Duplicity [h.s]

86

thank you for you're patience! this is a very long chapter so it took some time like usual. I wanted to make it as perfect as I could.

Aven Brooks

His voice was full of uncertainty when he just gave me a single request that would be so normal from anyone that wasn't him. From him, it's something very heavy.

I wish I wasn't intoxicated for this moment—but I had a feeling I was gonna sober up real quick.

"Shower, together?" I try to contain my excitement, keeping the serious look on my face.

He nods timidly.

"Like...naked?" My questions are dumb but I'm slightly in shock.

He rubs the back of his neck, nodding again.

I keep my eyes on him, watching how nervous he was from saying that. My heart thrashes at the thought of taking a shower together, letting me see him shirtless for that long. Things like that I once dreamed of but I knew came with a price. As much as I just wanted to smile and jump into his arms, I had to be patient.

"Are you ready for that?" I whisper, knowing that was a huge step for him.

Standing in the bathroom doorway, I stare at him in need of a serious answer that would have to be convincing enough for me to let him go through with that. I don't want him to spiral into something because he didn't think this through enough.

"I have to try." He mumbles.

"You don't have to do anything." I make clear from his words.

"I want to try." He corrects, eyes burning into mine.

I blink in my stare, "do you usually shower with your shirt off?"

He nods, "I do most of the time but avoid looking down at myself. If I'm having a particularly bad day then I won't."

"You think you'll be okay?" I whisper in certainty, wanting it more than anything but not wanting to push him. He had to completely make this decision himself, with no persuasion.

"I-I don't know." He shakes his head. "But if I was ever going to, I want it to be tonight."

A smile moves up my face, the showerhead pelting in the bathroom behind me while the upbeat music from downstairs muffles through the drywall. The thought that he's willing to take a chance on something so terrifying in order to make a step forward with me is amazing.

"Me seeing you without your shirt will change nothing between us tonight. I know what you look like already, and I've told you how beautiful I still think you are. If you want to take this step with me, I'll cherish the moment forever. But if you want to even wear the shirt and still shower with me, I'll cherish that too. This is a decision that is totally up to you, you will not be getting any persuasions from me." I try to use the best words I can considering I was still tipsy.

Silence runs between us like he was deep in thought, it was good, I wanted him to really think about it. Amongst the silence, I speak one more time.

"Just don't do it for me, do it for you."

His eyes meet mine again, a meter stood between us on opposite sides of the doorway. My eyes may be glossed from alcohol and slightly blurred from my contacts being out, but I tried my best to keep my vision on his for the emotional contact.

He curves his hand around the door trim in the direction of the light switch on the bathroom wall, clicking a single button that changed the entire aura of the room.

The bathroom was suddenly glowering purple, catching me discreetly off guard. I turn my head back to look at the depths of the foggy room, seeing the purple glow on every surface. It was a bright neon purple that could almost be classified as pink. As I look back at him in the doorway, he steps forward into my space, causing me to step back. The purple floods his face when he enters the humid room, keeping his eyes down on mine so I no longer see the green of his irises.

He shuts the door behind him as the steam from the running shower became clouds to the ceiling. He steps forward until we were both in the centre of the muggy room. I was mildly confused by why he has purple lights set up in the bathroom.

He shuts his eyes, breathes for a moment. I don't say a word, I just stare up at him. His chest brews up and down in a slow rhythm, hands down by his sides. He's thinking.

Without even speaking, he slowly brings his hands up to the back collar of his shirt. I held my breath out of habit when he pulls the fabric up over the back of his head. The shirt swallows his head as he slides it up his body to expose it completely. I was in slight shock but didn't make it visual on my face.

The fabric leaves his head and drops to the floor, my eyes not leaving his once I saw them again. I was in utter surprise at how fast he did it but also nervous. He went into this with a confident step. Standing in the middle of the purple-glowing bathroom, he opens his eyes on mine and nowhere else. Shirtless in front of me, I find myself scared to look elsewhere.

Silence floods between us, the purple lights blanketing every complexion we once held. My chest rose up and down from the adrenaline, knowing the second I look down an inch I'd get to see his bare chest again. I've seen it but the idea was still so foreign to me.

"Would you like me to look?" It still felt invasive of his privacy.

He nods, keeping his eyes burned into mine like it was his only safe zone. He kept a chiselled expression on his face but his eyes told me he was in a world of nerves. It was hard detaching contact from them, I didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

I stumble my eyes down to his chest right before me, the purple lights making the pink of his wounds almost invisible. I blinked twice thinking I was just blind from my contacts being out—but it was true. The harsh scars on his front were almost disguised from the ambiguous lighting. You knew they were still there but very faded. His titanium dog tag pendant sat between his chest muscles, the same one he uses to make coke lines.

"In all my apartments, the bathrooms have purple lights because they colour match some of the lighter scars. I don't look at myself, but if it accidentally happens then this tricks me to feel the slightest bit normal." He whispers as I stare at his chest.

The tone in his voice was a little unstable, he's trying so hard to be clear and confident. This was still new for both of us, his skin being exposed like this. The last time he didn't this, he was crying on his knees in front of me. The fact he was holding himself together as hard as he could was astonishing.

The purple lights did wash away a lot of the pink scars, but the scars on his front were not a fraction as bad as the scars on his back. I wanted to glance at the mirror on my left to see, but I decided against it. I understood where he was coming from, this helps him feel ordinary. It hides some of his sins for a moment of time.

His body is so beautiful, no matter the imperfections on his skin. His chest is sculpted of muscle, firm like stone and blanketed in agile skin. His collarbone stuck out mercilessly, adding casted shadows that went all the way to his broad shoulders. His body is a work of art, I wish he understood that. My eyes find themselves trailing down to his abs, the gentle indents of the muscles were just seen enough behind the soft layer of skin. I fell hypnotized to the trail of dark hair leading from his belly button to the band of his black jeans. Even that was so beautiful to me, I'm absolutely mesmerized by him.

I look back up at his eyes after my leisurely tour of his body, they were shut. He didn't want to see me staring for so long, he rather shut his eyes. His chest puffs up and down, I know this must've been hard, even with the purple lights.

"Hey," I grab his hands. "Look at me."

He opens his eyes down into my own, a smile on my face to try and calm him down before anything gets too heavy in his torturous thoughts.

"It's just a body," I rub my thumbs on the top of his hands in my hold. "A beautiful body."

He keeps his cold eyes on mine, trying to find truth in them. I nod to boost his confidence and further support what I just said, I was only telling the truth. I wasn't going to run, or scream, or look at him and disgust. Anyone like that deserves a spot in hell.

"Your father has only ever made you think these marks are anything other than just abuse. They aren't your sins, they aren't deserved, they are just marks. You are a victim and nothing more when it comes to this." I whisper.

He shuts his eyes again, gripping my hands really tight all a sudden like he needed to hold onto something while I spoke like this. He squeezes my hands like they were his only way of knowing this was real life, that I was real life. I held them tightly back.

I look at his biceps and forearms, seeing all the names inked into him from past one-night relations. The names valley tightly up his arms until reaching where a t-shirt sleeve would end, from there they fizzle out to the pure skin of his shoulders. Staring at them just makes me realize how everything on the upper half of his body is permanent—tattoos and scars.

It was odd to me that after all the permanent scars on his skin, he insists on adding to it with more permanent ink. It's not like it was art or anything either, it's names of women he doesn't care about.

"When did you start tattooing the names?"

He breathes, keeping his eyes shut with our hands held for support. "After my father died and I started sleeping around."

Eyeing the tattoos, I put together what they actually meant. He always said they were drunk jokes but I never really stopped to think about Harry and how he thinks about his body. He is so ashamed of himself that he will never take off his shirt. Those scars on his back are irreversible and he hates that. He wishes they weren't permanent. So why would someone who is so ashamed of his body be so ruthless to putting more permanent things on it such as one night stands?

His father used to punish him for his sins, punish him in a way that he had to live the rest of his life seeing them on his skin.

"Harry, are those tattoos your way of punishing yourself for premarital sex?" I whisper in conclusion, finally it's all piecing together.

His jaw clenches, eyes still drilled shut. His head drops in mercy, my hands squeezed tight in his.

He always said they were drunk jokes and that always made sense given the type of person he is. A rich rockstar would do something like that. But then you add in his traumatic past, and now that doesn't make sense.

His father used to punish him for his sins, and premarital sex was one of them. He's punishing himself in the only way he can on his own, tattooing permanent names into his body because he can't hurt himself with a belt like his father once did.

"He wanted my sins to be permanent; sex, lies, disobedience. So when he died, I tattooed every name of someone I...fornicated with as a way to punish myself with something permanent." He answers my thoughts, I was spot on.

I nod to him, everything making so much sense now.

"I put you on my hand because you mean more to me than all the other names but at the same time, I have so much more to punish myself for when it comes to you. More than just sex." He adds, opening his eyes to me.

"Like what?" I whisper in confusion, not liking the fact my name on his hand is another way for him to punish himself.

"I can't explain it," He shakes his head, eyes still shut. "Things I've done to an angel like you are things I should be punished for."

I stare up at his closed eyes, not sure of what to say to convince him otherwise when he was being so vague. I assume he was referring to the past and how terrible his attitude was towards me, how much he hated me.

"It was never about the physical pain when it came to my punishments. The pain was terrible, but it wasn't the worst part of the experience. It was about the aftermath, the scars that would never go away. That was the point of the punishment, so I'd look at myself and be reminded of all the things I've done wrong. So I tattoo names because I'll have to look at them for the rest of my life."

"You're bea—"

"No, I'm not," he doesn't let me finish, his eyes opening down at me. "I'm hideous and I will always feel hideous—but I'm working on being okay with that. And that's because of you. Because you have always stood here through all my shit and still called me an angel despite it all." He explains with his heart in his sleeve.

I stare at him from his explanation, taking it all in. As sad as his words may be, it was growth. He was trying to learn to be okay with the way he looks, whether it's hideous in his eyes or not. I was lost in what to say, how to make him feel better but I don't think I can. He didn't need for me to make him feel better, he was trying it on his own. That strength got him to this point, standing without a shirt in front of me.

I cross my arms over my stomach and throw my shirt over my head so I stand naked from the waist up, just in my underwear now. After that, I undo his belt buckle and the button of his jeans. My fingers pull down the zipper to open up the waist. My eyes stay on his as I do so, wanting him to stay in the moment. I yank down his black jeans so they pool to his knees.

"Step out of them," I state. "But keep your eyes on me."

He listens, lifting each leg up to get his ankles out. At the same time, I hook my fingers in the sides of my cotton underwear and pull them down so they drop to my feet. I stood completely naked now, him just in his black boxers.

I reach forward to them with my eyes on his, pulling down the thick band so they also fall to the floor. Both of us completely bare and vulnerable now, I speak.

"You are the second person to ever see me like this, you know," I state. "So when I stand here with you, I feel vulnerable and almost uncomfortable. But I know no matter what you will never look at me and think I'm anything less than beautiful. So that's why I can stand here and feel okay." I whisper.

He keeps his eyes on mine, slowly nodding in the purple lighting.

"Just understand that's everything I feel about you too," I add. "And no blemish on your body will ever change that."

His eyes stay down on mine, swallowing subtly. He takes in what I was saying, eventually trailing his eyes down to my chest. Before I got to understand what he was fixated on, his hand reached forward to the area. I look down and see him holding up the gold cross on my chest, one I nearly forgot I was wearing. He holds the cross with his thumb and forefinger.

"I forgot I was wearing this still." I lift my hand up behind my neck to unclasp it.

"No—" He stops me, "just leave it on for now."

I look back up at him as he kept hold of the pendant, eyes still on the gold jewelry. His eyes stare at his mother's necklace on my open chest, his thumb rubbing it gently before dropping it back on my skin. I didn't want to say anything more about it, knowing he wants me to keep it a little longer was touching.

I grab his hands and walk back towards the shower. Once I felt the glass panel door, I reach my hand back and gently push it open to feel the wall of steam hit my back. My eye contact breaks as I look down to my feet to step in, still holding his hand to lead him. We get inside the massive glass shower and shut the door to be hidden behind the blurrier glass. His hands stay in mine as I lead us under the stream that was coming from the centre of the ceiling, the hot water eventually submerging the top of my head.

I draw him forward so the water slowly flows down his head and completely washes down his broad shoulders and sculpted body. Our bodies stop moving and stay only two inches apart, water blanketing both of us from head to toe. I keep my hold on his fingers, looking up at him through the water. He looks at me for only a second before shutting his eyes, overwhelmed.

"It's just you and me," I whisper with the water dancing off my lips.

The purple lights devour our bodies, hiding some of the painful histories on his skin. Between his chest muscles, the dog tag pendant soaks under the water, glistening in the liquid. The warm water soothes my naked body, raining down from the ceiling. The steam was thick of tepid humidity, warming every inch of my skin. Harry's eyes stay shut under the waterfall devouring us, his naked chest rising up and down in his attempts to find peace.

I turn around to the ledge, stepping out from under the stream. I look at the different bottles of product, squinting to read what was what. I found the two in one shampoo conditioner, grabbing it off the ledge and turning back around. Staying a few meters away under the water, Harry stood with his arms crossed over his body like he was hiding it a bit, his head down. One arm crossed over his chest and the other diagonal across his abs. The guarded sight made my heart break a bit, knowing he was slightly embarrassed.

I step back up to him under the water with his head down, hiding part of his chest. Instead of saying anything, I pop the cap off the shampoo and squeeze some into my hand. Once I had the perfect amount, I crouch the bottle down on the tiled flooring. With the white lotion in my palm, I rub my hands together and bring it to the top of his head, lathering the shampoo through his wet hair.

He lifts his head as I do so, opening his eyes to me. I glance at his eyes for a second before directing back to his hair. The suds spread the more I scrub his head gently, scrunching my fingers down into the roots to massage it through. Even though I wasn't looking at his eyes, I could feel him staring at mine. The soap washes down his back while I was lathering, his thick hair sopping wet and thick of foam.

His hands lift to his head while I wash, collecting a bunch of the spreading soap on his head and bringing it to the top of mine. My eyes connect back with his to see him staring right into them, arms no longer covering his body as he begins rubbing the shampoo through my hair too. A smile pulls up my lips as he rubs the product through my hair like I was doing for him. His fingers rake through my scalp, lathering the soap through my roots. It was a soothing feeling to have someone else's hands through my hair, practically massaging my head. I nearly hum at the feeling, shutting my eyes.

The water rinses the shampoo at the same time we were washing it through each other's hair, covering our bodies in the hair product that smelled of pine trees and lavender. Once a majority of it was out, I crouch back down and grab the body wash. Repeating the same steps, I extract a good amount into the palm of my hand.

"Would you like me to rub this on you, or do it yourself?" I ask in respect of his boundaries.

He steps forward and flips me around so my back was against him, his lips duck in my ear while stepping me out from under the water stream. He scoops the soap from my hand and rubs it between his palms to get it all soapy. I breathe gently in watch of his hands rubbing together to spread the foam. He brings his hands to my arms first, gently rubbing his hands down them so my skin sponges the body wash. His head stays next to mine, breathing against my ear delicately. When his alluring hands meet the back of my mine down by my sides, he gently runs his fingertips between my own.

His lips lean down into the top of my shoulder, parting his lips against the wet skin to leave a gentle kiss. I shut my eyes and lean back against him more, melting my back into him for support. His fingers detangle from mine and move to my outer thighs, rubbing them up and down to further spread the soap. My stomach knots when he slips his hands to the top of my thighs, dragging his hands up to my hips to where he gently lathers the area of my lower stomach. His fingers teasingly graze between my hips, kissing my shoulder at the same time.

"Don't even think about it." I laugh under my breath, not wanting scented soap to go in a place soap shouldn't go.

He cackles into my shoulder, "I wasn't, don't worry."

His hands lace up my stomach, savouring the soap across my skin like a trail of history on every place he touched me. His open palms graze up to my breasts, smiling into my neck while gripping them cheekily. I smile and shut my eyes, biting my lip to contain my grin.

"You're always so sensitive to my touch." He coaxed pensively, hands palming my chest a bit before moving them to my slides.

"What makes you think that?" I whisper a relaxed hum.

He trails the back of his fingers up and down the side of my ribcages, making my stomach shudder, "I can just feel it."

With no rebuttal, I just nod and keep my head back on his shoulder. His lips continue to place effortless kisses on my neck, slow and sultry like he was savouring the moment.

His hands open back on my sides, suddenly slipping them up so my arms fly up in the air and he washes soap up my underarms. The quick gesture made me laugh and his lips grin hard into my neck, being cheeky. I brought my arms back down and flip around to face him again, purple lights drowning us. A few ringlets of hair hanging freely over the bridge of his nose, my hands inviting themselves to the sides of his neck. Our eyes only met gaze for a moment before he leans down and crashes our lips together, taking my oxygen for his own amusement. I smile into his lips like so many times before, letting him lead me through the kiss.

My soap body presses to his, spreading the suds on his torso. My hands blindly roll down the dips of his shoulders and valleys down his sculpted arms. His hands find my ass, gripping it in his slippery hold and arching me against him. He kisses me harder in duration, robbing me of air like he needed it to breathe.

I latch his bottom lip between my teeth, pausing the kiss to pull it gently and let it go before kissing him again. He moans in his chest at the action, gripping my ass tighter to show the impact it had. I breathe out against his lips and timidly whine back from the momentum.

With a sterile grunt, he flips me back around abruptly so he was towered behind me again. I feel him pull half his body away from me for a second, my eyes on the white marble wall across the shower that was blanketed with purple reflection. In a matter of seconds, I heard another form of water projection. Before I even go to question anything, I saw the handheld showerhead in his hand. He brought it around in front of me, the silver object connected to the wall behind us from a long silver coil. The gentle water gets brought to the skin above my chest, blanketing the soap off my breasts and cascading it down the length of my body.

The water was hot, but the type of hot that walked a fine line between too hot and lukewarm—it was perfect.

I shut my eyes again and rest my head back against his steady shoulder, feeling him valley my skin with the showerhead to rinse me off all the body wash. The water made the hair on my arms stand, the perfect temperature to devour me.

"You're my wife now...do you understand that?" He rasps under his breath.

I nod in loss of words.

He brings the showerhead up across my collarbone, arching it along my shoulders and down my back between us. I hum in peace, the hot water sending me into a tranquil that made me relax but also aroused. He leans his lips into my ear between my hair, kissing it gently. He grips my hip with his free hand, keeping me firm in front of him. The shower spout valley's down each arm, taking its time. When it eventually meet my stomach, I shudder a bit. He circles it around my abdomen before slowly bringing it down to my hips. The thermal water washes down to certain places that send waves of warning through me, my stomach quivering at the same time. He keeps his lips against my ear, breathing gently.

"I just want to please my wife."

The showerhead goes lower, gently moving back and forth between my hips bones, warming me up to extents. My chest began rising up and down more noticeably, the steam in the room beginning to choke me out. I was too in my head to speak, my undivided attention down to what he was doing with the showerhead.

The water gent brought down to the most agile spot, warm water grazing between my legs and cascading along my core. My stomach knots at the initial feeling of the hot water exploring new territory, igniting it. An electric wave washes up my body in bliss, my lips parting.

He sticks his foot between my two, shoving one over so it would separate and open my legs a bit more. His hand that grips my hip transition to wrapping around my stomach to hold me up against him. The warmth of the gentle stream heats down my slit and gives me a heartbeat of pleasure. It's a type of pleasure I couldn't explain—gentle and comfortable. It's a slow burn that got my whole body tingling. The gentle pressured water, lacing up and down me with control of his wrist.

"Does that feel nice?" He chose the word nice rather than good, knowing this was a more gentle feeling than times before.

I nod frantically, humming a yes from the loss of my voice. He kisses my shoulder in response, continuing to graze the passionate water up and down my core. I breathe out into the steam trapped shower chamber, opening my eyes for a second to just see purple.

"You know what's nice about a showerhead like this?" He whispers deeply, breathing against me.

I shake my head in no.

His arm unwraps from my stomach, "it has different settings."

Suddenly the showerhead stream switches from the gentle setting to a pressure jet. I choke out a gasp and buck my knees so I slip down his body a few inches before he clutched his arm back around my stomach to stop me, holding me up against him tight.

"Shh...shh..." He shushes me quietly, "I'll be careful."

I pinch my eyes shut as the hot pressured water shot just below where all my nerves were, switching gears in this completely. If he puts that right on my clit then I'm a goner. He laces the aggressive water up and down, exploring every area so I warmed up to the feeling. My body was an erratic mess already, gripping his thighs behind me. It felt good but powerful. This flipped into relaxing to a very arousing situation. The longer he did it, the more I was begging for more.

I look down for a second to see his tattooed arm bound around my stomach and the other hand holding the silver shower head a few inches from my core, pressured water jetting out from the center of it. The water bounds to every sensitive part of me, tingling my nerves. The sight made me choke a moan and toss my head back against him again.

"Harry—that feels good," I tell him.

"Yeah?" He antagonizes me, prodding for more.

"Yes, really good." I nod frantically with my eyes tapered shut.

He gently leads it closer to my clit, making sure to not go straight on it but around it instead. He gently circles the water around the collection of nerves, making another whimper escape my lips in mercy. I've never felt something like this before, it was a different type of pleasure. A heartbeat between my legs was pulsating at the stimulation, the hot pressure feeling so euphoric.

You're telling me I went all my life without doing this to myself in the shower?

It was such a new pleasure that I knew it wouldn't take me long until it sent me into an orgasm. I fall weak in moans and grips on his thighs behind me. My knees buck once in a while, enduring these alternate forms of reflexes from these stimulations. My chest was burning at this point, scaling up and down from my lungs trying to retain air to function. It felt like my body was failing because all my thoughts and functions were drawn to one area.

He reaches a certain spot that sent me into bliss, my nails digging into his thighs and a yelp to leave my lips in a gesture to stay there.

"Right there—fuck Harry..."

He grunts into my neck and tightens his arm around my stomach, keeping the showerhead on a specific spot just the left of my clit. I was an unravelling mess of moans at that point, clenching my body without control. I felt how hard he was against my body, getting pleasure from what he was doing to me. His cock was pressed up between us.

I reach my hand back between us and grab it at the base, angling it forward so he slides tight between my thighs and along my core. He wasn't inside me, just along me from behind. I press my thighs together a little more so his length was tight between them.

A groan leaves his lips from the placement of his cock between my thighs and along the place he was holding the showerhead. His hips gently drag back and forth in temptation, rubbing his tip along the wetness between my legs from behind. I moan at the other form of stimulation of a gentle grind while he kept the water pressure where I needed it the most.

"Fuck Angel, you're killing me." He grunts with a headshake into my shoulder, rocking his hips between my closed thighs and grazing my entrance at every push.

I choke a moan from the showerhead, losing breath and aching a cry in overwhelmed pleasure. The ballon in my lower stomach was getting bigger, signalling me an approaching orgasm. I cuss recklessly and grip his thighs behind me harder.

"Yes, y-yes—I'm gonna c—" I was a flustered idiot, barely making any sense with my words but I didn't care.

He groans at the thought, kissing my neck and lacing up into my ear. He breathes heavily and feels the build with me, a burn in my loins causing me to fall apart and lose control of my speech and actions. I whine a need of leverage, my eyebrows furrowing.

"Show me." He gravels into my ear with challenge.

I ache a cry as the internal balloon pops and washes an orgasmic wave through me. In reflex, I shove the showerhead away from my pulsing nerves so it slips out of his hands and bangs to the tiled floor. He immediately snaps his empty hand to my clit and rubs it in circles to aggressively ride out the high. I choke, my knees bucking again as I almost fall to the floor. I bend over in moans as he bends over with me, not letting me escape the fast circling on my clit that was too much to handle.

My core pulsates rapidly at the hard orgasm, my body doubled over his forearm on my stomach with trembles of overwhelmed cries of pleasure. He lets loose of my clit and rubs his fingers up and down my slit to surface me from the high, my body flinching from the stimulation. He grunts in lust and spreads my wet orgasm up and down my trembling nerves. I fall immediately weak, my knees shaking.

"Fuck sakes—" He cusses in his throat, yanking me back up straight.

He flips me around and lifts me so my shaky legs tie around his hips, quickly he finds the nearest wall to hold me up against. We leave the water stream in this large shower and meet the condensate marble wall. I was still flustered from my orgasm, but I needed him inside me right now. In my neck, he pants heavy in the cling of our bodies, my chin on his shoulder while I fish my hands down between us to grab his shaft again.

I firmly grasp it with my left hand, my other arm wrapped around the back of his neck to keep me up around him. I stroke him twice before pressing his tip just before my soaking core to satisfy the aching need I was feeling for him. He was hard as he could be, one glance at it and I know I'd be intimidated like many times before.

Pressing just his tip against me, I swivel it in a gentle circle so he could feel how wet I am for him. It was a different kind of wet them that was all over our bodies. He takes pleasure in the subtle action, stammering a grunt into my neck as I teased the most sensitive part of him with my post-orgasm leaking out of me.

In control, I shove his tip into me so the fibres of my body swell around him with the intrusion. The thickness of him alone was pushing against spots that were still shivering from my orgasm. I pant over his shoulder, the same time he bucks his hips forward to do the rest.

I choke out a cry of pressure as his hips become clasped to mine and hug me against the shower wall—taking all of him. It made it easier given how wet I was, his body slipped into mine so easily but still pinpoints all the tight areas that add stomach-tightening pressure. My body was so accommodating to his now, knowing what it needs to take and sometimes making it easier than others. Regardless, I always had to adjust to him.

The woman's body is incredible.

A sterile grunt of mercy aches from his throat, so deep and choppy. His fingertips bite into the skin of my ass and thighs that were holding me up for him. The pinch of his nails was a reflex of his pleasure that only drove me to feel more lust in my stomach. The pelting water echoes through the shower to choke us with steam and passion. My toes curl around his lower back when I endure him pressing so deep into me so my body was forced to modify itself for him. His naked hips kept me nailed to the wall almost like it was another method to hold me there.

With every inch and circumference, he pushed my body to the limit of what it could possibly take. I was so tight around him, knowing the second he begins moving he will rub every euphoric spot hidden deep within me.

"You're so wet for me," he groans into my shoulder as I adjusted to his body, his forehead pressed to the shower wall behind me.

With my arm still clung around his neck and my chin digging into his shoulder, I nod. My eyes were pinched shut, my hand weaving deep into his wet hair for comfort. My chest rose rapidly while the solid pressure of his tip driven against my limit is only so much to handle.

He glides his hips back and jams them forward so my body sparks in heat. I drop my jaw at the sharp thrust, having no time to appreciate the gentle toughness until he did it again and made a rhythm out of it.

In and out he lunges his entirety into me so there's a slow repetitive impact of wet skin filling the thick shower. His hands only clenched me harsher under my thighs, a reverbed vibration aching through his chest in exhilaration. My eyes were too in defence mode to open up, all the attention going to the intrusion of my body he was fucking slow but sharp.

He was pressing me so tight to the wall that I had no room to squirm or arch. It's almost like he just wanted me as close as possible in the desperation I stay. He's so deadlocked to the wall with me in between, it came off as emotional. I was pinned against the surface with his body that was so indulging in mine. My chin glues to his shoulder because I had no room to move my head anywhere else. Feeling this close to him was a merciless journey, his wet naked skin stuck to mine.

Holding the back of his head with one hand and around his neck with the other, I pant into his ear.

"You feel so good like this," I whisper in truth, meaning it in so many more ways than one. "Never stop being like this with me."

The fact his shirt was off during this whole experience is so mind-boggling to me. I had nothing but pure amazement at how hard he was trying and how much he was trusting me. He's managed to be shirtless for so long without a breakdown, it could happen any moment but regardless I was proud.

In answer, his thrusts pick up a bit. He nods into my shoulder with agreement, hips moving quicker but keeping those sharp thrusts that made my insides scream and clench. I echo a whimper and clutch to him in reflex. The sweet sounds of his pleasure rally against my ear with brute and vibrance. The natural rasps of his scratchy voice only made his moans so heavy.

Our bodies slap together in the rhythm of pure lust and fantasy, my back inching up and down the wall at every raw drive of his body coursing through me. I take the time to give him a kiss on his neck, the skin so tepid. When I press my mouth against it and shut my eyes, I could feel his riveting pulse. It beats strong and panicked against my lips, I only felt more connected with him when feeling something as personal as that.

"Fuck sakes Av," He breathes out with tolerance, rocking his hips vastly. "I'm trying so hard for you..."

I pant a nod into his shoulder, wanting nothing more than for him to unleash his every stress so he wouldn't focus on the fact he was shirtless for me.

He grunts and picks up even more, nailing me into the cold marble wall with the intention to push me into an impenetrable spiral. I whine out with a clench of my core and abdomen, hearing him cry out like that clench winded him. My legs fall loose on his hips but he was so determined to keep me up by the grip below my thighs.

I tug his hair sharply, so hard that his head cocks back and I got to see his face for a moment. His eyes were clamping shut, cheeks red from heat and jaw hung in pure bliss. The tough clutch on the back of his head was making him face the ceiling, thrusting sharply into me and feeling every fulfillment that came with it. Sweat coats his face, he was like art. You could see his throat bulging from his neck when his head was back, the lump of cartilage moving up and down when he throbs for air.

I let go of his head so it disappears back behind my shoulder and presses into the wall, his body curling into me in need of having me close in any way he could. Every hard stroke grazed all the tight spots inside me and ended right at the limit, hitting it over and over again so I felt the tightness in my stomach and abdomen. The pressure of this angle was insane, digging into me deep.

"Av, I need you to do something for me if you're up for it." He grunts into the side of my head, not stopping the movement of his hips.

I nod relentlessly, I'll do anything at this point.

"I...fuck..." He cusses in the pleasure, finding it hard to concentrate. "I need you to touch my back at one point, okay?"

His request brought me joy but all so made my body tighten in fear of what could come from that. It was a request I never in a million years would expect. Thinking about how long it took for him to take off his shirt for me to this was making me nervous. I obviously have no issue touching his back, I've wanted to touch him like that since the beginning. I'm just scared he wasn't ready for that.

"What if you spiral?" I warn.

"Please...I've never felt someone else's skin against there before. I need to know how it affects me." He pleads like he was dying for it. "Just don't tell me when it's coming."

Despite the horror that could come with this, I nod. I'm so pleased with how brave he's being with this, really wanting to make progress with me and himself. Knowing no one has ever touched him there was a big deal to me, he's never felt anything there but the abuse.

"Of course." I agree, how could I not?

The last thing I want is for that simple touch to send him into overload. I'm scared he won't be able to handle it as much as he thinks he will. He's so on an adrenaline high right now that he probably feels invincible in this moment fuelled by sexual charge and the emotion we have for each other. I would love nothing more than to appreciate his body in ways no one ever has, but there's a consequence to everything. This night might end in a panic attack he can't escape.

He grunts in his fast thrusts that swallow all my attention, indulging in each other. The air was so thick that I began to sweat. The back of my neck was like a furnace under my weighted wet hair, trapping all the heat exuding from my body and the hot water steaming the glass.

Repeatedly feeling him slide in and out was such a heavy feeling I'd never completely adjust to. I could feel every texture of his cock, where his tip met the base, the vessels filled with sexual tension. Feeling these things drive tightly inside me only added to the pleasure when hitting all the right spots.

In weakness I glide my forehead into the crook of his neck and pinch my eyes shut, grasping him tight to endure every inch of him at this speed.

"You're gonna be the death of me..." I whimper into his neck, pulling his hair so he could feel my seriousness.

He moans in response, getting harsh with his thrusts that knock against my pelvic muscle. The bottom of my spine was grinding into the shower wall when I clung desperately to him like this. I knew it would be sore tomorrow.

My back keeps sliding up and down the wall as he only gets rougher. His grip on the flesh of my thighs turns into a raw clutch for dear life. His broad shoulder nails against my throat so the back of my head gets trapped into the marble wall behind me. He breathes hotly down my neck in endless grunts of pleasure that were gradually getting more aggressive. My legs fall weaker, the bitter thrusts getting harder to handle.

My jaw drops open as I dig my hand violently into his hair to illustrate the emphasis of this moment. I whimper out at the hard knocks of our bodies colliding in heavy momentum. He was fucking me so roughly against this wall that for a moment I thought we would break through the tile, his forehead against the marble to get as close to it as he could.

"Fuck...fuck...fuck." He stifles through his teeth in loss of discretion.

I gasp out for air in this thick steam, my face probably red as hell from the heat. His actions were becoming animalistic as his feral side steps forward. That switch was one I've seen before, and when it gets too bad he ends up regretting it later on. Something in him takes over and it usually stems from a place of protection. He wants power in areas he feels weak. Being shirtless, I'm positive he feels very weak.

"G-god...Harry—" It felt so good at the same time.

Nailing me against this wall I feel a tightness in my stomach that was reacting to the severity of his thrusts, fucking the absolute sanity out of me like it was a conquest. No grip in his hair was expressing what I was feeling.

In an impulse decision, I take my hand out of his hair and unwrap my other from the back of his neck. Without giving myself time to doubt with this rough pounding he was giving me, I reach under his arms and place my hands right on his upper back.

Touching him there for the very first time.

The moment my palms rest on the tarnished skin of all his pain and suffering, he flinches with a winded gasp like the oxygen was robbed carelessly through his lungs—his hips bucking forward in the startle of it all. 

Catching him so off guard, he locks his every muscle and released one of my thighs to grab the wall instead. His head drove down into my shoulder with a slight hunch of his back, knees bending a bit as weakness washed over him. His wet hair sprawls my neck and shoulder while I kept my open hands soft on the skin between his shoulder blades, being the first to ever touch him in such an abused place.

"Breathe baby," I whisper at the side of his head, keeping my hands frozen on his back.

His curled back rises up and down under my hands when he gasps for air in my wet shoulder. Humid breathes of desperation recede down my body from his own anxiety trying to control itself. He's gasping for air like he ran a marathon. Not one word left his lips, no stop or no head shakes. I didn't know where the limit was with this.

The effect on him was one I didn't expect, but I'm also not sure what I ever expected from this. I almost wanted to pull my hands away and hope I didn't make a terrible mistake agreeing to this, but something in my heart was telling me to just wait a few more seconds and let him adjust to the fresh feeling. I wasn't scratching nor applying harsh pressure, I was weightlessly laying my palms against the skin.

I continue to feel his heavy pants of distress against my skin, his body slumped into me like he wanted to hide from the world. My legs remain bandaged around him with my back fastened into the wall.

"Tell me to stop," I whisper as we completely went on pause with the sex, his body still drilled many inches into mine but as unmoving as could be.

He didn't answer, he just kept breathing into my shoulder. My eyes were open to face the opposing wall, keeping my hands as still as could be. As I was feeling the skin for the first time, I notice how rough it was with different varieties of texture. There was only so much history I could feel with my palms held in one place. Near my fingers, I felt tough skin that's almost scab-like. Near my palms, I felt small and large welts all mixed together from infections that never healed. I remember what his back looked like the first time he showed me, it helped me understand what I was feeling.

Regardless of every imperfection on your skin, nothing made me want to pull my hands away from you, Harry. You were never disgusting to me like you believed you were.

"Sorry—" He feels the need to apologize into my shoulder from the fact we paused having sex. He's so overwhelmed, I can tell by how tense his body is against me.

"Look at me," I whisper.

Slowly, he brings his head out from the darkness of my shoulder and transitions it against my forehead. His eyes stay shut like it was too much for him to open them, that's okay. I kept my hands on his broad back, looking at him trying to concentrate.

"You're doing so great," I whisper insincerity. "It's just a touch, by me. You know I would never hurt you."

He breathes slow and deep, keeping his eyes wired shut. I wondered what the carnival in his head was telling him, I pray he wasn't hearing his fathers voice.

Very very slowly, I drift my hands down his back—stopping at the middle and going back up. The second my hands glide delicately across his textured skin, his jaw drops and he tightens up again. His forehead drills harder against mine as a result of his reflex—a flustered choke escaping his throat.

"You're okay," I whisper. "I'm not going to hurt you."

I may be repetitive with my words but I'm starting to understand what he needs to hear in times like this, whether it's once or ten times. I want his brain to understand I wasn't going to harm him. Gently rubbing his back, he stays dead still like it was taking all his energy. The look on his face made me feel like this simple touch had more of an effect on him than anything sex could offer.

"Talk to me," I murmur, needing to know what he's thinking. If this was too overwhelming then I wanted to stop.

"It's—okay...just.." He breathes through his stammering words. "It's just new."

"Would you like me to stop?" I whisper, almost touching his lips when I speak.

He shakes his head against mine, keeping his eyes wired shut. I was partially surprised by his dedication to getting through this. My hands continue running up and down his back, feeling every raised scar in its passing. Getting to touch him like this was so intimate, I could do it all night.

The dreams I've had of just getting to rub your back...

He controls his breathing, slowly starting to draw his hips back. He glides out half his length before drifting it forward again, trying to get the strength to continue where we paused. I breathe out in the gentle strokes while he tries to focus, my hands running up and down his back timidly. He was trying so hard and I appreciated it so much. I just hoped he was doing this for him, not me.

The slow rock of his hips mixing with the slow rub of my hands creates emotional friction between us. Despite the leisurely pace, my heart races like a paced drum. Part of all this felt so surreal like I was dreaming. This whole day feels like a bubble I didn't want to pop—so pure and agile.

"Av..." He moans in fluster, letting go of my other thigh so I had to cling my legs harder around his hips. He instead wraps his arms around my back in order to arch me off the wall and press against him. His head buries back into my shoulder, holding me so tight and fucking me slow.

I whine at the feeling of him sliding inside me with a gentle rhythm, grazing every spot that made my head spin. I savour the moment, burying into the side of his head and shutting my eyes. I kiss right above his ear, the strands of his wet hair sticking to me with a pleasant scent of the shampoo.

"Do you feel safe with me?" I whisper against his ear, my voice weak.

"So safe." He breathes with a nod.

I don't know what made me ask that, it just felt so right and once I had the answer I felt a blissful knot in my stomach.

He keeps the slow rocks trying to handle all the emotion. He holds me desperately like I would whither away if he didn't. It felt like his sanity was hanging on by a thread, all his vulnerability on the front line. It amazes me how hard he was trying to handle all of this. It was only a matter of time until it was too much.

"I–I need to stop." He stammers. "I need to switch gears."

I immediately pull my hands off his back, completely understanding and more the less expecting it.

"That's okay," I say into his ear.

"It's nothing you're doing, I just can only handle so much at once." He says in the tone of an apology, arms still wrapped around me.

"Don't explain yourself, we all have limits." I hold the back of his head and wrap my other arm around his neck again.

He pulls us off the wall from my words, unravelling his arms from my back and holding me up by my thighs again. I clench myself around him in the sloppy hold, realizing when my back pushed through the stemmed glass door that we were leaving the shower. In passing of the leaver, he shuts off the water in one motion. Along the purple-lit bathroom he steps us out of the chamber and quickly carries me across the bathroom. 

I barely got to process what was happening until he opens the door to the bedroom so crisp air breezes against my wet back. The lights were off but the glowing purple lights from the bathroom had me able to see him still, just a bit shaded. The far wall of windows overlooking the glowing downstairs pool supplies some light too.

The elevation changed when he tosses me on the bedding that was covered in layers of fresh money. I gasp while the cash flies up around me from the impact of my back barelling into the mattress.

"Harry, I'm all wet!" I laugh, knowing the money I was laying on was going to stick to my damp skin.

He stays standing at the edge of the bed with me laying in front of him, just below his hips. I can see his body but it's in low lighting. A small smile curls up his face as he grabs my one leg and pulls it to the other side of my body so I flip over on the bedding and get positioned on all fours. On my hands and knees in front of him, he runs his hand up my spine.

My back arches with all my wet hair laying to one slide of my head, my chest rising up and down when I felt him rub the head of his cock against my entrance again, tightly grabbing my shoulder ahead of him for leverage. He breathes deep, rubbing his tip up and down the sensitive area before pushing it back into me. He jolts forward so my eyes fall shut and my body jerks ahead once at the impact.

Once his hips were pressed against me with a heavy exhale of mercy, both of his hands find the curves of my hips. His fingers burn harshly into the wet skin before he starts thrusting his body again, going hard so he can feel powerful again unlike minutes before. My hands immediately fist the bedding under all the cash, my mouth falling agap from the fresh angle.

"Oh my g—"

He slaps my ass so I cut myself off, whimpering at the sharp burn to my flesh. The burn fades quickly into a pulsing tingle. He groans like that action had a pleasurable effect on him, listening to me whimper in the receival.

"Do you like it when I do that?" He mutters through his teeth. "Smack your ass like that?"

His sharp thrusts were hard to pull my attention away from. My fists clenching the bed of money while on my hand and knees for him. When I didn't answer as quickly as he wanted, a hand dove in the roots of my wet hair and clutches roughy so my head cocks back.

I gasp at the thought tug and my head being yanked back at its limit, my eyes up on the ceiling before his eyes met mine from leaning over my body from behind. 

"Are you gonna answer me?" He whiskers darkly in demand.

"Y-yes." I swallow through my heavy breathes, looking right up into his eyes while he thrusts into me. The muscles in my neck ache at the backwards stretch.

"Yeah?" He provokes while smacking the same spot again so the fleshed hit fills the room. I whine at the biting burn.

"Yes—" I shut my eyes, white-knuckling the bedding.

"Tell me then." He pushes for more, still holding my head back while fucking me senseless.

"I love it, please do it again."

He smacks the same spot that was still aching. A squeak left my throat while he groans as it brought him satisfaction. The burn was painful but it made the actual sex so much better to me. The pain mixing with the pleasure was a delicate thing that was hard to get right.

He abandons his grip on my hair so my head fell back forward. He grabs my arms and yanks them back so they leave the bedding, my chest plunging down from no longer having a support system to hold it up. He puppets my arms in a fold behind my back, using both of his hands to press down on them so I arch into the bed with my ass in the air and my chest dug in the bedding.

I turn my head to the side and wire my eyes shut, his hips thrashing ruthlessly so you could hear the contact against my skin. A loud groan of superiority left his lips, provoking the aggression in him. He keeps me arch down into the bedding with my arms crossed over my back, fucking me hard on the edge of the bed.

"Fuck—" I cry out at the angle, feeling every inch of him tightly digging into me while creating powerful friction. My stomach knots at every thrust forward that slaps the back of my thighs.

"You're gonna curse for me?" He mutters back with adrenaline in his voice. "Angels aren't supposed to say words like that."

I ball my fists in the hold behind my contourted back, arched viciously for him. His control was the gear he needed to switch into as a distraction from what was happening in the shower. Rubbing his back sent him into such a submissive place I'll never completely comprehend, so now he needed this dominance as a distraction to how he felt five minutes ago.

As long as he isn't thinking about being topless, things would be good.

"Fuck you," I give him what he wants, a reason to be dominant so he can distract his mind from the fact he's visibly naked behind me.

He grunts in anger, fuelling his drive that was thrusting into me with no intention of tolerance. His hands clutch my folded arms tighter on my back, an animalistic vibration leaving his throat.

"Only sluts talk like that." He continues with the battle with dirty talk, muttering between his teeth.

I find the air in my lungs to speak quickly, the pressure in my stomach choking me out.

"You would know," I say back as clear as I could, knowing this pulled his attention away from being completely naked.

He grunts in anger, reaching around to grab my throat and yank me up to him with my hands still behind my back. I was whipped upright on my knees, my back pressing against his chest with his hand tight in my throat. He continues to thrust with his lips against my right ear, my knees digging into the bed of money on the edge.

"You're being a brat again." He mutters in detest.

I laugh through the grip on my aching throat, tossing my wet head back on his shoulder. "I know you get off to it."

"You think so?" He plays along with my taunt.

"Sometimes you need to be put in your place," I whisper, knowing that would push him over the edge with his dominant needs.

He grunts in frustration of me, roughly rocking his hips so he continually fucks the living hell out of me to express his need for control.

"Shit—Harry yes." I moan with my arms still held tight behind my back between us. "Harder."

"You think you can handle harder?" He says almost as a threat into my ear.

"Please—" I beg. "Give it to me harder."

He scolds a strain under his breath while tightening his clutch of my throat and letting go of my arms behind my back. He wraps his forearm around my stomach to keep my back locked against his chest. The mattress dips next to my right knee, seeing his foot coming up on the edge of the bed for better control of his movements. He slows down the speed of his thrusts but goes harder in the impact of them, absolutely nailing me so I couldn't walk tomorrow.

But it felt so good.

I gasp out in the sharpness I asked for, my legs quivering at every hammered thrust. He grunts with me, squeezing my neck and keeping me up on the edge of the bed. I nearly cry out at every rock, feeling the pleasure missing with the increments of pain. We both were a mess of audible turbulence.

"Fuck!" he exclaims in aggression, his left arm fastened tight around my stomach.

"Harry oh my god!" I shout in zero effort to hide my volume.

"Is this what you fucking wanted?" His scratchy tone vibrates his chest against my back, obliterating me.

"Y-yes, please—" I pinch my eyes shut and nearly choke, the pressure in my stomach feeding pleasure down my pelvic muscles. The colours I see behind my eyes just makes me absolutely feral at a peak. "I'm so close."

He leans into my back more by the second, our bodies naturally bending over the bed a fraction with every choppy thrust. He grunts in my ear at every slap against my body, the ribbon in my stomach unravelling from the second at a slow torturous orgasm approaching. It kept building and building with every rock. My arms held behind my back between us couldn't grab anything for leverage. His other hand on my throat squeezed my blood flow so vast that my vision goes blurry. My jaw hangs open in loss of power, a rush pulsating my core he was tightly fucking in and out of.

The build reaches its aggressive peak, seconds before a cry of pleasure filling the room from my lips as I let it go. All then tension between my legs pops and reigns waves of energetic euphoria from my lower stomach to between my upper thighs. My core convulses around him in repetitive clenches I couldn't control, my wet orgasm releasing all over him still sliding in and out of me.

I let go of the heavy breath I was holding after the duration of the high was at its ends, my eyes shooting back open like I was brought back to life. Harry stops his hard drive the second my orgasm mellowed out, slowing down to a stop as my mind was in the clouds and my thighs were trembling in the aftermath. He breathes into my neck for a second as my chest pulses up and down and cold sweat cools me down. I gasp for air, my lungs beating up and down in lack of control.

He lets go of my wrists behind my back and the brace around my throat, my body having no strength to stay up on its own so I unravel forward and crash flat on my stomach like a bag of bones, his body slipping out of mine in the fall. My shoulders burn in their sockets from being held back tightly for so long, my arms sprawl like putty next to me while I pant. My body was in a mess body aching tingles, my heart thumping into the bed of money. My wet hair fans around me as I try to recover from the roughest orgasm I think he's ever given me. I felt like a melted puddle on the bed.

I try to catch my breath, it was so rapid. My back inflates up and down on the bed from my vanished lay on my stomach. I shut my eyes and try to stabilize my airways before I'd need an inhaler. My head was heavy with empty air, making the room spin a bit. I didn't realize I was this unsynchronized with my breathing until I orgasmed. Now my body was drawing attention to what was wrong, and that's the fact I couldn't normalize my breaths.

A hand with my name on it snakes around my throat from behind me, cocking my head back off the bed so my eyes open to see the far wall. Before I got to even think, the blue spout of my inhaler was brought to my lips. Once the plastic was in my mouth, black fingernails push down on the silver canister, cold air shooting down my throat and opening my airways. I inhale the medicated air at the same time, shutting my eyes. He keeps his other hand under my chin to hold my head up off the bed.

I stopped hyperventilating, taking a moment to let the refreshed feeling relax me, the spout of the inhaler still between my lips. After a few soundless seconds, he pulls the plastic out of my mouth and gently lays my chin back down on the bed. My lungs loosen, an aftermath tingle salvaging through my body. I don't know how he knew I needed an inhaler, I must've been very out of breath.

"Thank you." I murmur to him somewhere behind me, my eyes shut while still laying like a sweaty puddle on the bed of money.

Wait...he didn't finish, right?

I open my eyes at the realization we weren't having sex anymore. I try to jog my memory to remember if he came or not, I don't think he did because I would probably feel it right about now. Although I was weak, I flip around and sit up to see him still standing at the edge of the bed and rubbing his eyes.

"Why'd you stop?" I ask.

He opens his eyes and looks down at me, a few wet curls of hair in his eyes. "I'm letting you recover, you need it."

His tone was unreadable, matching his face. He didn't seem very eager, he's calm. It kinda worried me. I understand how he's letting me recover but at the same time he looks like he's lost in his thoughts on something else.

"Are you okay? You look distracted." I murmur at his tone.

"Huh? Oh-sorry no," he shakes his head. "Sorry, I'm just really in my head and I don't know how to stop."

"What do you mean in your head?"

He pinches the bridge of his nose and shuts his eyes, stress coming to his surface as he stands naked in front of me.

"I can't stop thinking about my body, and every time I do I get mad at myself because this isn't about my insecurities, this is about us. I tried to be super dominant as a distraction but it wasn't  working. I don't want to think about anything else than you right now but the thoughts keep intruding back in my head which is making it really hard to just enjoy this and not ruin it." He spills with his eyes pinched shut, he's really in his head.

I didn't realize he was putting so much pressure on himself during all of that. I knew he was using control as distraction to his vulnerabilities, but now he was trapped in his head.

"Okay, sit down and just relax for a second." I pull his hands and direct him to sit down next to me on the bed. He listens and rests his elbows on his thighs with his face in his hands,

"I'm already ruining it by stopping to have this stupid self-reflection."

"You are not ruining anything." I shake my head and place my hand on the back of his neck. "You are putting too much pressure on yourself for this to be a perfect experience with no shirt for the first time. It's okay that you're in your head about it. What you're doing is incredibly brave after everything you've been through."

He breathes in silence.

"Just, trying to distract myself isn't working." He rubs his eyes in frustration.

"Would you like to stop?" I ask.

"No, I'll regret it in the long run if I let this have control over me tonight." He answers quickly.

"Would you like to put a shirt on?"

"N-no...maybe..no, I don't know." He says in a flustered state, indecisive.

I breathe and keep my eyes on him, seeing how hard he was being on himself in order to make everything perfect for the night we got married. The second he took off his shirt tonight he made it a goal for him to feel normal and do something so heavy like have sex all night with it off for the first time. He's getting mad at himself for still feeling insecure throughout the experience but not giving himself credit for how far he's already come.

Right now he was sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands, shirt off and not having a panic attack. He's managed to go all this time with no shirt, why isn't he proud?

"Lay down against the headboard," I instruct in a whisper.

He lifts his head up and looks at me on his left, "What?"

"Do you trust me?"

He stares at me in silence before slowly nodding, "yes."

"Then lay down."

He hesitates for a moment but gently grabs the bedding behind him and maneuvers himself up to the centre. He shifts to the pillows and slowly lays himself back so he was flat but with the back of his head against the headboard, shutting his eyes so he wouldn't look down at himself. I switch around on my hands and knees to crawl up to him, lifting my leg up to straddle his waist. I place my palms near his shoulders, leaning down to gently lay a kiss on his closed lips.

"Distractions don't always work. So lets try the opposite." I keep my lips hovered over his, his eyes opening from my words. He stares silently at my eyes, flicking his pupils back and forth between them like he couldn't choose which one to stay on.

For more clarity, I continue. 

"There's no rush. This is all a new experience so give yourself time to adapt and just relax," I whisper before his lips, looking into his shadowed eyes. "No pressure for anything to happen."

He swallows and nods, probably a little anxious because he didn't know what I was gonna do but also didn't want to look down along his naked chest in order to know so. I gently place one more kiss on his lips before gently kissing his chin. After that, I gently kiss his jaw on the left side, then that right. Every kiss was slow and gentle, my eyes shutting when I got to touch his angelic skin. My head dips down into his neck, kissing the ridge of his jugular vein and feeling his pulse beat around it. I kiss the dip in his throat, then the other side of his neck. Once I reach his shoulder, I slide myself down his body a bit to remain on my hands and knees over him. I press my lips to his collarbone, peppering more slow and gentle kisses along with it on both sides.

His chest begins rising up and down harder like he was understanding where my lips were gonna start touching next. I take my time before reaching the area he was so fragile about. I want to be slow with it and give him time to oblige if needed. This was all about what makes him comfortable.

Once I finish along his collarbones, I kiss the indent between them at the centre of his body. I shut my eyes harder with that one, prolonging it to give him a opertunity to protest me going any further if needed. When my lips pull back, I glance at his head against the headboard. His eyes remain wired shut with his reddened lips gently parted. His chest continues to rise and fall from his heavy breaths.

"You tell me to stop if it's too much, okay?" I whisper in clarity.

He nods, keeping his eyes shut.

I gently slide further down his body so my head was just below his collarbones. I pull my eyes from his face and look back down at the first scar branched up his chest. It was about six inches long and laid diagonal on his skin. I lean in and gently part my lips on the pink strike, kissing it slowly with my eyes falling heavily shut. He freezes his breathing as I do so, his hands lacing up to hold my head on both sides like he needed any bit of leverage he could get.

I take my time before detaching my lips and kissing it again just an inch down. He let go of the breath he was holding that time and let a very quiet whimper escape his throat. I'm very positive that he's never had something like this happen before. I make sure to be as slow and gentle as can be, giving him ample time to speak up and stop if need be.

Every time I press my lips down a new spot on the first scar, he lets a whine break the silence. Butterflies dance in my stomach at the situation we were in, knowing he was letting me do this to him. To think how far he's come with letting me see his body and do something like this. I wanted to cherish every part of his skin.

Once I was done kissing along one scar, I move to the next. Every kiss to his chest was having him become more comfortable with voicing the things he was feeling. He squeezed the roots of my hair when my lips press to his abuse, a moan vibrating his chest against my lips. I keep going, prolonging every kiss, breathing heavily through my nose the more I felt him moan at the vulnerable feeling.

Between kisses, I look up to catch a glimpse of his face. His eyes were still wired shut with his lips parted. I kiss his skin again and keep my eyes up on his face this time, wanting to see his reactions. He moans when I part my lips against the skin, tightening his grip and flexing his abdomen out of habit. I look back down at his body and keep pressing my lips along him. I eventually start getting to his stomach, being gentle in any way I could. He moaned the more comfortable he got, audibly expressing his feelings from the lightest touch of my lips on the forbidden skin he hides from the world. He's never had someone touch him here like this, I could do it forever.

In his eyes, these scars are his sins and that mindset may never change, but I want him to know that despite whatever they might mean to him, I'll never stop kissing every single one away. They will never be sins to me, it just apart of who he is.

You deserve to be cherished, Harry. I wish I got to do it sooner.

He squirms a bit under my kiss, flustered by the feeling but moaning in-depth like it was bringing him pleasure. I take my hand and lift it up to the top of his chest while I kiss his stomach, gently gliding my hand down the skin I admired. He takes his hand away from my hair and places it on top of my mine gliding up and down his chest. He stops it in place like he needed to feel the connection, my palm frozen on the centre of his chest with his on top of it.

I keep my hand under his and continue kissing down his last scar that ends towards his abs. He flexes second I made contact with them, stifling a moan. I get to the faded scarring of where he injects his insulin. I kiss that tender skin with my eyes closed, prolonging it all. He whines an exhale and clenches my hair with one hand and the top of my hand with the other. I kiss just above his belly button, feeling the soft skin.

Once I kissed the last square inch of his body, I pull back up and sit straddling his thighs. His eyes tiredly open while his arms fall to the bedding next to him, looking like I just put him into a peaceful doze. The only difference was, he's harder than ever. Those green eyes found mine through the strands of hair in his face, head up against the headboard.

"Are you okay?" I whisper.

He nods tiredly.

My eyes go down to his chest and valley along his scars in the dim room. I exhale under my breath and shake my head.

"You're so perfect, Harry," I say with my eyes on the body I wished he valued as much as I do.

He didn't answer, just keeping his eyes up on me. My hands invitingly run up and down his jagged hips, fingers tracing the prominent v-lines. He really was a work of art, sculpted by angels. My right hand ran down from his hips and to his erection in front of me, gently gripping it at the base and looking back up to his eyes.

"Do you wanna continue?" I whisper.

Staring up at me with heavy eyes, he nods with peace. I draw my hand up and down his shaft, swiping my thumb over his tip at every long stroke. After a few moments of making sure he was ready, I lift myself up over him. I keep my eyes on his while holding the base of his cock, lining it up with my centre. I press his tip to me and slowly coast down so he slides into me again. The second I did it, I realized how sore I was.

My jaw falls open and my eyes pinch shut, sitting down completely. I forgot that we just had really rough sex and my body was going to be a little agile in recovery. My hands gently place on his chest for resistance, my head falling forward so my chin meets my collar.

"Are you in pain?" His voice rasps, speaking his first words for a while.

I shake my head, "I just need to go slow."

"You don't have to do th—"

"No," I halt immediately, "I'm fine, just relax."

I could do this, I just had to be slow and warm up to him again. There wasn't going to be any roughness with this one, but I didn't plan on doing that anyway. I was in control right now, and I plan on being very slow with it so he can relax.

I open my eyes and look at him laying beneath me, eyes solid on mine to make sure I was alright. I nod to him and straighten my back up, taking a breath before rolling my hips forward gently. I rather roll than bounce because that's when I knew it was gonna hurt. Swaying my hips, I gently cast my head back and breathe, my body so sensitive to him.

His hands gently grab my hips, massaging his thumbs into my pelvic muscles to loosen my up. I lean back and place my hands on his soft thighs behind me, riding him slowly. He moans hoarsely into the air, being so submissive to me. I hum at the pressure, feeling him grind inside of me in all the comfortable places. The gentle rocks of my hips made this experience so agile.

"Av—"He moans.

I look back down at him, admiring every aspect of his skin he hides from the world. My eyes fall hypnotized by his anatomy, every curve, every mark, everything. Staring down at it made a moan leave my lips, it turned me on that much.

"God, you're so beautiful." I shake my head with my eyes down on his body, taking my hands and running them up just below his chest.

I met his eyes at the end of my sentence, rolling my hips. When I caught the look in his eyes, it wasn't a look of lust, it was something else. He was staring into my eyes like he was looking at me for the very first time, eyes lost in a gaze of softness. My words must've affected him hard because that glimpse in his eyes was like it's first time he's experiencing something new.

He sat up slowly, keeping his eyes on mine to the point our noses touch. I kept swaying my hips to keep the rhythm. He stares deep into my eyes like he wanted to say something, his lips parting. His eyebrows were slightly lowered like something was on his mind that he wanted to say.

"You mean that?" He rasps under his breath.

I nod immediately, "with all my heart."

He shuts his eyes from my answer, leaning into my lips to kiss them. I shut my eyes and keep rolling my body as his lips puzzle mine, kissing me as gentle as this moment. They mold together like they were meant to be together, his arms wrapping around my back to hold me to him. I breathe into his lips at the emotional and physical pleasure. The kiss was soft and lead by him as I kept our hips gyrating. Breathing him like this sends me into a state of bliss.

"You still kiss me like the first time." I whisper into his lips.

He hums, running his hands up my back.

I remember how nervous he was, kissing me. I remember how much he didn't know what to do, so I lead it. Since then, he knows how to kiss me but moments like this just remind me of that time in his steaming car. Right now he was so timid, kissing me like the first time. This sex felt so different than the other times. For starters, it's the first time we're both completely naked and insight, but there's something else about it that made the energy so different.

He kisses my parted lips as I kept the hip movements, his hands rolling up and down my back. He moans gently, his mouth staying still against mine to breathe. I whimper at the tight feeling, his body gliding gently in and out of mine at the ride of my hips. My hands run up the sides of his wet head, tangling my fingers in his deep roots while he keeps his lips just brushing mine.

"Tell me you'll never leave me." He whispers into my lips.

In that moment, I had a flashback to Chicago, those exact same words leaving your tongue in a moment just like that one. You were always so scared of me leaving you, Harry. The more it scared you, the more it scared me too. Little did you know, I was just as afraid of you leaving me.

"Please Av, just tell me." He reveals his desperate side, the side that was so scared to be alone like the rest of us. "You don't have to mean it—I just need to hea—"

"I'll never leave you." I don't let him finish his sentence this time.

He falls into my neck and tightens his arms around my back, holding me like I was his only form of sanctuary. His large strong body was so submissive when it's clung around me like a scared little boy, my words affected him that much.

I hold the back of his head and hide half my face into his neck. I pinch my eyes shut with the need to cry. This was more emotional than I ever expected it to be, and now he was someone in my life I could never see myself letting go. I wanted to cherish this moment forever, taking in the scent of his hair. It smelled of the shampoo I lathered through it earlier. Little details like that will help me keep a memory like this forever.

"You're perfect, okay?" I sniffle into his neck, rocking my body. "I'm so sorry you didn't have anyone to tell you that sooner."

He moans and holds me tighter, my body swaying faster as he becomes more audible in the pleasure. I stay buried in his neck, holding the back of his head and never wanting to let go. My heart races against him, feeling every breath from his lips. Every time I gave him a compliment involving his body, he moaned. I think it made him relax and allow himself to feel good.

My hands slip down onto his back again, unexpected like before. He sucked in a gasp but didn't stop having me move my body with him. I gently rub my hands up and down his scarred skin while kissing the hook of his jaw. He buries his forehead deeper into my shoulder, going with it.

"You're okay..." I whisper. "I won't hurt you."

He whines into my shoulder and keeps his arms deadlocked around my back, weak. I keep swaying my hips so the friction between our tight bodies was on fire at this point. I could feel his naked body in so many ways, my chest against his, my stomach rubbing against his, my hands roaming his long back. Everything, I was feeling all of him for the first time.

"Av—I'm..." He doesn't get all his panting words out.

I nod into the side of his head, understanding.

He becomes an unravelling mess of submissive moans and cried of pleasure, finally building to that peak he struggled to reach all night. I toss my head back and shut my eyes, sweating more than I was before the shower. I gasp for oxygen in this humid bedroom, tangled in the piles of money surrounding the bed I merely forgot about in this intimate moment. When I open my eyes back up, I was faced with the dim ceiling of his bedroom, purple light leaking from the bathroom itself. My damp hair drapes down my back, over his arms clung around me.

"Fuck—" He lifts his head up from my shoulder and kisses my throat from my head drifted back and facing the ceiling. I look back down to meet his heavy green eyes, long dark lashes framing them perfectly. Coated in sweat, he glistened in the dim lighting. His cheeks were rosy and the area between his eyebrows was creviced.

He crashes his lips to mine and shuts his eyes, lazily kissing me with endless building moans leaving his lips. Our lips part together while his peak builds, I freeze my hands on his back and focus on moving his hips on him. His arms around me slip to my hips, gripping them sharply in need of leverage. He breathes faster, choppier. My energy only matches his, picking up my breathing like his.

He vibrates a thick groan and dives forward so my back meets the layers of money. My hands fall in fists next to my head while my eyes couldn't look up at him fast enough. Suddenly he lifts up his knees over me, pulling out and leaning over to place a hand in the bedding next to my chest. The other hand quickly stokes up and down his erection. His hair hangs down as his jaw falls agap, a graveled groan aching his throat while his tip began twitching a warm release that shoots out along my stomach.

He continues groaning in the climax of it, breathing heavy and clenching the bedding next to me so vessels bulge up his knuckles and forearm. I pant while watching it happen, his hand harshly pumping his shaft to ride out the high. I quickly realize this was the first time he decided to pull out and actually finish on me. Surprisingly, it was a very alluring sight—watching him stroke himself as pure pleasure devoures his face, his wet and sweaty hair hanging in his eyes. My chest rises up and crashes down, sweating profusely as he gets ever last bit of his orgasm out on my stomach.

His hand slows down around him as he comes down from his high and the release all over my stomach. He fell to a mess of bewildering pants and tired eyes, looking like his soul just got sucked from his body in the peak of an orgasm. The room was thick of sex and exhaustion, my ears finally adjusting to the fact we can still hear music through the walls from downstairs.

He lets go of himself and digs both hands in the bedding next to my hips, sitting back on his ankles and dropping his head in recovery. My eyes lead up his inked arms that trail to his curled back, seeing the jagged muscles of his shoulders.

After a few moments of much-needed silence between us, he lifts his head back up and meets my eyes. His colour was washed from life, under eyes dark like he literally was a dead man walking at this point. Maybe his soul did get sucked out of his body with that one. Despite that, a charming smile stretched up his red lips. I breathe a tired smile back, placing both of my palms on my temples, I'm sweating like mad.

"You pulled out," I state with the evidence still on my stomach.

"Y-yeah," He tries to catch his breath, "You're sore, I wanted to make the whole clean up a little easier on you this time."

Ah, romance.

He stretches his body over to the bedside table, opening the drawer and pulling out a box of tissues. I grin as he places them next to my body, pulling one out.

"Tissues in your nightstand?" I chuckle, having a strong idea on what those were for.

"Runny noses." He pants a lie.

"I'm so sure." I shake my head, still out of breath too. This time it was the emotion that drained me, not the physical. I felt like I could sleep for a year now.

"I'm fourteen, I know." He chuckles. "There's lotion in there too."

I laugh as he takes the tissue and balls it in his fingertips to wipe up the mess on me. "Lonely nights in Vegas?"

"I actually haven't jacked off in a very very long time." His eyes stay down on my stomach, cleaning me off.

"How long?" I ask in curiosity, eyes down on my stomach too.

"Like a year."

"Really!" I look back at his face in disbelief.

"It sounds like I'm lying." He looks up at me for a second and smiles.

"It does," I agree.

"I swear I'm not. I was having sex like three times a day." He shrugs.

"Three?" I widen my eyes.

"On good days."

"Different girls?" I furrow.

"You don't wanna know." He shakes his head, finishing cleaning me off.

I take in the fact he was still naked, shirt and everything. We were making small talk while he was shirtless. That seemed like a big deal. He was literally smiling while being naked. I didn't want to draw attention to it, but on the inside I was over the moon. I don't even think he realizes it yet.

I sit up with my palms on the bed behind me, meeting his head level so our faces were only a few inches apart. I glance down at his lips and smile, leaning forward to peck them. I kiss them three times before pulling back and grinning at him. I had this warmth in my chest that was projecting this smile, it wouldn't go away.

"What are you smiling so much for?" He whispers, grinning at the sight of my grin.

My eyes feather around his face, taking it all in like it's the first time. From his eyes to his hair to his nose to his smile—he so angelic to me.

"Thank you," I whisper, meeting his eyes after my tour of his head.

"For what?" He furrows his brows.

"For feeling safe with me." I clear my throat, nodding.

His smile falls a little bit, understanding what I meant and the heaviness with it. I stare into his eyes and get lost in them for a few more seconds, smiling. I lean off my palms behind me and gently run both my hands from his face to the side of his head, tucking short strands of damp hair behind his ears. My fingertips graze his scalp through the wet roots.

I just wanted to admire you sometimes, Harry.

Staring at me as I stare at him, an muffled voice caught me off guard. It came from the wall behind us and it was a sound I recognized in a second. I froze staring at Harry, furrowing my brows. I turn my head back to the wall behind the headboard, hearing the same noise again.

A woman's moan.

I shoot my head back to Harry who heard the same thing, his eyes a little wide in shock. The minute we look at each other again, we burst out in laughter. My head fires back as he dives forward so his forehead digs agains my collarbone, both of us sat on the bed and laughing like twelve-year-olds. The timing of the moan just kinda made it really funny.

"Niall's room shares a wall with us, doesn't it?" I cackle with his forehead in my shoulder laughing.

"I think so—"

"Louis..." the woman's voice moans through the wall again.

Both of our laughter dropped dead silent, my stomach twisting as Harry shot his head back up straight and connected his widened eyes with mine. We both froze, pure shock taking over by thinking the same thing.

"Did we just hear the moan of Louis' name?" I say in awe.

Harry nods with the same expression.

My hand claps against my mouth, trying to stay silent and listen. I hear another female moan through the walls, confirming the fact it was who I think it was.

"Oh my god, it's Nova!" I turn my head to the wall behind me.

"About time he gets some." Harry laughs.

"Do you think they're having sex?" I ask back at Harry.

"Sounds like it." He chuckles.

"Oh god." I laugh but also wanted to cry considering that's Nova I was hearing, my friend that I have now heard what she sounds like while having sex. When the hell did she start sleeping with him? I was happy but also confused and a little traumatized.

I sling my legs off the edge of the bed and stand up, an immediate ache between my legs when I did so. I suck in a sharp breath through my teeth and shut my eyes, forgetting I was gonna be sore for a bit. I nearly fell back on the bed but I found my centre of balance.

"Are you okay?" He notices my solid stand.

"Yeah—" I nod, taking a step forward towards the bathroom. "Just gonna be a little stiff."

"Sorry baby..." He murmurs from behind me, nothing to be sorry for.

"No, I'm okay." I take a gentle step forward to the purple-lit bathroom. "I'll be right back."

I totter through the doorway and shut the door behind me, turning to the mirror to see my after-sex look in the purple lights. My hair was still wet from the shower, but my body was dry at this point. I flick on the normal white light to get a better look. I had the shine to my face from sweat, seems like that shower was pointless for the efforts to get clean. I'm just gonna have to shower again but I was too tired to do it tonight. There was a hundred dollar bill stuck to the back of my thigh, I peeled it off and placed it on the counter.

I turn to the toilet and quickly go pee, knowing it was going to hurt this time like it usually does after rough sex. I understand what he meant when he said he wanted to help me when we mentioned pulling out and cleaning it up for me so I wouldn't have to do it myself in this moment.

After I go pee, I wash my hands and grab a cleansing wipe to clean off the sex sweat on my face, doing what I can to avoid having to shower tonight. I brush my hair through and put on deodorant so I was a little more comfortable with going to bed. My eyes were heavy with exhaustion, completely emotionally and physically drained.

After about ten minutes of cleaning myself up, I head back to the door and open it up. I flick off the light before walking back into the bedroom that had only one lamp on at the bedside, making a warm glow in the room. Harry was no where to be seen in the initial sight.

The first thing I notice is the scent of smoke—cigarette smoke. 

Turning my head to the bed, I was surprised to see all the money sprawled on the floor and brushed off the thick white comforter with only a few stray bills left behind. That wasn't the most noticeable thing though, the fact there's a man-sized lump under the blanket was.

"Baby?" I stare at the massive lump under the covers.

"Yes?" An arm shoots up from the foot of the bed, a lit cigarette between the black and yellow fingernails. He was completely hidden under the blankets at the end of the bed, his arm being the only thing hanging out. A black sweater covered the visible limb, meaning he was dressed under there.

I stare blankly as his arm goes back down, choosing not to tell me why he's completely hidden under the white bedding. It was an odd sight seeing a man-sized lump under the blankets with just one arm sticking out for his cigarette.

"You okay under there?" I turn my head to the table to see a pile of clothes he laid out for me, in instinct I walk over to them.

"Yeah," His voice was a muffle under the thick blankets. "I put clothes for you on the table."

I grab the clean Rolling Stones shirt and throw it over my head, the material blanketing my body. I untuck my hair from the back of the it, grabbing the black boxers and quickly stepping into them. Once they were up and snug on my hips, I run my hand back through my scalp and look back at the king-sized bed to see how he was still hidden under the blankets.

I trail over to the foot of the bed and squat down before the 6ft size lump under the covers. His arm stays dangling out above the floor, the cigarette ashing onto the hardwood slabs. I grab the edge of the thick comforter and pull it up, being welcomed with his head laying on its side with his black hoodie up.

He turns his head to me in front of him, chin digging into the mattress with the black hood hiding his damp hair. A few soggy strands sit on his forehead. I form my lips into a line while holding the covers up to see him.

"Why are you hiding under here?" I murmur, seeing how he was laying on his stomach.

His green eyes stay on mine, bringing the cigarette filter up and wrapping his lips around it. His cheeks hollow in the suck, his skin flushed and pale. I watch him breathe in the smoke and gently blowing it out between us. Once the smoke was dissipated from his lungs, he speaks.

"I was just feeling really exposed after you left the room," he rasps, looking like a child hiding from the monsters under his bed. "I remembered I was shirtless and it made me anxious."

"Are you okay?" I ask.

"Yeah, I just wanted to layer up a bit. It was all fun and games in the sex but after we came down from that high I felt uncomfortable being so bare." He explains very reasonably.

I nod and smile gently, "that's okay baby, as long as you're comfortable. Isn't the bed damp though?" I ask considering we laid our wet bodies on top of it not too long ago.

"No actually, this comforter is very thick and with the layers of money on top, no dampness soaked through into the mattress."

"That's good." I nod, smiling gently.

He lifts the cigarette back up for me to take a drag, knowing he always shared a cigarette with me when he lit one.

I glance down at it between us, my body still squat before the foot of the bed so we were head level. My eyes trace the tobacco stick wrapped with paper, the grey ash flaking from my stare. The gentle smoke trails between us like a candle, making the area smell of the contents inside it.

"I'm okay." I shake my head, flicking my eyes back up to his.

He stares at me in silence for a second, reading my eyes and my decline. Slowly, he puts the cigarette back down and lets a gentle smile curve up his lips, understanding. I smile back, putting the blanket back down so he was hidden as a lump in the bedding again. I stand up to my feet, still being very sore from earlier but it was easily distractible.

I walk around to the head of the bed, getting on my hands and knees while pulling back the thick comforter. Seeing his feet and grey track pants, I creep under the blanket next to him, shuffling my way to the foot of the bed where his head lays. Once I got up next to him, we were both now hidden under the blanket.

"Hi," I murmur, laying on my side to face him, the warm bedside lamp still being on so it helped me see him through the white blankets.

He turns on his side too, facing me. His arm still hangs out the edge of the bed for his cigarette, but besides that, we were completely concealed under the thick bedding. His eyes trace my face, taking his time to tour my features. I reach up and place my hand on the side of his face while he did so, running my thumb back and forth under his eye.

His pupils eventually meet mine, a portion of me always clenching when he made eye contact with me. There was something about him that always made me nervous to be in his stare.

"It's always like the first time with you," I speak my mind and answer my thoughts.

His lips curl a smile a bit, "what'd you mean?"

I breathe and gently shake my head, "I don't know."

My eyes fall shut in exhaustion, the warmth of us snuggled under the blanket making me fall weak with fatigue. It's toasty under here, but a good toasty. I just wanted to curl into him and fall asleep. The music still was blaring downstairs but I was so prone to it now. All I could think about was him; his face, his smile, his heart, all of it.

"Do you think we'll always have this?" I heard his rasp amongst the kaleidoscope of colours behind my eyelids.

My lips curl to a small smile, a gentle exhale leaving my nose.

"Till death do us part, baby."

My mind began to fall dark, drifting quickly into a peaceful sleep.

No perspective.

As Aven drifts off into a night's worth of sleep, Harry finds himself staring at her grace in his own exhaustion. His eyes were heavy with weariness, the cigarette slipping out of his fingertips and landing dormant on the dark oak floors. The warmth that surrounded the two of them under the Vegas blankets sent them both into a comfort. Their body heat feeds off each other, hearts beating in unison.

Her hand never left his face when she drifted off, staying solid on his cheek with her thumb going placid from the stroke under his eye.

Harry gently placed his hand on her hip, nudging himself closer so he could feel her forehead against hers, his leg timidly pushes between her thighs, tangling their bodies together. His hand on her hip slid to the space between her shoulder blades, holding her against him in need to feel. Up close, his eyes stay on hers. He admires every eyelash branching from her closed eyes, dark just like her natural hair colour. She breathed as calm as the midnight Miami waves they once played in, her heart rate the gracious beat of a gentle melody. Harry wanted to shut his eyes, but he couldn't.

He couldn't stop staring at her.

He couldn't stop.

"Av..." His voice scratched under his breath, wondering if she was asleep yet.

She didn't answer, her eyes shut and her body unmoving in his close hold. Her hand stays frozen on his cheek still, the last action she made before drifting off into a rest. Her other hand was folded up against her chest between them. Harry's eyes danced along her face, waiting to see any sign that she was still awake.

"Baby?" He whispers again, his eyes falling heavier with every breath he took.

Aven didn't move, quiet and still. Her damp hair fanning the mattress behind her.

Harry shut his eyes with his forehead against hers, exhaling gently through his nose. Despite how tired he seemed, his mind was rallying something in his heart, something he needed to pay attention to if he wanted to sleep. She was all over his mind, laying before him to freely gaze at for as long as he wants. It felt like something he shouldn't get for free. She was here with him, in the flesh. But when he shuts his eyes, he still sees her. He can't rid her being from his mind. He sees her smiling at him, laughing with him, holding his hand. He sees her in a yellow sundress, he sees her in his green flannel. He smells her perfume, he smells her shampoo. He tastes her lips, he tastes her skin.

But more than ever, he can just feel her. Not just what it's like to touch her skin, but to feel her. It was so hard to put into explanation of what Aven Brooks feels like, it seemed like such a complex thing. Harry was never good with explaining his feelings, he didn't know how to describe something so studious as Aven and how she feels to him. To him, she feels like so many things, things that only his heart could understand.

She feels like first drags of fresh cigarettes but last crunches of cherry suckers.

She feels like final coats of nail polish.

She feels like lines of coke.

She feels like knuckles you crack after a long day.

She feels like Miami rain.

She feels like empty football fields.

She feels like full stadiums.

She feels like absinthe.

She feels like dangling from a helicopter.

She feels like classical music.

She feels like standing on a motorcycle.

She feels like train tracks.

She feels like frozen yogurt.

She feels like destroying a piano.

She feels like rooftops.

She feels like fleeing from cops.

She feels like stitches.

She feels like strobe lights.

She feels like blue carnival bears.

She feels like curbs at 2 am.

She feels like Cupid's Chokehold.

She feels like running through Chicago. 

She feels like 1.2 million dollars.

She feels like floors.

She feels like everything he's ever wanted in life.

Harry opens his eyes again, his thoughts overwhelming him. Staring at her closed eyes and rested state, his mouth goes bone dry to the point he couldn't even swallow. This throat begins to ache as much as his heart she had clutched for dear life, his forehead running hot when against hers like this. He couldn't breathe but more importantly, he couldn't think. His lips part, the sweat aching the back of his neck from the layers mixed with the anxiety in his chest.

Staring at her fast asleep, he whispers,

"I love you more than I planned."

//

wow, my heart.

my question today is, will I ever find the right word for male genitalia in smut? every single one I use just doesn't sit right with me....anyways 🎶WHY IS IT SO HARD TO ACCEPT THE PARTY IS OVER🎶

also maybe don't listen to 'the night we met' while reading the no perspective part, your heart might ache a little...

I want to take a moment to say thank you so much for all the excitement and support you've given duplicity. the attention its been getting lately is absolutely insane. the drawings I see, tiktoks, fan accounts, edits, everything. its incredibly surreal and I cant thank you enough. the fact this book has 26 million reads is mind boggling. wow wow wow. I'm gonna take time to go fix some grammar errors in the beginning chapters hehe.

thank you all for your concern about me and my absence. I'm totally okay. I didn't plan for the update to take this long but there was a lot going on the past few days. thank you for all your support. These chapters are crazy long lately, this one falling just under 20'000.

I've said this enough already but on my twitter is where i give small updates about how the chapter is coming along and stuff.  julez_jpg

lots of love always, you mean so much to me. drink ur water and get some rest, duplicity niall is dreaming abt u.