Page 71 of Hannah.
As soon aswe’re past the doorway, Johan’s mouth is on me, his hands on my waist. He lifts me up and carries me over to the bed, laying me down in the middle of the white duvet.
“God, Hannah,” Johan breathes, “you have no idea what you do to me.” His voice is low and husky, filled with a mix of admiration and desire.
I’m unable to respond because he’s climbing over me, his knee nudging my thighs apart, and he’s leaning down to capture my mouth. His hand is sliding up my thigh, teasing the bare skin at the waist of my jeans, and then he’s pushing in and tracing the edge of the lace on my panties, making me jerk and gasp.
“Johan….”
He doesn't stop. His lips are on mine, his tongue exploring my mouth, his hand slipping under the fabric. Two fingers slide through the damp folds and find the bundle of nerves there, and I moan into his mouth, arching into his hand. It’s all happening so fast, like a train going off the rails. His movements areconfident and practiced, while I feel like I can't control anything about my body.
Then his hand retreats, and I whimper in protest, wanting the exquisite friction to continue, but he chuckles.
“Don’t worry, love. I have better plans for you.”
Johan reaches back, tugging at the button and zip of my jeans, and then rolls off of me so that he can get them off. I lift my hips, allowing him to strip me of my pants and panties, and then he leans down to kiss me, his tongue tangling with mine while his hand returns to its exploration.
“Oh God,” I moan when his thumb starts to circle the sensitive flesh, and then he slips a finger into me, but just barely.
“Baby, you’re so wet,” he says in a low voice. “Do you want more?”
“Please,” I plead, not caring how desperate I sound.
He adds a second finger, stretching me just slightly, and his thumb speeds up, bringing me closer to the edge. Johan’s mouth closes over mine, muffling the sounds falling from my lips, and my body is trembling, my fingers clawing at the bedspread.
This is only the beginning. I know we’re going to have sex this weekend, and even with his hands between my legs, it seems impossible that we will go that far. But I want it. I want it so badly. I’m aching inside, desperate for something to fill me. Why in the hell is he staying so shallow?
Ah. The pesky business of my virginity. Getting any of the pain out of the way now means that there won’t be any distractions when it comes time for...well, the main event. I roll my hips, trying to bring his fingers deeper into me, but he pulls his hand away as I do so, refusing to give in to me.
“Johan,” I huff in annoyance. “I need you.”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he admits, his gaze softening as he speaks. “The thought of causing you pain kills me.”
This sweet man. I’d do anything to have him. Pain is nothing as long as he’s mine. “Do it,” I breathe, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’m ready.”
Johan's two fingers are in my channel, but only a knuckle deep. My heart swells at how careful he is with me, like fine porcelain set to break. “This will be uncomfortable. I won’t lie to you,” he warns. “But it will only hurt for a second. Okay?”
I nod, and Johan slides his fingers further into me, then out. In and out, he sets up a rhythm. My fists ball around the blanket beneath me, and my breath comes in short gasps. There's a tiny, almost imperceptible pinch, but I’m tense enough to feel it all.
“Hannah, relax. This will go easier for you if you relax.”
“Okay,” I exhale shakily, “Okay, I'll try.”
His fingers are a lot bigger than mine, and it takes some coaxing, but finally, he’s fully sheathed within me.
“Are you okay?”
I nod. “Y-yeah. It feels…weird.”
Johan chuckles. “Like I said, give it a second."
Sure enough, the feeling quickly turns from an ache to a pleasant pressure, and I loosen my grip on the quilt.
“See?” he asks gently. “I told you.”
He leans in and kisses me, and it's so sweet and tender. His lips are soft against mine and it's only a matter of time before I’m melting against him. He breaks the kiss, his mouth ghosting over my jaw until his lips graze the shell of my ear. “Watch me touch you.”
With effort, I crack open my eyes, glancing down the length of my body. Johan's fingers are working me, the muscles standing out on his forearm, and I watch his thumb move in rapid, tight circles. I can't last much longer like this.
How can this be straight-laced, buttoned-up Johan here with his hand between my legs, his big body hovering over mine? I want to slow down time, soak in every ounce of this moment,and revel in it later when I’m alone in my dorm, wishing he were with me. But I also can't hold back any longer.