Page 21 of Collide (The Rhapsody of Heartbeats #1)

Singing for an audience doesn’t faze me, but this? Singing for one person—for him—feels precariously intimate.

His lips twitch as if sensing my hesitation. “Come on, let’s get comfortable.” He grabs our mugs of tea, nodding toward the lounge area.

I slide off the counter, following him toward the plush couch in the dimly lit living space. The rain continues its rhythmic tapping against the window.

Alex settles onto the sofa first, setting our mugs down on the coffee table, before grabbing the shirt sitting on the armrest and putting it on. He leans back, stretching one arm across the top of the cushions, his gaze lazy but attentive.

I hover for a second, nerves buzzing beneath my skin.

Then he pats the space beside him.

“Don’t tell me you’re shy, ?lskling?” he teases.

“?lskling?”

“It’s darling. In Swedish.” He winks.

I blush.

The endearing nickname catches me off guard—the way it rolls off his tongue so smoothly, it melts straight through the cracks in walls I’ve spent years holding up.

I let out a nervous breath and settle in beside him, close enough that my thigh brushes against his.

Alex shifts slightly, turning his body toward me, waiting.

I clear my throat, pressing my palms against my knees for grounding. “I rarely do private concerts.”

A smug grin tugs at his mouth. “I guess I’m special, then.”

I shake my head, but a smile curls at my lips.

Closing my eyes briefly, I take a deep breath and let the melody settle before letting it spill out into the quiet space between us.

The words come softly at first, a breath above a whisper, before finding their strength.

I don’t hold back.

I sing with all of it—the ache, the longing, the love I’ve never quite known but have always dreamed of.

The moment is weightless.

By the time I finish, the room is silent except for the faint hum of rain against the window.

I open my eyes.

Alex is staring at me.

Not just watching—he’s completely lost in me.

His usual cocky smirk is gone, replaced by something almost dazed.

“Elena,” he breathes, his voice hoarse, reverent.

His fingers twitch, like he wants to touch me, but isn’t sure if he should.

Then he does.

A gentle brush of his fingertips against my jaw, his thumb tracing my cheek.

“That was…” He stops himself, shaking his head slightly, as if struggling for words.

Before I can respond, before I can overthink it?—

He pulls me into his lap and kisses me—deep, consuming. I straddle him, arms locked around his shoulders, sinking into the heat of him.

I lean into the kiss, savoring the taste of him.

Then I feel it.

His hard bulge. Pressing against me.

A rush of panic crashes into the desire. My breath hitches. His hands slide over me, slow, certain, as if he knows exactly what he’s doing to me.

Our lips part as his mouth moves lower, dragging along my chin, my throat. He licks, sucks, bites just enough to make me moan. My head tilts back. My hips grind into him, and I feel the wetness pooling.

And then—air.

My eyes flutter open.

The want is real. So is the fear.

Heart racing, a hit of panic tinges my emotions as I think about where this might lead, down a path completely unknown to me.

Virgin territory.

“Alex,” I whisper, in between gasps. “Alex?” I’m drowning in a mixture of desire and vulnerability.

“Mmm.” His lips massage kisses against my neck.

I exhale shakily, my fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt.

“There’s something I need to tell you.” My voice is barely above a whisper.

He leans back, his wild gaze locked on mine, silently urging me to go on. It nearly disarms me.

“I…” I hesitate, my throat tightening. “I’m a virgin.”

I brace for shock, awkwardness—something.

Instead, his expression doesn’t change.

No flinch. No judgment.

Then a low chuckle escapes him.

“I must confess, Elena,” he deadpans, “I am not.”

I let out a surprised laugh, tension snapping like a rubber band.

Alex’s grin widens, his eyes bright with mirth, warmth—and something deeper.

“It’s no big deal,” he murmurs, brushing a loose strand of hair from my face. “We’ll take things at your pace.”

Relief floods me.

Then, his lips curl into that damn smirk.

“Though I should warn you.” His voice drops to a low, intense growl, his hand trailing slowly down my spine. “I’m very good in bed.”

My mind races with a million dirty thoughts, and I swat his chest.

“Alex!” The thought both excites and terrifies me as heat creeps into my cheeks. I hide my face in his neck, breathing in the scent of him.

“Elena”—he traces his fingers down my back, making me shiver—“you don’t have to be ashamed. It’s impressive, actually,” he says softly.

“ Impressive ?”

“That a beautiful woman like you hasn’t been ravished like she should. It’s a crime, really. Is there something wrong with the men of Australia?” he asks, his voice filled with mock disbelief.

We both laugh, the sound cutting through the tension and easing my nerves.

And for the first time, I realize?—

I don’t feel afraid. I sigh, my fingers absentmindedly tracing the fabric of the borrowed shirt.

“Alex, there’s something you should know about me,” I say, my voice quieter now. “I don’t trust easily.”

I feel his gaze on me—calm and unwavering.

“I’ve been hurt before,” I continue, exhaling softly. “For a long time, I thought it was easier to keep people at arm’s length and focus on other things—school, my career—rather than get caught up in something that could hurt me,”

I don’t elaborate. I don’t want to ruin the moment.

Alex doesn’t push, and for that, I’m grateful.

His fingers brush against the back of my hand, the warmth of his touch grounding me. “And now?”

“Now…” My lips twitch slightly, barely a smile. “I don’t know. I feel like throwing caution to the wind. I’m starting to see things differently. Wanting things I’ve never experienced, searching for something more .”

Alex’s gaze darkens, his fingers stilling against my skin.

“And what do you want?”

I swallow, my pulse thrumming like a live wire.

“You.”

The word slips out in a whisper, weighty and raw, carrying years of suppressed longing.

I’ve wanted him since the moment I saw him in that hospital—the connection, the pull, the danger of it all.

His breath hitches, his lips parting slightly like my confession has knocked the air right out of him.

Then a grin spreads across his face, and for a moment, he looks just like the photo in his bedroom, and I like that I made him feel that way.

For once, I don’t overthink. Curiosity and desire drowning out the fear and anxiety.

“Can…I touch you?” The words spill out before I can second-guess them, bold and breathless. My fingers twitch, aching to explore his body—if he’ll let me.

Alex exhales slowly.

“Anywhere you want.” He nods once, voice hoarse.

I reach for the hem of his shirt and tug it over his head in one swift motion. I want to see and feel every inch of his body.

His eyes are hooded.

I lick my lips, taking in the shape of him—his chest, the lean definition of muscle and skin.

My fingers skim across his torso, slow and light.

Warmth radiates off him, alive under my touch.

I press my palm to his chest, right over the steady thrum of his heart.

I move slowly, deliberately, mapping every ridge and plane like it’s mine to remember.

His eyes burn, breaths becoming heavier with every passing second.

I find his hands and guide them to my thighs, pushing them beneath the fabric of my loose shorts. His fingers meet my skin, and his grip tightens.

Slowly, I pull his hands back out and slip them under my shirt.

Alex’s eyes widen.

The moment his fingers touch my stomach, his body tenses. Between my thighs, his bulge throbs against me.

His hungry gaze flickers to mine, realization dawning when he feels my breasts. No barriers. It pulses again, radiating heat through me, my body throbbing in response. I grind myself against him. Desperate to soothe that ache.

A deep, guttural sound rumbles from him before his teeth sink into his bottom lip, his restraint hanging by a thread.

“Elena,” he murmurs, voice thick with need.

Alex leans in, his nose brushing along the column of my neck. Breathing me in, his warm breath sends tingles down my spine. His hands cup my breast, his fingers kneading softly, testing my reaction.

A gasp escapes my throat, my back arching slightly as he brushes his thumbs over my nipples. A dark chuckle vibrates against my throat.

“So sensitive.” His voice is soft, barely a whisper.

Then Alex’s lips are on mine, swallowing my moan in a kiss that’s deep, slow, and utterly consuming.

His tongue sliding against mine, savoring every second.

I barely notice when he shifts, pressing me against his perfect body. The heat of him. The solidity. The sheer intensity of the moment.

When he pulls away, I’m breathless, and my world tilts off its axis.

Alex’s thumb drags along my lower lip, his gaze never leaving mine.

“Can I touch you? I want to watch you come for me.”

The words pulse between us, spoken with quiet, devastating confidence.

I’ve never had an orgasm with someone else before, and a wave of anticipation and nervous excitement crashes over me.

I nod, shyly at first, but there’s no hesitation. I want this. I want to know what it feels like with someone else.

With him.

Alex exhales sharply, his restraint snapping like a frayed wire.

He grabs me by the waist, shifting me easily off his lap and laying me down beneath him.

The weight of him is new, comforting.

Alex traces his lips over my skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

I barely have time to catch my breath before he positions himself beside me, his leg grappling mine, holding me open, his hand gliding lower—his touch as measured as it is unrelenting.

Alex moves with an unbearable confidence, like he has all the time in the world to unravel me piece by piece.

I suck in a breath as his fingers skim the elastic waistband of my shorts, the bare skin of my hip, teasing, exploring, learning me.

“You’re trembling.”

Alex’s lips ghost over my jaw, his voice laced with something dark—almost reverent.

I hadn’t even realized.

“It’s not—I mean, I’m not scared,” I manage to whisper, swallowing past the lump in my throat.

I feel his slow, satisfied grin against my neck. “No,” he says, his hand slipping between my thighs, fingers tracing the edge of something forbidden. “You’re not scared at all.”

I shake my head, breath ragged, body wired tight.

His lips graze my pulse point. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”

I exhale shakily, gripping his bicep. “No, please, I want it,” I beg, hungry for him, starved for years. “ Touch me. ”

His breath catches for a second. Then, without another word, his hand brushes my panties to the side as he slides lower, pressing against me.

A sharp, helpless gasp escapes my lips as his fingers spread me.

Oh.

My body reacts instantly, heat pooling, nerves short-circuiting, as he strokes my clit with slow, devastating precision.

Alex’s mouth curves against my skin. “So wet.” His voice is pure sin, his fingers exploring, testing. “Is that all for me, Darling?”

“Yes,” I pant.

“Good girl,” he growls.

My entire body betrays me—hips jerking as his fingers circle right where I need him most.

I let out a soft whimper, my fingers clawing at his bicep. “Alex?—”

He hums in satisfaction, his teeth scraping lightly along my throat, nipping just enough to make me shudder.

“Relax,” he murmurs, his free hand slides beneath my shirt, lifting it and placing his lips on my bare nipple.

My back arches, the sensation threatening to overwhelm every fiber of my being.

His fingers glide with maddening precision, stoking the heat building inside me. Each pass is a spark, a wave—jolting me back to life.

Alex’s mouth finds my breasts, his tongue tracing my nipples, lips worshipping them into stiff peaks.

A new kind of pressure builds, something foreign, something I can’t quite chase on my own.

I squirm, my breathing fractured and uneven.

Alex knows.

He can feel it.

“Give it to me,” he whispers against my skin—his voice low, coaxing, drenched in dark promise.

His fingers press a little deeper, moving in perfect rhythm, tuned into my every reaction, every shaky breath, every desperate whimper.

I feel like I’m going to break apart.

My body is winding tighter, hotter, sharper, something tantalizingly close, but just out of reach.

Alex senses it immediately, his pace shifting slightly—his fingers relentless and determined, mouth devouring my breasts with greedy focus.

“Elena,” he groans, almost like he’s the one unravelling.

And then?—

The pressure snaps.

A shattered, breathless cry spills from my lips as pleasure slams into me, hot and all-consuming, spreading through me like wildfire.

My back arches, fingers digging into his shoulders, waves of pure ecstasy crashing over me as he coaxes me through every last tremor and aftershock of my orgasm.

It takes a moment for my breathing to slow, my body still pulsing from the intensity of it all. Alex pulls away, his breath just as ragged.

I look up at him through my lashes, dazed, lips parted, chest rising and falling in uneven breaths.

His eyes are dark and hungry, watching me like he witnessed something holy.

His thumb drags lazily across my thigh.

“Fuck, that was…” I pant, my tongue unable to find the words.

A slow, satisfied grin tugs at his lips.

“You’re incredible,” he murmurs, pressing a lingering kiss to my shoulder, his voice still thick with need. “And so, so beautiful.”

My skin burns under his touch, but before I can say anything, he leans in, kissing me deeply, stealing whatever breath I might have had left.

Alex pulls away, withdrawing his fingers from my pussy and slipping them into his mouth.

My eyes widen, and my heart almost goes into cardiac arrest.

Did he…after a mind-altering orgasm—he does that?

“You taste so fucking sweet,” he groans, licking his lips.

My lungs seize with want. Luckily, my mind manages to recover.

“You can’t have dessert before dinner,” I tease, surprising myself.

He smirks, laying his head on my chest as we watch the rain outside.

I don’t know where this night will end, but for the first time…

I don’t care.