Page 33 of Johan. (Van Den Bosch #8)

I walk over to them, feeling the warmth and familiarity of their presence. “It really was. Thank you both for everything.” My voice’s filled with genuine gratitude. Then, turning to my aunt, I say, “Thank you for coming.”

Aunt Amelia gives me a gentle hug. “Oh dear, thank you for inviting me.”

Oma places a hand on my shoulder, her eyes soft. “True. Thank you, Hannah, for bringing my sister back.” She pauses for a moment, her eyes on mine. “Family is what makes these gatherings special. It’s so nice to have you here, especially during the holidays.”

I nod, feeling a sense of contentment. “It's good to be here. Sometimes I miss this when I'm away,” I admit, glancing at Johan, who is watching us with a soft smile.

“Well, you're always welcome back,” Oma says, giving me a reassuring squeeze.

“We'll see each other at lunch tomorrow,” I say, trying to sound cheerful.

“Of course, dear,” Amelia responds warmly. “Good night.”

“Good night,” I echo, hugging them each once more.

Heading to the bedroom with Johan, I close the door behind us, leaning against it for a moment as I exhale deeply. “What a night,” I say, my voice carrying a mix of exhaustion and relief.

Johan hums in agreement, kicking off his shoes and slowly stripping off his shirt and pants.

I watch as his shoulders relax, the exhaustion of the evening evident in the way he moves.

“But we survived.” His comment follows with a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

He steps behind me, his hands warm and gentle as he helps to unzip my gown.

His fingers brush against my skin, sending a shiver down my spine.

I close my eyes, feeling the tension melt away.

After a moment, he asks hesitantly, “I noticed you went to talk to Elise and the group by the fireplace. Did you, uh, speak about me or something?” His voice is low, laced with curiosity and a hint of anxiety.

I take off my earrings, nodding. “Yep. I confronted my sister about her nosiness,” I say, my tone firm but weary.

Johan chuckles softly, but there’s a hint of tension in his voice. “She caught me speaking to Astrid,” he admits, his eyes searching mine for a reaction.

I gasp in horror, my eyes wide. “Are you serious?”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair, his expression troubled. “Yeah, and she caught her name too. But I mean, it’s not like there’s only one Astrid in the UK.”

“Yeah, but how many are following you on your socials?” I ask, worry creeping into my voice. The thought of Elise snooping into Johan's social media makes my stomach churn.

Johan frowns, his brow furrowing in concern. “Don't tell me she's going to stalk my Instagram and Astrid’s?” he asks, his voice edged with unease.

“You bet. She's probably already doing it as we speak,” I say, stepping out of my dress. The weight of the evening’s events presses down on me, a mix of frustration and exhaustion. “She’s always been so nosy. Always wanting to know everything about everyone's business. It’s annoying.”

“I didn’t remember her being like that,” Johan says, his voice softening. He watches me with a mixture of empathy and confusion. I can see the concern in his eyes, reflecting the same worries I feel.

You don't know her like I do,” I tell Johan, frustration evident in my tone. Memories of Elise’s meddling and judgmental attitude flood my mind. It’s a tangled web of childhood grievances and sibling rivalry.

“True, Elise has always worn the perfect social mask.” He pauses, observing me with a tender expression.

“I much prefer someone who’s honest and genuine.

” His fingers gently lift my chin. His gaze meets mine, and his eyes are soft, filled with sincerity.

He kisses me tenderly, his lips warm and reassuring.

“Are you sleepy?” he asks, his voice a soft murmur.

I smile, a playful glint in my eyes as I shake off the evening's tension. “Depends for what.”

Johan helps me take my gown off, and his hands start gliding over my body with a familiar and comforting touch.

Each movement feels deliberate and unhurried as if he’s savoring every inch, his caresses filled with a tenderness that makes my skin tingle.

He then removes my panties, his movements slow and tender, creating an intimacy that soothes the day’s chaos.

He carries me to the bed, his arms strong and secure.

The room feels warmer and more intimate as we lose ourselves in each other.

The tension of the evening melts away, replaced by a deep sense of connection and solace in the intimacy we share.

In his arms, I find a sanctuary from the chaos of the night.

He then lays me down with a gentleness that speaks volumes, every movement and every touch a reminder of how treasured I am here with him.

We share more than sex. It’s a deep kinship that resonates between us.

We’ve found solace and comfort in each other as well.

The cool draft from the room slides across my skin, creating a heady mix of shivers.

All I can do is watch him and be aware of how it feels to be here with him in this way.

Watch his expressions, lost in his thoughts, both longing and yearning at the same time.

I know I make him as crazy as he does me.

Once Johan has shed his boxers, he crawls over me on the bed, his gaze filled with intent. When his lips meet mine, the kiss is tender, filled with reverence, as though savoring every moment.

“I think I'm in your debt, beautiful girl,” he says before he leans close enough to press a kiss on my forehead.

Hazy with the slow, warm lust that is building between us, I don’t catch on right away. “In my debt? What for?”

Johan then places a kiss on the pulse point of my neck, working downwards.

“For what happened in the office earlier.

Surely you haven't forgotten already.” His chuckle vibrates against my skin.

“I certainly won't forget the visual of you in that dress with my cock down your throat for the rest of my life.”

Flashes of moments from the evening play across my mind, leading back to that moment. Even now, I want him all over again. I can't get enough.

“I wanted you so badly, too. And now I plan on having you.” At this point, he's reached my belly button and is looking up at me through hooded eyes. “But first, your repayment.”

His breath puffs out warm against the skin of my thighs, and the first brush of his lips against my pussy has me arching into him, desperate for more.

In the privacy of our room, there is no reason to resist. The raw need I feel drives me to grip his hair, pulling him closer.

I want his mouth on me. I want him everywhere.

And, God, does he deliver. With hands spread wide, he moves me to my heart's content, spreading my legs wide so he can sweep the flat of his tongue all the way up my slit.

All of this attention has made me wet, and now, as I groan and beg him to continue, he is eager to drink all of me.

Johan feasts on me as if I'm a banquet laid out before him.

I shake in his arms, my fingers moving to find my own nipples, plucking and pinching as I let myself drown in the desire he so freely creates.

As the sensations of his mouth swirling, licking, and tasting overtake me, I can't keep still, my hips rolling along to the rhythm of Johan's devouring mouth.

When his fingers spread me open so he can flick my clit, I grip the sheets tight in an attempt to hold myself still, bucking up towards him and crying out so loudly I know I must be heard.

But I can't bring myself to care. No one can know what's happening between us right now. The pleasure he makes me feel. The pain. The bliss. All of it. Everywhere.

When he plunges two fingers inside me, I almost come undone, but he pulls me from the edge for just a few heartbeats more.

Circling the tight bud of nerves, Johan teases me once more, always pushing my body closer to orgasm.

He works me like that, kissing and sucking until I'm sure I'll expire from the pleasure before I can reach the precipice.

Eventually, he raises his head enough to speak against me, letting the words fall free to the drenched flesh of my sex. “Don't hold back. Let me have it.”

Those words nearly undo me. What else can I do but follow his command? Holding myself steady, I feel him bring me back to the edge until I'm once again falling free, wings spread wide as the moment overcomes me. I want to go into free fall and let my orgasm take me over.

Leaving me no recourse, he coaxes me to relax and let go to reach the glory he wants for me.

How could I not let go as I feel myself fall deeper.

I start to feel my heartbeat as my senses return.

My chest trembles slightly. Just when I thought the ride was over, Johan does this movement, flicking my clit so wickedly, his breath dancing over my skin as his fingers curl inside me once more.

Everything falls to pieces, and I arch against his hand.

A final shudder runs through my body. I can barely muster the strength to bring a hand to his hair and tug him close, our heat mingling for a moment as our mouths meet.

God help me, the passion he pulls out of me is unexpected. I used to doubt the existence of love. Unsure whether it was truly real or merely a fallacy. A myth our ancestors had written in books and sung about in song, nothing more than a beautiful farce.

But now I understand the truth.

And while I'm grateful to have touched a part of this man's heart, he's done the same in mine as well. I feel it now, despite the short amount of time. “Take me,” I whisper.

“Not yet,” he groans as he slides over my sweat-slicked body. “I won't last.”