“Hannah?” He said again, his voice rough.
“I was trying to come up with something clever,” she said, tears filling her eyes as worry furrowed his brow. She took a deep breath and spoke the most truth she’d ever spoken to anyone, throwing away her fear of rejection. “Thank you for today. Thank you for this dress,” she said, trying not to be alarmed that his eyes glimmered with emotion she’d never seen before. Do it, Hannah. Say it.
“Thank you for making me feel special.” She breathed in a huge gulp of air, trying not to cry. She wasn’t going to hide from him, she thought, lifting her trembling chin. This one man had made her feel more important, and more cherished, than anyone she’d ever known.
…
Jackson stopped breathing because suddenly there was no air in the room. All he needed to breathe was her. His chest throbbed with an unfamiliar, all consuming ache. Damn, she had the power to bring him to his knees. She took away all the blame he imposed on himself, and healed him. She saw something in him that made him feel good, and he thanked a God he hadn’t spoken to in decades for her.
Jackson took her soft face in his hands, because he was incapable of not touching her. He refused to hide his feelings anymore, he needed her, and he was sure that in her own way she needed him. He had told himself that he wouldn’t touch her tonight. He’d wait for her to come to him, but her words, her candor shook him to the core.
“Thank you.” He paused, her eyes not leaving his, her body tense. “Thank you for banging down my door, for saving me and Emily.” Her soft skin was cradled in his hands and he knew there would be no going back tonight. He read the desire on her face, in the rise and fall of her chest, and knew she wanted him as badly as he wanted her. “You make me want to believe, Hannah. In all of it.” He took her mouth with his.
“I trust you, Jackson.” Her words sent the blood pumping through his body even faster. She opened her mouth, her tongue greeting him instantly, and he groaned with her sweet surrender. She molded herself to him and it felt as though hers was the only body he’d ever known. He felt her hands at the nape of his neck, and then lower, touching his chest, his arms.
…
Hannah felt him suck in his breath as her hands skimmed over him, loving the feel of him, the ripple of muscle. He groaned deep in his throat and picked her up, her legs straddling him in a way that made her wonder how she was capable of doing this and not being afraid. But he made her forget all thought, all memories. He made her feel. As his lips worshipped her skin, her mouth, her lips, and as his strong hands worshipped her body, the only thoughts were of pure, sweet need. She needed Jackson, needed to be with him, to have him fill that void that had been missing her entire life.
“Jackson,” she said. His hand cupped her breast. He didn’t answer, just made a throaty sound while his thumb grazed her nipple. And when she gasped against his mouth with pure delight, he cupped her bottom, lifted her higher against him, and dipped his head to make love to her nipple through the dress.
“Oh,” she moaned out loud, not even realizing she spoke and clutched his shoulders. She heard him curse and the next thing she knew she was in his arms, his mouth still locked onto hers and he carried her into a large bedroom lit by the glow of the skyline. He placed her on the bed, and Hannah reached out to pull him down to her, unable to bear any distance between them. She’d spent her life not knowing of his existence and now the tiniest of seconds without him was torture.
He slid her dress off. She fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. He unhooked her ivory lace bra and lowered his body onto hers. Hannah thought she’d never felt anything so erotic as his powerful chest against hers, until he bent his head and captured her nipple in his mouth, licking and sucking until all she could do was whimper his name, arching her back off the bed, needing more.
“God, you are so beautiful, Hannah,” he said, his lips trailing kisses and words of praise down her hot skin. She gasped. He kissed her at the top of her underpants, watching her. She nodded and he gave a low moan, wriggling out of her underwear, until she was completely naked before him. She didn’t feel an ounce of fear. With him she was safe. His touch caressed her, telling her with his hands and with kisses how much he desired her, how much he cared for her, when he couldn’t utter the words. And when she tugged at his pants and he was naked on top of her, all she could think of was him entering her, filling her with himself, healing her, loving her.
“In all my life, I’ve never seen or tasted anything as beautiful as you,” he said in a low growl, licking and kissing his way down her body. All she could do was clasp his head to her and pray he never stopped. She didn’t realize that she’d said that aloud until she heard his muffled laugh.