Novel & Cerita Tangled In His Sheets

He was acting compassionate towards her,with the way he touched her and looked at her. His tender touch only tying her stomach into a knot,the butterflies finding it difficult to escape. When he was satisfied at how stained the sheets were,he guided her off the bed. Gathering the sheets,he headed towards the door,unlocking and closing it behind him. He didn't need anyone catching a glimpse of her although they wouldn't live if they did. She stood at the spot all sticky and feeling unease. The cramps were getting worse by the moment. Alessandro came in shortly after a few minutes.

His and showed not so much since he had wrapped himself in several sheets. “I guess he's sleeping, "I said, not sure why I felt sad, but I was happy he wasn't so bothered. I guess I was worried for no reason. I wanted to turn around and go, but he wasn't sleeping in a good position, especially his head. I slowly climbed on the bed and crawled up to him. I tried to keep the sheets off, so I could make him sleep straight, so he didn't get any neck pains the next day, but immediately I drew the sheets from his chest. He shifted around, dragging me with him and pulling me down.

Somehow, impossibly, it was over. I blinked slowly, letting my eyes adjust. The room was dimly lit by the soft glow of a bedside lamp. White sheets, crisp and cool, covered me, tucked neatly around my shoulders. My hair was tangled and messy, but there was no smell of smoke, no trace of the chaos from last night. Only the faint lingering scent of him—Xander. Clean, sharp, unmistakably him.

The weight of his gaze made her pull the sheet higher over her chest, as though it could protect her from the truth written in his eyes. “You didn’t sleep,” she whispered. “No.” His voice was calm, steady. But his jaw was tight, his hands restless on the sheet. Her heart skipped. “Because of me?” “Because of your lies.” His words were sharp, a blade hidden in silk. The sting of them cut her deeper than she expected. She sat up, the sheet clutched to her, her hair tumbling in waves around her face. “I never asked you to tie me up, Carson. I never asked for.”

I threw him onto the center of the giant king-sized bed. The silk sheets wrinkled under his body as he rolled onto his back. His blonde hair was messy, and his chest rose and fell as he stared up at me. The difference between us under the blue LED lights was huge. I stood over him, a wall of raw, scarred muscle with my wrapped knuckles still stained with dried blood. He was pale, smooth, and beautiful, looking up at me like he was completely ready for me.

He wiped the tears on my cheeks and placed kisses in its stead. I sniffled, “Carmelo,” my lips trembled, “Yes, tesoro.” A deep breath left me, “Lay with me,” I uttered. His gaze was quizzical and then he smiled. Of course he smiled. Ugh, this man. “Okay.” He took off his shoes, rounded the bed and slid in the covers behind me. I exhaled and whispered, “Closer.” He moved in further, his hand rested around my waist and his face nestling in my hair. His cold feet tangled with mine under the sheets. “Better?” he asked, “Hmm,” I hummed. I wished to forget the accident. I knew it was going to haunt me in my sleep from now on, just like many others did before. Today that son of a devil almost took

Owen P.O.V Turning the shower off, I reached for the towel hanging on the rack, shaking off the droplets of water clinging to my skin before wrapping the soft fabric securely around my waist. Steam curled in the air around me as I stepped out of the bathroom, my bare feet sinking slightly into the plush carpet. I ran a hand through my damp hair, pushing it back from my forehead as my gaze swept across the room. The bed looked like it had been through a war ,sheets tangled and twisted, pillows scattered across the floor, and the blanket knotted up like someone had tried to wrestle with it in their sleep. A mess, no doubt, but the one responsible for it, the wild little tornado from last night

He devoured my reaction and the blush stained across my cheeks and neck. Pure white feathers were tangled in the thick strands of his hair, jutting out at all angles—actually, they were everywhere. Plush tufts floating from a few feet above, drifting downwards as they became tangled in the sheets and within my curls. The tattered remains of the pillow I threw at him sat between us, shredded from the claws that now sunk back into my fingers. My eyes darted down to the silken sheets—the ones that matched the dark décor of the suite I slept in, the one that clearly did not belong to me.

The room was dimly lit, a soft amber glow from the bedside lamp casting long shadows across the walls. Alexander sat propped against a mound of pillows, his broad frame diminished by the weakness that still clung to him. His shirt hung loosely from his shoulders, unbuttoned at the collar, his chest bandaged beneath layers of gauze. He parted his lips as if to speak, but no words came.

“Shit—!” He shot off the bed like he’d been electrocuted, yanking the entire blanket with him in a panic. The sheets came with it, twisting around my legs like a vengeful ghost. He stumbled backward, half-naked, clutching the blanket like it was a shield and I was a damn dragon about to breathe fire. “Did we—did we… you know?” he sputtered, looking both horrified and confused, his voice high with panic. I raised an eyebrow, leaning casually back against the pillows, completely bare under what little dignity I had left.