A Secret in Her Father's House, A Pregnancy Neither Can Hide novel · Chapter 2 of 24
Chapter 2: Yes, Out Loud
Alana says yes and they sleep together, then she swears it never happens again; at dawn she hears Henrik tell her mother she is fine.
Alana did not tell him to go back to bed.
She sat in the dark with the sheet around her waist and looked at the man in her doorway.
"Say something," Henrik said.
"I don't want you to go."
"Say what you want, Alana. All of it. I'm not guessing."
Her mouth was dry.
She had run budgets for eight-figure buildings.
She had fired a contractor in front of his whole crew.
She could not make her mouth form the word.
"Come here," she said.
"That's not what I asked."
"Yes," she said. "Yes. I want you to come in."
He came in.
He pushed the door shut behind him.
It stuck on the frame, the way he had said it would.
He put his shoulder against it until it clicked.
Then he crossed the room in two steps.
He took her chin in his hand and tipped her face up.
"You listen to me," Henrik said. "You say yes out loud, every time, or I stop. I mean it. I won't do this any other way."
"Yes."
"Good girl."
Heat went through her so fast that her whole body went weak.
He kissed her.
It was not careful.
His mouth was hard and certain, and his stubble scraped her jaw.
He tasted like coffee and salt.
She grabbed his shirt in both fists.
She kissed him back with everything she had refused to think about for six hours.
He made a low sound against her mouth.
Then he pulled the tank top up over her head and threw it somewhere behind him.
He looked at her.
He took his time over it.
Her breasts were heavy and bare in the moonlight from the window.
The moles on her shoulder and ribs stood out dark on her skin.
"Look at you," he said, and his voice cracked in the middle.
She wanted to cover herself.
She didn't.
"Lie back," Henrik said.
She lay back.
He put one knee on the mattress and his hand flat on her sternum.
He pushed her down gently into the sheets.
Then his mouth was on her breast.
He sucked her nipple into the heat of his mouth and ran his tongue over it.
She arched off the bed with a sound she did not know she could make.
"Quiet," he said against her skin. "Sigrid next door sleeps with her window open."
"Then don't stop."
"I wasn't going to."
He moved to the other breast and bit down lightly, and her hand went into his hair and held on.
His other hand slid down her stomach.
He pushed her underwear aside with two fingers and found her wet.
She felt him go still.
"Alana," he said.
"I know."
"You're soaked."
"I know," she said. "I've been like this since the stove."
He swore, softly, and the sound went straight through her.
His fingers slid through her slowly and circled her clit.
She gripped his wrist and could not tell whether she was pulling him away or holding him there.
"Say it," Henrik said.
"Yes."
"Yes what?"
"Yes, touch me. Please."
He pushed two fingers inside her.
She cried out into his shoulder.
He curled them up, steady and deep.
The heel of his hand ground against her clit, and her thighs started to shake.
"That's it," he said. "Let me feel it."
"Henrik."
"Say it again."
"Henrik, I'm going to..."
"Then do it."
She came hard, with her mouth open against his neck.
She clenched around his fingers while he held her through it.
He did not let up until she was limp.
He kissed her temple.
He kissed it twice, tenderly, and she nearly cried, because the tenderness was worse than the rest.
Then he stood and pulled his shirt over his head.
His chest was lean and brown and ridged with muscle.
There was a pale scar under his ribs that she had never asked about.
He pushed his pants down.
He was hard and thick, bigger than she had let herself imagine in the kitchen, and her stomach turned over.
"I'm on the pill," she said, because she was always the one who planned.
"Good," Henrik said. "Take your underwear off."
She took them off.
He climbed over her, and she opened her legs without being told.
He braced one forearm beside her head and guided himself with the other hand.
The head of his cock pressed against her, hot and slick.
"Last chance," he said.
"Yes."
"Look at me."
She looked at him.
He pushed in.
It was slow and full and almost too much.
He stretched her until she gasped.
He stopped halfway with his jaw tight and sweat on his temple.
"Breathe," he said.
She breathed, and he pushed the rest of the way in.
She was full of her father.
The thought came and she did not push it away.
It made her clench around him.
He groaned and dropped his forehead to hers.
"God, Alana. Don't do that. I won't last."
"Then don't last."
He laughed, one short rough breath, and then he moved.
He fucked her slowly at first, in long deep strokes that dragged against everything inside her.
His eyes stayed on her face the whole time.
She hooked her legs around his hips and he went deeper.
The bed knocked softly against the wall.
"Quiet," he said again.
"I can't."
"Then bite me."
She turned her face into his shoulder and bit down on the muscle there.
He drove into her harder.
His hand went under her ass and tilted her up.
The angle hit something that made her see white.
"Yes," she said into his skin. "Yes, there, yes, please..."
"Good girl. Come for me again."
She did.
It broke over her more slowly this time, a long hot pulse that left her shaking.
His rhythm stuttered and fell apart.
"Fuck," Henrik said. "Alana."
He came with a low groan against her throat, buried deep inside her.
She felt every pulse.
Neither of them moved for a long time.
His weight pinned her to the mattress, and she did not want him anywhere else.
Then he rolled onto his back, and the air in the room went cold.
She sat up.
She pulled the sheet to her chest.
The spell broke so fast that it made her dizzy.
"This doesn't happen again," Alana said.
Henrik stared at the ceiling.
"Okay."
"I mean it. It was a mistake, and it was one night, and I'm leaving in three weeks."
"Okay."
"You can't just say okay."
"I said I'd stop if you told me to." He turned his head and looked at her. "You haven't told me to stop."
He picked up his pants and left.
The door stuck behind him until he pulled it open.
She lay awake until the window went grey.
At dawn she crept down for water.
She stopped on the stairs.
Henrik was in the kitchen in the pale light, with his back to her and a phone against his ear.
"She's fine, Janice," he said. "She's sleeping."
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