HANNAH didn’t know what to say to ease Jonas’s pain. She didn’t even fully understand the desperation in him, but she saw he was at a breaking point and it shocked her. Jonas was a rock they all leaned on. Everyone. Every single person in Sea Haven. People up and down the coast. Deputies. Firemen. Jonas Harrington was the man to go to when there was trouble because he would find a way to get you out of it. For the first time, Hannah could see Jonas was in real trouble and not from a life-threatening wound.
‘I don’t understand what’s going on, Jonas. Make me understand.’
He closed his eyes, shutting out the sight of her, but there was no way to shut off his senses. She was everywhere, inside him, and there was no getting her out. ‘I’m just lost without you, Hannah.’ And God help him, it was true. He’d been falling for a long time, and dangerous job or not, she had to drag him back into the light, where he could breathe again. He opened his eyes and looked into hers and found himself trapped there.
Hannah knelt on the floor in front of him and framed his face with her hands. Her heart was pounding so hard she was afraid she was going to go into another panic attack. She was offering herself to him, and if he turned her down, there would be no recovering from the heartbreak. She would shatter. But finding a way to ease that look on his face, his eyes, that was all that mattered now—not her pride or her fear.
She leaned into him and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. He went very still, his breath hitching. She kissed the other corner, this time sliding her hand around to the nape of his neck to just hold him there. Hannah nibbled on his chin, his lower lip, pressed more kisses along his jaw.
Jonas made a single sound and his fingers tunneled in her hair, pulling back her head, his mouth fastening on hers. He simply took what she was offering and damn the consequences. He had to have her. He’d always known Hannah was the only one for him.
Every other woman paled for him beside her.
He could kiss her forever. The silken heat of her mouth and the sweet taste of her became a craving. Once, he’d thought if he kissed her, his need of her would go away, but now he knew kissing her forever was not going to be long enough. He kissed her again and again, leading her into deeper, much more erotic kisses. She followed willingly, kissing him back, her hands sliding under his shirt to touch his bare skin. His body jerked, hardened, shuddered with need, but he couldn’t stop kissing her, his mouth taking hers, tongue probing deep, wanting her sighs, needing her to kiss him back with the same building desire, so strong, so raw, it tore out his heart.
He had to taste her skin, and his mouth wandered from hers, just a little, following the contour of her face. He used his teeth, a small scrape, felt her answering reaction and continued down her long, beautiful throat. He’d fantasized about her throat right along with her mouth. There probably wasn’t a square inch of her he hadn’t fantasized about and he was going to explore every centimeter.
Her body trembled against his and he forced himself to pull back, breathing deeply, pressing his forehead against hers, keeping her close to him.
‘I’m afraid, Jonas,’ she admitted. ‘This could be a terrible mistake, one we can never take back.’
He went still inside. He couldn’t lose her now. He couldn’t. He was going to shatter into a million pieces if he lost her and he’d never recover—never find all the pieces and be able to put himself back together. Hell, he was already so unraveled, Hannah was his last hope. He needed her desperately.
‘I haven’t slept in four days, Hannah. To tell you the truth, not in weeks. I can’t stop my brain and I’m drowning.’ He wanted to shut up. It was pretty much guaranteed that whatever he said was going to scare her even more, but he couldn’t let go of her and he couldn’t take back the words. His hands were clamped around her arms, fingers pressing deep. Her mouth had slid him toward sweet oblivion until all he could think of was being deep inside her, of her body wrapped tightly around his.
He felt her gaze move over his face. Her heart beat so wildly he was afraid she’d hyperventilate again. Abruptly he stood, cementing the decision that had been made for both of them a long time ago. ‘How much time do you have before you leave for the airport?’
For a moment she couldn’t speak. The enormity of what she was doing hit her hard. She already knew it would be impossible for someone like her to live with him. If she did this, how would she face him day after day when he came to her house? How would she survive if he avoided her?
‘Jonas…’ She trailed off, standing close to his heat, wanting him with every cell in her body. ‘If we do this, there’s no going back. We won’t be able to pretend it didn’t happen.
If it doesn’t work out…’
His arm swept around her waist and he pulled her tight against him. He wasn’t about to let go of her. He’d waited more than half of his life for her. Now that she was really looking at him, now that her eyes were saying yes and her body was soft and pliant and molded against his, he wasn’t about to let her get away. And what the hell was he saying anyway? She’d always been his. Always. Throughout the years, when other men came near her, he’d warned them off immediately.
Jonas kept her locked against him, letting his body tell her what he needed. He’d had enough of words. He could say everything he needed to say to her with his hands—and his mouth—and all other parts of his anatomy.
Her body melted into his, but she still pulled her head back, the look in her eyes uncertain. ‘I don’t know anything at all about sex, Jonas.’
He grinned at her, laugh lines crinkling around his eyes. ‘I know enough to get us by, honey. You don’t have to worry on that score.’ He couldn’t help the hint of satisfaction in his tone at the thought that there’d been no other man. There was no other way to feel when he’d loved her since he’d first laid eyes on her and she threatened to turn him into a toad—frogs could be princes and he was no prince. ‘Sarah’s not due home tonight, is she?’
‘No. She and Damon are off somewhere, she’ll be back tomorrow evening.’
‘So we have the house to ourselves?’
She nodded and he was kissing her again, finding her perfect mouth with his and losing himself in the erotic heat of her. He buried his fingers deep in her mass of silken hair, taking two fistfuls, holding her close to him as he absorbed the texture of a long curl, all the while exploring and taking the kiss deeper and deeper. He wanted to live here, with her, in her magic and mystery forever.
He could sense her growing desire, but there was also fear, uncertainty. Jonas brought her up closer against his body and buried his face in her neck. ‘I need you, Hannah. I never thought I’d ever be man enough to admit that to you, but I do. I need you in my life.’
He was making her weak with his dominating mouth and the strength of his steely arms around her, but it was his words, low, wrenched from him, that stripped her of every defense. He needed her. Jonas, the strong one every person in Sea Haven depended on, needed her. In a way no man ever had. She felt the ripple of his muscles beneath his shirt and wanted to feel the texture of his skin. She wanted the heat of his body, and the feel of his hands moving over her, making her his. She wanted desperately to belong to Jonas Harrington.
Even if it was just for a night. She’d take that and the consequences be damned. Maybe in every other part of her life she was so screwed up, she didn’t know what she wanted, but this was different. This—him—she wanted with every fiber of her being. She always had.
He was part of her, so entwined with her life, her family, her very existence, that she couldn’t imagine a world without him beside her.
Hannah took a breath, let it out, and made the commitment. ‘I’ve never been with anyone else, Jonas. I’m not experienced like all your other women.’
His eyebrow shot up, a faint smile softening the hard edge to his mouth. ‘My other women? I don’t have other women. It’s been you and only you for a long time now.’
Years ago when Hannah had been so haughty and elusive and so beautiful it hurt to look at her, he’d tried to prove to himself he could get any woman he wanted. The problem was—once he got them—they weren’t Hannah and he didn’t want them. His ‘women’
had been a string of one-night stands, transient relationships filled with temporarily satisfying but ultimately empty sex, after which he’d always lain in bed, hard as a rock, and fantasized about Hannah. Yeah. He wasn’t proud of that, but he couldn’t go back and relive those days.
‘I’m just saying…’ She broke off, blushing.
‘Don’t worry, honey. I might want to strip you naked and take you fast and hard, but there’s a part of me that needs to just go slow and savor every single second I have with you.’ He pushed the hair from her neck and kissed her, gentle featherlight brushes of his lips, and then open-mouthed, his tongue swirling and his teeth finding intriguing little places to nip and taste.
He suddenly couldn’t take not being skin to skin, and if he was going to do this right, he’d have to be patient. He wanted to make memories she could never get away from. He swung her into his arms and took her up the stairs to her bedroom. He didn’t want her ever to crawl in her bed again without thinking about him—about them—and wishing for him.
He sat her, not on the bed, but on the top of the oak cabinet, wedging his body between her thighs. Bending, he tugged off her slippers, and let them drop to the floor. There was shy anxiety in her eyes, but he didn’t give her time to think, leaning forward, his palm cradling her nape while he seduced her mouth, his tongue gliding with moist heat, teeth tugging at her full lower lip.
Hannah was everything to him. She always had been. He had wanted her when she was too young even to consider taking her. And he had dreamt of her when he was far from home in Afghanistan and Colombia. He ached for her day and night. Since the moment he’d returned home, he’d been in a constant state of arousal, and there hadn’t been a damned thing he could do about it. Until now.
The moment he got close to her, he needed to touch her skin. No one had skin like Hannah. He stroked his hand down her face, savoring the feel of living silk, hot and so soft he wanted to sink into her forever. He reveled in the dark wonder of her mouth crushed beneath his.
‘You have no idea how badly I want you, Hannah.’ His hand shook as he slid his palm from her neck to her breast. At once her nipples peaked, hard and tight beneath his hand.
Her breath hitched as she moistened her lower lip with her tongue. She looked so frightened, so adorable, so achingly beautiful, her eyes enormous and scared, but wanting him. He could see that so clearly, in spite of her nerves.
‘Can you light some candles for us, baby?’ he asked, striving to put her at ease. ‘Just a few, something that smells good. I love it when you do that.’
He managed to get rid of his shoes while she turned her head to direct the flames. Six candles leapt to life, light flickering softly against the walls. She turned back to him as he was shrugging out of his shirt, revealing not only his heavy muscles, but the scars of the earlier bullet, two old knife wounds and the latest injuries.
Hannah made a small strangled sound of distress in her throat and her hands slid over his chest, teasing his flat nipples as she moved her palms toward the newest wounds. He hadn’t known his nipples could be so sensitive. It was as if she’d sent a bolt of lightning directly to the head of his cock. His body jerked and thickened more, straining at the material of his jeans. He dropped his hands to his waistband, opening the denim and shoving them from his hips. Warmth invaded his most recent injuries, tingling as Hannah’s hands manipulated healing energy.
He pushed the jeans from his hips and his cock sprung free, erect and hard and very thick.
Hannah’s gaze dropped lower and she blushed. He felt her tremble. He was larger than some, and maybe a little intimidating to a woman who had never had sex. He took a breath and fought down desire, so intense, so brutal it felt like a punch. With Hannah, it wasn’t all about sex, and that’s what was nearly killing him.
Love hurt. An old cliché, but he found it was true. It was a physical pain, not just the agonizing fist of lust centering in his groin, but the strain on his heart. He had given up on knowing real love. He had come to believe he couldn’t have Hannah, and she was the only woman who could bring warmth to that cold place in his heart—where part of him had lost all hope for humanity. Now she was bringing him back to life and his heart ached, a sharp, daggerlike pain that told him it wasn’t going to be easy loving her, having her, belonging to her. He would never be free of her. Never whole again without her.
Because there was fear in her eyes, he leaned forward again and captured her lips, kissing her gently, so tenderly. He worked at stealing her heart to replace the one she’d taken from him. The flickering light from the candles spilled over her, lending her satin skin a glow. Jonas pushed the neckline of her blouse down to blaze a trail of kisses to the creamy swell of her breast.
When his hands came up to undo the buttons, hers covered his, stopping him. He kissed her again. ‘It’s all right, baby. I know this is right, Hannah. Trust me.’ He wanted her to give her body over to him. Be his. Belong to him. Always and forever.
She swallowed and nodded, kissing him back, relaxing against him when he spent a few minutes indulging himself with the heat of her velvet mouth. She moaned softly and the sound went through his entire body. Her hands went to his shoulders, fingers digging into his muscle, as if anchoring herself, holding him tightly to her. He let the kiss deepen again, not wanting to lose her, his hands once more dropping to the buttons of her blouse.
Instantly her hands were there to stop his.
Even with his body raging at him, his brain managed to figure out the problem. He rested his brow against hers, breathing through the desire, turning his fists over to rub her straining nipples with his knuckles, despite the restraints she tried to put on him. ‘I’ve always loved your breasts, Hannah. I know that jackass, Simpson, made you self-conscious about them, but you’re perfect for me. I love the fact that you’re spilling over into my hands, so soft and inviting. Hell, baby, you’re so damned sexy I’m going to have an embarrassing accident if you don’t let me touch you. I have to touch you. It’s beyond wanting now.’
Her eyes searched his and she must have seen the raw hunger blazing in his gaze. She swallowed and nodded, but kept her hands over his, just lightening her grip.
Jonas was careful with her. She was so thin, so fragile. He could feel her ribs and her hip bones, her tiny tucked-in waist, but her breasts had refused to lose their curves even when she all but starved herself at her agent’s demand. They were full and soft and generous and Hannah tried to hide them from the world.
He slowly undid the buttons, feeling as if it was Christmas morning and he was unwrapping the gift he’d waited his entire life for. His fingers brushed sensitive, creamy skin, making her shiver as the material parted and gaped open to reveal her full, lush breasts. His breath caught and held in his lungs.
‘God, baby, you’re beautiful. I couldn’t even fantasize this and I’ve got a good imagination when it comes to you.’ He pushed her blouse from her shoulders, letting the material float to the ground as he unhooked her bra. Before she could protest, he captured her mouth again, drawing her tongue into the dark recesses of his mouth, his hands shaping her breasts possessively, stroking the nipples with his thumbs.
‘I’ve got to have you on the bed, where I can look at you and feel you next to me.’ He didn’t want to take a chance on freaking her out when she was so shy about her body.
Who would have ever thought that someone as beautiful as Hannah could have such a poor and inaccurate image of her own body?
He was shaking as he lifted her and carried her to the bed, following her down, watching her hair spill across the pillow, her breasts thrust invitingly toward his mouth. Her skin gleamed a luminous cream in the candlelight. His heart thudded in his chest, and his body reacted with another painful jerking and thickening. She was like a fever in his system, burning so hot he was afraid if he didn’t have her, he might spontaneously combust, but if she said no, if she was too frightened, he would stop. He’d spend the next five years in a freaking ice shower, but he’d stop. Love did that to a man.
He knelt on the bed, hands tracing the satin skin, cupping her breasts, tracing her ribs and finding the low-riding jeans. ‘Lift up for me, sweetheart.’
Her gaze locked with his; she did what he said and allowed him to slide her jeans and underwear from her too-slender hips, down her long, glorious legs. He tossed the clothing aside and lowered himself over her, blanketing her nude body with his, inch by slow devastating inch, until they were skin to skin. She was hot and so damned soft he thought his body would sink—would melt—right into hers.
She gave another breathy little moan that shook him right to his toes. Jonas gave in to temptation. She was offering him heaven, and he wanted her, wanted her to belong to him body and soul. She was inexperienced and he was… well… he knew exactly what he was doing.
He kissed her over and over, drowning in her taste, wondering if she tasted so sweet all over. Her skin held a fragrance that was addicting to him and he took his time, licking and nibbling over her chin and throat, down to her breasts. Her breath hitched when he blew warm air over her nipples. She shuddered when his tongue swirled and teased, flicking the hard peaks before his mouth closed over the inviting temptation.
Hannah gasped, her body arching, her breasts sensitive, the sensations clearly shocking her as he suckled, his mouth hot, teeth scraping over her skin, tugging on her nipple. Her breathing became labored, her breasts rising and falling rapidly. He lifted his head to look down at the feast, inhaling her scent and noting with satisfaction the marks of his possession. Her skin was sensitive and marked easily, small strawberry bites that only added to the rush of lust building past anything he’d ever known.
He licked at her nipples, watching her face, the dark flush spreading, her eyes glazing. He let his hand trail lower, feeling her muscles contract in her belly, and then bunch beneath his palm.
‘Jonas,’ she whispered, in protest maybe, but he lowered his head again, taking her nipple between his teeth and rolling and tugging gently, his tongue rasping over the tip until she gasped and her hips lifted for him. He slid his hand up and between her thighs to the welcoming dampness. His heart lurched in his chest. His cock jerked hard, swelling until he thought he’d burst.
His eyes met hers. She looked so dazed and stunned and so absolutely sexy lying there with her fingers tangled in his hair, shy trust mingled with shock on her face. He cupped her mound, so hot his palm felt scorched as he licked her other nipple, keeping her gaze locked with his. Her head thrashed on the pillow.
He slid his finger inside the creamy heat and she cried out his name, her tight sheath clamping down on him as her muscles protested the invasion.
‘It’s all right, baby,’ he soothed her. ‘I’ve wanted you for so long I think I’m just going to have to take my time eating you up like candy. You’ll like it, honey, I promise.’ He kissed her belly. ‘You have to trust me, just relax for me.’
Hannah stared at his face, stamped deep with dark sensuality, his eyes just as dark with hunger and focused intent. Her fingers bit into the muscles bulging in his shoulders as she braced herself for the sensations rocking her body. She was lost in a storm of pleasure washing over her like a tidal wave. She needed him—needed something—the force building inside her like a hurricane. She was trembling and couldn’t stop. Small whimpers escaped and she couldn’t stop that either.
His mouth moved over her belly, tongue teasing her navel, teeth nipping, his hair dragging over sensitive skin. She gasped again, nearly coming off the bed when his hands parted her thighs. She watched his head dip lower and lower, below her hips, and she froze, unable to think. Only her body reacted.
‘Jonas?’ She couldn’t lie still. Her lungs burned, starved for air, and she swore the junction between her legs was on fire.
‘I’ve waited a lifetime for this, baby, just give me a minute here. I need this.’ His voice was edgy with dark hunger. ‘You’re mine now, Hannah. And your body is mine.’ To worship. To play. To use. To love. He was a starving man, addicted before he ever had a taste.
His hands lifted her hips even as he lowered his head and his tongue took a long, slow swipe of her soft flesh. She moaned and then her breath stilled in her lungs and time ceased to exist as he began to do exactly as he promised—eat her like candy. His tongue pushed deep into her center, sending streaks of lightning zigzagging through her body.
Involuntarily her hands fisted in the covers and her head thrashed back and forth wildly.
He stroked and nipped, stabbed deep and drew moisture. He feasted and devoured.
Her body drew tighter and tighter, a fist of sensitive muscles bursting into life as his tongue licked and stroked and sucked. Deep inside, every hidden secret, every intimate reaction, was uncovered. He made her blind with pleasure, made her crazy, the fire raging so hot and so out of control she didn’t know who she was. She heard herself, crying, begging, as he pushed her higher and higher.
‘I can’t control…’ She needed to stop, to catch her breath. The pressure continued relentlessly, building through her body. She felt like she was on the verge of coming apart. His arms felt like bands of steel, holding her down, while his mouth found her clit and suckled. She screamed as her body seemed to fly up and shatter. Just shatter. She twisted and rocked, unable to think, unable to know if she was fighting him, or pleading with him for more.
The sensations were terrifying, wave after wave, as his mouth pushed her up and into a second orgasm. Even as she screamed again, he rose up and over her, pulling her thighs apart. He looked so sensual—so ravenous.
‘I can’t, Jonas. It’s too much.’
‘Yes, Hannah. It’s what you want, what I want. Trust me to take you there and bring you back. Let me take you all the way.’
She wasn’t going to survive if there was any more pleasure. She would shatter into a million pieces and there’d be no putting her back together, but he looked sinfully sexy and she wanted whatever he could give, no matter how afraid she got. She swallowed fear, her gaze cringing to his. ‘I’m afraid of myself, not you, Jonas.’
‘I know, baby. You’re doing fine. I’m not going to stop and let you catch your breath this time. I’m going to take you right over the edge with me.’
His breathing was harsh, his teeth clenched, and then he moved. She felt the thick head of his erection pressing tightly against her entrance, now hot and slick with cream he’d drawn from her body. Then he was stretching her, the sensation nearly a burn as he pressed deep, driving through tight folds, forcing her muscles to accommodate him. He felt thick, too big, impossible to take inside her, and then he thrust hard and deep, tearing past the thin barrier, mingling pain with pleasure as the bundle of sensitive nerve endings screamed with need. He destroyed her control with that one hard thrust, and then began to take her out of reality and into mindless ecstasy.
Jonas tried to regain some semblance of control, but her body gripped his like a tight velvet fist, hot enough to scorch. He braced himself with a hand on either side of her shoulders, his body blanketing hers, and bent his head. His mouth took hers as he began a driving rhythm through the inner muscles so tight and reluctant, seizing him as he plunged deeper and deeper. She gasped, her hips bucking to meet each thrust. The powerful strokes drove her higher, closer to the release he wanted to give her, yet he kept her from getting there, forcing her to go all the way with him.
He tore his mouth from hers, breathing deeply, pistoning harder, feeling her muscles heating, melting into living silk, pulsing with life around him. She thrashed harder under him, somewhere between fighting him and yanking him closer. She murmured something, a small cry of alarm, her nails biting deep.
Hannah was unprepared for the painful pleasure racking her body, the pressure building and building until she fought for breath. Each hard thrust sent her reeling and the edges of her vision blurred. Above her, Jonas looked the epitome of carnal sin, his hair damp, his face etched in lines of passion, his breath ragged as his body rode hers harder and deeper, so deep and hot she wanted—no, needed—to come apart.
He dragged her legs over his arms, his hips thrust even deeper so that her muscles pulsed around him, clasping him tightly, squeezing down until he uttered a hoarse cry and the world around her went black and then filled with colors. The explosion ripped through her body, a storm of such intensity she couldn’t even cry out anymore. Multiple orgasms tore through her, one right after the other, swelling in strength, her body spasming around his.
Jonas couldn’t hold on with her body rippling and pulsing around him like a hot, silken fist. His release came harsh and violent, unrelenting pleasure roaring up from his toes and pouring down from his head to center in his groin. Pulse after hot pulse jetting deep inside her, filling her, adding to the waves of her climax so that she clamped down hard on him, sending another shaft of lightning whipping through him. He collapsed over the top of her, his breathing ragged, his lungs burning and his body shaking. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and tried to calm the pounding of his heart. Nothing had ever been that good.
Jonas reluctantly withdrew and rolled off her, tugging the blanket around her. Hannah lay limply beside him, her eyes dazed, her slender body slack, but his hand on her abdomen confirmed the aftershocks still rippling through her. ‘Are you all right, baby?’
‘I don’t know.’ Her fingers found his. ‘Am I?’
He grinned. ‘Oh, yeah, baby. You’re so fine they need to find a new word to describe you.’
‘That was a little scary.’ He’d taken her over. There was no going back. She’d think about him, his mouth, his hands, his body, every time she lay on her bed. Her body sang for him, came apart for him. ‘I wasn’t aware I’d been missing anything so spectacular.’
Jonas frowned and rolled over, his arm settling around her waist. ‘Just remember who you belong to, Hannah. I wouldn’t want to have to shoot anyone—or strangle you.’
She leaned over to kiss his shoulder. ‘Why am I the one to be strangled?’
‘It’s a much more personal death.’
‘You’ve been a cop too long.’ She dragged the blanket up higher to cover her breasts. ‘I can’t move.’
‘You don’t have to move. Just go to sleep. When we wake up, I’ll show you some other very intriguing things we can do.’
‘There’s more? There can’t be more.’ She yawned and snuggled closer to him. ‘I have to catch a plane in the morning, Jonas. You know it’s a four-hour drive to the airport.’
‘Take a later one.’
‘Mmm. Maybe.’ She could barely speak, let alone move, and the thought of a four-hour drive and an additional plane ride to the East Coast was daunting. And she needed a hot bath to soothe her sore body. ‘I think you beat me up.’
Instantly he shifted, his arm going around her hips, his hand pushing the blanket from her body to inspect her. ‘I got a little carried away, Hannah. I should have been much more gentle your first time. Hang on, baby, I’ll run you a bath.’ There were marks on her thighs, on her breasts and even on her belly. ‘And I’d better shave. You have whisker burn on your face.’
And on the inside of her thighs, but she wasn’t mentioning that.
‘I’m not certain I can actually take a bath right now,’ she admitted. ‘Let’s just lie here and count the stars.’ She waved her hand and the candles flickered out. A second wave had the French doors opening to let the night in.
At once a breeze cooled her body and Jonas tugged her closer to keep her warm. It was amazing to feel at peace. For his body to be at rest. She belonged to him. She’d given herself to him and Hannah didn’t ever do things by half-measure. She’d been frightened, but his loss of control hadn’t driven her away. She’d accepted his physical needs the way she accepted his temper and arrogance.
He slipped his hand beneath the blanket and let his palm, fingers splayed wide, drift possessively over her body. His. He tasted her in his mouth, breathed her in his lungs, had spent time inside her hot silken sheath. If there were miracles, he was living one. She didn’t protest his touch, but turned her head toward him, her gaze locking with his. He held her with his eyes, not wanting her to look away while he explored every square inch of incredible skin. Warm and soft like nothing else he’d ever experienced.
‘I love that you’re mine,’ he whispered and nuzzled the blanket from her breasts so he could enjoy the sight.
Deliberately he allowed his hand to move lower. He felt her stomach muscles clench as his fingers skimmed over her. She tensed when he cupped her mound so he rested his hand there, letting her get used to the feel of his possession. He wanted to touch her like this whenever he wanted. He wanted her open to him, loving him, giving herself to him, and more than anything, he wanted her to feel the same way back.
There was no ‘if’ they were together. They were. He’d made that clear before making love to her, and he wanted her to realize he was a physical man. There would be touching—lots of it. Her curves, her body, belonged to him and his to her. It wasn’t about groping her—it was about loving her. He needed her to feel the difference.
Her nipples had peaked in the cool night air and he bent his head to run his tongue over one of them. He felt the instant answering flood of warm liquid against his palm and he slid one finger inside her. She was as tight as ever, her muscles clenching, the hot silk ready for him. He rubbed his head against her soft skin, blinking back emotion that threatened to spill over.
Hannah was completely, utterly, relaxed under his hand and she never made a single move to reject his advances. She might be a little nervous, but she was open to whatever he chose to do. He chose to kiss her. He loved her mouth. He reveled in the taste of her, the response he drew from her.
When he lifted his head, she wrapped her arms around him and drew him back down beside her. ‘Go to sleep, Jonas. Right here, with me.’
He rolled over, pulling her on top of him so that her warm body was sprawled across his.
He wrapped her up with one arm and drew the blanket over both of them. ‘Like this, Hannah. Close, like this.’ His arm circled her waist and she snuggled into him, fitting her body over his, breasts pressed tightly against his skin, her head on his pillow.
Jonas fell asleep with his hand cupping her butt. Hannah lay on top of him, listening to his breathing, hyperaware of his hand. Her body still tingled, still sang. For a short time, when he was inside her, she had known exactly where she wanted to be. She loved his touch. He scared the hell out of her by forcing her to go far beyond where she ever thought she could, but she trusted Jonas with her body and had given him everything he’d demanded.
That was so Jonas. She stroked his hair with small caresses. He was demanding. He always would be. But sometimes, he was so vulnerable and she realized she had power in the relationship as well. She hadn’t expected that. He was as vulnerable to her as she was to him. He just acted arrogant and bossy, but deep down, where it counted, he didn’t want to lose her either.
She had to go to New York, the contract had been signed a year ago, but then she’d tell Jonas the truth. She had already informed her agent she was getting out of the business.
She hadn’t taken any new jobs in months and was simply going to fulfill the contracts she’d signed and then she’d live in Sea Haven and hopefully be with Jonas and start a whole new life.
