Page 10 of Johan.

“Below the hem of my pajamas,” she responds softly, mischief dancing in her words. The image she paints ignites something within me, a warmth spreading through my chest. “What about you, Johan? Where are your hands now?”

Encouraged by her teasing, I let one hand slip beneath the waistband of my boxers, the cool touch of my skin a sharp contrast to the growing heat inside me. “Following your lead,” I murmur, my voice thick with desire as I begin stroking myself slowly. “Seems only fair that if yours is exploring, mine should too.”

A soft chuckle escapes her, the sound intimate despite the distance between us. “Are you touching yourself now?”

I shut my eyes, surrendering to the sensations her words evoke. “I am…” The confession leaves my lips in a breath, heavy with longing. “I miss you, Hannah.” The warmth of my room, once a simple comfort, now feels like a sanctuary as her voice softens through the phone. “I miss your lips, your body, your laughter… I so wish you could be here with me.”

Her voice, too, takes on a tender tone, the distance between us suddenly feeling insurmountable. “I miss you, too,” she says, the emotion in her words palpable. A brief silence follows, thick with unspoken thoughts. “I have to tell you something.” The slight hesitance in her voice immediately captures my full attention, and my heart tightens in response.

“I’m listening. Go ahead.” I shift to sit more comfortably against the headboard, the phone pressed closer to my ear, every word from her suddenly feeling vital.

“I never realized so many students were so smitten over you until today during class. When that thot raised her hand and answered your question, I felt so…” She trails off, clearly searching for the right word.

A small smile tugs at my lips despite the seriousness of our conversation. “Jealous?”

“Yes…” The frustration and embarrassment in her voice are unmistakable. “And I’m embarrassed to admit it, but I want you only to myself.”

Her earnest confession warms me in a way that nothing else could. “I like the sound of that.”

A shift in the conversation brings her news to the forefront. “By the way, I spoke to Oma today; she’s coming over this weekend to help us. She got a property in the Cotswolds and invited us over.”

Excitement flares within me at the thought of the invitation, but it’s quickly tempered by the memory of Astrid’s threats and her controlling nature. “Hannah, I don’t know…”

“You can’t continue trapped in an engagement you’ve never wanted in the first place.” Her resolve is evident, her words carrying a weight that resonates deeply even over the phone.

A mixture of hope and anxiety churns within me. “I hope we manage to find a way out.” The thought of needing help from others, especially to avoid Astrid, feels both necessary anddaunting. “I’m gonna need Conrad’s help to avoid spending the weekend with her, then.”

Her tone rises with concern, cutting through the intimacy we had built. “What? She wants to be with you again?”

“Well, yeah, but don’t worry, I’ll deny her going forward. I promise,” I assure her quickly, wanting to ease her worries.

“Have you seen her lately?” Curiosity and a touch of concern lace her voice.

“I had dinner with my family and hers, but we didn’t even kiss,” I clarify, hoping the truth offers her some comfort.

She muses aloud, confusion evident. “I can’t understand why she’s forcing you into this.”

“I don’t, either. Her own dad suggested I get an affair on the side,” I reveal, the absurdity of the situation not lost on me, though it still feels surreal to say it out loud.

“Really?” Her surprise is palpable, disbelief echoing through her words. “That man is insane.”

“Yep, he’s also coming to my office on Friday to talk to me about that expedition to Oman,” I add, my voice dropping slightly as I share the complexity of my current predicament.

“He isn’t wasting time.”

“True. I’ll keep you updated.” Wanting to bring back the intimate chat to the forefront, I gently shift the conversation. “Now, baby, tell me about your wandering hand; where is it now?”

“On my clit,” she responds, her voice soft and filled with the same desire that grips me. “I haven’t stopped thinking about what we did yesterday in that room.” A shiver runs through me at her words, the memory vivid and electrifying. “Gosh, how much I loved it.”

The intensity of our recent encounter still lingers, a shared secret that only deepens our connection. “It was the wildest thing I have ever done,” I whisper, my voice barely more thana breath as I continue to stroke myself, the darkness of my bedroom cocooning me in this intimate moment. The memory sends a shiver down my spine, my heart racing with the thrill of it. “Did you like feeling me again inside you?”

“Oh, yes, especially when you came inside me.” Her voice is soft, almost dreamy, and I can hear the smile in her words, the satisfaction clear and resonant. The way she says it, with such ease and contentment, makes my pulse quicken even more. “I wish I could feel you right now.”

Her words send a surge of desire through me, making me even harder as I continue stroking myself. But then, the reality of what we did crashes over me like a cold wave. The memory of coming inside her without protection floods my mind, and suddenly, a cold sweat prickles my forehead. My hand stills as the weight of the situation sinks in. “Hannah,” I say, my voice tinged with sudden urgency, “I forgot to ask… are you on the pill or something?” The question hangs in the air, and I feel a knot of anxiety tightening in my chest, the gravity of my oversight hitting me hard.

“I have started today,” she replies, and there’s a hint of hesitation in her voice that I can't ignore.

“Did you take something for yesterday?” My mind races with the possibilities and the consequences of our impulsive actions. I can hear my heartbeat in my ears, each second stretching out painfully.

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