Ignorance ➵ h.s. au

seventy first

Dani's hand crawled up at the back of his neck, goosebumps rising across his skin from the gesture, the sweet fragrance of shampoo effusing from her hair. Whatever that was he did with his eyes, the way they drooped slightly at close distance but alertness stayed, brought a distinct warmth in her stomach. Bravery wasn't even enough to take away all the doubts flying around her head, the fear of kissing him and losing control gradually corrupting her mind. Why should she not? By now she's decided there wasn't anything wrong with touching him, after all they've talked it through, but a part of her remained indecisive, perhaps to preserve even just a little bit of conscience. It's not like everything erased the reality upon them. If anything, it was a reminder, and she was afraid that reminder was becoming insignificant. Can she really resist the temptation?

She pulls his head down, planting his soft and wet lips on hers, his needy tongue brushing against hers as Danielle opened her mouth to let him in. Her fingers clenched at the back of his head, eyes closed as she followed every movement he made in her mouth, reciprocating by bringing his bottom lip between her teeth and cautiously biting on it. A grunt escapes his throat, Dani's ears fluttering from the noise, and heat spreading further between her thighs, her knees rubbing in discomfort. His hand on her chest trailed down her stomach, inching closer to the garter of her shorts, the only thing keeping her underwear hidden from his sight. But it wasn't too long before he found his way inside, slipping through the fabric of her bottoms and panties, her body jolting from the sudden cold applied by his finger onto her slit.

It was beginning to be a habit, having Harry in her room and doing inappropriate things behind her parents' back, and quite frankly she didn't care anymore. It was an impulsive thought, almost toxic and she would be devastated if it wasn't for him keeping her grounded, his index finger moving up and down her slit, pressing lightly but enough for her toes to curl as they dangled at the edge of the bed. She takes a deep breath, taking in the strong taste of toothpaste in his mouth like he had just brushed his teeth. It was wrong to love the feeling of him caressing her clit, inching her towards the edge as his calloused skin contrasted her hypersensitivity. Nonetheless it was already too late, and even when she was alone her mind wanders back to the way he memorized the weakest spots and targeted them every chance he gets. The tips of his fingers traced deliberate motions, her back arching as pleasure took over her part.

Her mother was busy planning out Carter's birthday, surreptitiously chatting their relatives somewhere on the internet and her father was probably just lurking around the house in his laptop, no one cared what she was doing. Hell, she could run off right now and nobody would even notice. She could do whatever she wants, even if it meant risking her entire life just because she couldn't control the peculiar yearning she had for his skin. She was way too deep into this mess, and there was no way of coming back. Weak whimpers came out of her mouth against her will, Harry's dick hardening behind his zipper as he continued with rubbing up and down, building up the pressure in her lower stomach, his hand enclosed by her inner thighs. It was never really as vivid in her mind whenever she recalled it, like every bit should be cherished as it happened, because once it was gone, she couldn't properly imagine. So right there and then she did, the sounds escaping her mouth suppressed by his kisses.

Her fingers ran through the soft strands of his hair, traveling down his spine to his waist, his shirt hiking up as his stomach pressed on her hip. Yesterday, he was the one in that position; perspirating, vulnerable, unable to breathe. She couldn't even put to words how much she wanted to see him like that again. She thought nothing was better than having his hand in her pants, but she was wrong, because the flush in his cheeks as she held him by her hand was straight out of a dream, and even just the idea of it brought more wetness to her core. At that moment, she wasn't looking at a stranger, or the man she fell in love with, rather a completely different person who could break with the flick of her wrist. For the first time she had control of something and it was addicting to the point where she ached to touch him again.