Quick Note
Ok, from where Chapter 55 started the sex scene, hannah posted this bit as-well, I'm not going to add it onto that chapter so here it is on another!
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I froze as footsteps were heard tottering down the hall outside. My core muscles tightened, the tension being intimately inflicted on Harry and the union between us. I hurriedly released the hand that held his shoulder, clamping it over his mouth to smother the groan fighting to escape. Once the moment had passed, Harry gave me a humoured nod, indicating approval to remove my palm.
“Haz.”
Heat flushed from head to toe. It was one of Harry’s friends voicing his unwanted existence through the door. I had absolutely no desire to be seen by anyone else in such a vulnerable position; naked from the waist down, pressed between the wall and Harry’s equally bare body.
His lips pouted as he quietly hushed me, hoping that the drunken hindrance would find something of a more interesting distraction and leave. But we had no such luck.
“Mate, I know you’re in there. I’m pretty sure Bo’s with you too.”
It was Louis. I prayed the pleasured mewling was quiet enough to prevent from travelling though the wood of the door as Harry hoisted me higher. At that point I was unconcerned that the round edges of my nails were biting into the skin at Harry’s nape. All I felt was him. He held me to him, creating a new heat that was completely foreign to me before I’d met Harry; a warmth of breath and sweat jewelled skin.
Pleasure transformed to panic as the handle began to rattle and my stomach plummeted, longing for the ability to dissolve into the wall; anything to avoid the embarrassment that could potentially ensue. But Harry was quick to put a halt on the situation, grabbing the handle and evading unwelcome company.
“Fuck off, Louis! We’ll be out in a minute,” he sharply stated.
“A minute?” Louis chortled. “Give her more than a minute, mate!”
The tone of his voice implied that he was smartly grinning, the circumstance highly amusing and a topic most likely to be shared once he’d made it back down to the party.
My head was encouraged with care to rest forward on Harry’s shoulder, shying away from the impact of fist to wall in warning.
“Fuck you!” He shouted.
“I’ll see you when you’ve both finished.”
We listened as Louis stumbled away into the distance of blurred music. Harry’s hands had come to settle underneath my thighs once more, squeezing as he lazily smiled. Our noses bumped as I zeroed in for a kiss, Harry apparently having the same idea. The consequential titter had him grinning, full watt and playful. And it was just us.
“Your friends have the worst timing.”
“And how’s my timing?” Harry asked, withdrawing before gifting me with a driven thrust.
“Commendable,” I choked.
I was given little warning as Harry’s hips magnetised to mine once more. Tight, strong, and unbelievably sexy; his conviction held with athletic precision. My fingers seized the material covering his back, drawing it into my desperate clasp in some urgent need to stable myself in reality.
Part of me wanted to rip the remaining clothes from his body, have him completely bare whilst he knocked me into the wall. But the prevalent fragment of my lingering composure had me clawing to the present. I’d never had a circumstance of similar occurrence before; so utterly impatient to have each other that the removal of clothing was kept to the essential; only stripping out of what was necessary.
Harry’s lips were busy seeking out the thumping pulse in my neck; the beat proving a worthy competitor against the bass of music being emitted from below us. I was laden with kisses, some involving sharp discomfort from nibbling bites. Harry had sparked my senses. He possessed an apt ability to judge the situation, his hands displaying appropriate gentleness when removing strands of hair from my face before securing my thighs to rock heavily into me.
“I not gunna last long,” he panted into my neck.
It was heavenly, I didn’t want it to end but to have him close was unreservedly one of the best sights I had ever witnessed. He was all lip bitten, flushed cheeks and obscene language. The forest green of Harry’s eyes had descended to a depth that I wasn’t sure I could rescue him from. Not yet.
“Pull out,” I demanded.
My hands pressed to his shoulders, urging him to comply. His hips had stilled, enduring the tight heat with breathless relent.
“I’ve got a condom on, it’s fine,” he muttered.
“Harry.”
Nothing more needed to be said, his expression one of worry as he aided in my untangling from him. I remained in the small space between Harry and cool wall even after my feet had touched the ground.
“Did I hurt you?”
His voice was coarse and low, perturbed at the thought of causing harm.
“No,” I paused. “I just – I wanted it to….”
I had imagined it to be more alluring in my head, demanding dominance of the situation, just as Harry had openly admitted was his desire a short time before. It was going to be more difficult than previously thought; and judging by the disgruntled look on his face, Harry wasn’t all that pleased we’d put the brakes on our romp. Bite the bullet.
“Touch yourself.”
“What?”
I observed the clarity wash over his features, a smug expression taking the place of initial confusion.
“I want to see you touch yourself.”
My instruction was given in a much firmer tone, confident in the actions I sought after and how Harry was going to perform them. It was brazen of me, but the risk of him disobeying was almost non-existent considering the flash of excitement his eyes were shot with. He wanted this.
I had always been curious as to how he indulged himself. I yearned to study him without the distraction of him touching me; wanted to see how he teased himself, whether he delayed the inevitable messy ending for as long as he could withstand or if it was hot and fast. Apparently I was going to find out.
The span of his palm was pressed flat to the wall above me; his body virtually sheltering mine. His right hand descended but my eyes lingered on his, estimating the exact moment the awaited caress had taken place. It was revealed by a small gasp of inhaled air, parted lips and lowered lashes. Harry was unexpectedly patient with his stroke, relishing the undivided attention I laid upon him. He liked being watched.
I wasn’t sure if the occasional touches to my stomach were deliberate as he continued to fist the length. But the playfulness was apparent assuming the kink in his lips was of provocative tease. My hand took up residence upon his shoulder, hooking to have my fingers around his nape.
Harry’s hat was still on, a remarkable accomplishment bearing in mind the intensity of the situation. Beads of sweat were making running paths down his neck, a testament to just how hard he was working not to cry out. The twinges in my stomach had me longing for him to do away with pleasing himself and have him please me instead. But I resisted, a silly inquisitive part of my mind wishing to discover just how long it would take before I was begging him.
“What do you think about?”
His smile was one of hazy mischief. Our bodies had grown closer, both just as eager to feel our lover’s heat.
“You,” Harry strained.
“Me?” I asked in disbelief.
For the first time, my vision skirted down his body to watch his performance. Practiced fingers tended to the erection still protected by contraception. The easy glide made my cheeks flush, fully aware of just how ready my body had been for him before we’d lost our clothes.
“I think about how you like it slow,” he admitted roughly.
The grip Harry held tightened as he pumped nearer the base, closing his fist smaller before freeing himself to execute the movement again. He was wrecked and it was taking all my will power to curtail the yearning to pounce.
“How tight you are,” Harry choked. “Your body, your lips.”
He was against my hip, torturing me with grazes of knuckles and unashamed whimpers. Harry couldn’t seem to draw in a full breath, the air consumed in small sharp gulps as he squeezed the sensitive tip.
“Your kisses.”
I placed my hand on his hip, the skin was smooth and warm beneath my palm, his lips much the same as we shared a kiss.
“Your tiny hands,” his laugh strained.
I tightened my grip on his waist to prove to him just how credible my “tiny hands” could be. I hadn’t expected Harry to respond in such a despairing way.
“Please,” He begged.
His head had lowered; the once boyish bravado had dissipated into shameless pleading. I wouldn’t touch him, not in the way he craved. As my hand retracted from his side, the deliberate brush was noted, beseeching me to take hold of him, to coax him to his end. But I refused. He was going to do as I said.
“No, be a good boy.”
The vibrant language expelled from Harry’s mouth in reply was muffled into my shoulder, his left arm still striving to keep his body from crushing mine against the wall. Although he was partially leant upon me, but not overwhelming so. It was a need to feel another, and I couldn’t explain how hot it was to have Harry completely comfortable with being so openly vulnerable. He trusted me.
“Have you ever touched yourself thinking of me?” Harry boldly asked.
His tone sent shivers of goose bumps along my uncovered skin. We were well past the point of polite etiquette concerning anything considered remotely naughty. His eyes sought out my retort, but I feared my answer may have brought end to something I was immensely enjoying. A languid smile crossed his pleasured features as he assessed my nod.
“You came?”
The speed of caress slowed, dangling on the edge of a question in which I knew the answer he hungered for; to know that I cried out his name whilst alone in my bed. I wasn’t ashamed.
The hand still clasping the back of his neck drew Harry to me, my lips at his ear.
“Twice.” I hushed.
“Fuck.”
His wrist flicked doubly fast, pressing his forehead to mine and releasing soft sounds. The thick vein in his neck became prominent, straining not to call out and alert the other partygoers of our current situation. That was all it took. He fell apart whilst I held him, told him how good he’d been for me.
Once spent, Harry was on his knees, prying my legs apart and pinning my hips to the wall. Suctions of kisses were imprinted up my thighs before he succumbed to submission and had me rocking into his mouth in climax.