Santa's Secret (11 page)

They both groaned, and he closed his eyes,
enjoying the sensation of her tight around him, hot, wet and swollen.

“
Vittu,
” he mumbled, withdrawing a
little before pushing forwards again, deeper this time.

She kissed him. “What does that mean?”

“Fuck.”

She laughed, and he did too, before kissing
her and beginning to move properly, rhythmically plunging in and out of her hot
body that welcomed him and spurred him on with its wet slipperiness.

“God, Eva, you are so beautiful.” He
groaned, struggling to hold onto his self-control. He cupped her breast and
lifted the nipple, lowering his mouth to it, and teased it with his tongue
until she sighed and met him thrust for thrust, her own climax obviously
building again.

“Rudi,” she gasped. “Oh my God…”

He worried that he was thrusting too hard,
pushing too deeply. Not everyone liked it rough, and he didn’t want to hurt or
scare her. He tried to ease off, but to his surprise she hooked her ankles
behind his back and tightened her thighs to encourage him to thrust even
deeper.

“More,” she whispered.

And that pushed him over the edge. He
wanted to hold on and watch her come again, but he’d denied himself this for
too long, and she was too wonderful, and his body took over from his brain and
decided it couldn’t wait any longer.

He picked up his speed, let instinct
override intention, and basically just lost the plot, overcome by feeling,
emotion and sensation, filled with the touch and smell and taste of her until
he couldn’t think of anything else. He was overwhelmed by a basic need to
possess her, consumed by a fierce desire to wipe her mind of her husband, so
she could think of him, only him. He swept his tongue into her mouth even as he
plunged into her, and was rewarded with her deep, guttural groan of pleasure. Encouraged,
he kissed down her neck to her breasts, sucked her nipples hard, and her nails
bit sharply into his back in response, a sweet pleasure-pain contrast that was
like the cool air outside the duvet on their hot skin, the hardness of him
inside the velvet softness of her.

She lifted her arms above her head and
relaxed her thighs, and her look up at him—with dilated pupils and lips swollen
from kissing—drove him to the edge. It was as if she had let go of the final
remnants of her reserve, as if she was saying
I’m yours, just take me, do
with me as you will.
It was possibly the most erotic moment of his entire
life, that moment of abandonment, of a woman giving herself to him completely,
and it was his undoing.

Heat rushed up through him, his muscles
tightened, and he groaned as he spilled into her. He surprised himself by
resenting the barrier of the condom, wanting with a primeval urge to flood her
with his seed. How basic and feral and fucking wonderful the act was,
especially this moment, when his attempts to be gentle and considerate were
overridden by the thrust of his hips as he pushed forward, driving into her, no
longer able to control his movements.

Only as the final pulses died did he feel
her clenching around him, and he continued to thrust slowly for her, drawing
out her orgasm and heightening her pleasure as he ground his hips against hers.

Gradually, they came back down to earth.
Still inside her, he waited for his heart rate to slow, the race of it mirrored
with hers against his ribcage as he slowed to mild, tender thrusts. He gave her
long kisses, tasting her, enjoying her, gentle again now he was in control, and
making the most of that beautiful moment, of the afterglow of passion, full of
warmth and affection for this woman who had understood what he wanted, what he
needed, and had given herself so absolutely, so completely to him.

Their heartbeats slowed, their kisses grew
softer, and outside, the icy flakes fluttered down on the fields, coating
everything in a thick layer of virgin white.

Eva lay still, eyes closed. Beneath the
covers, her skin stuck to Rudi’s, even though outside the air was cool.

I’m not surprised I’m so hot
, she thought, running a hand slowly down his long, smooth back,
damp with sweat.
He set me alight.

She’d never had sex like it. Damon had been
her one and only experience with lovemaking. He’d been attentive enough and
most times they’d had sex she’d had an orgasm, but he hadn’t been over-zealous
on foreplay, and although he had never voiced it in so many words, his lack of
zeal when it came to oral sex had convinced her he wasn’t keen.

He’d never treated her like the man who had
just…well…worshipped her, for want of a better word. Who had put her pleasure
first, then possessed her, claimed her so completely that she hadn’t held back
even a tiny bit of herself at the end. They’d truly joined, she thought; for
one moment it was as if they’d become one, a real meeting of the heart and
soul.

Then, as he shifted on top of her, she
realised how foolish she sounded. They’d had sex. Really, really good sex, it
was true, but
let’s not start acting as if this is written in the stars.

He kissed her, a soft kiss, like a
snowflake landing on her lips. “
Armas?
”

Reluctantly, she opened her eyes. She
wasn’t sure what she expected to see on his face. Impatience, maybe; relief, an
Okay, we’ve done it, time for you to go back to your own cabin now.

Instead, she found a pair of bright blue
eyes looking into hers with such warmth and affection that it melted her heart.

“Hello,” he said, and kissed her again.

“Mmm, hello,” she replied when he finally
lifted his head.

“Am I hurting you?” He was still inside
her, and gave a little movement of his hips, stirring sensations where she’d
thought she’d never have the energy to feel anything ever again.

“Mmm, no.” She slipped her arms around his
waist. “It’s lovely.”

So he kissed her, and nuzzled her neck, and
murmured little Finnish words in her ear that she didn’t understand but that
sounded lovely and complimentary, and when he finally withdrew and moved away,
they both sighed with disappointment.

He disposed of the condom, then came back
to take her in his arms. Rolling her onto her side away from him so her back
was against his chest, he propped himself up on the pillows and pulled the
duvet close around them, and they curled up to look out at the snow.

She nestled into his embrace, comforted
that he hadn’t asked her to leave, or got up to make a cup of tea or even
rolled over to sleep. He continued to press light kisses on her shoulder, then
up her neck when she tipped her head to the side, and she giggled as he nibbled
her earlobe.

“Stop that,” she said. “You’ll get me going
again.”

“Oh, Eva. You little temptress.”

She laughed. “I love the way you make me
feel like a siren. I’ve been a mother for so long, I thought I’d forgotten how
to be sexy. Nappies, bibs, dummies and sippy cups are all I’ve thought about
for years.”

“You are still very much a woman.” He slid
his hand down over her ribs, her waist, the swell of her bottom. “I can vouch
for that.”

She turned onto her back to look at him,
wanting to reassure herself that she wasn’t dreaming—there really was a Viking
in her bed. “Are you for real?”

He waved his hand in the air. “No, I am
just an illusion.”

“It wouldn’t surprise me. I’m not normally
this lucky.”

He just smiled at her and settled more
comfortably, propping his head on a hand, continuing to trace patterns on her
skin beneath the covers.

Her gaze lingered on him, noting his
ruffled dark-blond hair, a tiny, barely-noticeable scar on his cheekbone
probably obtained as a child falling off a bike or something, the way the hairs
curled very slightly on his chest. His blue eyes had a touch of orange in them,
around the edges of the irises.

His smile widened at her continued stare.
“What?”

“I was just thinking that it’s strange… I
know so little about you.”

He shrugged. “What do you want to know? I
am an open book.”

“I don’t know,” she said with a laugh.
“Where to start? How old are you?”

“Thirty-two.”

“Both parents Finnish?”

“Yes. My father died a few years ago, heart
attack. Frieda—my mother—lives very close to me in Helsinki, and she looks
after Isabel a lot when I am away.”

Eva nodded. “And you were married to…”

“Vanessa. She is half-English.”

“And she treated you terribly, so you left
her.” She’d meant it as a joke, a light-hearted way of finding out more, but
the way his smile faded told her she’d hit close to home.

 All he said, though, was, “It was an
amicable separation.”

She touched his face, stroked her thumb
along his cheekbone. “Were you terribly hurt?”

He turned his head to kiss her palm, then
sighed. “To be perfectly honest, we probably should not have got married in the
first place. We met at a function, and she is very beautiful and elegant, and
played the part very well, you know? Comfortable in social situations, a good
hostess. She wanted the money, the position, and I needed someone to make me
look good.” He ran a hand through his hair. “That sounds terrible. There was
more to it than that, of course.”

“It’s okay, I understand.”

“I did love her—very much. But after a few
years, when Isabel was three or four, I grew tired of the parties and the
socialising. I wanted to develop the business, to work. I began to travel more,
and she was busy at home with her friends and her job—she is an actress, mostly
theatre work. We began to lead very separate lives. We grew apart, and when we
were together, we argued more until we realised there was not really anything
left worth fighting for.”

She studied his face, sensing there was
more. “You met someone else?”

He smiled. “No, she did.”

“That must have been hard.”

He sighed and his gaze drifted to the
window, to the snow falling more thickly now, lining the sills with white. “I
walked in on them. I had come early from a trip. Isabel was at my mother’s. I
had suspected, actually, but to see them together, in our bed…” His jaw knotted.

“Oh, how awful. What did you do?”

He looked back at her. To her surprise, his
lips curved. “I punched the guy.”

Eva giggled. “You didn’t.”

“Knocked him flat.”

She shook her head. “I can understand why.
It must have been terribly hurtful to see your wife with someone else.”

“To be honest? By that point I think it was
more to do with my manly pride, such as it is. I already knew my marriage was
over, but to sleep with another man, in my bed? That is just…how do you say…”

“Taking the piss?”

He laughed. “Yes.”

She trailed her fingers down his chest.
“And since Vanessa?”

“Work, work, work.” His eyes met hers,
filled with smiles.

“Truly?” A warm glow spread through her.

“Truly. I have not even come close to
seeing anyone else.”

“Then why…?” She knew she was pushing for a
compliment, but couldn’t seem to help herself, too thrilled with the thought
that he’d not been with anyone else until he met her.

He bent to kiss her. “Want me to show you
again?”

Her eyes widened. “Again?” She lifted her
head to look at the clock, worried that they were going to be late to pick up
the kids, then realised there was still over an hour left.

He kissed her shoulder. “Normally I would
say no way, but Eva, your skin is like silk, and you smell so heavenly.” He
rolled her onto her side again and nestled close behind her, and began to
stroke her, fingers skating down her body, circling her breasts, teasing the
sensitive skin. “And enough about me. Tell me about you.”

“What do you want to know?” She spoke
dreamily, watching the snow outside, thinking how beautiful it was.

“Where do you live?”

“A flat in London. Not far from Damon’s parents.”

“But you are from New Zealand originally?”
His fingers brushed her nipples, and she caught her breath.

“Yes. A Kiwi. My mother died when I was
very young. My father brought me and my sisters up. He was very strict. I
didn’t get out much and I was very shy. Damon is…was…my only lover.”

His fingers stopped for a brief moment,
then continued circling. “Well, that explains a lot.”

She blinked. “What do you mean?”

He shifted so she leaned back against him,
pulling her thighs apart, and stroked down her stomach, into her hair and then
even lower. “You were…tight.” He slid his fingers into her, as if to prove his
point.”

Her cheeks burned. “Rudi!”

“What?”

“I…oh my God…I don’t know what to say.”

He chuckled, his fingers sliding so easily
through her that she knew she must still be swollen and wet. “You are
embarrassed after what we have just done?” He kissed her cheek, laughing to
find it hot.

“You like teasing me,” she observed, a
little grumpily.

“I do.” He brought his hand up to cup her
breast. “Like this.” He caught her nipple between his thumb and forefinger and
tugged it gently.

She closed her eyes. “Mmm.”

He traced his tongue over her shoulder. She
shivered as the cooler air trailed over the wet skin, and he chuckled. “You
have the most magnificent breasts. I love the way these change.” He reached
down to pluck her other nipple, which had tightened from the cold.

Her lids fluttered lazily, and then flew open
at the sight of two people walking through the fields. They were a long way
away, a couple out for a stroll, but it gave her a shock to think that if they
looked over, they would almost certainly be able to see her and Rudi in bed.
“Eek!”

He looked up. “They are miles away,” he
scoffed.

“Rudi! The light is on—they’ll be able to
see us if they look over!”

He leaned across her and switched off the lamp,
plunging them into the permanent semi-twilight. Then he pulled the cover over
their heads. “There.”

She giggled. “I feel so naughty. I’m going
to be embarrassed walking back into the Little Elves room—I feel as if what
we’ve done is written all over my face.”

He snorted. “I am sure they are well aware
what the parents get up to with their spare two hours. I bet there are couples
all over the complex doing exactly the same as us.”

“You think?” She arched her back as he
continued to arouse her, fingers sliding through her, teasing, tantalising. “Mmm.”

“I do.”

“It’s a nice thought. To think of people making
love in the comfort of their cabins while it snows outside.” It was getting
harder to concentrate, Rudi’s insistent, firm touch beginning to make her heart
race. “I love it here.”

She thought she detected a brief pause in
his movements, but before she could say anything he stroked her again, and
ripples of pleasure began to rise within her. At that point, however, he
stopped, moving behind her. She was about to complain when she realised he was
reaching for another condom, and held back her protest, watching over her
shoulder as he tore the packet open, then rolled the condom on.

She went to turn to face him, but he
pressed her forwards instead, onto her front. Heart pounding, her breaths
coming fast now, she settled on her elbows and waited for him to move behind
her. He kissed her neck, then guided himself into her.

“Oh…” She lifted her hips and let him sink in
deep. The sensation of him filling her, thick and hard, all the way up, was
amazing. “Oh God, Rudi, that feels good…”

He pulled the huge duvet over them,
closeting them in warmth and darkness, and she became all sensation, aware only
of the slide of him inside her, his hands on her breasts, his lips on the
sensitive place behind her ear, his breath hot on her skin.

“
Vittu
, Eva, you are so soft…” He
groaned and thrust forward harder, and she gasped. “Sorry,” he said immediately,
pulling back. “Too hard?”

“No. God, no. Again.”

Mumbling something else in Finnish that she
was sure contained a swear word or two, he did so, and she exclaimed and
dropped her forehead onto her hands, clutching hold of the pillow as he began
to move rhythmically. It felt as if he went deeper with every thrust, and she
spread her legs and raised her hips to give him better access. Steadying
himself on one hand, he tucked the other beneath her ribs to cup her breasts,
groaning with pleasure as they swung with each of his thrusts.

She would have been embarrassed by the
animal nature of the position, which naturally made her submissive and at his
mercy, but it was too damn lovely. The way he was taking her, claiming her,
growing steadily more feral and rough as his body took over once again from the
gentleman he obviously tried to be, was so sexy she knew she couldn’t last
long.