Radiant: sending out light; shining or glowing brightly
"She was like a lighthouse, radiant, in my never ending sea of pitch black waves"
Harry Styles is a world renowned cardiovascular surgeon who's never been in touch with his own heart.
Althea...
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Althea Cooper
24th February 2022
"Fuck, Harry." I whine through a shaky breath, as his tongue assaults my neck and his body has mine pinned heavily against the cool wall of the elevator.
Harry has not been able to keep his hands off me from the minute we said I love you. After three drinks and a lot of conversation we both decided enough was enough. We needed to get back to the hotel before one of us burst a blood vessel or worse.
From the moment we left the restaurant, Harry has found it entirely impossible to keep his hands to himself. The entire cab ride back to the hotel I had to deal with Harry's teasing hands creeping further and further up my leg creating a pool of arousal between my legs that had me trembling. As soon as his fingertip landed exactly where I needed them though, it was ripped away with a teasing grin as the car pulled to a stop.
Clumsily pushing our way into our hotel room through a clashing of lips, my back hits the wooden door the second it slams shut. Harry's mouth moves effortlessly from my neck upwards to reattach with my mouth, fighting against me for only a moment before I allow him the control he so desperately needs. Tripping over each other's feet we stumble into the kitchen area, Harry's hips slamming backwards into the counter but he doesn't even flinch. His tongue continues to travel its way down my body from my lips, my neck until they're tracing the outline of my collarbones, letting a soft moan escape my lips.
Suddenly an idea pops into my head that has my face turning with a smirk when I forcefully push Harry's hands off me. Before I give him a chance to be concerned I drop to my knees and watch as his dark eyes widen with lust.
"Tonight was supposed to be my treat." I pout as I look upwards at him through my eyelashes. "Let me treat you, Harry baby." I add, running my fingertip along the skin just below his waistband, watching as the hairs on his body stand on edge.
Harry's entire body washes over with a blanket of goosebumps as he shudders from my words. Reaching outwards with his right hand, his thumb comes up to trace the shape of my lips so softly.
"Are you sure?" He gasps through staggered breaths as I continue to run my fingertip along his delicate skin. "You don't have to Thea." He says in the most serious tone I've heard all night, trying to remain composed.
"I want to." I encourage, flicking my eyes between his face and his pants as a plea for permission to remove them. "Let me make you feel good, Harry. Please baby." I pout up at him, knowing exactly what I'm doing to him with my teasing tone.
All of Harry's restraint seems to snap in one swoop when his head frantically nods at me. "Yes. God, please. Yes." He staggers out, his hips involuntarily bucking upwards when my fingertips dare to trace further under his waistband, beginning to tug the material down his muscular thighs untill they drop to the floor at my knees.
