Tessa's POV.

"Oh no you don't," he coolly remarks, "you tell me what you would want me to do first."

"I already did." I state, sipping on the bottle of wine.

"Chug some more wine, you only seem to tell me what you want when you've been drinking."

My thoughts are  slightly hazy, my head feels full and heavy, but in the best way. I'm grinning from ear to ear, intoxicated from the wine and Harry's thick voice. I love this playful side of Harry, and if he wants to play, I'll play.

"Fine, I want you to bend me over this bed here," I run my index finger along the cool wooden frame. "and take me the way you did on that desk." Instead of embarrassment,  I only feel the warm flush of heat trailing up my neck to my cheeks.

Harry curses under his breath, I know that he didn't actually expect me to answer. "Then?" he asks quietly.

"Well.." I start, pausing to take another long swig of the white wine to gain confidence.   Harry and I have never done this before, he has sent me a few racey text messages in the past,  but this.. this is different.

"Just say it, don't be shy now."

"You would hold me by the hips, the way you always do and I would cling to the bedsheets to keep myself stable, your fingers would dig into me, leaving marks in their wake.." I clench my thighs together when I hear his breathing hitch through the line.

"Touch yourself." He says and I quickly look around the room, momentarily forgetting that no one can hear our private conversation.

"What?  No." I harshly whisper, cupping the phone.

"Yes."

"I'm not doing that.. here. They will hear me." If I were talking to anyone other than Harry  about this I would be completely horrified, wine or not.

"No they won't. Do it. You want to, I can tell."

How can he? Do I want to?

"Just lay back on the bed, close your eyes, spread your legs, and I'll tell you what to do." He commands.

"But I.."

"Do it." The authority in his voice makes me squirm while my mind and my hormones battle it out. I can't deny that the idea of Harry coaxing me through this over the phone, naming the dirty things he would do to me, raises the temperature of the room at least ten degrees.

"Okay, now that you've agreed, " he begins without me  speaking my consent, "tell me when you are only wearing your panties."

Oh my.

I quietly pad over to the door and turn the lock between my fingers. Kimberly and Christian's room, along with Smith's,  is on the upper level of the house, but as far as I know they could still be on the first floor with me. I listen closely for movement and I hear a door shut above me, that's a good sign.

I hurry and grab the wine bottle,  finishing it off. The heat inside of me has turned from a small flicker to a blazing inferno and I try not to overthink the fact that I'm stepping out of my pants and climbing onto the bed, wearing only a thin cotton shirt and panties.

"Still with me?" He asks, a smirk is sure to be on his face.

"Yes, I'm.. I'm preparing." I can't believe I'm really doing this.

"Stop overthinking it, you'll thank me after."

"Stop knowing everything that I'm thinking." I tease, hoping that he's right.

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