Page 21 of Wild Tangled Hearts

His lips are soft and warm, moving against mine with an intensity that sends shivers down my spine. My fingers tangle in his hair. I can’t get enough. I want more. The soft, urgent press of his mouth against mine, the way his hands roam down my back, pulling me closer, tells me he wants more, too.

Breaking away from the kiss, I look into his eyes, my voice soft and husky, “Today has been amazing.” I pause, the weight of the question in the air. “I don’t want it to end.”

“Bella,” my name escapes his lips in a throaty whisper, a gentle caress to my senses. But I detect a hint of inner conflict in those hazel eyes. While desire burns with the same intensity, there’s a subtle undercurrent of vulnerability, as if he’s torn between surrendering to the moment and guarding his heart.

A wave of uncertainty washes over me as I search his eyes. “It’s okay. I’m pretty tired.”

Alex grabs my hand when I move to leave, standing with me. “Bella, wait.”

My heart skips a beat, and I turn to face him, his fingers still intertwined with mine. His eyes hold a mixture of longing and something more profound, something he’s grappling with. He glances away, then gives a slight shake of his head, and when his gaze falls back on mine, all trepidation is gone. All that remains is a burning hunger.

“Do you want to stay with me tonight?”

A lump forms in my throat, and I manage a nod.

His lips curl into a smile, and he guides me towards his tent.

Inside, we’re enveloped in darkness, shrouding us in shadows. Yet, it sharpens my other senses — the lingering taste of his kiss, the intoxicating scent of his rugged masculinity. My fingertips vibrate with electricity as I touch his face, running them over the stubble of his jaw and soft lips and the warmth of his breath playing across them.

He kisses me, hands holding the back of my head, matching my need for something more.

As our bodies press closer together, I can feel his heart beating in tandem with mine, the rhythm of our desire echoing in the intimate darkness of the tent.

His hands are on me, fingers caressing my skin as the inch under the fabric of my shirt. His gentle touch sends waves of pleasure down my spine, and I surrender to his embrace. As his lips leave mine for just a moment, he traces a path of gentle kisses along my jawline, to my neck. Each touch sends a delightful shiver through my body, and I arch my neck, inviting more of his affection.

Our clothes become an obstacle, and with a shared sense of eagerness, we help each other shed them. His fingers explore my curves, igniting sparks of pleasure with every caress. There’s an urgency in his touch, a longing that matches mine.

I gasp when his warm mouth covers one nipple. His tongue swirls and flicks the bud as his hands spread my thighs, and his fingers slip between my panties, stroking my clit.

“Alex,” I moan. He silences me with another searing kiss, his voice husky and filled with longing as he murmurs, “We have to be quiet.”

“I’m trying, but you’re not making it easy.”

He chuckles against my mouth. One finger nudges at my entrance, then pushes inside, and I arch against his palm. “Damn, Bella, you’re so wet.”

“I want you,” I groan, running my fingers under his boxers’ elastic and sliding them down. The hard length of his cock nudges against my thigh, and a deep growl rumbles in his chest as I wrap my fingers around the silky flesh. He’s huge and thick, and I want him inside of me.

In the dark, he fumbles in his bag, and I hear the rustle of plastic, the tear of it, before he slides the condom over his engorged head. Then his mouth is back on mine, and our breaths quicken.

“You sure you want this?” He asks, fingers teasing my clit.

“Yes,” I whimper.

He slides my panties down my thighs, his lips trailing kisses along the inside, then rolling his tongue across my pussy, licking and sucking at my clit, until I have to cover my mouth so I don’t cry out in pleasure.

“Alex,” I whisper, gripping his shoulders and leading him up so that he hovers above me, his cock sheathed and ready to be inside me.

I take his long length and guide it towards my entrance, and he slowly lowers himself until I take every delectable inch of him.

It takes me a moment to adjust to his size, and he holds still above me, his mouth on mine, kissing me softly.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Better than okay,” I whimper. “You feel incredible.”

I sense his smile against my mouth, and he begins to move. I grip his arms, every knot and muscle bulging beneath my palms as he uses his strength to hold himself above me. He slides out of me and thrusts back inside, and I gasp. His pace is slow and steady, and I explore his body with my fingers.

Tracing a path over his chest, the hardness of his pectoral muscles beneath his skin, ripple and flex with every movement, beckoning my touch. The man is enormous in every way.

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