Rain | Harry Styles

5.6

"Make me," she licked her lips, our eyes joining perfectly in the reflection of the large bathroom mirror above the wide sink. 

I raised my eyebrows, her eyes watching me intently as my smirk resurfaced one again, my fingers fumbling with the waistband of my sweats hanging lowly on her body.

"Thing is, Ana Grace, I don't have to make you," I murmured against the shell of her ear, watching her closely through her reflection in the mirror as I nibbled on her skin, my voice dropping down an octave, "because I know you want me to take them off you."

Ana lifted her head a little, leaning the back of it against my shoulder, the simplicity of my words enough for her to arch her back in the slightest, "I don't," she lied.

"Yes you do," I returned lowly, nudging her head gently with my shoulder so her eyes met mine in the mirror once more, "how else am I supposed to touch you, if we have this barrier, hm?"

"You're not being fair," she mumbled shakily, my hand tracing shapes on her waistline before I slid it under the material, two of my fingers drawing a tantalisingly slow line over her underwear. The touch was feathery-light and barely present at all, but it was enough for her lips to part.

"I don't play fair, baby, you should know that by now," I rasped into her ear, drawing my thumb over her covered clit, and relishing in the manner in which she drew her teeth over her lip, arching further back into me as I held her in place in front of me.

I dropped my lips to her neck, her eyes fluttering shut immediately at the contact as they always did, her lips parting in the sexiest way as my tongue ran over her skin, taking it between my teeth and drawing blood to the surface, only to run the flat of my tongue over the skin, soothing the sting. I did the same in the spot behind her ear, moving her hair to the side to provide an easier access for myself, never ceasing the slow lines I drew with my fingers.

"You still want these on?" I asked in a patronising tone, "might have to stop if these stay on," I tugged the waistband between my fingers, snapping it back against her skin in a teasing manner.

"Take them off," she lay a soft demand, and I raised my eyebrows, simply adoring the way I could so easily mess with her head.

"Oh, now you want them off, baby?" I mocked her, deliberately pressing the pad of my thumb to her still-covered clit, a soft whimper leaving her lips. "Beg," I demanded.

"Please, Harry," she whined, and it didn't take long before those words were repeatedly rolling from her tongue, her tone laced with pure and undeniable desperation as my fingers curled around the waistband and tugged them swiftly down her legs. She stepped out of them, and I mentally smirked at the fact the sweats were back in my possession. 

I didn't stop there, my fingers drawing continuous circles between Ana's legs, my smirk only growing.

"Fucking hell, you're soaked," I murmured huskily into her ear, watching her eyes flutter shut once more as I slid my hand into her underwear, my hand finally coming into contact with her heat, "Watch."

Her eyes didn't open, though she took her lip between her teeth, a breathy chuckle leaving my own lips.

"Open your eyes, Ana," I demanded, sliding two fingers into her, "watch me fuck you with my fingers, pretty girl." Her eyes opened slowly, our eyes interlocking through the surface of the mirror, her back still pressed firmly to my chest. I could feel how drenched my fingers were already as I pulled her underwear down her legs and drew my fingers back from her entrance, bringing them to my lips. I closed my mouth around them, sucking her moisture from them as she watched intensely, biting down so harshly on her lips I could've sworn she drew blood. I pushed my fingers back into her, slowly this time, relishing in every single centimetre of her as her lips parted again, her head meeting my shoulder and it only took the curl of my finger for her head to roll forward and her eyes to meet mine as I'd demanded.