Tangled In His Sheets Novels & Stories

He handed me a bag of frozen peas, and pressed it carefully against the top of my nose. “God, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he kept muttering, watching my face for any signs of slipping away again. I couldn’t keep my eyes open. My eyelids drooped. No good. He reached out and lightly tapped my cheek. “Hey. Hey. No sleeping yet, alright? You gotta stay awake for me. C’mon.” I opened my eyes a crack and gave a tiny groan of protest. “You’re not dying,” he said, more to reassure himself than her. “You’re just... dramatic.”

"I was asleep. I didn't know what I was doing." "You were cuddling me, little Raven." "I was cold," I hissed, finally sitting up and yanking the silk sheet to my chest. The red lace was still on. Somehow. I yanked the sheet up anyway and turned to glare at him with all the venom I could muster. He was lying on his back, hands tucked behind his head, watching me with a look that made my blood simmer. His hair was disheveled, his jaw dark with a night's worth of stubble, and his gray eyes were… soft.

I was completely naked in bed, covered only by the sheets. My clothes were strewn about and torn apart. Even the newly purchased heels broke. The room was a shambles from the previous night. Now that I look at him closely, I notice he has a small tattoo of an infinity symbol on his hand. "I don't have any clothes to wear," I admitted flatly. He laughed and moved in closer. He suddenly took me in his arms, despite the fact that I was still wrapped in sheets.

Robin might have helped him. Entering the room, she swiftly locked the door, stealing another glance at him. He donned a black shirt with two undone buttons, revealing his chiseled jawline. The veins became visible as he vigorously rubbed the towel against his hands. He was not just an Alpha but a Greek God! His legs were concealed beneath the black quilt, and she observed that the bed cover was not the same as last night. ‘Did he let Robin change the bedsheet?? Didn’t we...’ Her cheeks turned red when she thought that. However, nothing came to her mind except his deep, thrilling voice.

Ronan tossed in the massive bed, sheets tangled around his hips like chains. Sleep had finally dragged him under after hours of pacing and snarling at shadows, but it brought no peace. In the dream he was back in the mud of the battlefield, only this time there was no war around them. Just the two of them.

The first light of morning spilled into the bedroom like a whisper, casting amber streaks across tangled sheets and bruised skin. Talana lay with her head on Massimo’s chest, her hand resting lightly on the jagged scar over his ribs, just above the bullet wound that almost took him from her. He hadn’t moved in minutes, his arm draped protectively around her waist, but she could tell he wasn’t asleep. The way his fingers twitched every so often, how his chest rose a little too deep, it gave him away.

He chuckled, seeing the state I was in. Looking at my reflection, I almost laughed out loud. To say I was a wreck was a serious understatement. My hair was a tangled mess, both tits were hanging out of my top, I had red marks on my neck, and my legs and pussy were sticky with our combined juices. As gently as he could, he untangled himself from me, picking me up off the floor. He carried me to the bed and laid me down gently so I could sleep comfortably. My eyes closed, slowly succumbing to my body’s tiredness. I woke up moments later to see him dressing up for work. Work? A frown greased my forehead.

He watched, his lips licking in a pervert's way, then took it away from me and drank the rest, tossing the empty carton. "Dirty little slut," he sneered, climbing back onto the bed. He tugged out the knotted bedsheet from under us—a thin, coarse sheet spotted with our semen—and draped over our nudity, the fabric cold against my burning skin. I wrapped myself around him, my sticky thighs stuck to his, the sheet loosely draped over our filth but only barely enough to envelop the heat between us.

He is late today. "I am tired," he sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed. My eyebrows drew together as confusion danced in my eyes. It is the first time that he has said these words and I am sure there is something hidden in them. A few buttons of his white shirt were casually undone, revealing a glimpse of his toned chest beneath. His tie hung loosely around his neck, and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows, showcasing his strong, veiny arms. In the dimly lit room, the combination of shadows and highlights accentuated his rugged features, making him look irresistibly attractive. I couldn't help but steal glances at him, admiring his effortless charm.

She collapsed onto her side, facing him, her back to her husband, knees drawing up slightly as the evidence of their fucking became a cold, sticky patch on the sheets between them. He looked at her, the tear-streaked face, the bruised mouth, the bare, milk-damp breast, then reached out and pulled the rumpled duvet up over her shoulders, tucking it around her like a child. The gesture was so at odds with everything that it made her breath catch in a new kind of confusion. “Sleep,” he repeated, and she closed her eyes. “Good girl.”