Chapter 10
Andreas
It was a dangerously close call, and it took every ounce of my willpower not to do it, but somehow, some small sliver of self-discipline remained intact.
She begged and writhed seductively, but after I made it abundantly clear that it really wasn’t going to happen, she quickly fell into a deep, drunken sleep, and I knew I’d made the right choice.
I had convinced myself that she was better off without me, but the two days in Brussels had been a living hell, and when I saw the security footage on my phone last night, I couldn’t fool anyone into thinking that I really wanted to keep my distance from her.
Once again, my choice wasn’t for her; it was for me.
Whatever it is about Nora, I can’t stop thinking about her, and I had to see her again.
I don’t know what makes her so different, and I’m not going to overanalyze it.
Overthinking ruins everything. I’m here, in the moment, and I’m calmer than I’ve been in the last forty-eight hours.
What Isabella and Noah were doing near her yesterday is still a mystery to me.
Was it mere coincidence, or was there more to it?
They couldn’t possibly know that I know Nora, could they?
I make a mental note to ask Eric to investigate this.
The thought of Nora being tainted by my treacherous past fires me up.
If I ever run into Noah again, he’ll get the rest of the beating he deserves.
Seeing him dance so intimately with Nora stirred a rage and possessiveness in me that I hadn’t known before.
My dates used to mean nothing to me, but Nora is mine and mine alone.
Again, I’m not sure what to do with that realization, and again, I decide not to think about it right now.
It’s morning, and she’s lying next to me, naked with her legs tangled between mine, her head resting on my shoulder. Not now.
As if she can hear my thoughts, she wakes up and presses herself even closer to me.
She runs her hand over my chest, letting out a deep, satisfied sigh.
I weave my fingers through her hair and stroke her head.
Her sighs quickly turn into moans. She traces my abs with her fingers, following the lines of my six-pack.
My morning erection is dangerously close.
“How many times a week do you work out?” she asks in a husky voice.
I laugh and deliberately flex my abs even harder.
“Almost every day,” I answer in a low and deep voice.
“Hmmm, that explains a lot.”
She squirms a bit more, and now her hip and thigh are dangerously close. I trail my free hand over her body, caressing her shoulders, her back, and then her ass.
“What do you do to look so gorgeous?” I ask her in return.
Her hand stops rubbing as she thinks about her answer.
“Eat chocolate?” she says with a giggle.
I don’t think I’ve ever burst out laughing in bed with a woman before, but with Nora, so many things are a first.
I grab her ass and give it a firm squeeze.
“You mean here?”
She squeals and slaps my stomach.
“So rude of you!”
“You asked for it,” I shoot back.
“That’s true,” she says, suddenly a little more serious.
She starts tracing my stomach again and quickly finds her way downward.
Her hand burns through my boxers as she grabs my cock.
I groan. Waking up like this—there’s nothing I’d want more.
She shifts positions, kneeling over me. She pulls my boxers down until they’re completely off.
I see her face with sleep lines and sparkling eyes, her messy hair and soft, pink nipples.
Nora in the morning is breathtaking. I want to touch and lick her breasts, but she lowers herself, takes me in her hand again, and then takes me into her mouth.
Good. Fucking. Morning.
“Oh God.” I’m not religious, but this feels utterly divine.
She licks, does crazy, delicious things with her tongue, and sucks as her hand pumps up and down.
I don’t want to know where she learned all that.
I revel in every blissful movement of her tongue.
I’m about to explode, but this isn’t how I want to come.
I gently pull her hair and lift her off me.
She licks her lips, looks at me with those big eyes, confused. She’s so goddamn sexy as hell.
“Was it not good? Sorry.”
Not good? What?
“Stay on your knees like that. Don’t move.”
I step out of bed, grab a condom from my pants pocket, and walk to the foot of the bed.
I put the condom on and look up at Nora, who’s still kneeling on the bed, her face turned toward me.
I kneel on the edge of the bed so that my body presses against hers.
I take both of her breasts in my hands and kiss her neck.
“I thought we agreed you wouldn’t apologize in my bed?
” I whisper in her ear. I don’t wait for her response.
“That was so damn good, Nora, I don’t want to know where you learned it, but I couldn’t hold back anymore, and I want to be inside you when I come.
” I think she’s already figured that last part out by now.
“I want you too,” she says, looking at me with desire in her eyes.
I kiss her passionately, devouring her with my mouth while placing my hand on the back of her neck.
She turns back around. We both know what’s about to happen.
I gently push her down. She places her hands on the mattress and grips the sheets.
Her ass in the air like this reminds me of the first time I saw her.
Or how my fantasies sometimes find their way into reality.
I follow the line of her spine with my fingers, from her neck down to her ass, and into her slit.
With my other hand, I grip her hip. Nora trembles, quivers, and makes the most delightful sounds.
My fingers slide in and out of her; she’s so wonderfully wet and ready for me.
I feel her breathing quicken and her moans grow louder.
My fingers retreat, their work done, as I guide myself to her entrance.
I linger there, teasing her with slow, deliberate thrusts, savoring the anticipation.
Then, in one fluid motion, I press deep into her, feeling her warmth welcome me completely.
“Andreas!” she cries out.
Nora falls forward, her hands can’t hold on anymore, and she now rests on her forearms and elbows. Perfect. After the first few powerful thrusts, I slide in and out slowly a few times, hoping to drive her wild and not finish too soon myself.
“Andreas, I can’t take it anymore!”
In response, I thrust hard, deep, and rhythmically into her.
She lets out short moans, and I know she’ll come immediately if I touch her.
One hand still rests on her hip, while my other moves down to her magical little spot.
Her body shudders the moment I find it. I increase the pressure from both sides and feel Nora tighten around me.
“Let go, Nora,” I whisper breathlessly in her ear.
And as if she needed my permission, she comes three seconds later, screaming and trembling. Unable to hold back myself, I follow her, feeling a tornado race through my veins. I pump through her aftershocks until every last bit is spilled inside her. We collapse on the mattress, tangled together.
“Andreas?” she squeaks.
“Hmmm?” I’m not quite back to earth yet.
“You’re kind of crushing me,” she says, gasping for air.
“Oh, sorry!”
I pull out of her and remove the condom. I shift my weight, roll onto my side, and look at her. She turns too, and our eyes meet. She has that lovely blush on her cheeks again. I could look at her for hours.
“Can I hold you?” she asks shyly, her light brown eyes peeking out from under her long lashes.
“Babe, I just…” My voice trails off. “Of course you can hold me,” I say hoarsely.
I know why she’s asking this. Cuddling after sex isn’t usually in my playbook, and she knows that.
But with Nora, so many things are different.
This can be added to the list. She nestles close to me, resting her head under mine, and holds me.
I don’t know what shampoo she uses, but she reminds me of a beautifully scented flower field in spring.
Next thing I know, I’ll be writing a poetry collection.
I surprise myself by not immediately running away screaming, because this is quite…
intimate. I don’t want her to get the wrong ideas.
Ideas about little houses, gardens, and picket fences. I clear my throat.
“How about a shower?” I ask.
This doesn’t count as running away, right?
She lets go of me gently.
“You go first, I’ll stay here for five more minutes, if that’s okay?”
She purrs like a kitten, but I suspect she might still be feeling a bit of a hangover.
“Stay here.” I kiss her forehead. “The bathroom’s over there?” I point to the only door in this attic room.
“Yes, towels in the closet, shampoo in the shower, you’ll find it.”
After my shower, I see that she’s fallen back asleep and decide to let her lie there a little longer.
I go downstairs to make coffee and look for something to eat.
As I take the eggs out of the fridge, I realize I’m making breakfast. This is really happening.
If you’re hungry, you eat, right? And I’m starving after the short night and intense morning.
Nora’s house is beautiful. Small, but beautifully renovated and cozy.
She clearly knows her stuff. The living room and kitchen are on the first floor, above her business.
There’s a large sliding door leading to a nice, spacious terrace with stairs down to a long, narrow garden.
The garden could use some love, but the interior of the house is fit for a magazine.
Her kitchen cabinets are dark gray, paired with light gray tiles as a backsplash, golden faucets, and a speckled white composite countertop.
The beautiful round antique table surprisingly complements the modern white chairs. I search for a pan, plates, cutlery…