Drake Sisters 05 - Safe Harbor

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