Eucalyptus & Honey |H.S.|

Chapter 20 - Can We Just Search Romantic Comedies on Netflix?

Harry and I woke up in the late afternoon with the sounds of Anne and Gemma downstairs, apparently having woken up themselves. I was the most sore I'd ever been, and it was even somewhat uncomfortable to sit up. When Harry noticed my flinch of discomfort, he softly asked if I was okay and if it was too much. However, the bastard didn't even attempt to hide his smirk at the knowledge that he'd fucked me so well. At my glare, his smirk only widened.

After a few minutes of cuddling and talking about nothing, Harry finally sighed and stood up, knowing that we had to go downstairs. And that I needed to leave, much to his dismay.

I uncomfortably sat on the bed, shifting to find a better position, but knowing standing wouldn't have been much better on my weak legs. Harry helped me dress in the same clothes that I had on last night and this morning, and they were beginning to feel gross.

I was looking forward to being able to lounge around in sweats with Margot for the rest of the day. Although, I wasn't too excited about having to leave Harry. I knew our minds were hazy with desire when I told Harry that I was his if he was mine, but I meant every word, and I think he did too. But that didn't stop the anxious questioning thoughts from forming in the back of my mind. So, I really didn't want to leave him out of fear of breaking this spell that surrounded us.

After we were dressed, Harry pulled me to my feet with his hands on mine, and didn't stop pulling me forward until his hands were resting at the curve of my back. His brows were drawn together, and I knew he could see right through me—he somehow always did.

His hand moved further down my back until it was rested on the curve of my ass. He lifted his hand and slapped the bruised skin, making my back arch against him—this time out of pain, rather than pleasure. Well, maybe it was a mix of both. He smiled arrogantly down at me, but the smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "Regretting anything yet?" his tone was teasing, but I could tell he meant the question to be deeper than it sounded.

I searched the endless depths of his eyes that never hinted at his thoughts. They told me nothing, as expected, but I could still sense that he was nearly as nervous as I was. Somehow, that calmed my own nerves a surprising amount. My arms wrapped around his back, and I teasingly slapped his ass as well, making him chuckle lightly. I shook my head softly. "I don't regret anything," I said, but then quickly became nervous at the straightforwardness and added, "if you don't." The second part of the sentence almost came out as a question, rather than a statement.

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Couldn't regret it if I tried."

I smiled and buried my face against his neck to press a kiss there, and to hide my blush. He wrapped his arms around me and squeezed me in a hug tight enough to lift my legs off the ground, making me laugh. After a moment, we both pulled away, and I sighed knowing we should go downstairs now.

As soon as we started walking towards the door, I winced at the soreness between my legs, but did the best I could to hide the discomfort. Harry still managed to notice, however, and chuckled lowly. I glared at him, but he ignored it as he dragged his eyes from my thighs up to my face. "Can't walk, angel cutie? Don't know how we'll explain that one."

I managed to ignore the pain and walk towards him mostly normally. The amusement in his eyes remained as he waited for my response. I gave him a sarcastic smile and trailed my fingers up his torso until they landed in his tangle of chestnut waves. I pulled at his roots—hard—the way I knew he liked, and said, "I'd shut those pretty lips if you ever want mine wrapped around you again, pretty."

His smile widened, but I watched the way his pupils nearly engulfed the iris. He brought his own hand up to wrap around my throat tightly—tighter than I expected—making me gasp, and I shifted my sore thighs. "We'll fuckin' see about that, angel baby."