling back, he splayed his large hands on her thighs, slowly easing her open, his gaze darting between her face and her exposed sex.

  The way he looked at her... As if he was seconds away from devouring her whole. And that was exactly how she felt. Consumed. His stare alone took her there.

  ‘I’m going to fuck you now. That’s what you want?’

  She nodded, her blood boiling, any snarky retort lost behind her paralysed tongue. If she’d thought businessman, philanthropic, surfer dude Alex was hot, this determined, focussed man scorched the flesh from her bones.

  He leaned over her, jaw rigid, and locked his arms either side of her head. Libby lay back, shifting her hips to the edge of the bed. He looked down between their bodies, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. With one hand he gripped the base of his magnificent cock and angled the tip at her entrance. Slowly his gaze locked with hers, and with the scent of sex wafting up between them, carried on a wave of body heat, he pushed inside her.

  ‘Alex—’

  His mouth stole her words, his kiss searing as he stretched her, working his way in to the hilt. She whimpered, her nails raking his flanks and her calves pressed to his glorious backside, encouraging him all the way in.

  Pulling back from the kiss, he removed her hands from his back, one by one, and his fingers slotted between hers as he pressed their joined hands into the mattress beside her head. Staring down at her, he began to move. Slowly at first, letting her body grow accustomed to him. But then he clenched his jaw and picked up the pace.

  Libby closed her eyes—and then slammed them open again, unwilling to miss one second of seeing him stretched above her, his face contorted with pleasure and beads of sweat gathering at his hairline. This time he’d come. She’d make him come.

  With every pummelling stroke he shunted her on the bed, the edge of the mattress providing a landing place for the force of his thrusts.

  ‘Libby...’ His eyes widened, nostrils flaring.

  ‘What do you want?’ she asked.

  She saw the battle in him, and knew she’d give him anything in that moment. Just for the thrill of witnessing his loss of control. The knowledge that she took him there.

  He released her hands. ‘Touch your nipples.’

  Another command. But she complied, too delirious to care about power play. Her fingers plucked at her breasts, twisting and rolling. Alex watched, his jaw hardening, and a strangled groan rumbled up from his chest.

  His hips jerked in a relentless pounding that pushed her closer and closer. When he reached one hand down between them, pressed his thumb down on her clit, she exploded, every muscle in her body rigid as her internal muscles clung to his pistoning cock.

  Alex roared, his head thrown back, neck taut, his hips slamming home one last time.

  ‘Fuck... Libby...’

  He ground against her as his breathing slowed, forcing the last ripples of pleasure from her core.

  After long, delirious seconds, he dropped a chaste kiss on her mouth.

  Reality surged.

  Libby winced as he gripped the base of the condom and withdrew, the slide of him over sensitised tissue bordering on pain. Allowing herself one last indulgence, she watched him saunter to the en-suite bathroom, his gait a little unsteady.

  Despite the tremors and aftershocks jarring her body, Libby flew from the bed, donning her skirt and blouse and stuffing her damp underwear into her bag. She’d never undone her hair, but it had suffered nonetheless. Tucking the wayward strands back into their braid as best she could, she slipped on her jacket just as a still gloriously naked Alex re-entered the room.

  He stalled. ‘You’re leaving?’ His sexy, just-fucked features hardened.

  ‘Yes.’ Shoulders back, as if she was convincing herself.

  He raked at his dishevelled hair. ‘And if I wanted you to stay?’

  She swallowed, lifting her chin.

  She couldn’t stay. She’d wanted a fuck. She’d got what she wanted. It had to be enough.

  He understood. His jaw bunched and he looked away with a small nod.

  Without another word he tugged on his discarded clothes. The atmosphere in the room that still smelled of the intimacies they’d shared chilled Libby to the bone.

  Alex grabbed his keys from the dresser, turning to lance her with his black stare. ‘Will you at least stay in my hotel?’

  He shoved his free hand in his front pocket.

  Her face burned as if craving the slide of his warm palm. She missed the warmth in his amber eyes. Missed his smile.

  Libby nodded. She couldn’t expect him to fly her back to London—not if they had to return here in the morning to put their lives at the mercy of a wicker basket and a giant nylon balloon.

  ‘I’ll drive you over.’

  ‘I can live with that.’

  Chapter Six

  ALEX RAPPED ON the door of one of the hotel’s standard rooms, biting back his frustration. He’d instructed the duty manager to give Olivia the best suite—an elegant penthouse with spectacular rural views of Oxfordshire’s rolling countryside—but clearly she’d undermined him.

  He’d never met such a stubborn, independent woman. The women in his past had been happy to accept his wealth, take his gifts and his generosity, share his affluent lifestyle.

  The door opened and his annoyance evaporated. The sight of her sucker-punched him in his gut. She’d pulled her hair into a high ponytail—he’d yet to see her long hair down, wild around her face—and she wore jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. He’d had her belongings delivered to the hotel from London last night, after she’d begrudgingly accep
ted his offer of accommodation.

  Hadn’t that been a kick in the balls? He’d wanted her in his bed. He’d fantasised about releasing her hair from its strict braid, waking to find the glossy mass splayed over his pillow or, better, his chest. He’d hoped to spend the night, or this morning, or both, between her shapely thighs, dragging reckless abandon from her with every orgasm. But she’d denied him again, drawing him back to the bargain they’d struck.

  It was still dark outside. In the dim glow of her darkened room behind her, he saw her laptop open on the bed. Had she been working? Speaking to someone in America? Booking a flight home?

  ‘Ready to go?’

  He clenched his jaw, teeth creaking. He knew nothing personal about her outside of the fact that she was a vegetarian and hated helicopters. Nothing he hadn’t gleaned from her company website and her business profile.

  Time to change that.

  She nodded, her hair swaying. His palms itched to wind that hair round his hand and draw her close for a good morning kiss. The one he’d have given her if she’d awoken in his bed this morning. The one she’d cheated him out of.

  He forced his hands to relax.

  She glanced down at his side. He held out the puffer jacket embroidered with the Able-Active logo.

  ‘A gift. It gets pretty cold up there.’ He pointed skywards.

  She blinked, face stony and a little pale, eyeing the jacket as if it was stuffed with snakes, not duck down.

  ‘Thank you. But gifts aren’t necessary.’

  So prim this morning. Unlike last night, when she’d twisted his hair so hard she’d almost scalped him.

  ‘No?’ Fuck, it wasn’t as if he’d handed her diamonds, or even flowers. ‘But here it is anyway.’

  It was just a jacket. He doubted she’d packed any serious outdoor gear for a business trip.

  ‘Is there a problem outside of the gift?’

  Perhaps she was as cranky at waking alone as he was. Perhaps, like him, she’d woken fully aroused and feeling around the empty bed, the rush of erotic memories making her groan into her pillow. Perhaps he should abandon the hot air balloon trip, suggest they relocate to the palatial suite he’d reserved for her upstairs and christen every surface until he’d made her come so many times she wouldn’t be able to help the smile on her face.