Summary: After a month of being apart, they're finally reunited, but the situation they are in forces them to keep everything behind closed doors.

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"Being with him had awakened her senses, a side of her she didn't know existed; her desire, her insatiable hunger only he could satisfy."

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We shouldn't be doing this here.

The sentence was already on the tip of her tongue when she tilted her head to the side, giving him more access to a certain soft spot below her ear. But instead of those words, it was his name that came out of her mouth in a breathless moan. Fingers buried in his auburn hair, she gave his locks a little tug as an attempt to guide his kisses back to her lips, and he complied.

Biting his lower lip, she swallowed his groans, insinuating that she wanted him to go rough. Oh, how she craves for his kisses, his touches all over her body—especially the way his fingers brushed that pressure point inside her to send her over the edge. Her heartbeat picked up with excitement and desire, as she felt his hand wander under her skirt, making its way up towards her upper thigh. Heat began to pool between her legs, as she spread them as far as her dark magenta nightgown allowed her.

"Eager, aren't we?" he whispered huskily against her lips, "Not wearing anything underneath this modest nightgown." In a brief second, two fingers grazed over her bare mound, gathering her wetness.

The gesture was enough to force her to break the kiss and draw in a sharp breath. Eyes fluttering open, she reached for the collar of his shirt, pulling him in once again. Still maintaining her regal posture on the mahogany desk, one leg went behind his thigh as an attempt to trap him between her legs—as he should be, she thought. Under the minimum lighting, his green eyes were gleaming with desire and want, and her eyes narrowed to match his lustful gaze.

"It's all for you, darling," she muttered, then biting her lower lip, before adding, "I've missed you."

In return, the auburn haired man withdrew his hand from her skirt and brought his two fingers close to his mouth. She began to pant when she watched as he slowly licked them clean. The scent of her arousal was thick in the air, and she was dripping with anticipation, secretly yearning for more.

"I've missed you, Elsa."

The way he said her name sent shivers down her spine, and she could feel the untamed flame of desire burning inside her. She wrapped an arm around his neck, fingers playing with his auburn locks, as their eyes met.

"I've missed being with you. Some nights felt a little too long and rather lonely, and then I'd touch myself, thinking about you." Elsa wanted him to stop talking and had her right then and there, but at the same time she didn't want him to—not yet. She wanted to know if he felt the same way after being apart from each other for a whole month, because she, too, was thinking about him.

"Yet it simply didn't feel the same. It wasn't you—your hand," he took one hand in his, "your mouth," he pecked her lips, taking her by surprise, "your warmth." Another hand settled on the small of her back, before moving down to squeeze her rear. "I want you."

"Oh, Hans," she breathed out, closing her eyes and resting her forehead against his shoulder.

Her mouth was gaping when his skilled fingers, once again, found themselves under her skirt. Only this time, he caved into her inviting cavern, her wetness guiding him in with ease. She almost shuddered, for the feeling was overwhelming. She missed this, she missed him. And this feels a lot better than her own small, thin fingers.

"Don't stop!"

Fingers dug into his back when he began to move in a circular motion, his thumb rubbing on her pearl. One curl of his digits got her panting, and another sent her reeling. It didn't take long for him to set a pace and find her pressure point. Her grip on him grew tighter, but much to her dismay he didn't go deeper.

"Please, Hans, just take me now." It sounded like a frustrated whine, and he stopped, denying her the release and pulling away.

He tried to search for something in her blue eyes, now cloudy with want, something like an approval. Warmth spreading across her chest, realising that he was asking permission. It wasn't their first time, that's for sure (for they had been secretly courting behind everyone's backs for almost four months now and had been lovers for as long), but he certainly made her feel like it was. And she finds it rather flattering.

"Are you sure?" He gently asked, and a series of nods was all her response. "Here, in your father's study?"

"This is the nearest room where we can be alone. Besides, almost everyone is asleep, well, I hope so." Elsa playfully pouted and shrugged, her fingers toying with the buckle of his belt. "My room is too far away and I just can't wait any longer. One month, Hans, I thought you missed me."

"I did," he replied, gently catching her wrist and holding it close between them. "But it's not my fault that you're so impatient and decided to wander around past curfew, instead of waiting for me to come to your room."

Elsa rolled her eyes. "You took awfully long. What was so important to talk about among you men, anyway?"

As soon as she fired the question away, she could sense the sudden change of mood in him. Probably it's best to not pester him further about it, she thought knowingly.

"Forget it, and to answer your question, yes, I am sure." She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, before leaning close to whisper to his ear seductively, "Now, show me how much you've missed me. Make me yours."

"Yes, my Lady."

That devilish smirk returned to his face, and Elsa bit her lower lip. The hesitation from earlier was gone, replaced by excitement, and the gap between them was once again sealed by an open mouthed kiss. With her eyes closed, she unbuckled his belt, her hand skimming through the expensive fabric, feeling his hardness. He gave her a hand so she could undo his trousers, and she smiled in delight.

"Elsa."

He was hard and throbbing within her grasp, almost as if he ached for her touch. Skilled fingers began to massage along his shaft, from the tip to the base, then back to the tip, and his hips jerked involuntarily. Every movement, every faint murmur of her name only fuelled the heat in her lower abdomen.

He eagerly slid her nightgown up, exposing her long legs, and the fabric polled around her waist. She granted him access, spreading her legs and drawing him in. Pulling away from the kiss to catch her breath, Elsa guided him to her entrance. His green eyes steadily held her cerulean gaze with reassurance, as he slowly buried himself in her.

She shuddered, brows knitted and mouth agape at the feeling of him spreading her open. He moved so gently, contrasting with the rough make out session they had previously, but as much as Elsa wanted him to have his way with her, she enjoyed this a lot. They still had the next time anyway, since Hans and the rest of the Westergaards were staying there for the whole week.

"Hans," she gasped, their forehead resting against each other. "Faster."

A sharp thrust got her back arching, and she leaned back with her hand supporting her, canting her hips to match his rhythm. Oh, stars! She craves for him. Being with him had awakened her senses, a side of her she didn't know existed; her desire, her insatiable hunger only he could satisfy. Her toes curled as he went deeper, exploring the unknown.

Biting her lower lip, she tried to suppress her moan. If anyone heard or ever found out about their secret escapades, the most intimate moments they shared behind closed doors, they would face some consequences. Yet for some reasons, she found their union as something worthy of the risks.

"I-I can't," she mewled, searching for his hand, his arm, his neck to hold onto. "I'm close."

His eyebrows knitted, she noted, and the look on his face was saying that he, too, was also close. She rolled her hips, desperately wanting to get to the release, and the desk began to make some scratching noises. Neither could care less, but there was a mental image at the back of her head, a question: what would they say or think, if anyone walked in on her screwing a Westergaard in her father's study? But it all vanished into thin air the moment he murmured,

"Elsa, I need to—"

He was about to pull out, when her legs tried to hold him still. "Inside!"

"Are you s—"

"Yes, yes!"

Elsa knew about the consequences. One simple mistake could change their future, for better or for worse, but she had calculated, and hoped that she didn't do it wrong.

The second they reached their release, it felt as if the world stopped. Euphoria erupted in their chests at their union, sending shivers all over their bodies. They held each other tight in an embrace, as if letting go was something they never heard of.

Elsa was panting, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Allowing herself the warmth that was radiating from his body, her lips twitched into a smile, as she listened to his heartbeat which was slowly recovering after that orgasmic bliss. It was perfect, and she thought she was dreaming, that she would wake up alone in her bed just like the previous nights. But the light pressure on the top of her head was enough to tell her that he was there with her, in flesh. She had missed him terribly, and there was a pang of frustration in her chest upon the realisation that this current moment was the furthest they could go with their intimacy for the night.

Later they would have to let go of each other and sleep in their own rooms, in different parts of the castle. And in the morning, they would have to pretend they didn't know each other very well. She would go back to be the good girl she was supposed to be, sitting down beside her mother and sister in the drawing room, not paying attention to the patriarch of the family having a what-seems-to-be important conversation with their guests—the Westergaards of Denmark. She could only steal glances here and there, looking away to hide her blushing cheeks, faking a laughter at unfunny jokes on the dinner table. Then she wished the night would fall sooner so she could have him again.

She hated to pretend she wasn't jealous when some maids flirted with him, one of them even tried to find an excuse to get into his chamber, even after he told them he needed no helping hand, or during that one time when they arranged a secret meeting in the city and the waiter at the restaurant they dined in was giving him a special attention. It was such a surprise to her how they managed to get through it and to keep their relationship secret from the world for almost four months. Deep down, Elsa wondered if she wouldn't have to suffer like this had that one trip to Denmark hadn't happened. But then she wouldn't have discovered new exciting things and got to know him.

Is it selfish to think that I want him for myself? Her grip on his shirt tightened at the thought. What is this feeling?

"Elsa?"

When he gently called her, she could sense the worry in his tone, but she didn't look up.

"Just hold me, Hans," she replied.

Her blue eyes fluttered close. She found herself inhaling his scent, as he wrapped his arms around her.

"Always."

It was firm, just the way she wanted to hear, but little did she know the look on his face, glum and conflicted, as he recalled the conversation from earlier.

"Always," Hans repeated, only this time, it was more of a promise.

tbc