strong sexual content
A couple of single rain drops trail down the windows of his loft. The sound of rain echoes only slightly, drifting around, and while he packs his bags, I find myself watching the rain. The sun was setting, the sky a bold blue with a tinge of orange, and it was cloudy but the sun still peeked through the clouds. I'm lazy as I lie back down, ignoring the sky and the white noise all together.
I stare at the high ceiling above me, hearing the quick sound of the zipper on his luggage. I hear him sigh to himself, lifting the bag to stand up right and while he does that, I aimlessly trace the decrepit lines and patterns on the ceiling.
"You're quieter than usual," I comment softly, feeling the bed dip beside me and he takes the spot there. He lies on his back and joins my aimless guard.
He doesn't respond for a bit, and the noise of the rain pattering across the tall glass windows and a car's wheels whooshing by on the streets raises in volume again. "I wanted you to come with me. I think I'd be excited," he tells me, and I can feel him turn his head and look at me. The watchful look, like he doesn't want to miss a thing.
I don't look back at him. My eyes roll and my lips form into a goofy grin. "More excited than winning the championship game?" I ask him, scoffing, "Please."
"I'm only doing this because...actually, I don't know. I lost the motivation to play for a while now," he mutters, and I turn my head to look at him this time, seeing that his green eyes are already on me like I expected. "I'm more of an art guy, anyways. It's weird trying to be both."
"But you're an amazing athlete. And I'm sure you're an amazing artist, even if you don't want me to see it, yet." My voice teases him only slightly.
Harry shakes his head. "You will, trust me. And you can't tell me I'm a great artist, yet. What if I drew stick figures?"
"The best stick figures I'll ever see," I tease, moving closer to his body where I can drape my leg over his waist and my hand presses against his dark green tee, the denim of his jeans rubbing against my bare thigh. The smell of his cologne evident. His hand falls at the very bottom of my back, fingertips pushing away the soft cotton fabric of my own t-shirt. I sigh softly, resting my arms on either side of his neck, forearms touching his collarbones. "Can't believe you're leaving me," I whisper against his neck, my lips brushing his warm skin.
My eyes flutter shut, but not for long as he rolls me onto my back, a deep groan rumbling in his chest. His face lines with mine just above me, the tip of his nose touching mine. Bright eyes glued to my lips and then flickering to mine. "Only for a bit. I promise you, I won't enjoy any of it," he lowly mutters as my legs wrap around his waist, arms still around his neck from our previous position. He leans on one of his elbows to keep himself up only slightly. His hair falls against his cheeks.
"I guess this is the part I wish you good luck," I smile, and it's then when he leans down and presses a full, deep kiss on my lips. I return the need behind the kiss, my fingers finding their place in his hair, tugging lightly. He doesn't bother pulling away from me when he turns his head, angling to kiss me harder. His free hand dips beneath my t-shirt, gliding up my stomach. His teeth gently bite into my bottom lip, rendering a soft groan to settle in this throat. I feel his hand slip underneath my bra, clasping his hand against my breast. The desperate need is there and it lengthens as my shirt is pulled away from me, separating our reddened lips for a few seconds.
It's tossed onto the floor and every article of clothing follows until I'm breathing a little harder, and so is he. His eyes trail down my body, fingers tugged into the elastic band of my baby pink underwear. He dips down again to trail warm, open-mouthed kisses down my neck as he pushes the thin fabric down my legs. Cheeks pink and mouths red from the harsh kisses.
He leans down and supports his weight with his elbows beside my head, and he kisses feverishly down my body. His plump lips let out small breaths against my skin, ghosting his lips over my breasts and inducing my goosebumps. I shut my eyes, hands smoothing out his curls as his lips wrap around my left nipple. My teeth bite into my bottom lip harshly, hearing the suction of his lips and the filthy popping noise they make as he pulls away. He does the same to the other one just as the bottom of my foot desperately runs up and down the wrinkled sheets in frustration.
He purposely runs his hands over my breasts again, thumbs circling the sensitive skin and eyes focused on them. He looks up at at my face, just as I open my eyes, and he talks to me with his mouth right above mine. "Gonna fuck you so good, baby," he murmurs deeply. My eyes are glued to his . My lips part while I become flustered and my cheeks heat up, not minding the dominance he seems to have and enjoy having over me. "Until you beg and beg me to make you come." A soft moan pushes past my lips at his promises, seeing the Harry he warned me about.
Harry then leans away from me, pulling my legs up and holding my knees up, telling me, "Keep your knees up like that for me." I do so, and I'm surprised when pulls me forward on the bed until I lay on the edge of the bed. Harry stands, eyeing me as he slips into into me, rendering me speechless, and gliding almost through my soaked, warm and tight core. He sighs to himself, panting breath mixing with the sound of rain and my own labored breathing. He grabs my thighs tightly, wrapping his arms underneath my knees and angling me as he begins to thrust his hips forward. He pushes so deep...so deep and my mouth falls open, a silent cry never leaving my throat.
His rhythm is paced quicker and harder, the filthy noises our bodies make when connected. The quiet whimpers that escaped my mouth as he continues to go so deep into me. His chest is flushed a light pink, glistening skin and slacked jaw. He looks sinful, dark look in his eyes aimed at my tense body. I find myself enjoying every second. Harry looks at my chest, and breasts and how they bounce with his thrusts. I fist the sheets beside me, raising my hips a little higher.
"That's it, baby," he can't help himself but talk to me, giving him a sense of control, panting it out between harsh breaths and hard thrusts. "Fuck," he breathes. He looks down where he's pushing in and out of me, cheeks flushed and chest glistening with sweat. His golden cross necklace sticks motionless to his sweaty skin, as his hair moves swiftly against his cheeks. I look at him, loving the way he looks like this.
My hitched breaths keep pace with his rolling, grinding hips. I place my hands over my bouncing breasts, squeezing tightly and panting to myself, a whimpering mess. He flickers his bright eyes right to mine, and I grip the sheets tighter. I release a loud moan before feverishly digging my nails nails into my raised knees, shutting my eyes unable to look him.
Harry stops suddenly, pulling out and leaning over me and moving me up the bed. He unwraps his arms from my knees. He instructs me to keep them up myself. When he slips back in, in the missionary position, he sinks in deep and pulls me back into a blissful state."Dios mio," I let out in a soft moan, looking at his focused face, furrowed eyebrows and sweaty brow, hair matted against his cheeks. His hips teasingly rolling into mine. I grab handfuls of his hair, kissing up and down his jaw unable to keep myself from coming all over him. He feels the squeeze and the shudder, my thighs shaking lightly. He looks down at me, breath fanning against my lips. "Mmm," he groans beneath his breath, lips closed.
I feel instantly drained, grabbing his hair and tugging, whimpering into his mouth and lightly biting into his bottom lip. "H-harryy...," I drag out in a breath. My nails dig into his back, lips sucking on his as he can't take it anymore. His hands squeeze the sheets in two balled fists, and I sputter out a helpless moan before he pulls out of me. He sits on his knees, gripping himself as warm spurts land over my stomach. Panting, I lay on my back motionlessly as he lies next to me, muttering a breathless "fuck" under his breath.
His phone rings as we're cleaned up, still refusing to get dressed. I'm lying on him, his arms around my waist, chest pressed against his. I laugh softly at his intrusive lips, never leaving my freckled cheeks and marked neck from his previous assault. We're at peace, except for his ringing phone. He seems to be ignoring it, a habit of his when he's with me, and he continues to leave marks on my skin.
I smack his chest. "Get your phone," I scold, moving away from him. My hair falls to one side of my face, which he grabs a handful and ignoring me, presses a hard kiss on my lips. "Mmm, no, no," I leave him again, glowering at him now. "It might be important."
He sighs and leans away from me, reaching over to his phone on an end table. I lean on my elbow, fist squished against my cheek as my hair falls onto his chest. He presses the phone to his ear, murmuring a husky, tired, "Hello?"
Because of my distance, I can hear the other end. It sounds just like Katherine, his aunt. "Hi, honey! I know you're probably sleeping already because of your early flight, but you forgot your pills, and there's no way you're leaving without them."
My eyebrows furrow instantly after she stops talking, and Harry only glances at me, already knowing the mood setting that just arrived. "Okay. I'll just come tomorrow morning and get them..Okay, love you, too. Bye." There's a silence for a while and he places his phone back on the end table, before setting down on his pillow again. He looks down at me. "What, Tara?" His voice is blunt, like he expects my reaction.
"You take pills?" I question calmly, ignoring the amount of anger that is bubbling inside of me because of the reason that he just so happens to never mention anything. "For what?"
"They help me relax. I'm able to control my anger much more easily," he explains briefly. "I've had them for a while."
I nod slowly. "So you just...didn't bother to mention them to me?"
He sighs heavily, irritation clear, but so is mine. I sit up, gripping the sheets to cover myself. "Tara," he calls exhaustively as I get up from the bed, pulling the sheet away with me, wrapping the warm fabric around my body. It's always cold in here. "Tara," he calls again, louder this time. I approach the bathroom door, shutting it before he can even get up from the bed. "Jesus Christ, Tara, it just never came up?!"
I wait a couple of seconds, leaning against the door and calming myself. Inhale, exhale. I do it a couple of times until I know the crazy in me has left, and I grab the doorknob, turning the door open to find Harry standing there, boxers on. I look up at him, stolid face showing nothing.
"Okay," I tell him. "Anything else?"
He watches me. "Tara...I'm sorry, okay? I should've told you. It just never came up. We don't have to fight over this. It's stupid."
"It's not stupid," I argue, narrowing my eyes at him. "I wanna know that you're okay...if you're okay. I wanna know all these things. It's not that hard to tell me. It never came up, sure, but so? You should tell me these things."
Harry raises his hand, rubbing the side of his jaw and sighing loudly. "You're right, baby. I've taken them regularly for a while. I still do, I just left them at Katherine's. And it's not like I'm unhealthy, it's just that it was hard for me to control my emotions for a while."
I nod my head, processing his words. I take a few steps closer to him, murmuring, "Okay."
"Are you scared?"
I roll my eyes. "Yes, dipwad. I'm terrified of you. I'm only parading naked around you because I'm cute and I need protection!"
His lips curve into an unwanted, amused grin. "Fuck, okay. Stop being mean. It was just a question."
"I'm not scared, baby. Why would I be? If anything, you should be scared of me."
"Oh, great."
"Now," I sigh, gripping the sheets around my body and slipping them off. They drop to the floor just in front of the bathroom door. Harry's eyes fall right where I want them to, and I walk just a few more steps to wrap my arms around his neck, tipping my chin up to watch his distracted face. "I think I need you one more time before you leave me."
He groans, causing me to laugh the second I feel my feet leave the floor. He carries me towards the bed, setting me down and taking it from there.
. . .
I'm all cranky the next morning after saying goodbye to Harry. He looked so good in his hoodie and sweats, sunglasses on because he's too tired to see light. He's leaving me for a week and I don't know what I'm supposed to do with myself now. When I got home, my mom's eating cereal because she doesn't want to cook. Her hairs a mess and she looks like she drank too much the night before, which is no surprise. She's always out with the family.
I sit next to her on the couch as she reads through our mail, the television playing the local news faintly in the background. Even with my yellow, fluffy socks, my feet are still cold and I manage to warm myself up. Pouting, I look down at the mail, telling my mom, "Harry left this morning."
"I know," she mutters with an eye roll, "You said that three times already." She's skimming over a letter, ignoring my pathetically sad face. "If I was him, I'd want to get away from your clingy ass, too."
Laughing, "Ma!"
"Tara, callate!" Shut up.
"Ma...," I groan, kicking my feet up and lying my legs across her lap. She sends me a quick glare but she doesn't push me away. "I miss him already. He looked so cute and cuddly. 'Cause he was tired so his eyes were all sleepy and he wouldn't let go of me. Ugh..."
"How cute," she mumbles to me lowly, still reading the same letter.
I know she's not listening to me at all, so I let her read her letter before she hits me. I look towards the TV uninterested in the depressing news at the moment, and then I look down at the pile of mail beside us. My eyebrows furrow at the address name.
"Ma...who's Kennedy Jammar Preston?" I furrow my eyebrows, picking the letter up from the pile.
"I think that's the guy that just moved into the first floor," she sighs, looking over at the envelope in my hand. "We're already getting their mail."
Confused, I question, "Someone moved in downstairs? When was this?"
"Just two days ago, Tara. But you, tonta," stupid, "Have been spending way too much time with your boyfriend."
Scoffing, I argue, "...No I haven't..."
"On a more serious note, we have a wedding to go to this Saturday so I'm going to need you to go dress shopping soon," she announces, grabbing another envelope to rip open.
Grimacing, I huff, "I don't want to go to a wedding. Can't we just not go?"
"I already said we're going. They made the reservations. Backing out last minute is a pain in the ass. I wouldn't want it done to me," she sighs.
"Fine, fine. Dress shopping it is!"
any predictions?
love ya'll!!!!