You're So Golden |H.S|

Chapter 48

His eyes look up into mine, staring at me with a hungry look i've never seen before. It's intimidating yet so intriguing, I just can't seem to look away.

"Talk to me, what's on your mind?" he whispers, tapping his hand against my lower thigh, helping my lift my hips forward as he grips onto the lace, tugging my underwear down past my knees slowly and seductively.

What's on my mind? Hmm I wonder what I could be thinking right now Harry.

Probably not anything therapy related.

"Why can't we talk about this lat- ahh" I cry out, feeling Harry's rough hand slam down against my inner thigh, leaving a stinging like feeling tingle against my skin.

Looking up to Harry he stares at me with a calmed expression. His lips pressed tightly together, his jawline piercing on display, and his shoulders shrugged like he didn't just do what he did.

"Answer me" he demands, rubbing his hand against the red mark that's the shape of his hand that he had left, "please, just trust me" he says nicely, kissing over the spot one last time.

Clamping my eyes shut in frustration, I take a deep breath, and fall back down to the pillow so i'm left staring at the ceiling.

Where do I even begin? And how do I talk about what's bothering me without hurting Harry or his feelings.

And how do I talk about any of this if his head is in between my legs? This is insane.

"Can you like ask me some question? You know do this quiz style? Because i've never been good with giving speeches and i'll start rambling- oh my fuck" I cry out, feeling Harry's tongue just barely graze against my clit.

"No" he shrugs, looking up into my widened eyes while I look back down at him with creased brows, "what's bothering you?" he asks again, this time sounding more angry and frustrated with my stalling attempts, but what else am I supposed to do?

I've been to therapy a few times but the session never start or finish like this. I'm normally sitting on a chair or a couch, not on someone's face.

"Everything! I'm stressed out about a lot of things- but-" I grip onto the sheets, struggling to get my words out when he rubs his thumb against my sensitive nerves.

"What's everything? Let's start from the beginning, alright? Have you always had trouble sleeping? Or did that only start with me?" he asks, sounding completely concentrated on the conversation, not paying any attention to what he's doing, and it somehow still feels the best it ever has.

Shrugging my shoulders, I let out a breathless moan that claws its way out of me, "No- well I mean yeah but it's not because I don't like sleeping here-" I whisper, crying out as my words jumbled together, trying my best to speak through the immense amount of pressure he's adding to my lower stomach-abdomen area.

"This is a safe place Ariana. This is for you, not me, so don't worry about hurting my feelings. Instead be honest with me and yourself so we can let some of that awful weight off of your chest" he explains, picking up the pace with his thumb, circling around my damp skin in a quickened rhythm, that makes it hard for me to concentrate.

Although I agree he's right, this conversation would probably be a lot more easier for me to comprehend if he was standing in front of me, not teasing below me.

"I- I don't know where to start I-" I try to explain to him but get interrupted again by the ache I feel in between my legs, spilling through my body, which causes my toes to curl and eyes shut quickly.

Harry nods his head as he listens, "do you choose not to sleep because you're afraid of what you may see, or do your thoughts keep you up at night, or do you just find it difficult to sleep in general?" he asks me, dragging his open lips against my thigh in a hungry kiss.