Like she was finally letting herself believe he was still hers.
Her own sweater joined the pile on the floor, and Jake pulled her against him, skin to skin.
God, he'd missed this. Missed her.
The soft curves of her, the places where he knew she was sensitive, the way her breath hitched when he traced his fingers along her ribs, just beneath her breast.
"You're so damn beautiful," he murmured, voice thick.
Her lips parted, her pulse fluttering beneath his touch.
Jake took her hand in his, bringing it to his chest, right over his heart. "This has only ever belonged to you."
Something cracked open in her expression, something raw and vulnerable.
Then they were kissing him again—fiercer this time, hungrier, like she needed to devour the words instead of hearing them.
Jake kissed his way down her neck, tracing the places he knew made her gasp, the places that made her arch, made her surrender.
Her hands moved to return the favor, but he caught them, stilling her.
"Let me do this for you," he whispered against her skin.
Hannah sucked in a breath, her fingers twitching against his. But then—she let go.
She let him take control.
Let him worship her.
And Jake did exactly that.
She was finally in his bed. He took his time, learning her all over again, pressing kisses to the delicate hollow of her throat, the curve of her breast, the softness of her stomach.
Her breath hitched when his lips skimmed lower, her fingers tightening in the sheets as he took her apart, piece by piece.
Her taste, her shuddering gasps, the way she begged for more, for him—it was a kind of heaven he had no right to claim, but one he would never, ever take for granted again.
When his bandaged hand fumbled with the condom, she was there, steady and certain, fingers deft as she tore the packet open, rolling it down over him with a touch so sure it made him shudder. Her other hand curled around his wrist, pulling him impatiently, desperately, needfully until he was pressed against her, his body covering hers, fitting perfectly into the space that had always belonged to him.
His hardness found her—warm and wet and soft—and she gasped, thighs tightening around his hips, her breath stuttering as she arched beneath him.
Jake groaned, his jaw clenched, barely holding on.
God, she felt so good, so right—like coming home, like belonging. The tip of him nudged against heat and slick and desperate need.
Their eyes met.
No hesitation. No uncertainty.
This was home.
He thrust inside her in one slow, deep motion, and Hannah cried out, her hands fisting against his back, pulling him closer, pulling him deeper.
Jake groaned, his forehead pressing to hers, barely holding on.
"God, Hannah…" He shuddered. "I love you. I swear to God, I love you."
Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes, but she didn't look away.
