Lone [MATURE HS]

Chapter 17.*

I place my hands on his chest, leaning onto him with my hair falling to one side of my face. One of his hands trails from my thigh to my waist, fingers slipping beneath the cotton of my little baby blue t shirt. I sigh softly at the feeling of his hands on my bare skin, leaning down to press a gentle, slow kiss on his awaiting lips. The hand slips further up beneath the soft cotton, fingertips tracing the curve of my breast as his lips kiss me harder. He suddenly slips his hand up again, gliding over my breast, clamping that hand there while the other dips beneath my tee and rests on my lower back.

A soft whimper escapes my mouth, breathing it out on his. I'm getting worked up by just the touch and feeling of his hands, sensitive to the slightly rough texture and perpetual, sexual link to them. I feel his tongue slip into my mouth, my eagerness getting the best of me as my hips shift onto his. The gliding motion makes him exhale roughly through his nose, nostrils flaring. The thin fabrics of my pajama pants and my underwear allow me to fill the rigid, prominent outline of him. My cheeks grow hot as he squeezes my breast and presses the pad of his thumb onto my nipple, tracing small circles around the sensitive skin.

"Hmm," I pull away from his lips, sitting up as he drags his hand down my stomach, out from beneath my shirt and resting on my thigh again. I bite into my bottom lip, fingers gripping the bottom of my shirt and pulling it over my body. I toss is to the floor and I'm pleasantly surprised when he sits up, a hand stroking my back while his lips attach to my neck. My reddened, kissed lips part, hands slipping into his wild hair, post frenzied handling courtesy of me. I feel him suck against the skin, harshly and bitting gently into the newly sensitive skin. My hips move a little harder into his, and he groans against my skin, warm breath making me shudder.

Frenzied movements urge us to take off our clothes, or what is left of them. I feel him feverishly pull my pajama pants down along with my thong, pushing the soft fabric just above my knees. He pushes me flush against his chest, lifting me a little to be able to pull the fabric all the way down and off of me entirely. I huff gently when being placed down again, eager hands clamping to my bum. My hands place themselves over his sharp jaw, feeling the light stubble there. The daylight makes eye contact so intimate and raw, I shut my eyes even before he kisses me. I feel him hard and hot beneath the fabric of his boxers, pressed against my bare crotch.

I moan into his lips, feeling bold as I dig my fingers into the hem of his boxers, pushing them down his hips. My hands brushing over the warm skin of his hips. We uncomfortably manage him out of them after a moment of stressful pause, before he presses me onto him, my body aching to feel him. A shaky breath escapes my lips, dragging a hand down his toned stomach, gripping him in my hand. He moans again, pushing his hips up in desperate need for attention. His fingers dig into my thighs, clamping down on them. I sigh, letting him drag his lips from my own to my neck. When my eyes flicker to the wall, my heart lodges up my throat, but not from Harry.

I'm perplexed and distracted, knowing that I saw something. My lost eyes follow the front door as it shuts slowly. Harry groans beneath me, and I snap out of my thoughts when a hand of his squeezes my bum. My hands fall behind his shoulders, pressed against his hot skin. My confidence rises at the idea of being on him, but I put my desperate needs aside, feeling him pull me tighter to him, lips never leaving my jaw, neck, and collarbones. "Harry," I breathe, trying to get his attention. He grips my waist and continues to kiss my skin, and I have to move away. "Harry."

"Hmm?" He hums questionably, dragging his lips up my neck, and then looking up at me, finally. He takes one look at my face. "What's wrong?"

"I...the door -- I think I saw it open," I stammer out in a quick breath, eyes glued to the front door other than Harry, who watches me carefully. Half of me thinks he'll just brush it off, tell me it's nothing. Before he can speak, I add, "I thought.."