Part 4

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Harry set his glass down on the table before his hand darted out and wrapped around your neck, pulling you the small distance separating you until your lips met. You let out the most pitiful whine when they touched, your hand sliding up to grab his upper thigh as the other cupped his face. Your hand slipped higher and back to wound into his hair as he deepened the kiss, his tongue very quickly sliding into your mouth.

The feeling of his tongue against yours was something you had been craving the whole week. It was borderline sick, tracing the seam of your lips before sliding against yours and making your saliva mix together. Your mouths were sweet from wine and had the tiniest twinge of garlic from when you tried the sauce.

You shifted further into your chair so your legs were slotted together, and you were as close as you could possibly be with how you were sitting. But it wasn't enough. You were still so unbearably horny you could feel your arousal soak your underwear, and probably further into your workout shorts. You needed to be touched or to touch him, and all this talk about his cock had you hungry for it.

"Harry, please" you panted as you forced yourself to break the kiss. You didn't want to, hell it was the last thing you possibly could've wanted, but you needed him to do something else. His spare hand was sitting on his thigh, and he made no attempt to touch you other than grabbing your throat.

"Love when you beg for me, don't even know what you want, huh?" He teased, cocking his head before he pressed his mouth to yours again.

You moaned into it, your lips already feeling raw and bruised as he alternated between nibbling down on them and soothing them with his tongue. The hand around your neck slid down between your cleavage across to your hip. He grabbed onto your hips with both hands and guided you upwards. You followed his guide and stood up while keeping your mouth attached to his, your hands finding their places on his shoulders.

You thought he'd stand up after you and guide you upstairs where he could rip your clothes off. Instead, you were moved between his legs and pressed to the table. You heard a crash of glass as he carelessly shoved his plate and wine glass to the side, the glass toppling over and rolling off the table before smashing on the floor.

"Harry" you gasped, gripping his shoulders as he ghosted his lips along your jaw.

"Shh, sweetheart. Don't worry about it" he soothed, standing up and lifting you onto the table before wrapping your ponytail around his fist and roughly tugging your head back.

Having a ponytail was possibly the best idea you had ever had, and Harry was going to make very good use of it the entire night. You let out a gasp at the shoot of pain that travelled through your scalp, one that had your back arching so your chest could press against his.

"Was... was it expensive?" you asked, your eyes closed as he savagely licked a stripe up your neck. You had on a thin layer of coverage to hide your healing bruises and he wanted to get rid of it completely so he could see his handy work. They had faded significantly since Harry made them, and he was determined to deepen them again.

"Don't worry about it" he roughly tugged your ponytail as a warning before letting it go and grabbing onto the bottom of your t-shirt. You lifted your arms up as he tugged up your shirt, pulling it off your body and throwing it somewhere behind him.

You leaned back on your hands while he scanned your body, taking a quick look over your chest before deciding that he hated your sports bra. That was quickly stripped from your body too, leaving you just in your workout shorts that had ridden up and exposed your entire legs.

The way he looked at you made your entire body heat up. You loved it and it made you feel powerful, but at the same time it made you a quivering mess and your face was turning redder and redder the longer he stared. His eyes were dark and the expression on his face so intense as his eyes darted around the marks still dotting your skin. They were deeper near your breasts, the thinner and more sensitive skin there making the bruises still sting to the touch.

Rich H.SWhere stories live. Discover now