Free Safe Harbor by Christine Feehan Page B

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,