Driving Him Wild

by Zara Cox

  He held back the flap of the tent, and I went inside.

  The large sleeping bag stretched out over a waterproof mattress was more than adequate for one person. Not two. I turned to comment on the feasibility of our situation.

  The raw, ravenous look in his eyes stopped me.

  That look became the deciding factor.

  He was an adventurer. Used to taking risks and reaping stunning rewards.

  Wouldn’t it be a kick to take a leaf out of his book?

  I reached for the zip fastening my suit. His gaze dropped to trail the movement, his harsh breathing so insanely sexy, my nipples beaded harder. Within the atmosphere of the closed tent, with double space heaters warming up the space, arousal bit harder.

  ‘You want to help me with this?’ I asked, my voice sultry with excitement.

  With a firm nod, he stepped forward, taking over my unzipping. ‘It’ll be my pleasure.’

  He was way taller than the tent and had bent his head when he stepped inside. Still, my heart lurched when he dropped to his knees. But his position in no way diminished him. Jensen was overwhelmingly large, his sheer size making my mouth water as I stared down at him. I dug my arms out of my outer suit, then held onto his shoulder as he manoeuvred the material down my legs.

  I’d just stepped out of them, leaving my thermal all-in-one underneath, when he inhaled sharply. ‘Shit. The aurora.’

  I wanted to laugh, weirdly amused by the notion that the phenomenon was enough to distract him from what we were doing. ‘Is it happening now?’ We’d been in the tent only a handful of minutes.

  He shook his head. ‘No, but I don’t want to miss it if it does.’

  Even as he sprang into action, his gaze locked on my body, eyes heating up as it lingered on the twin diamond-hard points of my nipples, brazenly outlined in the thermal suit. After a thick swallow, he veered away, his movements graceful yet efficient as he dug through his equipment, took out three powerful-looking cameras and tripods and then swiftly exited the tent.

  Minutes passed as he set up the cameras outside the tent. Then he was back, sealing the flap closed behind him. Need clamoured through me. Impatient to be naked, to feel his hard body and hands upon mine, I swivelled away from him, exposed my nape where the zip of my thermal suit rested.

  Eagerly, he went back to work, his expert fingers lowering another zip, this one exposing my naked back to him. His sharp intake of breath made me smile, eroding a few more layers of doubt.

  Jensen’s reaction gratified, salved a wound I didn’t want to admit needed soothing and I revelled in the warm hands that undressed me, pleasure gliding through me as I looked at him over my shoulder, watched his eyes linger on my behind, where my thong dissected the globes of my ass.

  ‘You’re beautiful,’ he breathed, his hands shaking as they trailed up my legs, pressing into my calves on the way to wrapping around my hips. He leaned forward, pressed his face into the gap between my legs, shamelessly breathing me in before letting out a thick groan. ‘And you smell amazing, min elskerinde.’

  The foreign words were almost whispered against my skin, under his breath. I wanted to ask what they meant, but he was nipping at my flesh, using his teeth to wreak havoc.

  Doing things I hadn’t quite given him permission for.

  I twisted in his hold, braced my hands on his shoulders. ‘You’ve seen me. Now I get to see you. Undress.’

  His hands reluctantly left my body, pulled at the fasteners securing the neck of his snow suit, but his movements were slow. Perhaps because his lust-dark eyes were fixed on my breasts, still encased in the burgundy bra that matched my panties. Lingerie was an expensive weakness of mine.

  It was partly why I’d kept in touch with Bryce’s childhood friend and now girlfriend Savannah Knight, and ordered a new selection from each of her Voluptuoso lingerie collections the moment it hit the stores.

  Perhaps lace and silk that barely covered my intimate parts were impractical for sub-zero weather temperatures, but it was a decadence I didn’t feel bad about indulging.

  Judging from Jensen’s reaction, it was well worth it.

  ‘Hurry up, or I might change my mind about all of this.’

  He attacked his zip without taking his eyes off me, hissing when it went over his engorged cock. He wore the same thermal under gear as I did, but in a blinding white two-piece trousers and long-sleeved T-shirt combo to my black one-piece. I was sure there were some Freudian connotations in our colour preferences but all I could absorb in that moment was the way the material moulded his sculpted shoulders and chest, the way it outlined his mouth-watering abs. With each movement as he shrugged out of the garment, I was exposed to even more of Jensen Scott’s perfection.

  I wanted to lick him all over. Then devour him in large, choking chunks.

  The strength of that need alarmed me. But the sight of him on his knees, ready to surrender to me, overpowered the apprehension.

  I was a grown woman, perfectly ripe for my first one-night stand in a tent somewhere in the Arctic Circle if I wished it. Empowered by the thought, I cupped his strong jaw, leaned down and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to his lips. Before the flames could leap out of control, I eased away, walked past him to where the sleeping bag was laid out.

  Like everything else around here, it held a chill as I lay back on it, but it warmed quickly. I let out a pleased sigh, watched as he swivelled to follow my movement, kicking away his suit as he did.

  I beckoned him with a finger, and he rose.

  He was gorgeous. Built like a true Viking with thick thighs, chiselled calves and lean hips, he was fantasy made flesh.

  A fantasy I intended to make reality before the night was over.

  ‘Come and show me what else those talented hands are capable of,’ I invited sultrily, moving my arms to rest them above my head.

  ‘Just my hands?’ he asked, his voice a thick rasp.

  ‘No, Mr Scott. Not just your hands. Every inch of that delicious body is definitely on my to-do list.’

  My fingers brushed the side of the tent, and the brief contact with the cold sent a delicious shiver through me, making my nipples harder.

  He groaned, then, erupting into movement, he dropped onto the sleeping bag, dark blue eyes devouring me as he started to reach for me.

  ‘Wait.’

  He stilled, his nose flaring in the silence I let drag out for several seconds.

  ‘The beanie. Take it off. I want to see your hair.’

  The white cap—he really had a thing for white, didn’t he?—slid off easily, and I suppressed a groan. Hell, even his hair was magnificent. Burnt gold, threaded with hints of dark honey, it was enough to make a woman weep with envy. And a shampoo manufacturer scream with joy. But it was still tied at the back of his neck.

  ‘All of it, Jensen.’

  With an impatient tug, he freed the length from the simple elastic band. My breath caught as the heavy mass fell over one shoulder. With movements that were perfunctory rather than exhibitionist, he dragged his fingers through the thick strands, tossing them off his neck. They fell well below his shoulders. And while I wasn’t into the whole man-bun craze, I couldn’t deny there was something wildly sexy about a guy with the confidence to wear his hair this long.

  Eyes darkened with arousal raked over my body again, unfettered lust parting his lips. ‘What do you want, min elskerinde?’

  ‘For you to finish undressing me,’ I instructed.

  He fell on me, callused fingers grazing my skin as he reached behind me to unclasp my bra. At the first sight of my breasts, he groaned. ‘God, you’re so fucking sexy.’

  I arched my back, silently inviting him to touch.

  He touched. Squeezed and caressed me until he dragged a moan from my throat. The thought of the frozen tundra right outside the tent and the sizzling effect of his hands on me wa
s one of the headiest encounters I’d experienced.

  I wanted more of it.

  As if he’d read my mind, his hands tiptoed down my ribs, leaving a trail goosebumps, to catch and drag my panties down my legs.

  In the dim light, I saw a flush stain his chiselled cheekbones. It was a unique enough reaction to elevate me from mere lust to...something else. Something that was exclusively mine.

  Something that didn’t remind me of my uncanny resemblance to my mother, a fact many chose to comment on, either with reverence or with cruelty. While these days I’d stopped reading the tabloids, I’d once spent a useless, soul-shrivelling month scouring newspapers and magazines for mentions of my name that didn’t involve my mother. Not a single one had been entirely about me. Because of course I wasn’t my own person. I was a churned-out product, a means to an end dictated by a few lines scrawled in a centuries-old trust, discarded at the very first opportunity.

  If only I could look into the mirror and not see the exact replica of just who had done the discarding—

  Callused hands tightened on my inner thighs, dragging me back to the present. To the man who crouched before me, his eyes fixed on me with complete, unwavering focus. ‘I feel as if I’m losing you,’ Jensen said, a displeased little light in his eyes that absurdly thrilled me. The idea that a man who barely knew me would fight for my attention, when my own mother had—

  Dear God, enough already!

  ‘Well, you’ve got my clothes off. Now what do you want to do?’ I asked, momentarily content to let him make the decision. I was merely loosening the reins, not handing them over.

  He swallowed, his gaze darting from my breasts to my pelvis, hunger etched deeper on his face. His grip grew even firmer, subtly nudging my thighs apart. I was shamelessly wet, could feel the hot dampness in the cool air.

  ‘I want to taste you. Devour you. Make you come,’ he said.

  Breath hitching, I spread my thighs wider. ‘Then we’re in accord, Jensen, because I want the same thing.’

  With a rough grunt, he lurched forward, wrapped both hands around my breasts and sucked a nipple between his lips. Expertly, he rolled the hard nub between his teeth, nipping and sucking until my back arched clear off the sleeping bag. He showered attention on the twin peak, then utilised his hot and skilful mouth on a trail south.

  Jensen didn’t tease and titillate his way into a slow build-up. He wanted to devour me, and that was exactly what he did.

  With a full-on, dirty French kiss, he launched a spine-melting assault on my sex, tasting and licking with unashamed pleasure that made me gasp in shock.

  ‘You taste so good,’ he growled, his gaze rising to clash with mine for a second before it dropped to my sex. Minutes ticked by, the only sound in the tent the decadent acoustics of wet, aroused flesh and pleasured moans.

  Then his fingers parted me wider, exposing my engorged clit to the wicked assault of his tongue. Pleasure piled high, drawing wild tremors through me. Like a freight train, my climax bore down on me. Relishing the added friction of his stubble against my thighs, I gathered the long strands of his hair in one hand, the other cupping my breast to squeeze a nipple as I prepared to surrender to rabid lust.

  It arrived in flashes of wild lightning, jerking my hips in hard spasms. Jensen’s hand slipped beneath me, effortlessly holding me up as he continued to taste my climax. When it all grew too much, I tightened my grip in his hair.

  With endearing reluctance, he diverted his attention from between my legs, dropped kisses down the length of my inner thighs before prowling his way up my body.

  The decadent kiss tasted of my musky satisfaction. Eventually, he drew away, and I saw the building tension on his face.

  I forced myself not to tense in response, despite the less than euphoric sensation moving through my stomach at the thought that he already regretted what had happened. ‘If you’re annoyed by the lack of accolades, I’d say give me a chance to catch my breath, then I’ll—’

  A sharp shake of his head halted my words. ‘It’s nothing like that.’

  ‘Okay.’ I waited.

  His gaze rushed over me, as if he couldn’t help himself. And call me vain, but it eased my tension a little.

  ‘I’m not sure how far you want this to go...’ he paused, jaw gritted, as if he didn’t want to say the words ‘...but I don’t have a condom.’

  I froze, mildly stunned that the need for protection hadn’t occurred to me. While I was on the Pill, and fairly certain pregnancy wouldn’t be an issue, I’d never not used the extra layer of protection. The last thing I needed with my various issues was to add a baby to the mix. Or a different type of health issue.

  In a way, this was the perfect get-out clause. A moment of reprieve to rethink this insanity before it got out of hand.

  So why was I reaching for him, bunching my fist into the front of his thermal T-shirt to pull him closer? ‘I’m sure we can find middle ground that works for both of us. Take this off, please. And kiss me again,’ I said, reclaiming my true nature now the first hazy orgasm was out of the way.

  He pulled the T-shirt over his head, and I barely managed to stop from gaping. He was glorious, a perfect synergy of sleek musculature and light golden skin.

  I wanted to touch him, but he had other ideas. As per my instruction, the moment he tossed the clothing away, he fused his lips to mine. My hands went to his hair, gathered it in one hand. He gave a rough groan.

  I used the pressure to draw him back, revelled in his wild shudder. ‘You like your hair pulled?’

  His rabid gaze remained on my mouth. ‘Yes.’

  I tightened my fist, applied pressure until his head bowed back, exposing his delicious throat to me. Unable to resist, I trailed a kiss down one side of his Adam’s apple. ‘What else do you like?’

  ‘Everything.’

  I laughed. ‘That’s too broad a spectrum. I deal in specifics. I’m a woman in a position of power and responsibility. I have a burden of literal billions in donations on my shoulders. I can’t afford to waver or prevaricate over my decisions.’

  His eyelids flickered, but he didn’t lift his gaze. His submissiveness was so ingrained it was breathtaking. ‘It’s more than that, min elskerinde, and we both know it.’

  My heart banged against my ribs. ‘I should punish you for arguing with me.’

  ‘But you won’t because it’s the truth. Being in control is who you are.’

  It was my turn to shudder. But not with arousal. It was his recognition of my true self that threatened to move me. ‘I’m still waiting, Jensen.’

  ‘I’d very much like to fuck you. But since that’s not on the table, I’d love to make you come again.’

  As generous as the offer was, it reeked a little too much of pandering to the desires of the spoilt little rich girl, in the hope of banking brownie points. ‘Why that, Jensen? Why not ask for a blow job?’ My gaze dropped to the thick outline of his cock, straining about his thermals. ‘I’m sure you could use a little relief?’

  He shuddered against my lips, but still he shook his head. ‘The taste of you is...intoxicating. I want more,’ he confessed thickly.

  And what the hell...who was I to refuse such a request?

  * * *

  ‘Wake up, elskerinde.’

  I snuggled deeper into the warm sleeping bag. ‘What...why? Is it morning already?’ It felt as if I’d fallen asleep minutes ago into what had surprisingly been restful sleep.

  ‘No, it’s not. But the borealis is happening. I don’t think you want to miss it.’

  My eyes popped open. ‘Seriously?’

  Jensen’s eyes were amused as he nodded. ‘Seriously.’

  About to launch myself out of the bag, I remembered I didn’t have a stitch on. The thought of piling on layers of clothes, while necessary, made me grimace.

  Silently, he held out my
thermal under suit, the jacket he’d given me on the last leg of the sled ride, and a blanket. ‘This should be enough to keep you warm for a short time.’

  I reached for the clothes with a grateful smile, something sharp and profound lurching in my chest. I was just his client. A client he didn’t want to freeze to death on his watch. No big deal. Certainly no reason to read any more into this than a mere kindness.

  I accepted the items, tugging the leggings of the all-in-one on without bothering with my panties or bra. As I punched my way into the jacket, I noticed that he was already dressed.

  ‘How long have you been up?’

  ‘About five minutes. I stepped out to check on the cameras and saw the lights.’

  I hurriedly zipped up the jacket and searched for my shoes. Again, he produced them, the laces in my boots eased apart and ready to be tugged on. ‘Am I going to miss it? How long does it usually last?’

  The moment I stood he eased the blanket over my shoulders. ‘Each one is different. If we’re lucky, it’ll last for a good while.’

  He held open the tent flap for me. And I stepped out into the most spectacular sight.

  Against a black velvet sky pierced with brilliant stars, breathtaking swathes of coloured light swirled and danced. Greens, blues, purples and yellows, they looked close enough to touch.

  ‘Oh, my sweet Lord.’ The cold Arctic slap of wind forgotten, I stared, my breath held at the wondrous sight. ‘It’s...indescribable.’

  ‘Ja,’ he concurred, his tone a little gruff. ‘No matter how many times I see one, it still takes my breath away. Each one is unique enough to make me feel like I’m seeing it for the first time.’

  I could believe that. ‘How many times have you experienced this?’

  I sensed more than saw his shrug. ‘Not as often as I’d like.’ There was a wistfulness to his tone that almost distracted me from the sight.

  Almost.

  The beauty displayed above me was too powerful, too sacred to take my eyes off it.

  So I watched, even as I sensed Jensen’s subtle movements around me. Even as I heard the soft, shuttered clicks of his camera, circling. Stopping. Circling some more.