Page 108 of Johan.

“I love you,” he whispers against my lips, his voice raw with emotion.

“I love you too,” I reply, my heart swelling with the intensity of our connection.

He gently but firmly backs me against the mahogany library table that rests in the center of the room, the cool surface contrasting sharply with the heat of our bodies. His fingers deftly slide the straps of my dress off my shoulders, each touch sending shivers down my spine. As his lips trail lower, I arch into him, my hands tangled in his hair. The rustle of our clothes falling to the floor is the only sound, apart from our ragged breathing.

Johan lifts me onto the table, the sense of urgency building between us. I tug at his suit jacket, and he shrugs it off in one swift motion. His skin is warm under my touch, muscles taut and quivering with restrained desire. My dress slides up as he pushes me back, his fingers skimming my thighs, making my breath hitch. The cool air hits my skin, goosebumps rising in its wake.

With a quick flick, he unzips my dress, and it falls away, leaving me in nothing but my panties. His mouth is on me, his kisses scorching a path down my body. I shiver with anticipation as he moves lower, his hands sliding my panties down and off. The cold air hits my exposed skin, and I feel a thrilling vulnerability. The scent of our arousal mingles in the air, heady and intoxicating.

Johan kneels before me, his eyes locking with mine as he spreads my legs. The anticipation is almost unbearable. Then, his mouth is on my clit, and I can’t suppress my moans. His tongue moves with a skill that drives me wild, each stroke bringing me closer to the edge. My hands grip the edge of the table, my body trembling as waves of pleasure crash over me. The wet, intimate sounds of his mouth on me only heighten my arousal.

“Tell me what you want,” he growls, the vibrations against my skin sending another shudder through me.

I can barely form words, my head swimming with desire. “I want to come,” I gasp, my back arching. “I want you to make me come.”

His tongue moves faster, circling and flicking my clit. Johan clearly wants to make this last, each second, each caress, making the intensity stronger. He is my world, his actions, expressions, voice, everything is as it should be. “Please,” I beg, my voice strained.

As if on cue, I feel the dam about to break, my muscles clenching, tears forming in the corners of my eyes, and my vision blurs.

“Don't stop, oh please,” I whimper, and with another gasp, I climax. Johan keeps his mouth there, sending me into overdrive. My toes curl, and my legs quake under his hands. I scream out, one hand flying to his short hair and clutching it tightly. With my senses restored, Johan’s tongue laps at my pussy, lapping up every ounce of my orgasm.

Then he's standing, wasting no time, undoing his belt and pushing his pants to the floor. I'm still quivering as he approaches me, gently putting a hand between my breasts and pushing me back until I'm lying flat on the mahogany desk.

Even now, a breath away from him being inside me, his hand curls around my hip, taking me in with just as much reverence as he has every single time. Like he can't believe this is all really happening. A tender mix of affection and frantic want courses through me at the same time, my heart feeling ready to burst. All because of him.

"Make love to me?" I ask, brazen, unafraid, and drowning in how much I need him.

“Like this?” He positions himself at my entrance, the blunt head of his cock sweeping over my clit in the process. My gasp is answer enough.

Then he’s sliding in, and I’m so wet from the way that he just made me come with his mouth and tongue that I’m more than ready, my hips tilting until he finds the spot that makes stars shine behind my closed eyelids.

There's a desperation to us here, his mouth covering mine, tongue claiming me. A fever spreads from where we are joined, my temperature flaring as he strokes into me. I'm a babbling mess of moans and pleas by the time his hand dives between us, finding the tight knot and rubbing it. It's not uncommon for Johan to force me to come two or three times, but right now, my entire body is strung tight as I try and fail to muffle myself against his shoulder.

“Not yet,” he warns, sensing I'm close. I want to cry as he denies me once or twice; each time, the pressure increases, the need overwhelming. “Wait.” With a well-practiced motion, he tweaks my nipple, giving me the last little bit I need to break apart with a feral howl.

With a final, deep thrust, Johan shudders against me, his release triggering my own. I cry out, the pleasure washing over me in powerful waves. He collapses against me, both of us breathing hard, hearts racing in unison. The mingled scent of our exertion and satisfaction fills the air, grounding us in the reality of our connection.

For a moment, we just lie there, entwined, basking in the afterglow. Then, he lifts his head, his eyes soft and filled with love. “I never want this to end," he says, his breath still ragged.

“Me neither,” I whisper back, running my fingers through his hair. “Let's stay like this forever.”

But forever lasted five minutes. As we compose ourselves and return to the grand hall, the weight of the day settles overme. The discovery, the revelations about Astrid, and the arrest of Ludovic all swirl in my mind. I know I need to talk to Astrid to understand her side and see if maybe she deserves another chance.

Johan senses my contemplation and squeezes my hand. “Whatever you decide, I’m here for you.”

I smile, leaning into him. “Thank you, love.”

The future feels uncertain, but with Johan by my side, I’m ready to face whatever comes our way. The museum, filled with echoes of the past, now holds the promise of our shared future, a future we will build together, one filled with hope, love, and understanding.

43

Hannah

The Uber rollsto a stop in front of the imposing iron gates of Goschen Hall, the headlights piercing through the deepening twilight. The sky is an indigo canvas, and the last vestiges of daylight cling stubbornly to the horizon. It’s around 8 p.m., the day after the press conference, and a cold knot of anxiety tightens in my stomach. Astrid has been alone since Nina went on to Morocco, and with everything that’s happened recently, I can’t shake the feeling that she might need someone right now. I haven’t spoken to her for the past two weeks, which I hope gave her some time to wind down.

I fumble with my phone, my fingers trembling slightly as I call Astrid again. The phone rings, the sound echoing in my ear, each ring amplifying my nervousness. The Uber driver looks back at me through the rearview mirror, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern.

“Come on, Astrid, pick up,” I mutter under my breath, glancing nervously at the darkened driveway. The line rings and rings, a relentless pulse in the still night.

---