Page 18 of Johan.

His fingers trail down my belly, grazing the sensitive skin with just enough pressure to make me shiver. He lingers for a moment over the mound of my sex before slipping between the folds, parting me with practiced ease. His touch is deliberate, teasing, and then he dips inside, a low hum of approval rumbling from his chest. “You're already so wet,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire.

“I've been wet since you turned me away,” I whisper breathlessly, the frustration and longing from earlier still simmering beneath the surface.

He groans, a sound deep and guttural, and slips a finger inside me, moving with gentle precision. His eyes darken as he adds another finger, slowly stretching me, each movement sending shockwaves through my body. When he crooks them just right, hitting that spot, my head tilts back against the pillows, my vision blurring as a gasp tears from my lips. My whole body responds to him, heat spreading like wildfire.

“I'm sorry about before,” he says softly, his voice almost reverent as his fingers work magic inside me, teasing me closer to the edge. “I regretted sending you away the second you left. Let me make it up to you.”

“Yes,” I manage to breathe, my voice trembling with need.

With a look of pure focus, he shifts, moving downward. His lips brush against my skin, leaving a hot, wet trail of kisses between my breasts, down across my ribcage, and lower still. Each touch heightens the anticipation, my body arching slightly toward him as I let myself fall back against the pillows,surrendering to him. The air feels thick with tension, every nerve in my body humming with expectation, waiting for him to claim me fully.

Johan’s tongue licks up the center of me, slow and deliberate, and I sigh, letting the warm waves of pleasure roll through me. Each gentle stroke of his tongue sends shivers up my spine, his beard grazing my tender flesh with just enough roughness to drive me wild. The sensation is electric, building steadily with every caress, until the pleasure begins to coil tightly inside me.

It doesn't take him long to bring me to the edge. My hand tangles in his hair, pulling slightly as my other hand grips the pillow beneath me for support. My body trembles, every nerve sparking, and then I’m lost, nearly shaking as the orgasm crashes through me.

“Oh my God,” I groan, my voice trembling with pleasure. Johan’s arms tighten around my thighs, holding me firmly in place as he continues to work me through the aftershocks, his mouth still teasing, not letting me escape the pleasure.

“Come for me again, Hannah,” he demands, his mouth hot and insistent.

“When you're inside me,” I pant, and he moves up and over me, bracing his weight on his arms. His face hovers inches from mine, his eyes dark with desire.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” The word is barely out of my mouth before I’m pulling him toward me, his hips slotting perfectly between mine. The hard length of him presses against me, grazing just the right spot, sending sparks of need through my still-sensitive body.

“Please,” I beg, my voice trembling with urgency. “Johan, please.”

“Tell me,” he whispers against the shell of my ear, his breath warm and tickling, “tell me what you want.”

“Fuck me. Take me,” I plead, my body arching up to meet him.

With a low, guttural groan, he enters me slowly, his breath coming in harsh, ragged gasps against my ear. The feeling is overwhelming, filling me completely, and I moan as the pleasure builds again, hotter this time.

“God, Hannah,” he groans, his voice thick with need. “You feel so good.”

“Move, Johan,” I gasp, my body already craving more. “Fuck me.”

He's slow and careful at first, but each thrust has him moving harder and faster until the room is filled with the sounds of our coupling. I'm gasping, and his mouth finds mine, sealing his lips over mine. His tongue plunders, and his hands grab mine, holding them down at the sides of my head.

“Let go,” Johan urges, his words strained and rough. “I want to hear you say my name.”

I do, breathing his name and arching off the bed, but he doesn’t stop. Instead, he holds me still and pounds into me until I'm right on the brink again. Then he's sliding his hands under my back, keeping himself inside of me as he flips us over. Without missing a beat, I lean forward, planting my hands on his chest and flexing my hips to move above him. His hands settle on my hips, and his eyes are still closed as I roll them forward again and again.

Reaching for one of his hands, I place it on my breast, and he squeezes, and a thrill shoots through my body. With my eyes on his, I change the rhythm, circling my hips when I reach the bottom and circling them again when I'm almost off of him. Each time I slide up his length, the ridges of his cock tease the nerves there, and I press him harder into me. Johan’s mouth hangs open, and a stream of encouraging words flows from his lips. I let them build the ecstasy, adding fuel to the fire until I'mhurtling towards my release. The muscles in my thighs tremble, and heat washes over me, flushing my skin.

When he’s close, too, he sits up, holding me against him as he drives himself deeper.

My arms close around his shoulders, and my legs encircle him, my cries of his name swallowed by his kiss. Then he’s pulsing and calling my name and coming inside me, spilling his seed with each drive of his hips.

As our orgasms wind down, Johan gently lays me back on the bed before slipping away. Moments later, he returns with a warm, damp cloth and carefully cleans me, his touch tender and soothing.

“You’re not gonna make me leave this bed,” I say with finality, watching as he tosses the washcloth into the corner with a casual flick.

He’s back on the mattress next to me, pulling me into his arms before he responds. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

8

Johan

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