“That’s not happening,” I growl.
Stella opens her mouth to say something else, but I cut her off with a kiss. It starts off slow, and exploratory, but then I angle her head and deepen the kiss. I give her all of my unspoken words, hoping to convey what she means to me with every breath, every stroke of my tongue.
When we finally break apart for air, Stella rests her forehead on mine. I nudge her head up, drinking in her green eyes shining in awe. “I love you, Stella. With every part of me. Forever. This is my promise to you, beautiful. I will be the one you can trust, the one you can depend on no matter what.”
She smiles softly at me and kisses the corner of my mouth. “Thank you for loving me,” Stella murmurs. “I promise to fill your life with more sass and sarcasm, and hopefully some laughter and sweetness, too.”
"Stay," I say, the command bubbling up from deep in my chest. Stella’s lips curl into a slight smile and my brutish demand, much like they always do. Still, I continue. "Don't goback to your apartment. Don't go back to chasing shadows alone. Stay here. With me. Permanently."
Her smile widens, radiant and entirely unreserved. She shifts upward, pressing a warm, lingering kiss right over the jagged scar cutting through my eyebrow, then down to my lips.
"I was hoping you'd ask," she whispers against my mouth. "I'm not going anywhere."
She sighs contentedly as I draw her back into my chest and bury my face into the side of her neck, breathing in her calming, sweet vanilla scent. We are bound, skin to skin, soul to soul, in a way that time can never undo.
11
STELLA
Six weeks.
That’s how long it’s been since the smoke cleared at the timber yard and the weight of the Syndicate finally lifted off my shoulders. Six weeks of waking up without my heart hammering against my ribs, of walking through the sunlit corridors of Easton’s primary estate without checking every exit, without bracing for a blow that never comes.
The chaos of our introduction has melted away into a rich, peaceful domestic rhythm. I sit at the heavy oak desk in our shared home office, nursing a cup of coffee while the morning light streams across the hardwood. For the first time in my life, I don't feel like an underdog begging for scraps in the dark. I am safe. I am cherished. I am home.
A massive professional milestone sits glowing on my dual monitors. Yesterday afternoon, I officially cut ties with theColorado Free Press, leaving behind the fluff pieces and patronizing editors who told me I was too reckless for real news. My massive, deeply researched exposé detailing the rise and fall of the Shadow Syndicate dropped nationally last night. Major news networks picked it up within hours, and my phone hasn't stopped buzzing since.
My career isn't just surviving; it’s skyrocketing. And this time, I’m not doing it alone.
Footsteps echo softly in the doorway, heavy and familiar. Easton leans against the frame, wearing a simple dark t-shirt that stretches across his broad shoulders, a mug of coffee in one hand. The jagged scar slicing through his left eyebrow no longer looks like a badge of war; it’s just part of the face of the man who gave me the world.
He tracks the new high-stakes leads right alongside me, reviewing security protocols and digital data not as a warden, but as my permanent partner with fierce, protective love.
"Stop working so hard, reporter," he rumbles, his deep voice wrapping around me like a physical touch.
"I'm celebrating," I tease, spinning my chair around to face him with a triumphant smile.
In three long strides, he crosses the room, pulling me out of the chair and flush against his hard chest. He doesn't say a word, just buries his face in my neck, inhaling my scent like a man coming home from a very long war. The possessive edge is still there, as I imagine it always will be, but it’s tempered by a profound, unshakeable tenderness.
“I have something important to ask you,” Easton says, surprising me.
I nod and untangle myself from his hold so we can be face to face. My man is usually serious and stoic, but his tone right now is something else entirely. Is he… nervous?
“So, the thing is,” he starts, “I’ve been eyeing this ring online pretty much since the moment I laid eyes on you.” I tilt my head in confusion, then notice him pulling a small velvet box out of his pocket. “You know I’m not one for romance, but you have me wanting to get everything right. I’m not usually good with my words, Stella, but you make me want to say all of the sweetest things. I want to comfort you, challenge you, laugh withyou, grow with you. I want a family with you, sweetheart. I want forever with you. Will you marry me?”
I’m a blubbering mess right now, my heart so full of love I think it might just burst. I open my mouth to respond, but he cuts me off in a searing kiss. He breathes me in and swallows me down, possessing me, body and soul. I tear my mouth away from his and gulp down air, but Easton isn’t finished with me yet.
I feel his lips and tongue tease up and down my neck, and then he nibbles at my pulse point, making me gasp softly. “Need to be inside you now, Stella. Need to make love to my wife,” he whispers, diving in for another kiss.
I smack him playfully on the chest and take a small step back. “I haven’t even said yes yet!” I say with my hands on my hips, feigning outrage.
Easton’s beautiful brown eyes flash with lust, and the next thing I know, he’s throwing me over his shoulder and carrying me to the bedroom. Easton claps his big, rough hand over my ass, making me squirm in his arms. “You took too long to answer,” he says matter-of-factly. “Now you’re mine.”
We burst into the bedroom, and Easton tosses me down on the bed, making me giggle. “I don’t think that’s how it works,” I tease him, sitting up on the bed and raising an eyebrow in defiance.
Easton stares right at me and starts stripping down. I watch his every move as I take my own clothes off. Soon we’re both naked and staring at each other. I’ll never get used to this man’s perfect body. The muscles in his arms tense and tighten as he squeezes his hands into fists. My man is gloriously naked, with his massive cock growing right in front of my eyes. I lick my lips and then see a bead of precum form and drip down the head of his cock.
“Fine,” Easton says with a grin, stroking his huge dick. “But we’ve already established that I’m a stubborn man. I’ll just have to see if there are a few other ways I can get you to say yes.”
