Murder Mystery - H.S

39*

When Harry picked me up and dropped me on the bed, I laughed, wrapping my arms around his neck for extra safety. "Harry!" I said this as my dress rose and brunched over my waist. As I went to pull it down, his hands caught mine and interlocked them before placing them above my head.

I'm not making fun of anything; you simply have a filthy mind. I shrugged, and he hums, "I prefer not hearing it from her."

"From who?" I tease, wrapping my legs around his hips. "Because we're just friends." Harry's lips were inches from mine when he smiled amusingly.

"Is that so?" I hummed "Friends." One hand slipped from mine, and he held my jaw.

"Say it again."

" Friends. That's what we are." I muttered, my heart pounding rapidly.

I constantly tell myself that. we're friends—that this burning desire for him means nothing and we're just fucking friends.

With Harry, our wistful stare, which was fueled by a burning desire for closeness, spoke a lot. Our eyes yearned for the intimacy and openness that only a human being could offer. It was a silent plea, a silent invitation, that ignited a passionate fire within.

We are friends, and that is all we will ever be, I kept telling myself. His eyes got darker, the green no longer encircling them, as if calling Harry my friend had set off a mental bomb.

He says, "Call me your friend again," tilting his head to the side and licking his pink lips. His hold on my jaw becomes firmer. "Because that's what I am, right? your friend, baby?"

My mouth became dry, and I whimpered and got chills all over my body when I heard the word. I wanted to challenge Harry. This was clearly heading in the direction I wanted it to.

I wanted Harry to fuck me—to do anything to my body. In the most desperate way possible, I needed him.

" Friend." Our lips collided in a fiery embrace, igniting a storm of passion and desire. We were both completely devoured by the kiss, leaving only room for the mouth-watering taste of one another. As our spirits entwined, caught in the intensity of the moment, time stopped.

"Friend," I murmured against the kiss, his hands wrapping around my throat. "Fuck Harry."

"Call me your friend one more time, and I'm going to fuck it out, or your vocabulary slut." He muses, and both my breath and my heart rate quicken.

I felt chills all over my body and excitement boiling over. "Whatever you say, friend," I smirk while focusing on his eyes.

Before I could blink, Harry's hands were digging into my hair and dragging my head back until I was looking up at the ceiling while he spoke to me.

"That's what you want. for me to fuck that word out of your vocabulary, because all you are is a fuckin' whore." Harry's body jerked forward as I groaned and squeezed my eyes tight. His hardness against my center caused me to groan.

"Want me to fuck you, babe?"

"Please." I whimpered, and he laughed, letting go of my hair.

"Too bad. Only good girls get fucked." He fully moves away from me, leaving me lying there, bewildered, and hastily sitting up.