[Magic Sisters 05] - Safe Harbor

by Christine Feehan

  She was good at following instructions—too good. He would whisper hoarsely—sometime crudely—and she would find the exact spot, the right suction, her tongue so devilish he was sure she would destroy him with pure mind-numbing pleasure. She watched him, looking for signals from him, to see what tightened his body, made his temperature soar and the muscles contract. When she sucked hard, her mouth a silken trap of molten heat, she turned him into a lust-filled maniac, guttural growls rumbling from his throat, and when she flattened her tongue and slid it under the flared sensitive tip, rubbing hard, hitting the spot that sent him into orbit, he couldn't stop the rough cry torn from his throat or the automatic thrust of his hips to deepen his stroke.

  She nearly pulled away, but he held her with both hands.

  "That's it, Hannah. Deeper, take me a little deeper, relax your throat for me, baby." Another hoarse cry escaped as she obeyed him, her throat closing around him, squeezing hot, living flesh to the exploding point.

  The savage intensity burning in his eyes would have been encouragement enough, but her own body had gone into meltdown. Pleasing him was an aphrodisiac in itself. She could feel fire racing through her bloodstream and flames over her skin, her body burning with incredible need. Deep inside, her body was already melting, rippling and fiercely needy. She wanted more from him, all of him. She kept her eyes locked with his and deliberately drew him nearly out of her mouth, so that he shuddered, his chest rising and falling, his eyes a glittering blue. He trembled. His hands tightened in her hair, locking on her head as if he needed an anchor. Then she took him deep, nearly swallowing him, her mouth deliberately tight and so hot she knew she was melting him. He was pulsing now, his flesh a steel rod. Harsh lines etched into his face as he gasped for air and struggled for control.

  Jonas threw his head back and fought to keep from ravaging her soft, hot mouth. No woman had ever driven him to the very edge as Hannah was doing, untutored, inexperienced, but so willing to please him. The joy on her face, the desire, the sheer sensual image ripped through him, a torrent of need rushing through with a destructive force. "Harder, baby, give me more."

  He could feel his body swell. And he could feel his hands in her hair, controlling her head, her movements taking over when he wanted the control to be all hers. It was just so good, so perfect. A moment in time he would never forget.

  He was burning alive, so far gone, he was thrusting helplessly into her mouth, quick and hard and deeper than he should have been going. She choked. Coughed. Brought him to his senses. His hands stilled her head and he forced his body to quit bucking. "I'm sorry, Hannah, you're making me crazy and I'm out of control."

  He closed his eyes when her tongue curled around him.

  "I want you crazy and out of control."

  He shook his head. "We'll save the rest for another day."

  Because if they didn't, Hannah was going to learn about love mixed with lust in one catastrophic explosion. "Come up here. Straddle me, honey. I can already feel how ready you are for me, hot and wet and so damned perfect. Come here."

  She started to move, sliding up his body, her breasts leaving twin streaks of fire where her nipples dragged over him. For the first time she hesitated. He saw her gaze shift from him to her surroundings. The glazed excitement glittering in her eyes faded, and one hand went up to her face and dropped to her breasts.

  It was morning. She'd been so wrapped up in him she hadn't really noticed the daylight. Satisfaction curved his mouth and settled in his stomach. He could make her forget to hide herself with his hands and mouth and body.

  Jonas reached down and framed her face with his hands. "I have to see you, just for a moment. I love your breasts, so soft, baby, so perfect for me. I spent half the night waking you up by sucking on them." He rubbed at a strawberry mark he'd put on one creamy mound. "That's mine. You're mine. And I love you more than life."

  "But the scars, Jonas." It was hard to think of anything but the pulsing desire hot between her legs where she was achingly empty and desperate to be filled. And his gaze was burning over her, so possessive, that she nearly climaxed from the look on his face.

  "Did you hear me, Hannah? I have to see you. Sit up for me, straddle me. Let me have you." He put just the edge of command in his voice, rough with need, dominating with desire.

  She moistened her lips, took a breath and then slowly complied. Hannah straddled him, shaking her hair back so it was wild, framing her face in shimmering spirals of gold and platinum, as she sat up with languid grace. She looked a sultry temptress with her perfect breasts and her glowing skin.

  There was a moment of silence followed by the sound of the harsh rasp of his breath. She covered her breasts with her hands, an automatic gesture, but he captured her wrists and pulled them down, holding her there so he could look his fill. "Stay like that for me, honey. I just need to… I just need."

  Releasing her, Jonas slid his palms up her flat stomach, traced her ribs and came up under her breasts, cupping the soft offerings in his hands. His thumbs slid across her nipples and he felt her answering shiver, the rush of heat and moisture as she shifted slightly. He loved watching her face as he leaned forward. The nerves. The arousal. The anticipation. She was so responsive to him. Her nipples tightened before he even got there and he felt the wash of hot liquid on his belly where she straddled him. His cock rested against her soft buttocks, pressing eagerly, wanting to drive home.

  He drew one breast in his mouth and caught the other nipple in his fingers, tugging and flicking while he suckled her. She gave a little gasping cry, her body trembling as she pushed closer to him. He took his time, not giving in to the urgent demands of either of their bodies, forcing her to climb higher, licking and sucking, teeth scraping and tongue flicking, tormenting her until she was writhing, her body pulsing sensually. Her stomach muscles bunched into knots. The junction at her legs grew hotter than anything he'd experienced, wet and ready for him. And she wasn't thinking about anything but Jonas—he was certain of that.

  He bit down gently, forcing her once more out of her comfort zone and into another realm, the little bites causing flares of heat and arrows of darting pleasure snaking hungrily through her body. Her thighs tightened around him and her hips began a helpless bucking.

  He caught her around the waist and lifted her. "Slow this time, Hannah. Slide down slow and ride me." He refused to let her impale herself hard and fast as she wanted to—drawing out the pleasure, forcing her to go slow.

  "Jonas. Please."

  The soft pleading filled his already full cock with pounding hot blood. He felt every silken muscle as he pushed with torturous slowness into her fiery folds. She was so tight she had him gasping, the shock waves riding his body, ripping through him, demanding release, but he held her hips, lifting her with exquisite care and moving in her with an almost languid pace until she was sobbing his name, begging him for more.

  "Tell me what you want, baby," he whispered. "You like this, I know you do. You want something else?"

  Oh, God. She needed. Needed him wild. Slamming into her, pounding into her until he drove her up and over the edge. She needed release and each slow stroke sent whips of lightning streaking through her body, every nerve ending singed and scorched and desperate for more. "Please, Jonas, I can't take any more. I can't." Because she might go up in flames before she had a chance to actually shatter. Or she'd shatter before she went up in flames. Either way, she had to have release.

  Without warning, he rolled them over, sliding her under him, easily, smoothly, dragging her legs over his shoulders, hands on her hips to hold her still. The first thrust was a streak of sheer fire, his cock steel hard, ramming through her swollen, sensitive folds, driving deep, so deep she was afraid he would land in her womb. She heard herself scream, a ragged gasping cry, but he was already withdrawing and slamming home again.

  There was no way to control the pleasure, she felt insane with it, giving herself up to it as he pumped into her body with hard, desperate strok
es. He pushed her knees back, pulling her hips closer under him, giving him a better angle to go even deeper, driving over knots of nerves screaming with fiery sensations. She writhed under him, her hips bucking, her head thrashing, her muscles tightening around him, gripping him hard.

  He whispered against her neck, his mouth skimming down her soft skin, his voice a rough rasp that washed more heat over her. The tension in her built and built, and still he drove into her, taking her on an endless flight. She thrashed, nails biting deep into his shoulder, her small cries turning frantic. He was relentless, driving her up but never over, bringing her to the edge until she was clawing at him, pleading again.

  Jonas could barely hold on with her sheath pulsing around him, so tight and so slick, he felt he was moving in a fiery bed of silk. She was strangling him, so hot he was melting, but he wouldn't stop, wouldn't take her over until she knew—until she was certain.

  "Who do you…" He gasped. Clenched his teeth as her body clamped down on his. "Belong to? Say it, Hannah. Tell me you're mine."

  "Jonas." His name came out a wail. She tried to lift her hips to meet his, but his hands held her tightly, keeping her pinned while his body tortured hers with pleasure. "You. You idiot. There's never been anyone else." Her hand curled around his neck. "Oh, please, Jonas, I don't think I'm going to survive."

  The sheer lust in her voice, the pleading cries, drove him so far past control he couldn't have held back if he wanted to. He shifted subtly, the movement rocking her, as his cock filled her, burying deep, swelling, the friction increasing to the point that she simply fragmented, her body coming apart under him. His own body jerked hard, the pleasure bordering on pain as he washed her in his release. Still her muscles wouldn't let go, wouldn't stop clasping him, wringing the last drop from him.

  He collapsed over her, burying his face in her neck, his hands finding hers and holding them to the mattress on either side of her head.

  "I love you, Hannah. I'm not going to be able to come home at night without having you in my bed." He rubbed his face over her breasts, nuzzled a nipple and drew it into his mouth, feeling her body spasm around his. He licked, watching her face, watching the pleasure wash over her. "I want this. I want you. It's been so damn long, baby, empty nights without you, long years waiting to have you. I don't want to wait any longer."

  It was difficult to think clearly when his body was so deep in hers and his mouth was on her breast, sending streaks of fire from her nipples to her groin. She would give him anything, do anything. He had to know that. Why didn't he know that?

  "I want to be with you, too, Jonas. Everything is mixed up right now, but…"

  "There isn't going to be a 'but,' Hannah." Jonas sucked at the tender mound at the curve, just above her nipple.

  "What are you doing?" She tried to lift her head to see, but he was holding her down and her body was too relaxed to move. More than anything she didn't want to dislodge him, loving the feel of him buried inside her. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "You'd better not be putting another mark on me."

  He kissed her lips, spearing his tongue into her mouth. "I hate to be the one to tell you, baby, but you have marks all over you. My fingerprints and my mouth are on the inside of your thighs as well as on your breasts, and your belly." He kissed her again. "Mine."

  "You're so possessive." She kissed him back. Bit his lower lip. "I left a few marks of my own, to show who you belong to."

  He flashed a small grin and rolled off her onto his back, retaining possession of her hand. He brought it to his mouth and nibbled at her fingertips. "I don't want a big fancy wedding like your sisters are planning. I want to do it fast, right away, without the newspapers and magazines hanging around."

  She turned her head to look at him, her heart pounding hard. "You think I'm going to marry you?"

  "Damn straight you are. I'm not some little play toy, Hannah."

  She burst out laughing at his arrogant tone. "And here I thought I was going to have so much fun." She leaned over and nipped his earlobe. "Most men ask."

  "You'd just say no. You already did say no."

  "I did not. I said later; that's not the same thing." She rolled onto her side and pushed her fingers through his hair. "When I came here to your house and played dress-up, your mother and I talked about weddings. Little girls love weddings and I was no exception. She said, if you ever got married, she'd have it here, at this house, and everyone would come dressed like the 1920s. She'd have a speakeasy dance hall for the reception in your ballroom. She showed me the flapper clothes and then we got dressed up and had tea. We should do that."

  His heart nearly stopped. "Have the wedding here?"

  "Wouldn't you like that? Dress like she wanted and have the ceremony here? It would be such fun. Joley would love it."

  "I would, too, but would you?" His eyes searched hers.

  She smiled. "Absolutely. I think it sounds perfect." She grinned at him. "If we're going to get married, I mean."

  He kissed her nose. "Oh, we're getting married, baby. You don't want ten kids running around without my ring on your finger. Your father would make you a widow before you ever became a wife."

  She laughed and rolled over, wincing. "Wow! I guess I am sore. I must be out of shape."

  "I don't know, Hannah, you outlasted me. Come on. I'm going to run you a bath." He jumped up, uncaring that he was naked, went into the connecting bathroom and turned on the faucet. He stuck his head out the door when she didn't move. "You coming?"

  "No. I can't walk. I'm going to stay right here all day." She pulled the sheet over her.

  "No, baby, you need to soak in a tub, you really won't be able to walk. As it is, you're going to be sore. I don't have any bath salts, or crystals or whatever it is you girls all use, but I lit some of the candles Sarah gave me last Christmas. Don't tell her I said this, but they're soothing."

  She laughed. "You're so funny, Jonas, not wanting to admit candles and crystals have healing powers." She rolled onto her side and propped her head in one hand, elbow on the mattress, studying him. He was completely at ease in his nudity.

  "I admit it. It's just that you all think I need those things for protection." He glanced into the bathroom to check the water level in the tub.

  "You do need them, silly. In our own way, we try to shield you the way you do us. You matter to all of us…"

  He swung around. "You're mine, Hannah. It's no longer a family thing." There was finality in his voice.

  Hannah frowned. He'd always enjoyed the relationship he had with the Drake sisters. He knew he was family to them. He loved them. She couldn't imagine why what she'd said would irritate him. "What's this sudden driving need to establish dominance, Jonas? What's wrong?"

  He sighed. "Come here." He crooked his little finger at her.

  Hannah rose, wrapping herself in the sheet, trying not to be annoyed that he always made everything sound like an order. "I'm here. Tell me what's wrong."

  "Lose the sheet first."

  Just like that, as tired and as sore as she was, her body responded. Her breasts tightened, her womb clenched and a frisson of excitement skittered down her spine. "I want you, Jonas, I swear I do, but I think if you make love to me again, you'll kill me."

  A reluctant grin curved his mouth. "It would be a nice way to go, locked to you forever. Inside of you. Deep. Right where I belong." He tugged at the sheet.

  Hannah let it drop to the floor.

  "I like looking at you. Don't hide from me." He caught her chin and leaned down to kiss her. "Not me. Not ever."

  "Jonas…"

  He simply picked her up, carried her to the bath and set her in the steamy water.

  "I can't go home with that skirt and blouse and nothing else." The water felt so good. She could just stay there all day, forget the bed. She rested her head against the lip of the tub.

  "I'll find you an old pair of my jeans and a shirt. I have to have something around here that will fit you."

  "You didn't
tell me what's bothering you."

  He stood watching her, his expression grim. "You didn't say you loved me, Hannah. I know you want me, but you didn't say you loved me."

  "I said it a million ways. Do you think I'd let another man touch me the way you did? Or put his mouth on me? His tongue in me? Jonas, don't be an idiot. If you know me at all, you'd never doubt for one moment that I love you with everything in me. And I have told you before. On the beach I told you."

  "That isn't the same as when we're making love. I told you a dozen times last night. You never said it."

  "I thought I was saying it, over and over." She hid a smile. Jonas was so big and bad, but underneath it, he was as vulnerable as she was. "I love you, Jonas Harrington. And I trust you not to forget it."

  He grinned at her, that same cocky, satisfied grin he often wore, the one that always made her heart melt. "Have your bath, baby. I'll be back with some clothes for you in a sec."

  Jonas rarely threw anything away and he rummaged through his drawers in the hopes of finding clothes small enough for her. Tucked away in a box in his closet, he found a pair of jeans from years earlier. He thumbed through the shirts and found his favorite old plaid. As he started out of the room, he glanced at the dresser. The pictures he kept there were all facedown. He'd bumped it when he'd gotten a little wild with Hannah. Smiling, he lifted the middle one and set it upright.

  It was one of his favorites of Hannah, with the sun shining on her hair and a dreamy expression on her face. He kissed his fingertips and brushed it across the glass just as the phone rang.

  "I'm tossing the clothes in, Hannah."

  "Don't throw them in the water!" Hannah stood up to catch the jeans and shirt as they sailed into the bathroom.