Page 4 of Johan. (Van Den Bosch #8)

The implications of our next moves become clearer with this revelation.

We are not only retrieving stolen files but potentially disrupting a meticulously laid plan that spans decades.

“We need to be extremely careful,” I caution.

“Not just about the party and getting the files but about every step we take after. He’s not just a treasure hunter; he’s a strategist.”

She nods, her expression set with resolve. “Then let’s make sure our strategy is better. If we can expose him and prove his crimes, perhaps we can free you from this engagement and his influence over your career.”

“That’s not the reason why I got engaged, though.” The words come out more defensively than I intend, but it’s essential she understands the truth isn’t so straightforward.

Holding my gaze with an intensity that seems to see right through me, she asks, “So why did you get engaged to her? Are you still going to lie to me and say you love her?” Her voice is steady, but there’s a slight tremor that suggests she’s bracing for an answer she might not want to hear.

Feeling the weight of our shared past and the tangled web of our present, my resolve weakens.

I can no longer bear the weight of the lies between us.

“She knows you are the one who stole the artifact at her exhibit, and she's ready to expose you to the dean and get you expelled. With the influence of her dad, you don’t stand a chance.”

Hannah’s face is one of shock as she registers what I said. “I can speak to the dean, first! Explain to him that I have kleptomania.”

“And how are you going to explain the fact I knew and did nothing? That makes me an accomplice.”

The words hang heavy in the air between us. Hannah takes a few steps back, her face a mask of hurt and disbelief as she processes the magnitude of what I've just revealed. Tears start to form in her eyes, and I can see the shock and realization colliding within her.

“So you did it to protect me?” Her voice is a whisper, laden with a mix of emotions.

I just nod, unable to find the words to express how deeply I regret the situation we’re in and how fiercely I wish I could change things.

Before I can say anything more, she stands on her tiptoes and closes the distance between us, kissing me hard on the mouth.

The kiss—desperate and full of the pent-up emotions we've both been holding back—is everything and more.

I respond instinctively, deepening the kiss, allowing myself to get lost in the moment, in the feel of her lips on mine.

As my tongue finds hers to stroke, a rush of emotions cascades through me.

The initial shock of our lips meeting morphs into a consuming passion, a release of all the feelings that have been simmering beneath the surface.

The air around us seems to crackle with the electricity of our connection, each kiss stoking the flames of a long-suppressed desire.

Hannah's hands find their way to my neck, pulling me closer as if she can't get close enough, as if she can close the distance between our intertwined fates.

My own hands roam to her back, pressing her body against mine, feeling the curve of her spine beneath my fingers.

The sensation is intoxicating, overwhelming, driven by a mix of fear, longing, and fierce protectiveness.

Our breaths mingle, quick and uneven, as the intensity of the moment consumes us.

The world outside—the risks, the schemes, the potential fallout—fades into a distant hum, insignificant in the face of what feels like an inevitable collision of our souls.

The kiss is a silent battle, a balm, and a bond all at once, expressing things words could never capture.

The heat between us builds, each touch and caress amplifying the urgency of our connection.

It's as if we are trying to reassure each other through this kiss, affirming that no matter what happens next, this connection is real, it's ours, and it can’t be dictated by any external forces. It’s a moment of pure truth between us, raw and unguarded.

As we reluctantly part lips, we are left breathless, our foreheads resting against each other, our eyes locked.

The intensity of our gaze mirrors the intensity of our kiss—a profound understanding that what we share is deep, complicated, and indelibly etched into who we are.

The reality of our situation might be daunting, but in this moment, we've found our truth, and it’s something we both know we'll fight for, no matter the odds.

As our breaths begin to settle, the lingering closeness only heightens the urgency between us.

I look into Hannah's eyes, ablaze with a mixture of desire and defiance—the same fire that I've always admired in her.

Without a word, drawn by a magnetic pull we can neither deny nor escape, our lips crash together once more, this time with a reckless abandon that speaks volumes of our long-suppressed yearnings.

My hands are eager as they roam her back, tracing the contours that I've memorized from our weekend together, now felt up close with a fervor that sends shivers through us both.

Her fingers thread through my hair, pulling gently, a move that deepens our kiss and sends a wave of warmth coursing through my body.

The taste of her lips is intoxicating, a perfect blend of familiarity and discovery that drives me to want more, to explore further, so I guide Hannah back against the nearest shelf.

The books behind her barely protest the collision, a silent witness to our heated embrace.

The solid feel of her pressed against the cool, hard surface only intensifies the sensation, grounding our connection in the reality of the moment, tangible and undeniable.

Hannah’s hands roam down to my chest, her touch setting every nerve alight.

With deliberate urgency, she goes further down until she deftly unzips my jeans, pushing them down along my boxers to free me.

Her fingers brush against my cock, sending shivers down my spine and igniting a fire within.

Then, with my hands reaching under her dress, I slowly pull her panties down to her feet, and she steps out of them.

I pin her gently but firmly, my body pressing into hers, leaving no space for doubts or hesitations.

Our kisses grow more fervent, more desperate, as if each one could be our last. The thrill of the forbidden, the danger of being discovered, only adds to the intensity.

My mind races, aware of the risks and the potential consequences, but my heart overrules it all, driven by a deep, undeniable need for her.

The cool, hard books press into her back, a stark contrast to the heat between us.

Every touch, every kiss, is a rebellion—a declaration that, at this moment, we belong to no one and nothing but each other.

With a swift, fluid motion, I lift Hannah’s legs and wrap them around my hips. She pushes her dress up, and I angle the tip of my cock towards her opening before thrusting inside her. She gasps at the feel of me but doesn’t protest.

“I missed this,” I tell her between muffed breaths.

In response, Hannah moans out, “Me too. God, me too, Johan.” Her breathing quickens as I roll my hips into her.

Each thrust draws a wave of pleasure. Her scent, her taste, the warmth of her skin, and the feel of her bare flesh pressed against mine fill my senses.

It is everything I want, and all that I never knew I needed.

The world around me fades, and all that matters is Hannah and how her muscles clench around me.

As my rhythm builds, my hips piston faster and faster, a perfect, fluid movement guided by instinct and desire.

A rush of pleasure surges through me. My mind fills with a glorious, incandescent bliss, and my whole body shivers with rapture.

Still, I can’t let go, can't let up. I want to drag this moment out as long as possible, bleeding every second for all it’s worth.

A sharp cry escapes Hannah’s throat. She grasps the edge of the shelf behind her, her knuckles turning white. “You have no idea…” She pants, her breath warm and sweet against my face, “No idea what you're doing to me.”

The shelf rattles slightly, the books on it trembling with every thrust. The risk of discovery grows, and the threat of being caught adds fuel to our desire.

There’s something exhilarating about defying fate and expectations.

In a few days’ time, everything we’re doing could seem impossible, but here and now, it feels like nothing can hold us back.

Our movements become more synchronized, each thrust and moan in perfect harmony, building to an inevitable crescendo.

Her nails dig into my shoulders, a delicious mix of pleasure and pain, urging me on.

The room around us fades into oblivion, and all that exists is the two of us, locked in this passionate dance.

“Gosh, Johan, don’t stop.” Her eyes are shut, her lips parted to breathe, and all I can do is comply.

I feel the tension within me coil tighter and tighter, an exquisite pressure that demands release. Hannah's breath hitches, her body arching against mine, and I know she's close, too. The intensity of the moment is almost overwhelming, a maelstrom of sensations and emotions crashing over us.

“Hannah, fuck,” I groan against her neck.

The confinement of the shelf behind her, the walls around us—they all seem to conspire, holding us in this stolen slice of time where nothing else matters but the feel of her against me, the rapid rise and fall of her chest, the soft moans that escape her lips and fill the hushed room with the sound of our indiscretion.

With a final, shuddering thrust, I lose myself completely, a wave of ecstasy washing through me as I find my release. Hannah’s body quivers against me, her own climax mirroring mine, and for a brief, blissful moment, we are one. I stay inside her a bit more, enjoying her warmth.

As the last tremors subside, I collapse against her, spent but utterly content.

Our breaths mingle, ragged and satisfied, as we come down from the heights of our passion.

The world slowly comes back into focus, the reality of our surroundings reasserting itself, but for now, all that matters is the warmth of her embrace and the knowledge that, for this moment at least, we have found something truly special.

Here in the Manuscripts Room, among whispers of the past, we write our own story, one driven by raw emotions and a connection that refuses to be ignored or denied.

As we finally break apart, gasping for air, the reality of our actions begins to seep in. But the look in Hannah’s eyes, fierce and unapologetic, tells me she doesn’t regret it.

Neither do I.

For now, the world outside can wait. In this room, at this moment, we have claimed something back for ourselves, and that is worth every risk, every potential fallout.

It's a reminder of who we are at our core—passionate, undeterred, and irrepressibly drawn to each other, no matter the circumstances.