A Nordic King(63)

I hear the fabric of my blouse tear as he pulls the collar back and then his mouth is at my bare shoulder, biting into my skin.

I cry out from the shock, a jumbled mess of feelings, bracing my hands against the wall to steady us. One of his hands slips down in front of me, sliding over my belly until it reaches the hem of my skirt and tugs it up my thighs.

His other hand goes behind me, to my ass. I feel it bump against me, then hear the buckle of his belt being undone, the sound of his pants being unzipped, the harsh, distinctive, thrilling noise filling the room.

Holy fuck.

Is he going to fuck me from behind, here against this wall?

Before I can even prepare myself, a knock on the door shoots between us like a shotgun blast, blowing the moment to smithereens.

Shit.

“Fuck,” he whispers. He stops, breathing hard, and yells, his voice coarse. “Hvem er det?”

“Det er mig.” Maja’s voice.

“Hvad vil du?” He rests his forehead against my back, trying to steady his breath.

“Jeg vil gerne tale med dig,” she says. She wants to speak with him but it doesn’t sound like there’s any trouble.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Aksel swears. He straightens up, and my back feels cold without him there. I quickly turn around until I’m leaning against the wall. If I weren’t, I’d fall to the ground. My knees are shaking.

My heart is pounding hard, my breath too flighty to catch. I stare at him with raised brows, not in just the “what were we just about to do” but in the “where the fuck should I hide?”

He nods at me, I guess to stay where I am, pressed against the wall, and quickly does up his pants before I can catch a glimpse of anything. He straightens his shirt and jacket though I’m not sure how he’s going to hide the flush on his face.

He takes in a deep breath and walks over to the door, opening it a crack and peering out. “Ja?”

I can’t see Maja, though if she stepped into his office or looked around the door, she’d see me. She tells him that Clara is requesting a bedtime story from him.

He nods, tells her he’ll be right there. Then he leaves the door open and comes over to me.

He stares down at me with an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I have to go do this,” he whispers. He gestures to the door. “Wait a few minutes and then sneak out. I’ll make sure no one sees you.”

Sneaking out. Oh my god, the reality of what we’d just done, what almost happened, hits me like a sledgehammer. I’m speechless, breathless, watching as he strides back toward the door.

“Wait,” I squeak.

With one hand on the door, he glances at me expectantly.

“Am I still fired?” I ask.

Another quick smile. “Fired?” he repeats. “No. You’re not fired.”

And then he’s gone.

I hear him walk down the hall.

I spend the next few minutes counting down and trying to calm my racing heart.

When I’m sure enough time has passed and that my knees aren’t shaking anymore, I check that the coast is clear. Then I head out of his office and to my room, closing the door.

I immediately go to the small bottle of medicinal Underberg Schnaps in my room and down it in one go, then sit on the edge of the bed and try to think.

What have we just done?

What does any of it mean?

And what the bloody hell happens next?





Chapter 15





Aurora





The next morning my alarm goes off and I feel as if I could sleep forever. It doesn’t help that it’s chilly outside the blankets, my nose practically frozen.

“Can’t you afford heat in this damn house?” I grumble to no one in particular before closing my eyes and trying to go back to sleep. For a few moments I’m lulled back into oblivion until I remember.

Aksel.

Last night.

Everything.

My eyes fly open.

Holy shit.

That actually happened.

I mean, it actually happened.

It wasn’t a dream.

Those were actually his lips against mine.

That was his cock pressed against my hip.

Those were his rough words, calling me a rare and beautiful thing.

I’m breathless all over again, my heart doing flips at the memories I still feel on my skin, forever imprinted.

I can’t go back to sleep now. Even the cold doesn’t bother me.

I get out of bed and grab my robe and shuffle into the bathroom, staring at myself in the mirror, to see if I look any different. I feel different in every way, like something inside me has been unlocked, a lock I’d been unsuccessfully trying to pick for a very long time.

My skin is pale, though there are more freckles because of my week in the Canary Islands, but my eyes seem brighter and darker at the same time, my hair has knots in it from when he fisted it, and my lips are this roughed, bruised pink, the kind of pink that comes from too much kissing.

I run my fingertips over them, staring at my reflection in awe, a smile slowly stretching across my face.

My heart bursts.

It happened.

I let the feeling wash over me, electric, because I know that soon reality will rear her ugly head. It will remind me that though Aksel kissed me, nothing else has really changed.