Page 23 of These Reckless Hearts

He delves his fingers into my skin, massaging small circles into my neck. “No, I want kids because I can’t think of a better way to spend my life than with you and little humans who are pieces of you.”

My heart squeezes. Taking a page out of Wyatt’s book, I attempt a joke. “You’re really hammering this apology home, aren’t you?” This kind of talk scares me. It’s not that I don’t want it, it just all seems too big for little old me.

“It’s not an apology. It’s a promise.”

My cheeks flush. This is different than my father making me agree to have kids and keep the Wilder legacy alive. No, this is something else entirely. This is the sharing of dreams. Of lives. Of souls.

“It’s the truth,” he articulates. “One day, I’m going to ask you to marry me becauseIwant to. It’s not going to be an arrangement between families and businesses. It’s going to be a representation of the single greatest thing in the entire world: love. I probably would’ve asked already if I thought you’d say yes.”

I grip his wrist, sliding my thumb over his skin. “What makes you think I won’t?”

Stone’s gaze hardens, and the lines of his jaw tense. “You’re killing my resolve, babe.” He moans, the sound vibrating through my core. “I think....” He groans. “Honestly, I think you’re too busy to enjoy it. I think you’d worry about Wyatt and Lucas and the treasure and everything else going on. We’d be starting out on a rocky slope instead of the solid foundation you deserve.”

I swallow. “What about Wyatt and Lucas?” Neither of them has said anything about marriage, and I’m not actually sure I can get married to all three, but that doesn’t really matter, does it? A marriage license is a piece of paper. There are many ways to be tied to someone. Not only in the eyes of the government, but in hearts and promises, and that’s exactly what Stone is offering.

I want to take it. Capture it in my hands and run away just like he offered.

But....

“The treasure,” he guesses, reading my face with a smile.

“I can’t shake it.”

“It’s not a bad thing.” Stone steps between my legs until our chests brush against one another’s with every breath we take. “It’s who you are, and I love who you are. All that other stuff can wait because my love for you sure as hell isn’t going anywhere.” His Adam’s apple bobs. “I’m sorry if standing up with Marissa stained us. I was going through the motions. I hated every damn second of it. I had a picture of you in my head the whole time. You were everything I thought of. And when it's you and I standing together, it’ll be everything. I can promise you that.”

I press a finger to his lips. “I don’t ever want to hear the name Marissa again. I don’t ever want you to bring up what happened either. It’s done.”

He swoops forward, capturing me in a blistering kiss. “Done,” he mumbles against my mouth, then continues to erase every thought that pops into my head with his skilled tongue. My brain haywires until he melds it back together so that bitch isn’t even a blip on my radar.

Picking me up, he wraps my legs around his waist. The ultra-thin barrier of his joggers has me rocking into his stiffening cock.

He stops my movements, digging his fingers into my ass until I cry out against his lips. He walks toward the couch and sits me on the cushions, untangling my limbs from him before getting to his knees in front of me. Closing his eyes, he bows his head, throat working.

“Don’t you do it,” I warn, worried he’s going to apologize again. I thought that’s what I wanted, but it only reinforces the image of him almost marrying someone else, and right now, I want nothing to do with it. I just want this. “I already forgave you.”

Pressing his palms into my thighs, he runs them up my legs until he curls his fingers around the waistband of my pants. He gives them a tug, and I lift my hips to allow him easy access to pull them down. He traces his fingers up the inside of my leg, over the soft spot of my knee, and to my inner thighs where he pushes to widen my legs.

My breath hitches at the mere idea of him going down on me. Juices trickle out, and I moan. “I’m going to ruin the couch.”

“Then I’ll buy a new couch. Right now, I want to taste you. I’ve been watching the video we made in the car. Fuck, Dakota, I think I’ve jacked myself raw.”

I sit up, reaching for his tented sweats. “Maybe you need a kiss.”

He catches my hand before I can touch him. “This is about you.”

“This is about us.” I pull my shirt over my head, then unclasp my bra until I’m bare. I lie on the couch, lifting a brow at him. “Undress and straddle my face, Stone Jacobs.”

His chest expands.

“Now,” I demand.

He pulls his shirt off hesitantly. I salivate over his hard muscles and the V leading into his sweats. When he stands, I get an even better view as he teases his waistband with his thumbs hooked under the elastic. He drops his pants, his erection rigid and waiting. “Let me lie down, so I don’t choke you.”

He pulls me into a kiss that bruises my lips, suffocating me in the best way. After he pulls away, he lies on the sofa, his body a masterpiece of hard lines and taut muscle. “Now, straddlemyface, Dakota Wilder.”

I don’t hesitate. I position my knees on either side of his head and lean forward to close my mouth around the head of his cock. He jerks before cupping my ass and moving me down to trace his tongue over my pussy. Both of us moan at the same time.

Moving my lips down his cock, I relish his moans. “Yes, Dakota,” he whispers, his hot breath caressing my swollen flesh.

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