Driving Him Wild

by Zara Cox

Only to come downstairs to this stomach-hollowing situation.

  He gently massaged my muscles, intent on grounding me in the present when I wanted to flee both it and the pain-ridden past.

  And go where? Into a future filled with uncertainty? God, when had my future become so bleak?

  When he knelt at your feet and gifted you with possibilities you knew you’d have to walk away from.

  The raw, soul-shaking admission turned my insides out even more than the last few minutes had. My gaze lifted to the picture propped up above the fireplace. My breath caught; I barely recognised the woman in the photo.

  He wanted to know when I’d last experienced that kind of...joy?

  ‘It was the last time I saw my mother before she left me for good.’

  I wasn’t aware I’d spoken the words aloud until his fingers moved again, gliding up and down my leg in silent reassurance.

  But with the words out, I couldn’t hide any more. ‘I didn’t know it was the last time, of course. She was getting dressed to go to some function or other. I didn’t ask because I was so surprised she’d let me into her bedroom at all, never mind her dressing room. Both were strictly off-limits to every one of us. But that day was different. She was...strangely indulgent, didn’t berate me when I played dress up with the diamonds she’d expressly forbidden me from touching.’

  ‘How old were you?’

  ‘I’d turned nine a couple of days before.’ The recollection brought a small smile, my mother’s presence at my ninth birthday a wonderful phenomenon in itself that’d made my small heart burst with joy, the belief that my fractured family was on its way to becoming whole again, a sacred conviction I’d nurtured for days. A wish I’d refused to let Gideon’s condescending sneers ruin. I’d later discovered that he’d somehow known it was a foolish dream. My clever brother, perhaps the cleverest one of us, had seen what was coming, used his trademark sarcasm and icy indifference to safeguard himself against hurt. He’d known what was coming but had kept it to himself.

  I hadn’t been so lucky...

  Jensen’s hand wrapped around my ankle, infusing warmth into me, as if it would lessen the pain of the recounting. Nothing could. But I appreciated the gesture.

  ‘I was tall for my age and my mother and I were of a similar build.’ We were more than that. My mother had given birth to a near replica of herself, the only differences between us the hazel eyes inherited from the Mortimer gene and my black hair to her chestnut waves.

  ‘So she let you play with her stuff...’ Jensen coaxed.

  ‘Normally it took her hours to get ready. This time she took even longer. And I got to spend every minute with her.’ My heart stuttered and my fist tightened at the recollection. ‘I don’t even remember what we talked about. I really wish I did. I wish I’d paid better attention...’

  ‘The time spent was more important than the words said.’

  ‘Was it, though? Because she left for her party and I never saw her again.’

  His fingers tightened on my skin. ‘What?’

  ‘She was done being a mother. She wanted to live her life. Those hours in her dressing room may have been her way of saying goodbye. Or maybe it was just a meaningless indulgence for her. Thing is, I never got the chance to find out.’

  Jensen exhaled slowly, then turned to drop a kiss on my knee.

  I was glad he wasn’t looking at me. I didn’t think I could bear him witnessing my pain. Not that he didn’t have a very good idea. He was far too clever for that.

  ‘My brothers and I found out later that it’d been their intention all along. To leave that night and never return.’

  Jensen frowned. ‘Both your parents left?’

  ‘Yes.’ My throat was clogged with ravaging pain. ‘It became sort of a recurring theme. My cousin Damien’s parents did the same thing too.’

  He cursed under his breath. ‘Who told you?’ he asked.

  ‘My aunt Flo knew. Hell, she probably tried to stop them because...well, that’s the kind of person she is. She didn’t succeed, obviously. So a day after spending what I thought was the start of the mother-daughter bonding I’d dreamt about, I was effectively an orphan, despite my parents still being alive.’

  ‘Min Gud,’ he muttered under his breath.

  My fingers weaved through his hair, anchoring myself. He made a thick, pleased sound at the back of his throat, leaned into my touch.

  ‘Was that what drove you and your brothers apart?’ he asked after a minute.

  Fresh anguish washed over me. ‘No. That was all me.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘I got it into my head that I could make things right, get my mother to come home. I begged and badgered my way into getting them to agree for us to write letters to my mother. It took a few months but I finally got them on board.’

  ‘Did she reply?’

  I laughed again, but the sound broke apart, catching the sharp edge of my grief. ‘Oh, yes, she did.’

  ‘Graciela...kæreste...’

  I didn’t know what the endearment meant, but I shook my head, eager to dispel the threat of tears and unlock the lump lodged in my throat. ‘I’m fine. It’s fine,’ I insisted.

  His fingers drifted up my calf. ‘It’s not. You know that as well as I do.’

  ‘You’re supposed to agree with me.’

  ‘I do, for the most part. You did what you needed to try to make your family whole again.’

  ‘No, I pushed and control-freaked my way into making things worse.’

  ‘What did she say in her reply?’

  That knot built in my throat again. ‘In a nutshell? That I wasn’t worth it.’

  He inhaled sharply. ‘Graciela...’

  I didn’t look down, didn’t want to see sympathy or pity or embrace any form of gentleness. I was too scared my lacerated heart would fracture into a million pieces if I succumbed to the promise of empathy. Did I deserve it? When I’d dragged everyone down with me into the pits of despair?

  ‘No one blames you for trying—’

  I laughed again, my fingers tightening in his hair to stop his words. ‘Oh, believe me, they do. Gideon most definitely did. He didn’t hold back. Bryce was soft-hearted enough not to hurt my feelings with his words, but I could see in his eyes that he totally blamed me. I ruined us, Jensen. He went from being a loving and carefree younger brother to avoiding me every chance he got. I was a pariah in my own home. I’d enter a room and they’d leave. In the end I begged Aunt Flo to send me to boarding school. Then I charmed my way into mid-term breaks and school vacations with any friend who would have me because I couldn’t face going home. And it worked. I didn’t go home for two years, was terrified of returning home to the same hatred. It was why...’ I pressed my lips together, holding in the last, heart-wrenching confession. But still he pressed.

  ‘Why what?’

  ‘Why I hated myself even more when I found out later that she came back.’

  Blue eyes found mine. ‘She returned?’

  ‘For unannounced visits. She’d breeze in, drop off presents, then breeze out again. Or so I was told.’

  ‘Maybe she wanted to reconnect?’

  I shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t know. She never asked for me. She knew where I was but she never came to see me in school. She never reached out. It was almost like... I was dead to her. And that made me angry, Jensen. Angrier than I’ve ever been in my life.’

  ‘That’s understandable. She hurt you.’

  ‘Yes, she did. But was it enough for me to wish her dead? Because that was exactly what I did. I wished her dead, and a few months later she died.’

  The cold jagged pain of that admission froze me from the inside out.

  I barely registered Jensen twisting around, his strong arms lifting me off the sofa and into his lap and wrapping around me. The tightness in my throat unravelled, dis
solving into hot, gulping tears that shook the very foundations of my soul.

  Through it all, he held me close, running his fingers through my hair and down my back without saying a word. When I was wrung dry, he brushed a kiss against my temple.

  ‘You were heartbroken and lashed out. That makes you human. If wishing ill on someone actually guaranteed a desired result, my father would’ve been six feet under the first time I saw bruises on my mother and little sister. Life doesn’t work that way, kæreste. Sometimes the assholes who cause pain get to live long, hopefully miserable lives.’

  I raised my head, saw my pain reflected in his eyes. ‘Your father?’

  He nodded. ‘I don’t know where he is, but only because I’ve never bothered to find out. The third time I stood up to him, he went out drinking and never returned. So you see, I was responsible for driving my parent away too, but I don’t regret it. I’d do it again in a heartbeat. I wanted him gone with every fibre of my being.’

  I remained silent, unable to do anything but absorb his warmth, his sheer perfection. With his lips still trailing down my face, he reached for the box of tissues sitting on the coffee table.

  I plucked out a few, blew my nose and scrubbed away the remainder of my tears. I didn’t feel whole, would probably never be whole again, but I felt less...tormented, less burdened. The fact that it was Jensen who’d done this to me, for me, triggered a whole new layer of panic. The weight of what I felt for him terrified me. Everything I’d dreamed of had broken up beneath the pressure of my yearning.

  Like a butterfly held too tight, I tended to crush the wings of things that were precious to me. And he was fast becoming precious, right up there with things I didn’t want to lose.

  Which brought its own bracing demand. What right did I have to him?

  His lips drifted down my cheek, lingered at the corner of my mouth, and I conveniently sidestepped the questions teeming inside. ‘I look a mess.’

  He kissed me firmer, his lips more demanding. ‘No, you look beautiful.’

  Blind panic made me turn to him, seal my lips against his. I didn’t want to hear the words. Didn’t want to open my heart to a promise that would never be fulfilled. The contents of my mother’s letter blazed through my mind, reminding me that I wasn’t enough. I would never be enough.

  His arms tightened around me, his eager lips surrendering to mine as I deepened the kiss. I wound my arms around his neck, repositioned myself so I was astride him on the floor. The blanket gaped open and his hands slid beneath, gliding down my side to grip my hips, hold me close as we leaned into the kiss.

  Between my legs, he was rock-hard, a thrilling reality, a consuming storm I could drown in, forget about my emotional turmoil. I shrugged off the blanket completely, my fingers dancing down his muscled chest to stroke the bulge that promised oblivion.

  ‘Fuck me, Jensen.’

  He shuddered against me. Then he pulled back, just enough to meet my gaze. ‘I’m dying to, min elskede, but we don’t have a condom down here.’

  I didn’t want a reprieve from this madness; didn’t want time and space to thrust me back into the emotional grinder I’d just been through. So I took a breath. ‘It’s fine. I...’ trust you. I barely stopped myself, my heart lurching wildly at the dangerous words I’d almost uttered.

  I’d only known him a matter of days. This was the proximity talking. We’d been cooped up in this cabin with no other outlet than to fuck and bare ourselves to each other. I was letting my emotions get carried away. Another mistake I’d regret if I didn’t rein myself back in. ‘I’m on the Pill. It’s fine.’

  His eyes lingered on mine, delving beneath the matter-of-fact words to find their true meaning. I rocked my hips over him, and the distraction worked like a charm. His fingers tightened on my hips and his gaze fell to my breasts. With a deep groan, he dipped his head and sucked one nipple into his mouth. I clutched him to me, throwing my head back in wild abandon as I drowned in the unique passion he invoked.

  This was...should be...just sex. Good sex I was in danger of sullying with emotion.

  Again my heart shook at the half-lie, another fastening tearing itself from my control. It was almost as if it wanted to free itself, soar where I couldn’t allow it. I couldn’t risk the responsibility of him, couldn’t risk turning another person against me.

  Thankfully thoughts ceased to matter as ecstasy took over.

  He bent me backwards until my hair brushed the floor. Then he rained kisses down my front to the top of my mound. I revelled in the heat of his hands and mouth, in the thick Danish words he whispered over my skin.

  His thumb strummed my clit and I cried out. He toyed mercilessly with the swollen bud, didn’t stop until I was mindless. Until sating this insane need was all I could think of.

  Repositioning myself back on top of him, I speared my fingers through his hair and dragged his gaze to mine. His face, powerfully lust ravaged, was the most perfect image I’d ever seen. ‘I want you inside me. Now.’

  He raised his hips off the floor just enough to yank down his jogging bottoms. The moment his erection was freed, I braced myself on my knees, spread my thighs wide. Jensen gripped his cock, his other hand clutching my hip, and with his eyes rapt on my face, absorbing my every action, I lowered myself onto him.

  ‘Min elskede. You feel so good,’ he groaned.

  The gruffness in his voice made me wonder if I’d misheard the word, but I didn’t care. He was inside me. I was mindless with bliss, free from memories and pain. The lack of a condom’s barrier was equally thrilling, adding a layer of intimacy I’d never imagined. It was probably that, and not the lightened weight in my heart. Or the hushed voice at the back of my head suggesting I wasn’t quite as hopeless, quite as deplorable, that I might be worth something if this formidable creature possessing me believed so...which brought tears to the act. Which made me want to burrow inside this bubble and never emerge.

  Whatever it was, it culminated in soul-searing pleasure that made me scream with the sacredness of it. My orgasm went on for ever, my whole body shaking, my heart hammering as fresh tears formed behind my eyelids.

  I wrapped myself around him, rejoiced in his shout of release and the power of him pulsing inside me. We shuddered uncontrollably in the aftermath, clinging to each other, our breaths ragged as we slowly came down from the highest high. His hands trailed down my back, over my hips and thighs until our breaths returned to normal.

  ‘I’d like to shower with you. And then I’d very much like to feed you. May I?’ Jensen asked, his breath brushing my ear.

  Normality. Or a semblance of it.

  I wanted to kiss him for not making a big thing out of this. Instead, I nodded. ‘Your mistress would like that very much.’

  I felt his smile against my jaw as he adjusted me in his arms, then lithely rose from the floor without dislodging me.

  God, that was sexy.

  I managed a smile as he raced us up the stairs.

  We were both wrung out, didn’t speak as we entered the large shower stall. Jensen washed me from head to toe, his hands firm, adoring. When he was done, he sank down to his knees, silently offered the shower gel to me.

  I returned the favour, lingering longest in his glorious hair before washing his sculpted, mouth-watering body. After dressing, we returned downstairs, where I was confronted with my images. For a panicked moment I wanted to order him to take down the pictures. I could tell he was bracing himself for it. The words never came. I’d revealed the worst of my secrets to him. What was a picture or six?

  When he realised I was going to leave them be, a smile broke out on his face. A smile that made my heart bang hard again. Dear God, I was in danger of expiring from heart failure if this continued.

  And it couldn’t really continue...

  As we ate breakfast mostly in silence, that thought solidified. After what he’d been
through, Jensen needed someone unbroken. Someone not quite so...flawed. Twisted and riddled with dysfunction. Someone who didn’t live in torment or trail bitterness and disappointment behind her.

  So in a way, I accepted fate’s decision when the unfamiliar sound disturbed the silence. We both started, Jensen’s gaze narrowing as it swung upward to where the sound emitted from the bedroom. ‘It’s your phone,’ he said, his voice dark and subdued.

  My satellite phone. My route out of here.

  I hadn’t used it for days, not even to check in with my staff because I’d been wholly enraptured and encapsulated in this delusional bubble we’d created for ourselves. But now, my life was stridently calling. I ignored the ashen taste in my mouth at the thought of leaving, stood and went up the stairs to retrieve it.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Miss Mortimer? It’s your pilot. I’ve been given the all-clear to fly. The forecast predicts another storm later today, so this is our only window.’

  I heard a noise behind me and turned around.

  Jensen stood in the doorway, his piercing gaze pinned on me. For a long stretch, we both remained frozen.

  ‘Miss Mortimer? Would you like me to pick you up?’

  My gaze darted wildly around the bedroom, the place I’d experienced fulfilment such as I’d never known. When I glanced back at him, Jensen was striding forwards, his jaw set, but appeal in his eyes. It wasn’t a request I could grant. Not without disappointing him eventually, hurting us both.

  ‘Yes. Please come and get me. Hold on a second.’ I held the phone out to Jensen. ‘Can you tell my pilot how to find me, please?’

  He took the phone from me, but didn’t raise it to his ear. ‘I thought we were going to talk about this?’ he hissed. ‘Make other plans—’

  I shook my head. ‘No, we weren’t. The storm was going to let up eventually. And I was going to leave. You know that.’

  ‘Graciela,’ he gritted out, stormy shadows moving over his face. ‘This isn’t done. Stay.’

  Every cell in my body screamed with the need to say yes. I shook my head harder. ‘What’s that going to achieve? You’ve wrung me dry. Be content with that.’