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.
His pace increased, and she tried to hold on for his climax, but her traitorous body was already tightening, and she couldn’t wait any longer. “Rudi…” She gasped.
“Yes,” he said triumphantly, his deep voice husky in her ear. “Come for me, Eva.” He bent his head and sucked the place where her pulse beat frantically in her neck.
As had happened before, she reached the point where she discarded her last measure of reservation, where embarrassment and shyness were no longer a factor, where she was just a woman making love with a man. She gave herself over to him completely, letting him take her, letting her body have its own way, and cried out as he skilfully brought her to the edge and let her fall.
The orgasm radiated out from inside her, every muscle contracting with exquisite slowness, before the pulses began, hard enough and overwhelming enough to make her exclaim, “Fuck!”
He gave a deep, satisfied growl, then rose up for a final few thrusts before erupting, pushing her down into the pillows as he leaned over her. She let him take his pleasure, enjoying his primeval grunts, his hand gripping her shoulder as his body tightened and jerked and spilled inside her.
He finished, finally, after an orgasm that seemed to go on forever, and collapsed onto her with a half-laugh, half-groan. “Jesus, Eva. You are going to be the death of me, I swear.”
“You started it,” she said, panting, unable to move with his heavy weight pinning her down. “Can’t…breathe…”
She’d expected him to apologise and move, ever the gentleman. Clearly, though, he was still in feral lover mode. He just muttered, “Tough,” and rested his forehead on the pillow. “I do not think I will have the energy to move until Christmas Day.”
She turned her head and looked out at the snow, squashed and happy, feeling the beat of his heart against her back. Was she to be pinned beneath Rudi for the rest of the holiday?
Hmm. She could think of worse things...
Chapter Thirteen
They walked back through the heavy snow together, holding hands, talking about the little things—favourite foods, movies, music, exploring each other’s minds the way they had just explored each other’s bodies.
Rudi felt a swell of contentment as Eva broke out into song, her face alight with happiness. She had a lovely voice, pure and high, and the carol rang out, stirring something within him, a faint memory of his mother singing to him when he was a child.
His boots sank into the new snow, encouraging the memory, conjuring up the smell of pine forests, the feel of numb fingers in gloves, and the taste of beef stew—his favourite meal as a boy, which Frieda had often served him when he came in from the cold.
“Penny for them?” Eva said.
He blinked, realising she’d stopped singing. “Sorry. I was miles away.”
“You looked happy,” she said. “Were you somewhere nice?”
“The happiness is due to you, armas.” He smiled, meaning it. He hadn’t particularly looked forward to this holiday, had even dreaded it a little, worried that Isabel wouldn’t enjoy it and that it would all fall flat, but the reality was turning out to be vastly different.
Eva blushed and rubbed her nose. She’d put on the same clothes she’d had on earlier, brushed her hair with his brush, splashed water on her face and reapplied her lip balm, but all he could see was his mark on her—the swollen lips, the flush in her cheeks, the faint pink smudge on her neck where he’d sucked the soft skin. Naughty boy, she’d said when l
ooking in the mirror, but she’d turned to kiss him passionately, and he sensed she wasn’t devastated. That in itself thrilled him; although she’d borne his attentions happily enough, Vanessa had never found the animal side of sex attractive and had always liked to remain in control, almost as if she played out her life imagining herself always on stage.
But Eva had met and matched him, had been hungry and wild, and when he’d forgotten himself and been a little rough, she’d urged him on instead of reprimanding him, had encouraged him to do more.
He stopped walking, and she went on a few paces before pausing and turning to face him, her eyebrows rising.
“What?” she said.
He walked forwards, put his hands on her hips and pulled her towards him. “I want you.”
Her lips curved. “Again?”
“Once was not enough.”
“Twice,” she corrected, and giggled.
He lowered his head and brushed her lips with his own. “Tomorrow. Same time, same place.”
She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue, and his erection miraculously reappeared, even though twenty minutes before he’d thought he’d never have the energy to get it up again as long as he lived.
“I shouldn’t,” she said.
He rubbed her nose with his own, Inuit style, and kissed her. Long, slow and leisurely, unmindful of anyone walking past. Snow coated them both as they stood there, flakes falling on their hair and shoulders, soft and silent. Then he lifted his head and looked into her eyes, knowing his own would hold the passion already rising inside him.
She swallowed. “Okay,” she squeaked. “If Oscar enjoyed it there, and wants to go back.”
“Of course.”
She gave a little shake of her head. “Honestly.”
He chuckled and tucked her hand into the crook of his arm, then began walking again.
Eva had obviously worried that Oscar had hated every minute of being at the Little Elves and bawled his eyes out the whole time, but when they arrived, she found him seated up the table, covered in glue and glitter, a huge smile on his face as he showed her the cardboard picture of an angel covered in buttons and stars and clumps of sequins.
“It’s beautiful, darling,” she said, bending to give him a kiss.
Rudi grinned at Isabel, who rolled her eyes. He laughed. “Did you have a good time?”
She showed him her creation, a neatly coloured picture of an angel, covered in glitter. “It was fun,” she said. “We played a few games and sang some Christmas songs.”
He changed to Finnish as Eva walked away holding Oscar’s hand. “It wasn’t too much of a drag having to watch over Oscar?”
“No, he’s all right. He’s so terrible at everything that he makes me look brilliant.” She grinned.
“You are brilliant.” He kissed her forehead.
She laughed again, but a faint blush touched her cheeks. He’d pleased her, he thought.
Cool. He’d made both the women in his life happy that day.
Content, he held Izzy’s hand as they walked back to the cabins, smiling at Eva as the two children told them everything that had happened since the moment they walked out of the Centre.
“Would you like to go again tomorrow?” he asked Isabel in English, trying not to laugh as Eva’s eyes widened as if she’d thought he was addressing the question to her.
“Yes!” Isabel said enthusiastically. “Tomorrow they are giving out presents. If that is okay, Daddy?”
“I am sure I can spare you for a little while,” he said, glancing across at Eva. She sent him a reprimanding look, but obviously couldn’t pretend any longer and her lips curved, her eyes lightening with pleasure.
They reached the cabins, and he leaned forwards to kiss her on the cheek. “Thank you for a lovely time,” he said, meaning it.
“Thank you. I enjoyed it.”
They stood facing each other, polite as strangers, but their eyes locked, unsaid words filling the air around them like the fat flakes of snow.
“Can they come to dinner with us, Daddy?” Isabel asked.
He wanted to hug her for suggesting it. He hadn’t wanted to seem too pushy himself, but this way it looked more friendly than desperate. “Well, they may be busy…” But he sent Eva a hopeful glance.
She smiled. “We’d love to.”
He was surprised at the pleasure that filled him. “One hour?”
“Sure. See you then.”
He went into his cabin and closed the door. Isabel took off her coat and boots and then, as usual, crossed to the TV, switched it on and sat in front of it with her colouring book.
Rudi went over to the bed and lay down. He’d pulled the duvet straight and plumped up the pillows, but one of them held a slight indentation where Eva’s head had lain. He rolled onto his side, looking out at the snow, but remembering how he’d curled around her, how warm and soft and sensual she’d been.
Had he made a huge mistake, sleeping with her? On the surface of it, it had been the best decision of his life, because she’d been such fun, and he hadn’t realised how much he’d needed the physical contact after so long alone.
But where did they go now? They were both leaving on Boxing Day. It was hardly a lengthy courtship. Their coming together was like two trains pulling into a station before exiting, bound for opposite ends of the country. And in fact, in their case, the continent. Soon they’d be leaving, and he would never see her again.
He turned onto his back and lay there for a long time, staring at the ceiling.
Around six thirty, his mobile rang, Frieda again, and he flipped it open and answered it, still lying on the bed. “Hello?”
“It’s me,” Frieda said.
“Hi. How are you doing?”
“All good here. Just checking up on you. Not interrupting anything, am I?”
“No,” he said, his lips curving as he thought of what she might have disrupted if she’d rung an hour earlier.
“What are you up to? Working?”
He sighed. “No. I’m lying on the bed.”
“Resting? Dear God. Are you feeling all right?”
He smiled wryly. “No need for sarcasm. I’ve just got in, and I’m going out for dinner at five.”
“Treating Isabel? How nice.”
“Yes.” He hesitated—just long enough for her to pick up on.
“Oh…come on Rudolph, spill the beans.”
“There’s nothing to spill…”
“I know you better than that.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Seriously, it’s nothing important. I’m just meeting up with a friend I’ve made.”
“What’s his name?”
He tried not to laugh. “Oscar.”
“What does he do?”
“Finger paintings, mostly. Some Lego.”
There was a moment of silence. Then she said, “Rudi…”
He sighed. “Her name’s Eva. She’s twenty-six, single mum, her husband died eighteen months ago, and her son’s three. Anything else you’d like to know?”
“I see.” The smile in her voice shone through. “When did you meet her?”
“Only a few days ago. The kids get on well, surprisingly—I think Isabel’s enjoying looking after Oscar, and he’s sort of helping her to join in, you know?” He lifted his head to see whether his daughter was listening, but she was laughing at The Muppets’ Christmas Carol on the TV and didn’t appear to have heard him.
“That’s lovely, darling, I’m so glad you’ve made a friend. I had these awful visions of you sitting there alone eating a mince pie on Christmas Eve.”
He laughed. “No, I’m sure that won’t be happening. We’ll probably spend tomorrow together, I’d imagine.”
“You sound very happy.”
He held a hand up to the ceiling and traced his finger around the shape of the lampshade. “Do I?”
“You like this girl, don’t you?”
“She’s all right.” He smiled.
“Hav
e you had sex yet?”
His eyes widened. “Good grief. Mother!”
“Only I was going to say I hope you have, because I think it would do you a world of good to have a fling.”
He swore softly and pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. “This isn’t happening.”
“You have, haven’t you?” She sounded delighted. “Good for you!”
“I’m going now.”
“What did you do with the kids while you did it?”
“Sat them in front of the TV—it’s quite a large room.”
“Rudi…”
“They went to a kids’ club and had a great time. Why am I telling you this?”
“Because you know I love you and I want the best for you. I haven’t heard you this happy in a long time.”
“Don’t make more of this than it is,” he warned. “She’s not Finnish—she lives in the UK and she’ll be going back there on Boxing Day. It can’t come to anything.”
“It’s Christmas, Rudi. A time for miracles.”
He looked out at the snow, falling thickly now like a curtain across the view of the forest. A wave of sadness came over him. Miracles and magic were for children. They had no place in the world of adults. “I have to go now.”
“Okay, darling. Well, have fun with Eva.”
In spite of himself, he smiled. “I will.”
“Speak tomorrow.” She hung up.
He clipped the phone shut and checked his watch. Twenty minutes left. Enough daydreaming about things that were never going to happen. His work was the only thing that mattered, and he had time to get a few emails written before dinner.
Chapter Fourteen
Forty-five minutes later, they sat at a table in the family restaurant, eating dinner and looking—Eva thought—as if they were a perfectly ordinary family of four. Isabel cut up her meat and potatoes carefully, and Eva was amused to see Oscar try to copy her, cutting carefully with his knife and fork whereas usually he refused to use cutlery and insisted on eating with his fingers.
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