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I attempt to slam the door behind me, but Wilder stops it and steps inside, slamming—and locking—the door behind him. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you back there. I apologize.”
One hand clutches my shoulder, and he spins me around until we’re face to face. “You didn’t embarrass me.”
“Fine. I’m sorry if my concern pissed you off,” I spit at him, my voice full of sarcasm.
His full lips spread into a knowing, almost teasing smile as he removes his blood-soaked t-shirt and steps out of his blood-spattered jeans and boots. Wilder spreads his arms wide and motions with his hands for me to look at his bloody muscles.
He’s beautiful, and though my heart is still pounding with worry and fear, arousal is taking over with every passing second. It’s insane to feel this way, this rollercoaster of emotions for a person I barely know. I look away.
“Have it your way,” he growls and storms into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.
My shoulders fall the moment the shower spray starts, and I collapse onto the bed as relief swamps my body and loosens my muscles. Wilder is okay. At least, I think he is. It was someone else’s blood, and that person is definitely not okay. But Wilder is my priority. Right now, he’s angry, but he’s all right.
Thank God.
Minutes later, the shower stops, and a minute after that, I can hear the door open. “Maven.”
“What?” My eyes slam shut, and my heart hammers against my chest as I listen to the sound of his bare feet smack against the floor, step by step, until the weight of his stare forces my eyes open.
Wilder is in front of me wearing nothing but a smile as one knee and then the other presses against the bed, dipping beneath his weight.
“Look at me.”
“I see you.” Every inch of him is fucking spectacular. In another life, he could have been a fitness model or maybe a swimsuit model. He’s so sculpted with dark brown nipples and rippling abs that make my mouth water.
“You were worried about me.” He’s smiling, and the sight of that big grin makes my heart pump faster.
“Of course I was.”
His smile widens, and slowly he covers me with his hard, slightly damp body. “I liked it.” His lips brush against one corner of my mouth as he reaches a hand back to unhook my bra. “A lot.” One kiss to the other side.
“You’re not upset?”
“That a beautiful woman I can’t get enough of is so worried about me she’s examining me in front of my brothers? Fuck, no. I just wanted to stop your worrying.”
My heart squeezes at his words, so sweet and so fucking heartfelt that I feel my heart calling out to him. “Oh,” I say, sliding out of my bra and helping him slip my shirt over my shoulders.
“Yeah. Oh.” Wilder stares at me like I matter to him, and my heart gallops inside my chest as he brushes away a few wisps of hair from my face. “It was sweet, but you know what else? It was so fucking hot.”
Before I can roll my eyes or question his eyesight, Wilder’s mouth is on mine, devouring me.
I’m instantly breathless, completely and totally consumed by this man, his delicious weight making my nipples strain against his slick skin, still damp from the shower. His hard body presses against me while his tongue licks into my mouth, white-hot flames shooting up my body.
Together, we help me squirm out of my clothes, and at last, I can feel of him against me.
None of our previous kisses, not even the first, has felt like this, so explosive yet gentle. A single tear falls from the corner of my eye at his focus, his intensity. I wrap my legs around him, and I can’t hold my emotions back as his cock surges into me, thick and pulsing. A loud moan escapes and Wilder stills, giving me time to get used to the way he fills me up.
“I’m good,” I breathe out with a shaky smile.
“You feel so fucking good,” he growls and pulls nearly all the way out before pumping deeper, deeper than any man ever has. He’s beautiful with his jaw clenched tight, baring his teeth like a wild animal as his cock pumps in and out, slow and deep.
“Wilder,” I moan and arch up into him, silently begging for more. “Yes!”
“Fuck,” he grunts and grabs my legs, one at a time, and places them on his shoulders. “Your pussy is so tight. So wet. I can’t get enough of you, babe.”
His big hands palm my tits, squeezing and kneading while he fucks me in slow, sensual strokes that strip away all my good sense, strip bare all the bullshit until one thing is clear.
I’m in love with this—much younger—man. “Wilder. More. Please.”
