Hi everyone! So there is a sex scene in this chapter, which I'm assuming won't bother anyone since it was stated at the beginning that my fic would have them, but I still wanted to give everyone the heads up that this chapter is NSFW (if you're at work right now…my job is still considered essential so I'm working, anyways, stay safe to those who are!).

So please enjoy! And if you did, please leave me a review! I would really appreciate it! Thank you!

Chapter Six

After our verbal exchange, I did not see Landa the rest of the day, nor did I see him the following day. When Saturday came around, I was moody and trying to think of a reason to not attend the party, but I knew that Michael would not accept no for an answer.

So I put on my black evening gown and sat next to my husband in the cab that took us from our house in Little Italy to the Upper East Side to see Michael's rich friends.

The party was in a large home, just off of Fifth Avenue. I had been to the house a few times before, for usual parties or just visiting the Zanotti family.

The main rooms were filled with people, men and women walking around amongst each other, most with drinks in their hands, laughing and chatting.

I wandered around, mingling here and there but not having a meaningful conversation with anyone.

Until I ended up in the library.

There was a group of men loitering in one corner, sitting or standing around one man in a large leather chair, a glass of amber liquid in his hand.

He wore a formal military uniform, typical of those who had served in the war and proud of it. His left breast was covered in medals, patches of honor on the sleeves.

I knew that voice right away.

"Oh, it was my plan all along!" he gushed in a thick accent, waving his arm at the men listening to him speak. "It was not easy, but I would say being a double agent is one of the most exciting things one can do in life." He swirled his drink before taking a sip, his eyes meeting mine.

I shot him a look, my brows raised. I hoped it portrayed what I was thinking, what the hell was he doing here?

With a grin, Hans Landa shot down the rest of what he was drinking and stood up.

"If you'll excuse me, gentlemen," he said, giving his medal decorated jacket a tug, "I must refill my scotch."

I ducked back behind the wall, avoiding the gazes of the men following Landa as he walked away. I knew he would look for me as soon as he rounded the corner and came into the hall.

And he did. His eyes shone when he saw me and he set his glass down on one of the hall tables and smiled. "You look absolutely stunning this evening," he gushed.

"What are you doing here?" I hissed.

"You wanted me to keep track of your husband's activities, that's exactly what I am doing here."

"Do you know where he is?"

"He is in the living room. Are you questioning my abilities?"

I crossed my arms. "Yes."

"Hm." His eyes glanced down, looking at my chest in the low cut front of my dress before looking away, back at me. "Come," he said shortly, grabbing my upper arm, his fingers warm on my skin.

He started up the staircase, dragging me with him.

"Where are you taking me?" I whined.

He said nothing, simply pulled me into the first door once we reached the top of the stairs. He let go of my arm and shut the door of the bedroom behind us, turning the lock with a small click.

I crossed my arms again. "Why are we up here?"

"If we are up here," he said, taking a step closer to me, "no one can see or hear us talking."

"About what?"

"You're obviously unhappy with me." He raised his brows and looked at me expectantly. "Is this not what you wanted, me to follow your husband?"

I sighed. "Yes." I sat down on the end of the bed. "But you didn't have to come here. If he realizes what's going on-"

"He will not. Believe me. Part of being a good detective is allowing people to trust you. If your husband trusts me, he will have no animosity towards me, and thus, no reason to be suspicious of my appearance." He sat down next to me, his thigh a few inches from mine. "But that is not the only thing on your mind." It wasn't a question.

I met his eyes and blinked at him. "No," I admitted.

"That's what I thought."

"I can't stop thinking about the other day, in my office," I admitted. "I should feel bad, shouldn't I?"

He furrowed his brow. "You do not feel guilt?"

"No. I don't. I should, and I tried. But I can't. I'm a married woman, kissing someone who isn't my husband and all I think about is how much I want to do it again."

He raised his brows at me, eyes wide. "Are you going to scold me again if I should kiss you?"

"Stop it." I hit his arm playfully.

"If I may," he held up a finger, "you are married, legally, but emotionally, I feel that you have removed yourself from the relationship with your husband. You potentially want him dead, if that does not ease your conscience, I'm afraid not much else will."

"That doesn't exactly ease it, but I see where you're going with this."

"It was his choice to end the sanctity of your marriage, not yours."

"I just want to feel guilty, because I know it's wrong, but I don't."

"Why would you want to have such a feeling?"

"To prove that I'm a moral human being?"

"Humans are not moral. Humanity in its essence is not about morality, it is about being, living, feeling. And if I may be so blunt, you're not one to sit idlily by while your husband is out having an affair. You're much too ambitious, Liebling."

I snorted a small laugh, but I couldn't help but smile. "You're just saying that because you want me to cheat on him with you."

"I will leave that up to you."

I raised my brows at him.

"Are you going to yell at me again?" he asked, leaning in closer, reaching out a hand and tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear, then left his hand on the side of my face.

"Perhaps," I replied.

"I am willing to risk it." He leaned in, kissing me again, this time without the trepidation from before. He felt extremely sure of himself as he held my face with one hand, moved closer to me so that his thigh was touching mine, his other hand taking the other side of my face.

I reached my hands out, once again wrapping my arms around his neck, pulling him closer to me, on purpose this time. I knew exactly what I was doing.

Or so I thought. His hand slid down from my face, slowly down the front of my neck, his fingers stopping at the hallow of my throat. My head felt light as his other hand went to my hair, making a fist above the nape of my neck.

I tried to move, if possible, closer to him. He noticed what I was doing and took his hand from my neck, taking hold of under my thigh through the fabric of my dress, lifting my leg onto his lap.

My breath was coming in heavy as I put a hand to the front of his jacket, feeling the coldness of the medals there and faintly, his quick heartbeat underneath them.

He turned, moving so that he was more in front of me than beside and leaned into me, forcing me to lie back on the bed, his lips still at mine the entire time.

But he pulled away, our mouths separating with a small smack. He lied still above me, propped on his left arm, his right fingers stroking down my neck, past my collar bone.

"Hans," I breathed, meeting his wide eyes.

"If you want me to stop…" he whispered.

"No." I took his face in my hands. "Don't stop." I tried to lift myself up to him, but he lowered himself to me first. He started kissing my lips, but then his lips started to work their way down, over my neck. His hand lowered, his fingers delicately tracing the edge of my neckline, over the round hump of my breast.

My chest rose and fell deliberately as his lips moved to the skin of my breast. I ran my hands through his hair, messing up the perfect style it always was set in, feeling the softness between my fingers.

He moved himself so that he was position more above me, and I adjusted my legs so that he was now between them, bending my knees on either side of his legs, the hem of my skirt falling up, exposing my bare thighs and the laced edge of my panties.

Again, he stopped, looking at me, his eyes questioning if we should keep going.

I sucked a breath, reaching my hand down, past his belt, at the crotch of his pants. His eyelids fluttered as I felt his hardness there. He regained composure quickly enough to undo his belt and tug his pants down. I hiked up my skirt, forcing my own undergarments down, where he grabbed hold my panties quickly, pulling them completely off.

He thrusted himself inside of me hurriedly, making me cry out in surprise at the small sting of pain and very intense feeling of pleasure. Hans slapped his hand over my mouth, his body going motionless, still deep inside of me.

"You are going to give us away if you do not stay quiet," he hissed.

Without removing his hand, he slowly began to move his hips back and forth, pushing delightfully inside of me, making me close my eyes and moan against his palm.

He took his hand away carefully, his eyes still on my face as he continued, his hand held there, fingers stretching and then making a fist next to my face.

"Ahh," I let out quietly.

"Shh…You have to be quiet, Liebling," he breathed.

"I…"

He silenced me with his mouth against mine, still pushing into me in a such a way that made my whole body quiver beneath him.

It had been a long time since I had been intimate in any way with my husband. First, things turned very routine, almost boring and I didn't care if we had sex or not. Then it rarely happened, then it didn't happen at all. After going months without feeling the touch of a man, one would assume that it would be an intense feeling, but I never felt anything as intense as I did right then.

Every muscle in my body felt tense, and no matter how tightly I held onto him, I couldn't get Hans close enough to me. Everything heightened inside me as I gripped the back of his jacket, my hands sore from holding on so tightly.

He pulled his mouth away from mine, taking a large gulping breath.

"My God, Hans," I breathed. I bit down on my lower lip to stop from crying out as his hip bones grinded against mine, everything about his body hitting mine in just the right spot. The medals on his chest pressed hard and cold against me, digging into my skin.

He whispered something in German? Or so I thought, I couldn't tell for sure, his lips against my ear. But just hearing his voice made my body quiver. I bit down on my lip to stop from crying out again, but I wasn't sure how much longer I could keep quiet.

"Hans, I'm…I'm going to…Oh!"

He covered my mouth with his palm again, as my entire body shook.

"How does that feel?" he asked quietly.

I let out a cry against his hands, my pleasure heightening as he thrust into me so hard that I felt him hit the end with a small stab of pain. If his hand wasn't stopping me, I would have screamed out, as he sent me over the edge.

My body stopped shaking but he hadn't finished yet. He pushed into me, once, twice, three times until I felt him pulse inside of me, letting out a groan and then his body went still.

We lied there, frozen, both of us breathing heavily. He took his hand from my mouth and his eyes met mine, a sheen of sweat on his forehead.

I let go of the back of his jacket slowly. I took my hands away and held the sides of his face. I pushed his hair, that had fallen from its usually place, back away from his damp face.

He bent and kissed my lips quickly, softly, before sliding out from inside of me, then flopping over onto his back on the bed next to me.

I put the back of my hand against my forehead, feeling the dampness and heat of my skin.

"So," I said, still huffing, "does this mean we have to kill my husband?"

Hans laughed. "Ah, does this mean you want him dead?" He turned his head to look at me.

"What other options do I have?"

"Run away with me, Lilly. I have property on Nantucket Island."

"What?" I sat up and leaned over him. I could feel a damp warmth drip between my legs. "Are you serious?"

He nodded, pulling his pants back up around his waist. "I am having a home built as we speak, Maus."

I leaned away so that he could sit up, buckling his belt as he did so.

"You're having a house built there?" I repeated.

"Yes." He grinned. "I am only in New York because it was easier to come here first, rent a home until mine in finished and then head to the island."

My heart was still pounding in my chest and I wasn't sure that it had everything to do with us just having had sex. "I…maybe I will," I said.

His eyes looked at mine and then he pushed his hair back, smoothing it more perfectly into place than I had. "We cannot stay in this room." He stood and adjusted his tie.

I sighed and nodded, reaching and taking my panties off the floor. I slipped them back on and stood up. "Do I look like I just fucked a retired solider at a party, who isn't my husband?" I asked, adjusting my bra under my dress.

Hans burst into laugher. "Oh, Lilly, you have the mouth of a sailor and the face of an angel, it vexes me in such a magnificent way."

I shrugged. "I'm not actually joking."

He looked at me, up and down. "Your hair, Liebling."

I ran my fingers through it, smoothing what I could feel was sticking up.

He took a step closer to me, gently running his hands down over the hair close to my face. My legs still felt weak at his touch.

"Follow my lead if should run into your husband, is that clear?" he asked me.

"Yes." I nodded.

"We are going to play that man like a violin."