Driving Him Wild

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Driving Him Wild Page 15

by Zara Cox


  A gift I didn’t deserve, but was too selfish, too greedy to turn away. ‘I hope you’re not awfully disappointed if that conversation is one-sided,’ I sniped, distressed by the dominion he seemed to have over my emotions. ‘Undress,’ I ordered, kicking my shoes off before stepping out of my own clothes.

  Naked, I pulled out one of the conference room chairs, sat down and then slowly cupped my breasts and toyed with the peaks as I watched him tear off his clothes.

  His cock jerked, a drop of moisture already beading the tip of the broad head. Tugging, twisting, tormenting the hard tips, I opened my senses to self-pleasure, intensified by the rapt look on his face as I arched my back.

  My pussy throbbed and clenched around the promise of his cock. When I moaned, his lips parted on a harsh pant.

  Abandoning one tight peak, I trailed my hand down my midriff, my fingernails drawing shivers over my skin and trailing goosebumps down my navel to my hairless mound. There I rested for a moment, revelling in the agitated rise and fall of his chest and my own dark pleasure.

  Slowly, I parted my thighs. His gaze zeroed in on my wetness, and I spread my legs wider. He groaned and licked his lower lip.

  Stark, anguished need intensified on his face and his thighs shook beneath the force of his desire.

  I slid two fingers on either side of my wetness, pinching my labia tight. The zap of lust was nearly my undoing. Jensen growled beneath his breath, and I knew he was on the verge of begging.

  Except he wouldn’t. He had his instructions, and, sublime sub that he was, he would obey to his dying breath.

  Enjoy this while you can.

  I refocused on him. His gaze was still riveted to the fingers gliding up and down my folds. ‘Do you want to taste me, Jensen?’

  He groaned. ‘Yes, min elskerinde.’

  I slid one finger inside. Then two. Deep. Deeper to my second knuckle. Rolled my hips to get them deeper, then drew them out. Held them up in front of his face.

  He inhaled long and deep, licked his lips again. But he didn’t move. Didn’t even beseech me with his eyes. He simply...waited.

  Flooring me with his control. Making me want to reward him. ‘Taste.’

  The words were barely out of my mouth before he grasped my wrist, wrapped his mouth around my fingers, drawing deep. The strength of his suction made me flinch. He felt it and immediately eased, his eyes flashing an apology as he glided his tongue over my digits, eagerly lapping up my essence. His deep grunt of satisfaction trebled my need. Hunger flaring wider, I dropped my other hand between my legs and slowly fucked myself.

  He followed every movement, cock bobbing up and down. A thicker bead welled, then trailed down the underside of his cock. Veins stood out in hungry relief. I knew he was suffering.

  ‘Would you like to come with me, Jensen?’

  Again, he hesitated a fraction. ‘I would like to fuck you, min elskerinde. It would be a privilege to come inside you. But...’

  ‘But what?’

  Pure torment darkened his eyes. ‘I don’t have a condom.’

  ‘I feel like we’ve been here before.’

  He jerked out a nod.

  ‘Has anything changed since then?’

  His eyes narrowed, a gleam I couldn’t decode lighting the depths. ‘Not sexually for me, no.’

  ‘Nothing has changed for me, either.’

  His gaze swept down, and I got the feeling my answer had pleased him. More than anything I wanted to know what he was thinking...feeling.

  I didn’t ask. I didn’t have the right. Never would.

  Best keep this to just sex. Pure, unadulterated sex.

  ‘If we’re agreed, then what are you waiting for?’

  * * *

  He insisted on taking me home afterwards, dismissing my driver with a few words when we exited the building. Words that seemed to be the last he was going to utter as we rode through London in charged silence. Maybe it was the after-sex endorphins zipping through my blood I didn’t want to deplete by acknowledging the dark, bleak finality racing towards us. Or worse, that Jensen had finally accepted it too.

  At my door, he stared down at me for tense seconds, his eyes inscrutable.

  I opened my mouth, but words refused to form, thoughts fraying to nothing because there was nothing to reach for. Hell, even uttering goodbye felt insurmountable.

  ‘Goodbye, Graciela,’ Jensen murmured heavily, apparently having no trouble with the word.

  I didn’t respond. Couldn’t.

  Could only watch as he sauntered back to his car.

  * * *

  I thought I knew what pain was.

  The days that followed Jensen’s departure introduced me to a whole new level of desolation.

  So when Elsa slid the envelope addressed to me on my desk, I barely glanced at it. Barely had the strength to lift it.

  When I summoned the energy to open it, the power of my need floored me.

  Hands shaking, I read and re-read the words.

  Don’t fire her, but Elsa tells me you have no firm plans for Christmas.

  Join me for a private event in Copenhagen next week.

  I guarantee a misery-free and unforgettable adventure.

  Spend a day or a week. Your choice.

  Come and I’ll tell you about the whales.

  Jensen

  CHAPTER TEN

  I SHIFTED AGAINST the soft leather of the town car, my booted foot bouncing on the foot well carpet.

  Nerves threatened to turn me inside out. But my gaze remained fixed on the entrance to the airport’s arrival hall. Jaw clenched, I tried to regulate my breathing.

  Adrenaline was good in any situation. It kept you sharp, focused. Nerves, on the other hand, were...bad. And since I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been this nervous, I was lost as to how to deal with it.

  I laughed under my breath. That seemed to be the recurring theme when it came to dealing with Graciela.

  She’d kept me in suspense for six long days, refused to give me an answer to my invitation, drawing out my nerves until I’d thought I would snap. When she’d eventually answered, she’d done so through Elsa, giving just a date and time of her flight and nothing more.

  I’d wanted to meet her inside the airport but decided against it.

  The last thing I wanted was to set the tabloid press after her. And while I could fly under the radar in most countries, I was as recognisable here in Denmark as the Mortimers were around the globe.

  I’d fucked things up, not once, but twice with my righteous bullheadedness. I wanted, no, needed to get this right this time.

  But what if I didn’t even get the opportunity? What if she didn’t turn up?

  I’d replayed our conversation in her conference room countless times, each recount a little more eye-opening. Each one shaming me a little.

  Did you stop to think she may have been protecting you? That she didn’t want you to witness every single sorry detail of her trying to hold it together?

  A handful of words that had rocked me, more than she knew. She’d changed something fundamental inside me during those three days at the cabin, then completely shifted the axis of my world in her conference room.

  A saner man would flee from such a seismic shift. But what the hell kind of adventurer would I be if I didn’t explore to see where it led?

  A surge of travellers heading for their holidays ebbed and flowed out of the entrance, but there was no sign of Graciela. At this time of night only two flights were supposed to land. As the last of the passengers trickled out, my insides plummeted.

  She wouldn’t leave me hanging like this. Would she?

  My fingers gripped my thighs, then immediately unclenched to tap a wild beat, in direct contradiction to the dull thudding within my chest. I was so intent on debating whether to call her mobile or
not I didn’t see the figure walking up until a knuckle rapped sharply against the window.

  I jumped, then waved the driver away as he made to alight, yanking on the door handle and stepping out. She was dressed in the sort of classy chic I’d come to associate with her. Dark glasses despite the time of night, dark designer denims, black cashmere sweater and thick parka, and a stylish scarf with slashes of colour wrapped around her neck.

  Thigh-high boots that were totally impractical for winter in Denmark adorned her feet but, of course, she carried it off effortlessly, looked seriously sexy.

  ‘You’re here,’ I said uselessly.

  Her smile was wary, her eyes apprehensive. Unlike the confident Dominant I knew. ‘I hate mysteries. I had to come and see what that second line was all about.’

  I reached for her suitcase, a little disconcerted by how small it was.

  She either intended to stay for a short visit or she didn’t intend to wear many clothes while she was here. I fervently hoped it was the latter. I tossed the case into the boot and joined her in the back seat. She unwrapped the scarf from around her neck and ran her hands through her hair, and I searched her features as the car joined traffic. I was willing to admit my approach hadn’t been the most risk-free. I’d titivated and cajoled without knowing what the outcome would be.

  ‘So when do I get to see my surprise?’ she asked.

  ‘The day after tomorrow.’ I held my breath, waiting for her to tell me she only intended to stay one night.

  She didn’t, but a curious look crossed her face. ‘Tomorrow is Christmas Day.’

  ‘I know. The idea was for you to spend Christmas with me.’

  She shook her head. ‘We never agreed on where I spent Christmas. I’m supposed to be in the south of France.’

  Chains tightened around my chest. ‘The south of France?’

  She nodded, naked emotions shifting over her face before she expertly masked it. ‘Gideon and Bryce invited me to join them.’

  I wanted to be pleased for her. But I wanted her here with me more. ‘Are you going?’

  She shrugged. ‘I haven’t decided yet. The idea was for me to come here and for you to show me whatever it is you want to show me.’

  ‘I would’ve elaborated if you’d bothered to answer me directly. You spoke to me through your assistant.’

  ‘Is that an accusation?’

  I sighed. ‘Are you going to allow me to be a charming host or are you going to turn this adversarial?’

  Her eyes widened, surprised at my daring. ‘Your insinuation that I was a charity case was not appreciated,’ she snapped.

  I frowned. ‘I never said that.’

  A sad little smile curved her full lips. ‘That’s what you meant, though, wasn’t it?’

  ‘If I recall, my exact words were, I guarantee a misery-free and unforgettable adventure.’

  She waved her hand out of the window at the twinkling lights strung up in festive cheer. ‘So what is this? An experiment to see whether you can cheer up the poor little rich girl at Christmas time?’

  ‘If your brothers are reaching out, then things aren’t as hopeless as you think, surely? Self-pity is not a good look on you.’

  She gasped, hurt reflected in her eyes. After several tense seconds, she looked way. ‘I don’t think this is going to work.’

  ‘Giving up already?’ I pushed.

  ‘How dare you?’

  ‘No, how dare you, Graciela? How dare you waste your beautiful life?’

  ‘I’m not—’

  ‘You are and you know it or you wouldn’t be here. You’re curious. If you want a different experience, let me give that to you. You can start by letting me give you a proper welcome to Copenhagen.’

  She arched a brow. ‘What, with a visit to a sex club?’

  ‘A kiss. I was simply offering a hello kiss.’

  Nostrils flaring, her gaze dropped to my lips.

  Silently, I held out my hand. After a beat, she put hers in mine.

  I pulled off her gloves, warmed her chilled fingers between mine before brushing a kiss over her knuckles. Then, leaning close, I pressed my lips to hers.

  It was all I permitted myself. All I could control against the need clamouring to rip free. It was gratifying to see her disappointment when I pulled away.

  But then a determined little light glinted in her eyes as she glanced at the window. ‘Where exactly are we?’

  Despite the nerves eating me up again, I played the tour guide for her, answering questions until we drew up in front of my apartment building. I ushered her into the lift, my hand on her waist as we soared up to the penthouse suite I bought five years ago.

  I watched her look around my apartment. Watched her take in the countless pictures documenting every project I’d worked on. She ignored the million-dollar view, her interest sparking as she went from frame to frame. ‘These are amazing.’

  A layer of nerves settled inside me. This could work. Either way I was going to give it my best shot.

  ‘Thank you.’ I set her case down, and went towards her.

  Another wary little look crossed her face.

  ‘There’s no need to fear what’s coming, Graciela. I promise you it’s all good.’

  Defiance replaced wariness, her eyes snapping with irritation that did a shoddy job of covering the alarm beneath. ‘I’m not afraid. I just don’t like surprises.’ Her head tilted, fire sparking in her eyes. ‘Give me something at least, Jensen, or all we’ll be doing is making meaningless conversation while I wonder what you have in store for me.’

  I smiled. I couldn’t help it. She challenged and terrified me. Brought me alive in ways that I could never have imagined a short while ago. Ways I didn’t want to have to do without. ‘How about instead of telling you, I show you?’ I offered.

  Her gaze started past me, down the wide hallway that led to my bedroom. It was the only hallway in the apartment. So I’d correctly guessed her thoughts. I laughed.

  ‘Hopefully the sex will come later. I need your clothes on for this one. Or we’ll risk shocking a few people.’

  ‘People,’ she echoed, tensing.

  I reached for her hand. ‘I know we only just arrived but we need to leave again. We’re expected.’

  She opened her mouth, most likely to demand I tell her. But a different light shone in her eyes. One that thrilled me far too much. It was a light of trust. It said she was willing to take this small step.

  She nodded, and my hand tightened around hers. We took the lift to the underground garage. She looked around, curious as I led her to the late-model sports car. She remained silent for the twenty-minute journey to our destination, but every now and then she’d glance at me, bite her lip, the first sign of nerves I’d ever seen on Graciela. It was endearing. But also a little sad that she’d be so afraid of the unknown. Sad that she didn’t know her strength or underestimated her worth.

  I was equally nervous when I pulled up in front of the large, familiar suburban house. The past few days had been enlightening, and Graciela was about to find out how instrumental she’d been.

  I took her hand and kissed the back of it.

  ‘I’m beginning to associate you kissing my hand with something that’ll freak me out.’

  I smiled. ‘You liked something about my invitation or you wouldn’t be here.’

  She shrugged. ‘It beats spending the night listening to my cousin Jasper drone on about our family feud with the Binghams, that’s for sure.’

  ‘The fondness in your voice tells me he’s not all bad.’

  She shrugged. ‘I tolerate him, probably because I hardly see him.’

  It was more than that and we both knew it, but I let it slide. We stepped out and I walked her to the red-painted front door decorated with garlands and Christmas lights. As we approached, sounds of festive mu
sic filtered through the air.

  ‘You brought me to a party?’ There was no disappointment, but neither was there anticipation. She was guarding her feelings and I couldn’t blame her.

  The door opened before I could knock, a woman of slim, tall build throwing her arms wide.

  ‘Jensen! You made it.’ Her wide smile didn’t cover the wariness I glimpsed in her eyes but the tight band that usually gripped my chest when I was in my mother’s company had loosened. Enough that I could return her smile.

  Beside me, Graciela tensed. I tightened my fingers around hers, infusing reassurance. ‘Mor, meet Graciela Mortimer. Graciela, my mother, Agnetha.’

  Graciela held out her hand, but her face remained politely neutral as she greeted my mother. ‘It’s lovely to meet you.’

  My mother’s smile widened. ‘You too. I was thrilled when Jensen said he was coming home and bringing a guest with him. Usually I have to beg and plead.’ She threw the door wide open. ‘Come in, meet the rest of the family!’

  As we entered, I slanted a glance at Graciela, gauging her reaction.

  Her face gave nothing away, not even when the rest of my family descended en masse. Not when Dag, my gregarious stepfather, enfolded her in an embrace. She remained coolly polite, upper-class and boarding-school-honed manners fully in place.

  Dread slithered down my spine; the notion that my plan had backfired, that I’d probably killed any chance I had with her, became a reality when she cornered me in a quiet alcove while pre-dinner drinks were being served.

  ‘I was right, wasn’t I? I’m just some guinea-pig experiment to you!’ she hissed with quiet fury.

  Frustration boiled inside me. ‘Only you would see it like this.’

  Her face tightened. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘Look around you, Graciela. We’re not perfect. Hell, some of us have been through a lot of shit. But we don’t wallow in it.’

  I knew the words coming out of my mouth were wrong the moment I said them. ‘Dammit, I didn’t mean it like that.’

  Pain dulled the fire in her eyes. ‘No, I think you meant it exactly like that. You either meant to show me what a fuck-up I am or to rub my face in your idea of happy families,’ she said.

 

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