Page 148 of Wild Tangled Hearts

“Alex...” I start, but words fail. Stupid insecurities keep racing into my mind.

He takes a step closer, and I can feel the warmth of his body radiating toward me, drawing me in like a magnet. My heart pounds in my chest as he reaches out, his fingers gently tracing the line of my jaw, his touch sending shivers down my spine.

“I promise you can trust me, Bella,” he says. “We can talk about—”

I place a finger on his lips, silencing him, and then trace it down to his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my touch. "I don’t want to talk about anything right now. I just want to forget. Forget about Angie. Forget about everything. I need..."

I can't find the words to express what I need, but my body knows. I close the remaining distance between us, pressing my lips against his with a fierce urgency, pouring all my desire and longing into that kiss. His arms encircle me, pulling me closer. The kiss deepens, becoming a wildfire of passion and need. All the doubts and fears clouding my mind melt away, replaced by a burning hunger. I tug at his shirt, wanting to feel his bare skin against mine, to lose myself in the heat of the moment.

To lose myself inhim.

Desperation courses through my veins. He steals my restraint, leaving me powerless to resist the pull between us. Our relationship might be complicated, but at this moment, I embrace the chaos he brings.

More.

More.

More.

The mantra reverberates as our passion swells, a tidal wave of longing crashing over me.

My fingers curl tightly in his shirt, clinging to him as if he's my lifeline. "Stay the night," I whisper, the words tinged with vulnerability.

He pulls back slightly, his gaze locked onto mine, searching for any hint of doubt. His eyes, intense hazel pools, hold a promise and a question. "You're sure?" he asks, his voice a gentle reassurance.

I nod, my heart pounding in my chest. I'm certain. I don't want him to go, I want him here, to chase away the shadows that have haunted me all evening, and replace them with the warmth of his presence.

“I want...I need...” I chew on my bottom lip, then whisper, “Make love to me.”

He doesn't hesitate. His mouth immediately captures mine in a hungry, passionate kiss that leaves me breathless.

With a soft touch, he takes my hand and leads me toward the bedroom, our fingers intertwined.

In the soft glow of the moonlight, he moves close, his touch tender and loving as he helps me remove the lavender dress. His fingertips brush gently against my neck, arms, and back, sending shivers of excitement through me. It's a slow, deliberate dance, of tenderness and passion.

Clothes discarded, he presses his lips to my forehead, then my cheeks, and finally finds my mouth. His hands explore my bare skin, caressing every inch with a reverence that leaves me trembling with need.

I trace the contours of his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my fingertips.

Every touch, every kiss, is achingly slow.

He consumes me, his mouth everywhere, exploring every contour of my body with a hunger that matches mine.

His lips trace the curve of my neck, the swell of my breast, the dip of my waist, igniting a trail of fire in their wake. His hands, strong and possessive, roam across my body, sculpting sensations that send shivers through me.

I arch into his touch, gasping for air, needing more. He lifts me effortlessly, and I wrap my legs around his waist, straddling him. His hard cock presses against my belly. My fingers entwine in his hair as our mouths find each other, and the kiss is no longer slow and sweet, but feral and untamed. It's a wild, passionate exchange of desire, a primal need that consumes us both. Our lips crash together with an intensity that leaves us breathless, tongues dueling in a heated dance.

With a gentleness that contrasts the intensity of our desire, he carries me to the bed and places me down, our eyes locked in a fiery gaze that speaks volumes. The room is filled with the soft glow of moonlight, casting shadows that dance across our entangled bodies.

As he hovers over me, the engorged head of his cock pressing against my wetness, he says, “I love you,” as he slides inside of me. And I take in each delectable inch, moaning at the fullness.

I lose myself in the intoxicating sensation of him, the taste of his kisses, the feeling of his muscles bulging and contracting under my fingers.

His thrusts increase, his moans growing ragged. And I whimper and beg until we’re a tangle of limbs and pleasure-filled noises. And when my orgasm rips through me, my body shudders with the force of my pleasure, a powerful release that leaves me gasping for breath.

I feel his orgasm pulse against the back of my womb, so intense that he lets out a guttural cry that fills the room. He falls back onto the mattress, his body quivering with the aftershocks of our shared climax. The room is hushed, save for our labored breaths, and we lay there, tangled in the sheets, our chests heaving.

He reaches out to brush a strand of hair from my face, his touch tender. “You make me want things I never knew I wanted.”

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