The Knight in Leather Armor

ch.24 Make you wet

He moved a stray lock of hair from my lips. He held my face in his hands and pressed his warm lips to mine, moving slowly, carefully, then picking up momentum and urging, pushing for more.

I grasped a few of his wet curls, pulling him closer to me. Wanting him closer than my wet dress, closer. Closer. Closer than my skin. Under my skin. Inside.

He slid his hands up and down my back, grasping the fabric of my dress so violently, I could have sworn I heard something rip.

He pressed me hard against the growing mountain against my valley- leaving me breathless. Literally. 

Pulling me around to his back, I wrapped my arms around his neck and he swam to the pool ledge. He lifted me up and out of the water by my waist. I saw the muscles in his arms and back ripple as he pulled himself up as well.

Then, without daring to waste another second, he scooped me up in his arms and carried me to his bedroom.

He laid me down urgently, but still gently. I clasped my arms around his neck, rasping the back of his head of dark, wet curls, but there was no need to pull; his moist, lean body was already pressed firmly against mine.

He locked me down under the gate of his hard, long legs, with his knees on either side of me.

I wriggled under his grasp as he pinned my wrists above my head and down on the mattress.

“I wanna make you wet,” he growled by my ear.

I felt a chill shoot up and down my spine as fear and longing entangled deep within me. His tongue slicked down my neck-- as if he were driving down a familiar road- and into the scoop of my breasts.

I whimpered quietly.

Unfulfilled by my reaction, he bit down on the fabric of my dress and tugged greedily down at the sweetheart neckline of my dress.

“Don’t move,” he ordered in his low, raspy voice.

Slowly, he let go of my wrists once he was certain enough that I wouldn’t try to escape. He slid his hands under my back and tugged down at my zipper, just enough to feel the clasp of my bra. He unhitched my bra and pulled it off me with one smooth tug.   

I gasped, completely shocked and slightly frightened by how easily he was able to open me.

Instinctively, my hands went to my breasts, trying to cover them. But Harry shook his head “no” and a sly grin etched across his red lips.

He pinned my wrists down again and slid his large, demanding hands slowly, smoothly down my arms and onto my chest. He traced the sweetheart neckline carefully with his fingers.

Then he grasped a breast in each hand and squeezed slowly- pulling them farther apart, then closer to together- enjoying the weak barrier of my wet dress over my breasts.

I shut my eyes as a slow moan escaped my lips. He squeezed harder, but slower-- until I melted under his firm grasp.

My breath became unbearably heavy as he yanked down at my dress. I tried to tug it back up but he shook his head slowly again and pulled down all the way-- leaving me completely bare-- except for my underwear.

I covered my breasts with my hands and crossed my legs awkwardly, terrified and exhilarated by the freedom of being nearly nude.  

“No,” he shook his head again. A few dark, wet curls hung over his forehead like vines.

He took my wrists in his large hands again and moved them to my sides. I avoided his eyes, unable to look at him as he looked down at me almost completely exposed underneath him.

He tilted my chin up to face him. I felt his eyes scanning me up and down- no doubt finding everything that was too small and too big, too smooth and too rough.  

“You’re no angel. Not with this body,” he spoke slowly, almost disappointedly.

I looked up at him-- eyes wide and terrified, like a deer caught in headlights.

“You’re a goddess,” he purred slowly against my ear.

He lowered his mouth over my breast, letting his tongue glaze my nipple, making it hardened, yet soften at the same moment.

I groaned slowly, painfully as I grasped the sheets beneath me for strength.

He bit down ever-so slightly.

My back arched a she tugged up at my nipple. He repeated the excruciatingly pleasurable action with my other breast.

Harry slid his arms under my back, pulling me and pressing me into his chest. Our bare chests meshed together. My breasts felt tender, like putty, against his hard chest muscles. 

He laid on the mattress, pulling me on top of him. His breath slithered down my back. He moved my hair to the side and kissed along the nape of my neck. His warm, forceful hands wandered freely up and down my back.

Carefully, he laid me down under him again and smoothed my hair to the side.

“There she lay,” he whispered roughly, by my ear. His lips trailed down my neck and between my breasts. He stopped just above the lace of my underwear.

“Pure and golden,” he hissed, letting his breath fan over the lace of my underwear. His eyes glanced up my body- from my waist up to chest, then my eyes.  

He tugged down at my underwear- slightly- with his teeth.

I clasped my legs instinctively, but his instincts were stronger. Slowly, he pulled my legs apart, letting his hands slide up my thighs-gripping tightly and possessively.

A hungry, sly grin cut across his features as his fingers slid between my legs, slowly caressing the lace of my underwear. He began massaging my core at a dangerously fast rhythm.

The tension built and built until one overwhelming touch unlocked my restraint and flooded through me.

Harry grinned in triumph. I moaned, at a complete loss of words.

“A dream in my fingers,” he winked as he breathed over the lace lining.

“My words unspoken,” he growled as his tongue glided up from the lace, up my abdomen and to my neck.

“She begs me- to stay,” he groaned as he rasped my bum- pulling me hard against his groin.

“I do in a moment,” he exhaled as he laid me down softly again.

“She hides her wings,” he whispered as he placed me over his torso and kissed down my back.

“Scared they are broken,” he sighed. His hands slide down to the dimples on my back- at the bottom of my spine.

“She flutters in fear,” he pressed his lips along my shoulder and down the curve of my neck.

Then he turned me around to face him. I looked up into his eyes. He held my gaze hostage- still so afraid I would fly away.

“She know not-” he expressed timidly-- almost like a confession-- as he took my hands in his and placed them over his chest.

“My heart is her token,” he whispered. He lowered his head slowly to mine.

Without daring to move his gaze from my eyes, he closed his lips over mine. He let his tongue discover my mouth as if it was the first time-- or the last.

I shook away my paranoid thoughts and focused instead on the Greek god holding me against his chiseled frame. He held me to him with a vigorous but also delicate and protective force that I felt my chest tighten and relax in pure awe.  

I grasped his still moist dark curls and pulled them down closer. He scooped an arm under my back and pulled the sheets from under me and pulled them over us. I wrapped my legs around his waist, holding him in my own trap.

And we held each other, as so. Unwilling to move an inch, so afraid to let go.