Page 34 of Johan. (Van Den Bosch #8)

He’s right, of course. But neither of us could care less at the moment. Too heady and drunk on the emotions that hold us here together. And I know why we shouldn't fight it. Instead, we embrace it and let the emotions guide us into a safe place of satisfaction.

Johan paces himself by licking a hot path down my chest once more, this time stopping to worship my breasts in earnest. Slow, languid circles of his hot tongue make me cry out and arch, my breasts arching into his hot mouth.

Johan teases with those damned teeth as I squirm under him.

From the gentle bite, he kisses and licks a path all over again, slowly sending me to soaring heights. This...this is everything.

He continues until he's breathless and shaking with an uncontrollable need. Finally, he guides his body between my legs, forcing them even wider than before as he takes what he needs from me.

“Johan, please.” There’s that plea in my voice again, the one that causes my voice to crack.

Johan bends over to breathe those same words into my ear, his cock impossibly thick as he pushes past my walls.

My name tumbles from his lips as we both shake and tremble with a feral need.

He rolls his hips against mine, and I wrap my legs around his back, crossing them over.

This elicits a raspy groan that only spurs me onward.

I can tell he’s working hard to control himself, and it only drives me higher knowing he wants me this way.

He hitches one of my legs over his shoulder, kissing my calf and the hollow of my ankle as we adjust to the shift in position.

His tempo evens out to become slow and deliberate, pushing into me deeper.

It’s as though we have all the time in the world.

There is no rush or reason to stop. But no matter how easy and controlled he is, his harsh whispers of gratitude are completely lost on me.

Johan makes a steady retreat, hovering above me in outstretched arms. My hands glide along his biceps, feeling the muscles flexing from his steady pumping as he drives into me.

“Don't hold back,” I plead.

“You might kill me.”

“I promise to nurse you back to health and do it all over again,” I pant. “This feels so good. Please. Johan, I want it harder, faster, everything. You. Just you.”

And that’s all I need to say. At my plea, Johan grants my wishes without hesitation.

Gathering me up as he lays back, we flip positions, him beneath me.

His eyes seem to glow up at me from this angle, blue fire blazing for me and me alone.

There is a tenderness behind his ferocity, a kindness that is almost too much to bear in that moment.

Holding on to his forearms, I raise my hips and begin moving of my own accord.

I come down on him as he rises to meet me.

It's in this moment that the air between us thickens, allowing that deeper emotion to sink in, settling all the way to my soul.

There is a shift between us that hits me harder than the act itself.

Bending forward slightly, I get the impact I was after and scream out, breaking down the walls I didn't know I still had up between us.

There is a moment of fear that washes through me before it's pushed away in one forceful thrust. Now, in the here and now, this is where I'm meant to be.

Suddenly, the light caress of Johan’s thumb grazes against the strained furrow of my brow, bringing me back to myself and this moment. “Stay here with me,” he urges, punctuating his words with the drive of his cock inside of me. “Let yourself feel, Hannah.”

Johan raises his hands and cups my face, our gazes holding. Stay in the moment. Okay. I can do that.

It doesn't take me long to find my footing. Sliding my fingers through the coarse locks of his hair, I set a steady, earth- shattering pace that has him hitting me in all the right places. My pussy clenches around him, and Johan’s strong hands grip my hips as he pumps into me, fighting for every bit of pleasure.

We use one another. Our motions stuttered and strong.

It’s like being trapped between the sun and its golden heat.

Sweat glistens along his brow, and I lower to press our bodies together, letting my skin absorb the furnace of his lust. Burying his head in my neck, I hear his groan echoing down the length of my body, and it sinks into my very being.

As I pull away, Johan trails his hands over my arms, wrapping his arms around my back and arching me into his chest. So close that there isn’t even a wisp of breath between us, he strokes down my spine, and I shiver, skin alight from every place he touches.

I’m near feverish when I pull away and grasp his hands.

Running them over me, I raise myself to give him room.

Not surprised when I feel his teeth nip my nipple, tugging, as he squeezes my breast until I cry out.

This sets a new kind of rhythm as we pound into one another.

The bed protests under us, but I don't think about that.

The tidal wave builds and crests before we collide, swept under by the force of pleasure. I bite into his shoulder, stifling my cry, as stars burst behind my eyelids. Every muscle tenses and releases in rhythm with the moment.

Time becomes a blur as I cling to him, unable to move, tethered to this bed. Eventually, we both roll onto our backs, breathless. “Just... give me a second.” My voice is barely a whisper, dreamy and distant. Johan looks equally lost, his face softened with a lazy grin spreading across his lips.

“Mom? Dad?” The sound of little Arthur’s voice slices through the haze, calling for us. We exchange glances, initially ignoring him, trusting the nanny to handle it.

But then comes the knock at the door, jolting me upright. “Mom! I know you're in there!”

Johan freezes, his eyes wide with shock. “Shit. What do we do?” he murmurs, caught between panic and laughter.

“Go back to sleep, Arthur,” I urge, hoping he’ll drop it.

“I need to go poo!” Arthur calls out, urgency clear in his tiny voice.

Johan and I lock eyes, and all we can do is stifle our laughter.

I roll my eyes as Johan scrambles out of bed, grabbing a pair of boxers and a T-shirt.

I follow suit, quickly slipping into my pajamas.

Once we are dressed, Johan opens the door to reveal a very distressed little Arthur.

His curly hair is a tousled mess, and his big blue eyes are wide with worry, reflecting the dim hallway light.

He clutches his stuffie tightly, a small, well-loved teddy bear with a missing ear, his lower lip quivering.

“Sorry, buddy. Mommy and Daddy aren’t here, but your sister and I are gonna help.” Johan’s trying to sound comforting, his voice soft and gentle.

Arthur frowns immediately, his small brows furrowing. “Who are you?”

“I'm Johan, your sister's friend,” Johan replies, trying to hide his nervousness. His eyes meet mine, searching for reassurance.

I kneel down to Arthur's level, taking his hand gently. “Alright, let's go poo, buddy. Here's the bathroom.” I guide him to the ensuite bathroom, feeling the warmth and trust of his little hand in mine. Arthur hands me his stuffie before walking inside, his small fingers lingering on the soft fur.

“Can you hold Mr. Gibbs for me?” Arthur asks, his voice small and pleading, his eyes full of innocence.

I nod, taking the well-worn stuffie bear, its fur soft and familiar. Arthur goes inside and closes the door behind him but then calls out, “Can you tell me a story to relax? Nini always tells one.”

“Who's Nini?” I ask, looking puzzled, glancing at Johan for a clue.

Johan, lowering his voice, says, “I think he means the nanny.”

“What kind of story do you want?” I ask Arthur, trying to keep my voice calm and soothing, hoping to ease his discomfort.

“Dragons,” he says loudly from the bathroom, his voice echoing slightly in the small space.

I sigh, realizing I am unprepared for this. “Sorry, all I brought with me are books about art history.”

Johan quickly pulls out his phone, his fingers moving swiftly over the screen as he googles a YouTube video about dragons.

He finds one and hands the phone to Arthur, who is now glued to the screen, his wide eyes reflecting the glowing light of the video.

The narrator's voice begins to weave a tale of fire-breathing dragons and brave knights.

“Well done,” I whisper to Johan, impressed by his quick thinking. “It almost seems like you're the one who grew up with siblings.”

Johan smiles, a hint of pride in his eyes. “Just trying to help,” he replies softly, his voice filled with warmth.

As Arthur listens intently to the dragon story, his little body visibly relaxes, the tension melting away.

Johan and I exchange a relieved look, the shared responsibility bringing us closer.

Despite the unexpected interruption, there is a sense of warmth and family in the room.

The night has taken an unexpected turn, but it is moments like these that make everything worthwhile.

In Johan's arms, I find a sanctuary from the chaos of the night, and in Arthur's innocent trust, I find a reminder of the simple joys of having my family so close by.