Just Love

34. My Medicine

‘Where?’ He commanded.

I began to protest again but I was instantly stopped by Harry’s brash words, straight away silencing me for him to deal with.

‘I asked you a question,’ he murmured, leveling his face with mine.  ‘Where?’

Glancing in to his eyes, I then averted my eyes in the direction of the floor, hoping that Harry would get the message.  Even though Harry was slightly daunting me, that didn’t stop my face from flushing a deep shade of red.

‘He touched you there, did he?’ Harry clarified.  My head bobbed up and down, confirming his question.  All of a sudden, I spotted a change of emotion in Harry’s eyes as his contracted jaw loosened, his expression softening as a result.  However, my thoughts that Harry had slightly calmed down were dashed in an unexpected turn of events.

One that left my mind reeling.  Yanking my arms, he spun me around until the heat of his chest traveled along the length of my back.  His breath glided across my cheeks, drifting past my ear as he unhurriedly moved his mouth against the shell of my ear, the soft texture of his lips barely grazing my face yet the tickle of his curls practically intensifying the proximity of how close he was.

Bringing one of his hands to the waistband of my underwear, a finger slipped underneath it.

‘Did he put his hand here?’ Harry asked, his mouth carefully pronouncing every letter for me.  Lacing his long fingers with mine, he brought it close to my aching area.  I could practically see his lips twitch up when I sucked in a sharp breath, my heart racing and thumping hard against my chest.  Light-headedness vaguely overtook me as I unsteadily focused all my concentrated effort on the floor beneath my feet - until Harry chose to carry along with the act of torture.

‘Did he…?’ Trailing off, I sensed Harry stirring to the other side of my face, his fingers finding their way to my chin.  Gently grasping it, my head twisted in the direction of his, giving him an easier access to whisper words that he knew would make me completely wet.

‘… I want you, baby.  Won’t you come to me?’ With the careful stroke of his fingertips against my throat, I found my hand contorting beneath his from the pain of having to struggle with the pleasure slowly building up inside of me.

‘I’m not mad at you,’ Harry suddenly spoke in my ear, the undertone of his voice meeting well with my eardrums.

‘What?’ I asked, jerking my head away from him.

‘Well, I’m only mad that Liam got to leave you a lovebite and I didn’t.’

‘Harry-, I-, you-.’ Taking in a deep breath, I let the air stream out.  The sudden outrage was uncontrollable that I couldn’t even pinpoint on my thoughts of what Harry just did among the coil of curse words lodged in my skull.

‘You are a prick and I bloody hate you.’

I imagined Harry’s signature smirk planted on his face as he answered, ‘Then why are you still holding my hand?’

Wrenching out of his grip, I whirled around to face him in the most dignified fashion I could muster before storming away with my dressing gown I picked up along the way billowing behind me.

‘I have a brunch to assist.’

 Charging into the kitchen, I let out an anguished cry of frustration and aggravation, one that interpreted the question that always came to mind whenever my day turned for the worst.  Why me? Why bloody me? The rattling noise of ice cubes clinking against glass brought me from my self-loathing back to incessant reality, filling the void of tortured silence inhibited from recent experiences.  One I hoped to never relive again.