Chapter 3 #2
Hannah stopped at her door, turning to face him.
The light from the bakery's window cast shadows across his face, highlighting the tension in his jaw.
He towered over her, his broad shoulders blocking out the rest of the world.
Making her feel safe, protected. Like nothing could touch her as long as he was there.
"Jake—"
He kissed her before she could finish. Hard. Deep. Desperate. His large frame pressed her back against the door, one hand cupping her face while the other gripped her hip. Like he was trying to memorize the feel of her skin. Like he was trying to say something his lips couldn't form.
They barely made it up the narrow staircase between the bakery and her apartment before Jake pressed her against the wall, his body caging hers in, his breath ragged against her skin.
Hannah gasped, heart hammering, her fingers tangling in his shirt as he braced a hand against the worn wooden railing beside her.
"Jake," she murmured against his lips, her hands slipping into his hair. He kissed her harder in response, his breath ragged, his body flush against hers like he could somehow fuse them together, like he could brand her into his memory.
When he finally pulled back, his eyes were dark with something she couldn't name.
"What's wrong?" she whispered, safe in the cage of his arms.
"Nothing's wrong." He pressed his forehead to hers, breathing her in. "Everything's perfect."
The words felt heavy.
Then his mouth was on hers again, and any more questions she had died in her throat.
Right now, she just wanted to hold onto this moment. This man. This feeling of being cherished and safe and loved.
Hannah barely registered the moment Jake lifted her into his arms. One second, she was standing at the top of the stairs, breathless from his kiss, and the next, she was pressed against the door to her apartment, his body flush against hers, heat radiating between them.
"Jake," she gasped as his hands framed her face, his forehead pressed to hers. His breath was ragged, his fingers flexing against her skin like he was trying to anchor himself.
He fumbled the door open, kicking it shut behind them.
Then his mouth was on hers again, leaving no space between them.
Her fingers scrambled at his shirt, tugging at the hem, needing to feel him.
Jake groaned as her hands greedily sliding over the taut muscles of his stomach.
He broke the kiss just long enough for her to yank the shirt over his head, tossing it aside.
He moved fast, urgent, stripping away her clothes between kisses, between breaths, between whispered praises murmured against her skin.
"God, Hannah," he muttered against her collarbone, his mouth hot and open, dragging down the column of her throat.
He guided her back toward the bed, his hands on her waist, his grip firm but reverent. The backs of her knees hit the mattress, and she fell onto the cool sheets, Jake following, his weight pressing her down in the most intoxicating way.
His lips traveled lower, mapping every inch of her body like he needed to memorize it. Hannah writhed beneath him, pleasure licking up her spine, pooling low in her belly.
"Jake," she gasped, her fingers in his hair, tugging when his mouth teased along her hipbone.
"Patience, sweetheart," he murmured, his lips curving against her skin. "I want to take my time with you."
But when she pulled him up and met his gaze, he was already breaking, barely holding on.
"Now," she whispered, her voice shaking with need. "I need you now."
He nodded, reaching for the nightstand. Hannah watched as he tore open the foil packet, his hands steady even as his chest rose and fell with heavy breaths.
Then he was back, settling into the cradle of her hips, pressing inside her in one perfect, aching stroke.
Hannah cried out, arching into him, her nails digging into his shoulders. He was deep, thick, stretching her open in the most perfect way.
"Jesus," Jake groaned, dropping his forehead against hers. His body was rigid, his arms trembling as he fought for control. "You—fuck—you feel so good."
He pulled back and thrust again, deeper this time, making her whimper.
And then, he said it.
"I love you."
The words hit her like a thunderclap, stealing her breath.
His hips snapped forward again, harder now, needier, and he said it again.
"I love you, Hannah."
She gasped, her pleasure building, but Jake just kept moving, kept thrusting, his hands gripping her thighs, pulling her closer like he couldn't bear any space between them.
"I love you," he growled, burying his face against her neck, his breath hot and uneven. "I love you—I love you—I love you."
She felt it in every thrust, every squeeze of his fingers, every frantic press of his lips to her skin.
This wasn't just sex. It wasn't just heat and desperation. It was everything.
It was wild. It was reckless. It was real.
Her body tightened, coiling, winding, pleasure climbing higher, pushing her to the edge. Jake felt it too—his movements turned more frantic, more erratic, his grip bruising as he chased the same peak.
"Jake," she gasped, clinging to him.
"I'm right here, sweetheart," he groaned. "Come with me. Let go—I've got you."
And she did.
Pleasure shattered through her, white-hot, her body pulsing around him. Jake gave a low, wrecked moan, driving into her once, twice—then stilling, his whole body trembling.
For a long moment, neither of them moved, their heavy breaths the only sound in the room.
Jake pressed a kiss to her temple, his arms still wrapped tightly around her.
She traced her fingers over his damp skin, her heart pounding.
Carefully, she tilted her head, looking up at him. His eyes were closed, his chest still rising and falling in deep, measured breaths.
"Jake?" she whispered.
He stilled. Then, slowly, his eyes opened.
For the briefest second, something flashed in his gaze—fear, maybe. Panic. But then it was gone, replaced by something softer, something unbearably raw.
He swallowed. "Yeah?"
Her heart squeezed.
She could push. She could make him say it—make him admit it when he wasn't inside her.
But something about the way he was holding her, the way his arms were still wrapped around her so tightly, like he was afraid to let go—it told her everything she needed to know.
So instead, she just kissed him.
Soft. Sweet.
And when he pulled her into his chest, holding her like she was something precious, like he was trying to hold onto something slipping through his fingers—
She let him.