Page 20 of Heart of Stone (Stoneheart MC #1)

ANDI

T he party still pulses outside, but in Hawk's bedroom, everything feels different. Quieter. More intense.

He doesn’t rush me, doesn’t push. He just leads me through the house with his hand on my lower back, the heat of his touch burning through my shirt. Now he stands watching me, giving me space to change my mind.

I don’t want to change my mind.

“I can hear you thinking,” he says softly.

“Bad habit.” I manage a smile. “Occupational hazard.”

He crosses to me slowly, like I might startle. “Want to tell me what’s going on in that head of yours?”

I look up at him, at this man who somehow becomes the center of my world without me noticing. The man who makes pancakes for the twins and rocks Adam to sleep. The man who looks at me like I’m something precious instead of something broken.

“I’m scared,” I admit.

His hands come up to frame my face. “Of what?”

“Everything.” I swallow hard.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” The admission costs me something, but his smile makes it worth it.

“Come here.”

He kisses me like he has all night, like we have all the time in the world. His hands slide into my hair as he draws me closer, and I let myself melt into him.

This is different from our other kisses. Those had been stolen moments, charged with tension and uncertainty. This... this feels like coming home.

“Been thinking about this all week,” he murmurs against my lips.

“That why you kept stopping by the shop?”

His laugh rumbles through his chest. “Guilty.”

I slide my hands under his shirt, needing to feel his skin. He’s all hard muscle and heated flesh, and the sound he makes when my nails scrape lightly across his stomach sends heat pooling low in my belly.

“Off,” I demand, tugging at the fabric.

He complies, pulling back just long enough to strip off his shirt. I haven’t seen him shirtless before, and now that I do, I feel like I’ve been granted all my Christmas wishes at once.

His broad chest is a masterpiece of lean muscle and intricate ink—dark lines flow across his left pectoral and down his ribs, while a skull wraps around his right shoulder. Stoneheart MC is branded on his skin, marking him as a lifer.

I like it. I like that he’s committed. That he belongs.

While the tattoos are a roadmap I want to explore, right now, I just want him.

“Your turn,” he growls, fingers finding the hem of my top.

I hesitate only a moment before lifting my arms. The fabric whispers over my skin, and then I’m standing in just my bra, feeling exposed.

“Beautiful,” he breathes, hands spanning my waist. “So fucking beautiful.”

No one has ever looked at me like this—like I’m something to be cherished rather than used. Like my curves are perfect instead of too much.

“Hawk—”

“I’ve got you.” He pulls me close, skin to skin. “I’ve got you, little lamb.”

For the first time in my life, I let myself believe it.

His mouth finds mine again as we move toward the bed. Clothes fall away between kisses, between touches that grow increasingly desperate. When he finally slides into me, I gasp his name.

“Look at me,” he demands softly.

I open my eyes, finding his locked on mine.

“Stay with me,” he says. “Right here. With me.”

I nod, unable to look away as he begins to move. Everything else falls away—the party outside, my fears. There’s only this, only him, only us.

I arch into his touch, needing more, craving more.

He obliges, his mouth trailing fire down my neck, across my collarbones, lower still to take one aching nipple between his lips.

I cry out, my fingers sinking into his hair to hold him in place.

The scrape of his beard against my skin is a delicious contrast to the wet heat of his mouth.

“Hawk, please...” I don’t know what I’m begging for, only that I need it, need him.

“Please what?” he murmurs against my skin.

His touch is gentle—reverent almost—as his hands map my curves. The way he touches me makes me feel beautiful. Cherished.

I meet his gaze, seeing something there that makes my chest tight. No one has ever looked at me like this—like I am precious, like I matter.

"You're everything," he whispers, pressing his forehead to mine.

I wrap my arms around him, pulling him closer, needing to feel his warmth, his strength, his steadiness. His heartbeat thunders against my palm where it rests on his chest, matching my own racing pulse.

The moment stretches between us, heavy with meaning. Then he kisses me—slow and deep and perfect—and I stop thinking altogether.

His hands tangle in my hair as he angles my head, deepening the kiss. His other hand slips under my shirt, skimming up my spine and sending shivers dancing across my skin.

I moan into his mouth, arching into his touch.

He pulls away, gasping for air. "God, Andi..."

I lean up on my elbows, tracing a finger along his jawline. "Good?"

He grins. "Perfect."

"Excellent," I say breathlessly, tugging him lower again. "Because I'm not done with you yet."

I don't know how much longer I can take this torture. Hawk's mouth is a drug, his touch pure fire, and with every second that passes, my control frays that little bit more.

"Condom," I manage to whimper.

He pulls back, holding eye contact as he reaches for his bedside drawer. Our fingers brush as he hands it over, a shock of electricity sizzling between us.

"Put it on me," he commands softly.

His eyes rake over me, dark and hungry, and my legs clench in response.

God, I am wet. So fucking wet.

Slowly, I unbutton his jeans, my gaze never leaving his. I can see the feral need in him, the way he fights for control as I tease him.

I free him from his pants, licking my lips nervously as I gaze down at the fistful of cock I've revealed. He is average size but thick, so thick I know he'll need to stretch me before being able to work his way inside.

"Can I taste?" I ask, holding his cock in one hand, the condom in the other.

His rumbled reply is lost as he bunches his fingers in my hair and gently pushes me down.

My tongue swirls around the head of his cock, his groaned appreciation shooting lightning through me.

"Fuck."

"Too much?" I ask, looking up at him with a cheeky grin.

"Never."

I smirk and oblige, taking more of him into my mouth. He clenches his fists in the bedsheets as I explore—teasing him with long, slow laps of my tongue, gently stroking my nails down his shaft.

"Fuck it." Hawk jackknifes into a seat, slipping his arms under me. In a move so smooth and effective I can't help but be impressed, he has me flipped until my pussy is directly above his face, my mouth over his cock.

"Better?" I ask, shooting him a grin over my shoulder. His answer is to plunge his face into me, his greedy mouth finding my clit.

Then it is my turn to groan.

With a muffled chuckle, he sets to work, his tongue lapping at my sensitive nubbin, sending me into a tailspin of pleasure.

Arching my back, I ride his face, grinding my hips against his mouth as he chases the sensations he creates. I grip his cock, jerking it as I pant, utterly destroyed by his hands which are everywhere. He strokes my thighs, cups my breasts, and tweaks my nipples, allowing no space to recover.

"Harder," I gasp.

He complies, his tongue lapping at my entrance as he pushes two fingers inside me.

With a moan, I fall upon his cock, sucking him deep. He tastes salty against my tongue, filling my mouth and throat as I suck him, working his shaft with my hands.

Desperation drives us, each fighting to make the other lose control first.

"Fuck, Andi." Hawk groans. "You taste so fucking good."

I gasp in response, my pussy clenching around his fingers as my orgasm builds. I pull back, rolling the condom down his shaft as he works me.

"Want you inside me."

"Not yet," he croons. "Come first."

His tongue resumes its tortured pleasure as his words tip me over. I scream his name as I come apart.

I release his cock to brace myself against his legs, grinding against his face, desperate to draw out my release.

His hands wrap around my thick thighs, holding me against him. He grunts, pleasurable sounds that feed my desire.

He is so good, so fucking good.

"Fuck, Andi."

That is all the warning I get before he pulls away and flips me over, pinning me to the bed.

His eyes blaze with hunger and something else—something darker, more primal.

He doesn't give me time to process, sliding his cock first against me then into me, working his length until my tight, protesting muscles force him to stop.

I gasp, my pussy clenching around him as he stretches me, waits for me to adjust to his girth.

He groans, burrowing his face in the crook of my neck. "Fuck, you feel so tight. Let me work you a little more."

I can only whimper in response, pleasure unraveling like a tightly coiled spring.

"I've wanted you for so fucking long," he grinds out between clenched teeth.

I huff out a laugh. "You’ve known me for less than two weeks."

"Exactly."

He pulls back, working into me in small shallow thrusts. I arch my hips, trying to pull him deeper despite the slight pain.

"Hurry," I pant, clutching at him.

His pace doesn't falter. "I'm being slow," he growls.

"But I need more."

He chuckles as he clips his hips forward again, causing me to moan. "Tell me what you want me to do."

I can feel the tension building again, coiling in my stomach and lower down. I grab his ass, extracting a low moan from him as he picks up the pace. "Faster, harder."

He catches my mouth in a feral kiss. His tongue moves against mine as he thrusts within me, one hand tangling in my hair while the other grips my hip.

Every touch feels like he is trying to memorize me, learn every curve, every response.

"That's it," he murmurs against my lips. "Let me hear you."

My nails rake down his back as pleasure builds between us. The weight of him above me, the strength in his arms as he holds himself up, the way his muscles move under my hands—it is overwhelming in the best way.

"You feel so good," he groans, his rhythm faltering slightly.

I tighten my legs around him, drawing him deeper. The new angle has us both moaning.

"Hawk," I gasp. "I need?—"

"I know what you need." His hand slides between us, finding exactly the right spot. "Come for me, little lamb. Let go."

The endearment, spoken in that rough voice, pushes me over the edge. I shatter around him, his name a cry on my lips. He follows moments later, burying his face in my neck as he groans my name.

He collapses onto me, his weight deliciously heavy.

We lay there, panting as our breathing evens out. His still-hard cock lies between us, the condom a reminder of what has just transpired.

With a groan, Hawk rolls off me and onto his side, pulling me into him. Exhausted, I allow him to hold me, curling against his chest. Our breathing slows, the sweat on our skin cooling.

With a sigh, I make to move but am stopped by his arms that clamp tight around me.

"Where you going?"

I glance up at him. "To bed."

"You're already in bed."

"I meant my bed."

"Babe." Hawk squeezes his arms, holding me in place. "Stay."

My eyebrows rise. "Really?"

"Mm." He pulls me in for a kiss. "Don't read into it. I just want to be able to fuck you later."

I chuckle, shoving his face away playfully. "What an offer."

His arms tighten around me. "Seriously, Andi. Stay."

I lift my head to meet his eyes, seeing in them everything I'd been afraid to want.

"Okay. Just for tonight."

His sly grin steals my breath.

"We'll see."