Intellect

Las Vegas (8)

Harry

My fingers skimmed across her skin as she slept. Her forehead look strained as her eyes flickered back and fourth under her soft eyelids. With a shutter her hand grasped onto my hand pulling her backside deeper in my chest.

"Fucking hell" I caught my self groaning, just at the thought of her. I was going crazy for her, even with the small touch we share my body ignites, my cock swells, my mind teases me. It's her body, her heart, her thoughts. Everything about her makes me hurt, and swell and ignite in the best way possible.

In her sleep, her body twists into my arms, making herself rub slowly against me before settling into a comfortable position. I could feel myself shaking. Stop it Harry. Get a grip.  I was screaming at myself subconsciously, but when her body turned over and her hand accidentally run down my chest I knew I couldn't take it anymore.

My body jumped from the bed. I needed to calm down. I rushed towards the bathroom turning on the shower to the coldest of settings. The freezing water shocked my skin. I waited for the temperature to bring my heated blood down, to release me of my want for her but every time I blinked, every time I breathed I thought of all the things I could do to her. I didn't even know my hand was running along my throbbing self until I felt a groan bubbling deep inside my chest. I know it's wrong to do this when she's in the other room, but the washroom door is locked, and if she doesn't want me as much as I want her then I have to settle with imaging her.

If I ran my hand soft enough, held back my moans long enough I could almost imagine her doing it for me. Her lips kissing my chest as her hands pumped me. I was breathless and panting in seconds, letting my wet head of hair lean against the shower tiles as my liquids lathered against my hand.

"I don't know how much of this I can handle." I whispered into the cold stream of air.  She's been inside my head since the moment I saw her, and it's turned into something different. She no longer lingers in my thoughts she consumes them... she's a virus. Something my body can't fight.

_

"Let's walk down the Vegas strip, do some shopping." She was smiling this morning, her hair was wet from the shower she took shortly after mine. She must of not known a thing from this morning, because she hasn't mentioned anything.

"Sure, it's up to you." My fingers reached for a white patterned shirt. I was to lazy to button the first three buttons, and quite honestly I loved how Violetta would stare at my chest. When she was in the washroom my legs slipped into black skinny jeans and just as she came out I pulled my boots over my feet.

"No. You're not wearing that." My voice was harsher then I wanted it to be, but at the moment I don't care.

"What?" Her head turned with confusion before bending down, taunting me, and slipping her feet into running shoes.

"No, there's no fucking way your wearing that." I practically panted out, watching her body bend and twist trying to get the heal of her foot into her shoe. She was getting mad as she stood herself up.

"You have no right to tell me what to wear."

"I do when I know what guys are thinking." Her knees bent, and she squatted right in front of me as she picked up her purse. She must be doing this on purpose, there is no way she isn't. She must of heard me in the shower this morning, and she has to be taunting me now for it.

"I'm not changing. You don't own me, I'm not yours."

But I want you to be.

"I know, shit, sorry. I just- sorry." There was nothing more I could say before her hand pulled at the front door and she walked out in front of me.