Page 67 of Dr. Stone (Billionaires’ Club #9)

My arousal built by the second, and I knew I couldn’t hold on to this edge much longer. Jace’s rhythm quickened, matching the surge that forced my hips to respond to every thrust.

“I need to watch you come, baby,” he exhaled, his eyes liquid in their trance. “That’s it,” he exhaled and smiled. “Give me all of you.”

The coiled-up orgasm that had been waiting for this man’s permission to release decimated every other orgasm I’d ever had.

I couldn’t stop crying out his name as the pleasure burned and radiated through every inch of me, more powerful and intense than anything I’d ever fucking felt before.

Jace arched into my release, a low growl escaping him as his body tensed with one final thrust, perfectly syncing with the pleasure I was still riding.

And unlike the other times—the breathless talking, the urgent desire to keep building on back-to-back orgasms—this time, we let ourselves linger in the moment. We soaked in the stillness, grateful for the rare gift of being fully present together.

Jace buried his face in my neck, then whispered the words that made my chest ache more than any other: “I’m yours forever.”

In that moment, I didn’t care what tomorrow looked like because I was his and he was mine. Thank God it didn’t take a year of heartbreak and devastation for us to get exactly where we belonged. Here. Just him and me together, where no one could ever threaten to tear us apart again.

That night, Jace fell asleep with his arm still wrapped around my waist, his face buried in the side of my neck as if he couldn’t let go, not even in his sleep. And I didn’t want him to.

It was different— he was different—because this was real.

Our souls had been urging our hearts and bodies forward from the very beginning, pushing us into something so intense, so fast, we couldn’t tell if it was real at the time.

But now, it was undeniable. Like our souls had known the truth all along—as if they’d met in another lifetime and were finally finding their way back to each other, precisely as they were meant to.

I lay there quietly, too happy and fulfilled to sleep and too intoxicated on this man’s sudden devotion to move.

The sheets tangled around our legs, my skin still tingling from every place he’d touched—not just touched, but rediscovered, as if he’d never truly paid attention before.

It was like he’d studied me, like he needed to remember how I felt wrapped around him, and the way I sounded when I whispered his name.

But now, he was still and peaceful. He looked so damn attractive and young like this, like he was softer, but still so deeply him. His jaw, which had been clenched for most of the time since I’d first met him, was finally relaxed. His breathing was slow, steady, and warm against my bare shoulder.

I let my eyes trace every inch of him, fully absorbing this new way I was seeing his perfect soul—his broad shoulders, the small scar across his chest, and the subtle twitch of his hand, like even in sleep, he was ready to protect.

He was so damn beautiful, strong, and controlled.

I could now easily see the surgeon in him and why he was amazing in his field of work.

Everything about him screamed power and discipline and intensity, but here, with me right now, with nothing between us but breath and skin and trust…

he looked like a man who had finally let himself rest.

And my heart ached for him. Because I didn’t know how often he allowed himself to do that or if he had ever done so until tonight.

How often did he get to just…be? No surgical scrubs or patients whose lives depended on his skilled mind and steady hands.

There was no weight on his shoulders and no expectations—just him.

My fingers drifted over his wrist, lightly tracing the veins beneath his skin. His grip on me tightened instinctively, even in sleep, pulling me closer with a quiet groan as he buried his face a little deeper into my neck.

“Still here,” I whispered, brushing my lips against his temple. “I’m not going anywhere ever again, baby,” I said, curling into him more and kissing his chest.

I lay there with his heartbeat steady against my back, knowing deep down—no matter what happened next—this night was carved into me forever.

Jace

I woke up more satisfied than I’d been in my entire damn life, and I glanced over at the woman who was the reason for that, seeing that she was still asleep.

The silk sheets were tangled around her hips, while her bare back rose and fell with each soft breath she peacefully took.

Her hair was a mess of curls across the pillow, her perfect mouth slightly open, while one arm reached toward the side of the bed where I’d been before I slipped out from under her.

God, she looked so damn beautiful being ravished, satiated, and more than all that, safe with me again.

I stood at the edge of the bed for a moment, just watching her, memorizing her, and then it hit me: that strange, quiet calm I’d only ever found in operating rooms right before cutting into a beating heart.

Only this time, mine was the one laid bare.

Last night, I didn’t just make love to her. I vowed something with my hands, with my mouth, and with every part of me that had once forgotten how to feel. I memorized her like I memorized complicated anatomy with slow, reverent obsession.

But it was even deeper than that because it wasn’t out of need; it was out of want.

Every kiss was a promise, and every touch was a reckoning.

I wasn’t trying to win her over like in a normal relationship because, God have mercy, nothing about us or this pull between us was normal.

It was something bigger. Something more profound.

So, last night, all I did was prove what I’d known in silence for months, and it took nearly losing all hope of a future with her to show it finally.

And that was that this woman, this impossibly strong, soft, guarded woman, was mine.

She was always meant to be mine. Before the first night we even met, fate already knew, and now, I did too.

I saw it clearly, like I’d known it my entire fucking life.

Nothing about what happened last night felt casual. God only knew I’d had plenty of sex before, all of which was fast, forgettable, and necessary in the heat of those fleeting moments. But last night wasn’t about release. It was about surrendering to all of her without question.

The grand suite I’d asked Sebastian to prepare for us opened onto a luxurious, expansive private deck—one of his personal luxuries that most guests never got to see aboard Vanguard .

And true to form, my good friend wasted no time in making sure Andie and I could enjoy it exactly as it was meant to be.

As much as I wanted to stay here and never leave this moment I was cherishing, I had to check on Duke.

Once on deck, I glanced outside, seeing the Adriatic sparkling like molten sapphire while the sun gently rose over this majestic sea.

The yacht’s engines were quiet, anchored just off the coast of Hvar, while the sunlight spilled across the polished teak deck.

I inhaled deeply, letting the warm, salty air fill my lungs as a light breeze greeted me the moment I stepped outside, coffee in hand, already scanning the deck for where the rascal was likely bossing the dog sitter around.

I nodded at the steward as he stepped out of a private passageway onto the deck where I was having a quick cup of coffee, and watched as he went about setting things in place to prepare for Sebastian and Darcy’s guests.

Somewhere below, I heard Sebastian laughing with Jake and Darcy, and then I spotted the pup of the hour. Mr. Duke was being walked by one of the staff on the lower deck, his tail wagging, and his goofy head turning like he expected to see Andie at any minute.

Little shit’s already being spoiled by the staff, I thought, watching two more staff members walk up to greet him. Looks like I didn’t even need to check on the con artist.

I looked up and spotted the Hawk brothers on the deck where the helipad was. I decided to give Andie a few more minutes of sound sleep and join the men since it’d been a minute since I’d seen Titus’s younger brothers, Colton and Wyatt.

When I stepped out onto the helipad deck, I smirked as I saw Titus leaning against the rail in a gray linen button-down, holding court with his usual cool dominance.

His next youngest brother, Colton, had a leather-bound portfolio open on a teak table, while Wyatt, the youngest of the three Spanish Casanovas, was sipping his espresso and wearing aviators as if he were ready for a black-ops mission.

Catching a bit of the conversation as I approached and hearing the word Amalfi , I knew what it was about. The three brothers, who worked more than they slept and loved their women whenever they could spare the time, were discussing the launch of their new resort on the famous Italian coast.

Last I heard about it from Titus, Colton had spearheaded this one—cliffside suites, underwater wine cellars, and the kind of infinity pool that made these billionaires feel like gods.

“Buenos dias, hermano,” Titus said without looking up. “You sleep?” he questioned with humor in his voice.

I smirked. “Eventually.”

Wyatt grinned over his cup. “That explains why she’s not here.”

“Or does it?” Colton added with a soft laugh.

“It’s been a while,” I said, reaching out to shake Wyatt’s hand while I clapped Colton on his shoulder. “How’s the hotel coming along? I think that’s the last I’d heard from you both?”

“Oh, you know how this goes with us,” Wyatt said. “We think we have things nailed down until Colton comes in with his fucking stiff budgets, and while that shit’s happening?—”