Golden Luckenbooth

Twelve

"Last day," he whispers as he leans over to kiss me good morning on – well, on his last day.

Promptly, I punch him in the stomach. Hard.

"Ooof!" Harry grunts. "What the hell was that for?"

"Why do you have to remind me it's your last day? I was just beginning to wake up to the thought that you're naked next to me, and you have to go and say something asinine like 'last day'."

His grin, that fucking dimple twinkling, doesn't help one tiny bit. "Someone woke up grumpy this morning. Does this mean you're going to miss me?"

"Not even a little bit, you numpty. In fact, I'll be grateful to have my bed fully to myself again. You know, except for the two bitches who normally sleep with me."

"Mhm. I'm confident they'll be excellent replacements for keeping you warm, but can they do this?" His finger has slid into my nest of curls, and beyond, causing me to sigh and spread my legs further.

"They don't have fingers, Harry, so no."

Disappearing under the duvet, I'm startled when he replaces his fingers with his tongue, causing me to jump.

"Do they use their tongues like this?" he murmurs, and my knees bend to provide greater access.

"Noooooooooooooooo," I moan. Soon I'm panting like one of said bitches after a squirrel chase, rotating my hips in an attempt to get him to touch certain parts of me. He uses his arm like a clamp to hold my hips onto the bed while his other hand and mouth have their wicked way with me until I shatter into a thousand shards of pleasure, stuffing my knuckles into my mouth as I scream in ecstasy. When the individual flames have finished flickering over my body, I glance down to find his face between my thighs, grinning stupidly at me, my juices still shining on his face, his pride evident.

"Did that make your morning better?"

He's an evil, evil man who shouldn't be allowed to continue to rule the world without some protective railings. Not that I currently have the energy to stop him since I'm a puddle of nothingness.

I try to play off the moment nonchalantly because there's no way I'm going to beg this man to stay for another day, week, month, lifetime. Nope. Not gonna do it.

"Eh. Slightly."

One eyebrow raises, and he kisses my inner leg, his arms wrapped around each thigh. "I assume waffles and fruit would make it even better?"

"Waffles? Fruit? What do you think this is - a luxury hotel?"

Sheepishly, he shrugs his shoulders. "Did a little shop yesterday to stock up on some items I thought would be useful after I leave."

My heart! I close my eyes in an effort to stifle the emotion that trickles from my tear ducts like Scottish rain on the moors. In seconds, Harry's face is next to mine, his fingers soothing my frizzy hair as his lips touch my forehead, cheeks, chin, neck.

"I'm sorry, babe. Didn't intend to make you cry."

Unfortunately, his words make me sob harder, and I wrap my arms around his back, urging him closer to me. Complying, he plasters his naked body to mine, cradling me like a newborn otter pup. No matter how many times I endeavour to staunch the flow of tears, I'm unsuccessful. All the while, Harry merely holds me, muttering soothing nonsense words.

"It's okay, baby. Shhhhh..."

When every drop of fluid has left my body, I swipe at my eyes and begin my apology. "Oh, geez. I'm sorry, Harry. Clearly I'm hormonal."

"No justification needed, Anna. Pretty sure my own tears are mixed into the dampness of this pillow."

When I open my swollen eyes and look at him, I spy the traces of his emotions there. He isn't lying.