lovestruck † hs

Chapter 29

And right now...I don't know if I'm really ready for this.

I'm dragged from my thoughts when Harry moans loudly, pressing his crotch against me, and I notice he has taken his jeans off, them pooling at his feet. A muffled moan escapes my mouth in return, the new friction he's making having its effect of me.

The thoughts of my humiliation return and I try to think of something else, opening my eyes and looking down, seeing Harry turned on through his black boxers that rub against me continuously. I strengthen my arms around his neck and he interrupts my thoughts again by breaking the kiss.

"Lift," he breathes, before crashing his lips and slipping his hands under my thighs, wrapping my legs around his waist, then stumbling back a few steps into the hot shower.

Now we really can't see, the steam surrounding us completely, and my nerves are sky high.

Harry places me up against the wet wall, making sure my legs are tightly around him as he presses his crotch into me further, the both of us getting soaked as the water sprays upon our buzzing bodies. He breathes heavily, before moving, taking his lips from mine to my neck biting and sucking literally everywhere, marking me in many places as moans and profanities exit my mouth over and over. Our bare chests press against each other's, and he moves his back a little to play with my chest with his hands, something he's never done this intensely before. My fingers tug at the curls on his head, causing him to groan against my skin, the hot air in his breath making me shiver.

Suddenly I feel Harry's hands running down my waist to the fabric of my panties, which are completely wet, mainly from the water. He hooks a finger around the side, wanting to pull them down but my hand reflexes and falls onto his, not letting him move it down.

Harry stops, stops the grinding of his hips, assault to my neck, the pleasures he was giving me quit as he backs his head away and stares me in the eyes. His expression is curious, curious to know why I've stopped him. The hair on his head is a mess, dripping with water that continues to spray on his large back. Harry makes sure to hold me so I don't have to stand, and I see confusion in his eyes, realizing a few tears are slipping from my own.

"Rachel?"

My brows furrow as another tear slips out. I can't believe I started crying. This was going well, and yet my emotions slip through and actually make me cry? I get that I'm suffering through all the shit in my life, but did I really have to start crying during a make out session?

Slightly, I shake my head, "I can't. Harry..I'm sorry, I just...can't."

Harry's mouth turns into a straight line, disappointment looks like it's seeping in and my sadness gets on the next level. He bows his head, gives a slight nod.

"Here, hold onto the wall, and please put no pressure on the foot," he untangles my legs from around his waist and helps me to stand down on one foot. "I'll help you get out, be careful babe." He steps out, and I notice his boxers are soaked and he isn't turned on anymore. I'm the one to blame that on. Through the glass doors I see him take two towels, setting one over the door for me and taking one for himself, drying off.

Now he seems sad, since I'm sad. He sounded so defeated, less excited than he was earlier at breakfast today.

Why do I ruin everything?

Harry's POV

I am confused.

Rachel and I are okay, I am pretty sure the two of us are good. What just happened was the closest we've ever gone, and it was good, so good. Just the best I've had in a long time, and I know she enjoyed it. That's all I had wanted, for her to enjoy that, and be happy. I haven't done something that hot in forever.