Page 99 of Harbinger

My breath catches, and I watch him, wide-eyed, as he goes on and on about how he’s seen me. Really saw me and how much he wants to be there for me.

And I realize that someone is fighting for me. Sure, it’s a small fight, but it’s a fight nonetheless.

And someone is fighting. For me.

“I need water,” I grumble as I get up, heading to the kitchen. Grabbing a glass, I fill it with tap water, throwing it back with a gulp.

Large hands grab at my waist, pulling me into him as he hugs me from behind. His mouth finds the crook of my neck, and I breathe him in. He smells like whiskey, as always. Despite me never seeing him drink.

I turn around in his arms, getting lost in his deep brown eyes. He stays like that for a couple of minutes, just us, looking into each other’s eyes.

And I feel at home.

My nerves go away.

This is where I want to be.

He captures my lips in his, holding my face between his hands. I turn to putty.

Reaching out to grab the back of his head, I weave my fingers in his hair, pulling on it as he does the same, fisting mine, forcing my head back as he kisses up my neck and back to my lips.

Ronan picks me up, placing me carefully on top of the kitchen island, running his hands along my body. I grab his face in mine, kissing him with every last bit of energy I have today, our tongues dancing as I wrap my legs around his body, pulling him in tighter.

His hands go down to my thighs, pressing into them as his fingers make their way higher and higher.

“Are you completely naked under this?” he murmurs into my lips, and I smile as he explores further.

Stepping back, Ronan lifts my arms, peeling off the shirt.

“There could be people outside,” I tell him, only slightly worried.

He flips off the lights. “Is that better?” he asks.

I nod nervously.

Ronan stands there in front of me, biting his lip as his eyes trace every single curve of my body. Every single dip. Every single flaw. He sees all of it, yet he would never consider any of them flaws.

Maybe I should be nicer to myself.

He starts with my neck. Licking it once, he sucks at my skin, taking his time to do the job right. His short beard scratches my skin, and I feel like I’m on fire.

Trailing his tongue back up my neck, Ronan’s tongue slides against mine as he wraps my long hair around his wrist, pulling me back.

He leans me back, but not far enough to lay down, no. Instead, I prop myself up on my forearms, watching as his mouth makes its way back down my body, capturing my nipping between his teeth. He pinches the opposite, rolling it between his fingers as I feel all of my blood run south.

I moan, and he uses the opportunity to kiss me again. Sloppy. Possessive. Animalistic. We don’t worry about how it looks, instead getting lost in the moment, our kisses becoming more and more desperate as I palm his shirt, desperate for him to take it off.

When he does, all I can do is appreciate the view. I’ve seen it so many times in the last two weeks, but it’s nothing compared to when I have my legs wrapped around him.

Sliding closer to the edge of the counter, I press him into me harder, feeling him through his jeans.

“Nope, not yet,” he rasps, his chest rising and falling quicker than I’ve ever seen it. He’s not out of breath. This isn’t exercise. He’s just gotten lost in himself. In me.

And I have too.

“Please,” I beg, looking up at him, my eyes wide. This powerful man that has saved me more than once. This kind man who has made me feel safe and at home for the first time in my miserable life. The man who gave me another chance to live.

He shakes his head, pushing me down even lower on the cool stone.

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