lovelorn [h.s.]

t h i r t e e n

A.N.
hope you enjoy this chapter, I think you're going to love & hate it ;)

S C A R L E T T

Our lips together are magnetic, electric. They spark together like a match, fire igniting through my veins and fuelling the burning passion that's been sitting dormant at the pit of my stomach for weeks, desperate for someone to set it alight. And now he has. He's the fuel I needed to set me on fire.

Both of our hands are greedy and trembling as we grasp onto each other, grabbing any part of our bodies that we can reach, pulling at the material of each other's clothing that is the only barrier between us. Between the clawing hands and low moans, we're almost animalistic, the building tension and alcohol all combining to send us both into an uncontrollable frenzy.

Harry's hands are wandering my body as his tongue delves deeply into my mouth, gifting me with the heavenly feeling of his tracing my own. My mind is cloudy and it's now impossible to think straight with the ferocity that he's kissing me with, all the need and want spilling out between our mouths. I let out a gasp when I feel his hands gripping the back of my thighs, hoisting me up onto the edge of the sink behind me. Without disconnecting our lips, he moves to stand in between my legs, a gentle moan of desperation escaping my throat just from the feeling of him being there. My legs involuntarily reach out and wrap themselves around his waist, reeling him in even closer.

"Fuck, Harry," I moan, feeling my back arch when he slides his lips along my jaw and down my neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses in his wake. My eyes flutter closed and I lean back, my fingers tangling between his curls as he sucks on the skin of my neck like he wants to engrave his mark there forever.

When I've had enough, I use my grip on his hair to yank him back up to me, taking him by surprise when I slam my lips back to his. He runs his tongue along my lips before pushing it back against mine, one of his hands reaching up to grip my cheek, tilting my head upwards to him. His other hand is teasingly running up and down my left thigh, and soon enough I find myself writhing on the counter just at the thought of what he could do to me with that hand.

You really are so far gone.

I reluctantly pull my lips from Harry's, taking my turn to run them along his jaw and down his neck, raking my tongue down the base of his throat. His eyes roll back, a throaty moan leaving his lips as he grips hold of me tighter, needing me closer to him.

"Scar," he groans, his face screwing up in pleasure as my wicked tongue continues it's sweet assault down his neck. He hisses quietly when my hungry teeth nip at his skin, only to soothe the sting seconds later.

The sight of him like this because of me drives my imagination wild, because we both know I could make him lose his mind if I got the chance, and from how I'm feeling, I think he could do the same to me. I suddenly feel the urge to rip each other's clothes off and let him do whatever he wants to me, and I can do whatever I want to him. God knows we'd both enjoy it.