He bit her earlobe and whispered, “Have you ever come when someone sucked your nipples?”
His words sounded wildly erotic. Mel wasn’t sure it was possible, but she certainly wasn’t against trying. She moaned and shook her head. She could hear the smile in his voice when he spoke again.
“Why don’t we try that,” he hissed in her ear. “First I’ll suck your nipples, and then I’ll fuck you.”
Oh God. She shouldn’t be so turned on by these words, but she was. Then the sensation of his tongue on her neck dissolved that thought. His kisses moved over her shoulder and down to her breast. He shifted, taking both her wrists in one hand. He used his other hand to lift her breast to his mouth. He played with her nipple, slowly licking it, teasing it until it grew almost painfully stiff. Then he scraped his teeth over it and bit down. Mel cried out in dizzying, sharp pleasure.
She felt him stiffen against her, and he pushed his hips into hers, radiating currents of want. She was close. Mel gasped as he sucked her hard into his mouth—maybe it was possible. She met Henrik’s eyes; they were as intense as they were alive. He kissed her with a slow, aching tenderness that surprised her. Then he breathed words into her mouth.
“Do you want… more?”
Mel closed her eyes and nodded. But he didn’t move, and his voice was darker.
“Tell me.”
Oh God. He wanted her to beg him, and she didn’t care anymore.
“Yes. More. Please, Henrik,” she moaned.
She opened her eyes and saw a glimpse of triumph in his face. He found her other nipple with his mouth and began to tease it, slowly again, drawing out the pleasure once more. But this time, as he flicked her nipple with his tongue, he thrust his hips against her, his erection rubbing right there. She cried out, arching, bombarded with sensation. And he did it again. And again. And on the last thrust, he bit down.
Everything disappeared as her body exploded in a sharp rush of euphoria. Only sensation was left. She called out his name as dark waves of ecstasy radiated through her. He held her close, easing her down as she gasped for air.
Gradually, she came back to herself, to the sound of the water sloshing at the sides of the boat, and to Henrik’s hard body above hers. She looked up at the grim, tense line of his mouth. Oh. She really didn’t know if her body could handle anything more.
He seemed to read her thoughts, and he responded with a voice rough and erotic.
“I know what you like,” he whispered.
With one hard thrust, he was inside of her, pushing her up along the cushions. She cried out in surprise, and he thrust again. Oh my. Was this possible, so soon? The sensation was raw, and she squeezed her legs together, trying to contain some of the pleasure that threatened to carry her away.
“Oh, fuck,” Henrik hissed, and he shifted so he was on his knees. His eyes were heavy with desire and pleasure, and he clenched his teeth as if he were hanging onto the last threads of control. He took hold of her thighs and pushed harder into her. It was too much. She began to climax in unrelenting waves as he continued, stroking deeper and deeper, until he stilled in one, final thrust. From somewhere far away, she heard his cry. He lowered himself on top of her, and she disappeared under the darkness of his body.
Chapter 17
She had no idea how much time had passed. She might have fallen asleep. Henrik had rolled onto his side and taken her with him so she was still flush against him. Her body felt heavy and sore, and she hadn’t even tried to move it yet. She shifted, and she felt Henrik’s arms tighten around her.
“That was the hottest, most erotic experience of my life,” he said, resting his forehead on hers.
She nodded against him. Nothing came close to the kind of pleasure that their bodies sparked together. But it was more than just pleasure. They could push at the boundaries, do and say things she wouldn’t accept anywhere else. This was why people gave up their comfortable lives, risked their careers and marriages and everything else that was important—for another taste of the ecstasy in a connection like this.
He closed his eyes and stroked her cheek.
“What is it, Henrik?”
He frowned and shook his head.
“Please,” she whispered.
He looked away.
“I don’t want you to leave.”
This simple statement sat at the heart of their struggles. The feeling had started back in his cabin, grown on the boat deck, and it had now played out in this little cabin. What came next? Part of her wanted to soothe his uncertainty, and part of her wanted to probe it further. He revealed so few clues about his emotions.
She ran her hand through his dark, thick hair, smoothing it off his face.
“Why are you thinking about that?”
Henrik’s mouth tightened into a small frown, and his eyes were guarded.
“The more time we’re together, the more I think about it,” he said.
Mel stroked his face. Their relationship did have an ethereal quality to it, as if they were suspended in time, in place, outside the usual boundaries of the world. The island created this feeling, she suspected, and they’d have to leave the island when the summer ended. Beyond that boundary, she couldn’t see anything. Is this what he meant?
“There are many ways to get hurt, Melanie. You, of all people, should know that.”
Yes, she did.
“But why now?”
Henrik shook his head.
“Let’s drop it. You asked and I answered, but I don’t want to talk about it.”
There was something he was holding back, but Mel could see she wasn’t going to get anywhere in this discussion. Not today, at least. His forehead was creased, and he watched her carefully. She brought her hands over the tense muscles of his shoulders and down his arms.
At that moment, she was suddenly tired of all the uncertainty between them. Just because he had declared he wasn’t cut out for relationships didn’t mean that she couldn’t tell him how she felt.
“I don’t want to leave you,” she whispered, pulling his head down to kiss his soft lips. “I want to be with you. But I don’t know what that means.”
He stilled against her, his expression unreadable. She swallowed hard. This was a mistake. Whatever she had done was now irreversible, and she could feel the pit in her stomach grow as she waited for his response. She had just laid herself bare for him, and his reaction wasn’t comforting. But what more had she expected?
She tried to move out from under him, but his arms were unrelenting. Mel gritted her teeth. He had already made his point—he could make her submit to him.
“Don’t.”
The sharp edge to his voice flamed her irritation. Was he going for humiliation now? But when he spoke again, his voice was gentle.
“I can see you’re unhappy, and though it’s certainly something I’ve done, I’m not sure what that is. But you can’t just say something like that and then leave. You need to give me a chance to respond.”
Mel saw the wariness in his eyes, and she nodded. Apparently convinced that she was no longer going to flee, he loosened one of his hands, exposing her to the cool air of the cabin. The waves gurgled against the side of the boat, slowly rocking them.
“Melanie, I told you I don’t know what it means to have a real relationship with someone. Everything about this summer feels so out of my experience but so good. So, so good. But I can’t be this person you want, even though I’m trying like hell to give him to you right now.”
Mel stared at Henrik. What did he mean when he said that he couldn’t be this person? She ran her fingers over the creases in his forehead, trying to ease them away.
“How do you know you’re not the person I want, just as you are?”
“I don’t think I’m capable of love, selflessness, putting what you want before what I want. And I won’t give you any less.”
He wasn’t looking at her anymore. He had closed his eyes, as if to cont
ain some of the emotion that his words stirred up. But he was trying.
Mel squeezed his hand and pulled herself closer to him. Her body was flush with his once again, her legs twined with his, her breasts against his chest. She felt him stir against her. This was the way she knew to meet him. Her body connected to his on another level, one that she didn’t understand. She kissed his neck and felt his tight muscles ease against hers. He was back with her again. Mel pulled away so she could see his face again.
“How do you know what will happen?”
He was still at first. Then he squeezed her hand and slowly brought it to his lips.
“Melanie.”
His voice was so soft now. She waited for him to continue.
“Frankly, any relationship I’ve had has been mostly about sex, not emotion, and that includes my marriage. I’ve tried, but I just don’t know how to have more. I’ve spent my entire adult life trying to avoid winding up like my father. The more my mother backed away from him, the more he tried to make her do what he wanted.”
Mel watched his face carefully, trying to follow his logic. But the nagging jealousy was distracting. Sex with Henrik was far better than she had imagined sex could ever be. Was this what he’d had with his ex-wife, too? The idea sat in the icy pit of her stomach.
She watched the muscles of his arm flex as he ran his hand over her arm. Despite the intensity of their conversation and the uneasy swirl of emotions inside her, his unconscious display of affection was distracting. She still felt the same, deep want for him. Would this feeling fade after a while? It seemed impossible right now.
She led a trail with her hand, stroking and then kissing the stubble on his jaw, the tender skin on his throat, the hard muscles that rose across his shoulders, trying to absorb some of his pain, to relieve him of the sadness he had carried for all these years, even just a little of it. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held him until she felt his body soften into hers.
He pulled her against him and buried his head in her hair. He released her, and she watched his eyes harden again. He was going to tell her something, and the look on his face said she wasn’t going to like it. What else was there?
“Melanie, remember the first time we kissed? God, I wanted you so much. It was all I could think about for days. I thought the feeling was so intense just because I was so close to you every day. I thought the feeling would go away if I could just get you into bed. That’s how it is for me. Sex is enough.”
Mel shivered at the distance in his voice, in his words. His burst of openness was taking a darker turn, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear any more. But he wasn’t finished.
“You said you want to be with me, but I don’t think you know what you’re saying. I want you to know.”
Henrik took a deep breath and then continued.
“When I kissed you, I knew this felt different. I walked away that day and again on the dock because I wanted more. Because I finally understood why my father wouldn’t let my mother go. Even that day, I wanted more of you, more than just sex. And I still do.”
Henrik pulled her body up against his growing erection as if to drive home his point, and despite his revelations, Mel felt her body awaken to his again. As if this were the best way they knew how to communicate. Her heart thumped.
He pulled back a little to study her face, and he spoke the answer to her unspoken question.
“I’m going to do something worse than what your father did to your mother, Melanie. I’m going to do what my father did to my mother. You and I have been together on the island, away from real life.” His face twisted into a scowl at these last words. “But no matter what happens between us, we can’t stay there forever. When we’re out with the rest of the world, I’m going to ruin this.”
He shifted so she was under him again. Mel could feel his arousal jutting against her, but he made no move to do anything about it. Instead, he stroked her cheek with his thumb and studied her. As if he were saying goodbye, she realized.
“I’m sorry, Melanie,” he whispered, brushing his lips over hers. “I’m sorry.”
“But you’re in control of what you do, Henrik,” she said, frowning. “You might not be able to control how you feel, but you can choose how you react. You can choose to have a real relationship, just like I can.”
Mel could hear the bitterness in her voice, but she didn’t care. She closed her eyes and took a breath, trying to figure out how she felt after hearing how pessimistic he sounded about the possibility of a future. But when she opened her eyes again, she found a small, inexplicable smile on his face.
“You’re right. And I also chose to keep coming back to your cabin every day for work and every night to lie down beside you again. Because no matter how fucked up I am, you make me feel like there is a chance that things could be different.”
He kissed her again, but this time his lips lingered a little longer.
“Because I want you like nothing I’ve ever, ever wanted before. And there’s a chance, however small, that you want me, too. Even now, you haven’t left yet. And that gives me hope.”
Without warning, Mel’s eyes welled up. Was there hope for them? Could two people with so much sadness in their pasts find happiness together? A tear trickled down the side of her face, and Henrik brushed it away with the rough tip of his thumb. But the tenderness of his gesture only released more tears. She closed her eyes and felt Henrik’s lips brush against her wet eyelashes. Then he kissed the trail of tears down her cheek.
The mix of sensations—the softness of his lips, the warmth of his breath and the rough scratch of his unshaven chin—were both comforting and arousing. At that moment, Mel wanted whatever it was that he was offering. Whatever the outcome. She wrapped her legs around him and heard a groan rise from deep within him. Despite all the reasons he had given her to run, she hung onto this connection, one without words but just as real as anything else.
“Let me, Melanie,” he whispered. “Please.”
Mel wasn’t sure if he meant the physical act that her body so clearly craved or if he meant more, but she nodded.
“Yes, Henrik,” she breathed. “Yes.”
When he entered her, slow and full, her cry merged with his in a burst of longing and desire. Her gaze met his, and neither looked away. She struggled to keep her eyes open for every thrust, wanting every piece of him that he was willing to give.
Chapter 18
“Grandma?”
“Mel, is that you? I thought you were still in Sweden.”
“I am. Phones work over here, too.”
Mel heard a distinct hmmph from the other end.
“You don’t need to get smart with me.”
Mel could hear the smile in her grandmother’s voice and laughed. Despite all evidence to the contrary, her grandmother clearly still treated her like a child.
“I’m not being smart, Grandma. I didn’t even know my cell phone would work here until right before I left.”
Her grandmother’s laugh turned into a fit of coughing.
“Are you okay, Grandma?”
“Yes, yes…” Her voice trailed off in another flurry of coughs.
Mel imagined her at her kitchen table, waving away the question with her cigarette. Alone, but definitely not lonely.
She had left her husband at a time when single women were outcasts and raised Mel’s mother entirely on her own. Mel had met her grandfather a few times at her grandmother’s home, and surprisingly, the two seemed to get along quite well. When Mel had asked about the divorce, her grandmother had simply answered, “I was tired of being married.”
Her grandmother’s coughing fit subsided.
“You’re not going to nag me about going to the doctor, are you, Mel? Your mother already took care of that.”
“Of course not,” said Mel, though that was exactly what she had been about to do.
The line went quiet. Mel tried to think of a way to ask about he
r father—a way that would get a straightforward answer. But before she could come up with anything, her grandmother spoke again.
“Mel, as much as I love to hear from you, I think you probably have a reason for spending good money to call me all the way from Sweden today.”
Mel took a deep breath.
“I found my school photos. With your writing on the back.”
She waited, but her grandmother said nothing.
“You sent them to him, didn’t you?”
“Mel—”
The voice at the other end broke off. When her grandmother began to speak again, for the first time that Mel could remember, she sounded uncertain.
“I guess I should have known he’d keep the photos, that you’d find them. But if your mother found out that I sent them, she’d cut me out of her life. Even now.”
Mel wasn’t sure she was following what her grandmother was saying. She swallowed.
“It was my mother that cut off contact with my father, not the other way around?”
For a moment, Mel didn’t know if she had spoken the words or if they had just played inside her head. But her grandmother answered.
“I don’t know exactly what happened, Mel. Your mother never told me the whole story. But one day he was gone, and when I tried to ask, she told me I’d never see you again if I had any contact with Björn.”
Her mother? The woman who couldn’t let go of her father’s memory was the same person who had kept Mel away from him? How was this possible? What was her mother thinking? That if her mother couldn’t have him, then Mel shouldn’t, either? Mel was jumping furiously from one conclusion to the next, and she was thankful that an entire ocean lay between her mother and her right now. Otherwise she’d definitely say some things she’d regret.
Stockholm Diaries, Melanie Page 17