Wilder (The Wild Ones 3)

His hips move faster, driving in and out of me as a few sexy grunts escape his restraint.

My hand slaps the counter, trying to help with some of my weight, but it’s no use. He’s only dragging out all those sensations, leaving the ebbing tides cresting for longer and longer and—

He stills inside me, staggering into me at the same time, as his own knees seem to give out. His hands drop to the counter, as his entire body shudders, and he seems to struggle to stay on his feet as he breathes into my neck in heavy pants.

I grin to myself, my cheek pressed to the counter by this point, as I do all I can to regain my composure, to no avail.

“Fuck,” he groans against my neck, only causing me to smile wider. “That’s what happens when you go and disappear for a month and then show up without warning,” he says like he’s griping. “I couldn’t hold it back for any longer.”

“Do you hear me complaining?” I ask, my voice breathy and a little quiet, as I struggle to make my limp limbs reach their full potential.

“I just need some recovery time, and we’re going to do that again. And again. And again,” he tells me, running his lips over my shoulder as he wraps his arms around my waist and hugs me to him.

“I remember you saying something similar one time. You left me hanging and didn’t keep your word, if I recall correctly,” I remind him, still stupid-grinning like I can’t help myself.

“That was when I was holding back. I’m not holding back anymore,” he assures me, pulling out of me abruptly.

He turns me, and I stumble against him, still weak-kneed and starry-eyed.

I never even knew he removed his shirt, but my hands run up his chest as I kiss his firm pec.

He lifts me again, and I’m happy to wrap my legs around him, since I’m not convinced I can walk and stuff.

He kisses me, discarding the condom as we go, and I shake my head at the die-hard bachelor who doesn’t have an ounce of shame. I’m so in love that it’s terrifying.

I’m enamored with everything he does. At this point, I’m pretty sure I’d even find it charming if he pulled a Dutch-Oven on me.

I continue to kiss his smiling mouth, feeling lighter as he carries me toward the bedroom. His forearms shelve my ass, my fingers tangle in his hair, and I crack one eye open to track our progress as we—

A scream tears out of my throat as I break the kiss, eyes widening in horror.

“What?” he asks, jerking like I’ve startled the shit out of him.

“Wh-what happened in here?” I ask in shock, staring at the wall full of axes wedged in it.

He follows my line of vision, not reacting even a little bit.

“Oh that. Long story short, I had a tantrum,” he says as though it’s no big deal, as he lowers me to the bed.

I can’t take my eyes off the butchered wall with chunks of wood lying haphazardly on the floor. You can see bits and pieces of the bathroom next door, and some axes are collapsed on the ground like they’ve fallen from the wall’s stab wounds.

“How do you have so many axes?” I ask as he kisses his way down my neck.

He sighs and lifts his head, but I’m still staring at the really confusing wall of axes. A tantrum?

His hand comes up, cupping my chin, and he forces my head away until our gazes lock.

“You’re wearing my flag to seduce me, and I’m all over you trying to seduce you right back,” he tells me flatly, arching an eyebrow as though I’m being chastised.

“We just had sex. Why did you throw a bunch of axes into your wall during a tantrum?” I ask him very seriously.

That’s hardcore—

“Because,” he starts, releasing a heavy breath as his body presses mine farther into the mattress, his weight settling onto me like he’s boxing me in to keep me from escaping, “you were already gone before I realized I was in love with you. By then, it was too late to do anything about it.”

I think every single organ in my body turns to mush, aside from my heart that leaps into my throat and pounds like it wants out so it can have a front-row seat to this show.

“I don’t like feeling helpless,” he adds, his voice softer, eyes holding mine as I melt a little more into the bed, my heart hurting now. “I hate missing people. I don’t get attached easily at all. I don’t even really like people all that much, if I’m honest. It wasn’t supposed to be that fucking easy to fall for a girl I knew wasn’t sticking around.”

His lips are on mine before I can respond to that, as though he’s kissing me to shut me up on purpose, and he tugs down the top half of the flag, freeing my breasts.