Scars (Going All the Way 3)

When he finally forced himself to pull out of the snugness of her body, he gathered her in his arms instantly, loving that she rested her head on his chest, her hand on his abdomen.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly. “I didn’t hurt you?” He’d felt like he’d been too rough, too coarse in how he'd taken her.

She tipped her head back and smiled at him. “No. It was perfect.” They stared at each other for long moments. “It was perfect for my first time.”

Everything in him possessively tightened at her words.

He’d been right. She’d been a virgin.

Mine.

She had been a fucking virgin, and he’d taken her far too roughly… consumed her.

“Hannah.” Her name came from him in a harsh groan.

“Don’t,” she whispered and rose up, looking at him. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. It’s just not something I wanted between us. I felt maybe it would have you looking at me differently then.”

“It sure as hell would have,” he growled. “I would have been gentle.”

She slowly shook her head. “I wanted it the exact way you gave it to me.”

He closed his eyes and breathed out, pulling her in closer, sifting his fingers through her hair. “I should have taken it slower, but with you, everything leaves me. I’m too crazed for you.”

“Don’t change. Don’t stop.” She curled her arm tighter around him, snuggling even closer.

He closed his eyes again and exhaled as pure happiness claimed him. “I won’t let you go. You know that, right?”

A heartbeat of silence passed before she sighed, that little puff of breath leaving her parted lips and moving along his skin.

“Good, because I don’t want you to ever let me go.”16Several weeks laterThe weeks she’d been at the cabin with Scars had been the best of her life. He made her feel free, alive, like she’d been missing one of the most elemental things a human needed… touch from someone who cared about them.

They’d spent every night in bed together. He made love to her, fucked her, touched her, licked every inch of her body. She fell asleep in his arms every night, woke up to his gentle kisses, his hand between her thighs, his gruff, caring words in her ear.

She cared about him. She had fallen for him.

She’d fallen in love with him.

Closing her eyes as she thought that for the hundredth time since she realized this feeling for Scars went deeper than just feeling good and safe in his arms. It went to her marrow, to her soul.

He’d been working on her car this whole time, but she noticed he took his time, kept making up excuses on why he couldn’t get this or that working. There was delay after delay on the parts he needed, and she felt her smile tug at her lips, because she knew what he was doing. He was afraid she’d leave once her car was fixed. He was afraid she’d leave him. He never said the words, probably never would, since he was such a strong man, thought it may show weakness, but she read between the lines.

And he touched her every chance he got. God, he touched her, pulled her in, stroked her face, her hair, any place he could get his hands on. And she yearned for more. Hannah was a fiend for those touches, the scrape of his calloused fingers on her bare body, the soft but gruffly spoken words he whispered in her ear.

“I want you.”

“You drive me crazy.”

“You're mine.”

“I’m never letting you leave me, Hannah.”

Yeah, she had gone ahead and fallen in love with Mickey “Scars” Lore.

He’d gone to town an hour ago to stock up on supplies. He said he wanted her well fed, that he needed fresh fruits and meats, breads, and even chocolate. She laughed at that. They kissed for long moments on the porch, and she hadn’t wanted him to leave. She’d wanted them to go back to bed, where he slept beside her every night now, and for him to make love to her, fuck her, kiss her, just hold her.

She felt a smile form on her lips. Oh, who the hell was she kidding? She’d been wearing the damn thing for so long now it was a permanent fixture on her face.

Although she would have loved to spend time with Scars outside the house, and she knew he’d protect her no matter what, there was still a sliver of fear about being seen, that it would somehow get back to Landon.

That he’d find her.

Although she felt confident with each passing day that she hadn’t killed him, given the fact that there had been no reports of it in the papers Scars had gotten for her from town, she still worried.

She worried so much her belly cramped from it.

Surely, if Landon was going to find her, he would have by now? But she couldn’t stay here for the rest of her life, even if Scars had told her he’d never let her go as he’d been buried in her body and kissing her lips.