Page 14 of The Celebrity Bidder

His eyes lock with mine as he starts to push in. He meets resistance, and I tense—but Wylie stills, kissing my jaw, my cheek, my temple.

“Just breathe,” he murmurs, brushing hair from my face. “I’ve got you.”

He waits, letting me adjust, and the tenderness in his eyes is almost more overwhelming than the stretch of him filling me.He could take me hard and fast—his body’s practically vibrating with restraint—but he doesn’t. He’s giving me control.

He’s giving meeverything.

He starts to move, slow and steady, and when he bottoms out, I can feel his entire body shaking with the effort of holding back.

“Fuck me,” I pant. “Hard.”

He pulls back, searching my eyes. “You sure?”

“Yes. God, yes. Wylie, please.”

The leash snaps. He slams into me with a growl, and I cry out—half shock, half sheer, desperate pleasure. He pounds into me with wild abandon, the rhythm sharp and perfect, each thrust coaxing a louder moan from my lips. My body arches to meet his, and his mouth finds mine, claiming and consuming, tongue sliding against mine in time with his hips.

Every stroke, every breath, every sound is a symphony of need. Of connection.

And I realize this isn’t just sex.

It’s a reckoning.

I’ve never felt this seen before. Never felt this known.

I’m unraveling beneath him, and when my orgasm hits, it’s like an earthquake—shattering, explosive, and terrifyingly good. I cling to him as the pleasure rushes through me, and a moment later, I feel him tense, feel him groan into my neck as he spills into me, his release as raw as mine.

For a while, neither of us speaks. The room is filled with the sound of our panting breaths, the creak of the mattress, the crackle of the fire in the next room.

Wylie shifts, careful not to crush me, and lies beside me, pulling me against him. His hand traces lazy circles along my spine, and my heart aches in the best possible way.

I rest my cheek on his chest and close my eyes.

And there it is—the thought I can’t ignore anymore.

I’m head over heels in love with Wylie Cole.

Chapter 10

Wylie

Themorningairissharp, mountain-crisp, as the helicopter glides over the trees. Bella sits beside me, her hair pulled back, wrapped in one of my jackets. She’s staring out the window, but every few seconds, I catch her glancing over at me with that soft little smile that does dangerous things to my heart.

I can still feel her in my arms from last night. Her breath on my neck. The way she looked at me after.

Like I wasn’t just Wylie Cole, the actor. Like I was just a man—herman.

And maybe it’s insane—we’ve barely gotten to know each other—but something in me has already made up its mind.

I want her.

Not just for a night.

I want her walking beside me in this strange, beautiful life I’ve built. I want Scout curled at her feet while we drink coffee in the morning. I want her laughter in my house. Her body in my bed. Her heart in my hands.

I want forever.

When we reach my home, I land the helicopter smoothly. I kill the engine, and for a second, I sit there, hands still on the controls, breath held as I try to gather every shred of courage I have.

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