32

294 15 2
                                    

*some tough family dynamics

"Forgive me for my love—
for ruining you with my love."
- Fyodor Dostoevsky

Harry

~two weeks later~

My hands roam her lower back, precariously close to the top of her bum, over the loose linen shorts she's wearing, as she straddles me and leaves a trail of lazy kisses along the curve of my neck.

One minute we're watching a movie and the next we're doing...this.

Not that I'm complaining one bit.

Her mouth travels back to mine where I welcome it happily. I smile into the kiss, so blissfully happy with her and with life in general.

The love of my life is sat on top of me, our lips intertwined, hands on her still-tanned skin from holiday in Italy.

"What're we doing?" I ask playfully, hand now skimming the hem of the t-shirt of mine that she wears. Blonde tresses hang around our faces like a curtain, tickling my cheek with each subtle movement.

"Oh, nothing," she hums nonchalantly in between kisses.

My hand slips underneath the baggy t-shirt and grazes the soft skin of her stomach. I feel it flex at my touch, going taut and then I secure it to her waist, anchoring her onto me.

I pull my head back. "Doesn't seem like nothing," I muse.

"Well, what do you want it to be, Harry?" She asks, cocking her head to the side, knowing damn well what I want, she just wants to hear me say it.

"I think you know," I murmur, our faces almost touching. I tighten the grip I have on her waist, making her squirm a bit on top of me. The movement almost has me losing all train of thought.

"Enlighten me," she tuts.

"I," I kiss behind her ear in that spot, "want," I do it again but to the other side, "you," I plant my mouth on hers.

"All yours," she whispers, before our mouths attach to each others once more, this time with a ferocity that wasn't there a moment ago.

Hands all over each other, a low moan escapes my throat as I feel her purposefully tease and grind against me. The rocking back and forth has my eyes wanting to roll backwards in pleasure. The sudden urge to have her skin against mine is overwhelming, so I start to grab the shirt and pull it off of her, when I hear an assertive, loud knocking on the front door.

"What the fuck," I mutter, as Hollands body halts against mine. Grabbing my phone that's sitting next to me, I check the time.

3:53.

Ivy isn't supposed to be back from lunch and shopping with with Melissa until 5. But I don't know who else it'd be at the door. Sam is on a pub crawl. My sister is out of town. And mum is back in Holmes Chapel. Holland is here with me.

She lifts off of me, adjusting g her top and shorts. She looks flustered and flushed. I'm sure my face is looking very similar to that right about now, so I try to shake it off, having the feeling that it's Melissa who's here early.

REDAMANCY [h.s. au]Where stories live. Discover now