*Smut warning*
Enjoy ;)
___
The suddenly electric atmosphere in the kitchen rippled across Paisley's skin.
"Paisley," Harry whispered against her neck as he wrapped his arms around her.
She couldn't hold back the whimper that spilled from her open lips. His embrace felt so good, especially when he slid one arm up until it tucked under her breasts and the other down until his hand gripped one of her hips. She loved the way he used the leverage he gained from his firm hold to control the movement of their bodies.
The feel of him hard and needful behind her drove her insane with want. Her body readied itself immediately. She rubbed her thighs together as wetness settled against her panties.
With one hand, Harry cupped her jaw and drew her head to the right. Then he claimed her mouth, sucking on her lips and exploring her with his tongue. She let him lead, loving how commanding he was. He wasn't rough at all, but he took what he wanted. And she was willing to give him everything.
Paisley reached a hand back and grabbed his hip, her fingers extending further around to rest on the clenching muscle of his rear. Then, just to make sure her intentions were clear, she grasped his ass and pulled him against her. She swallowed his groan as their kisses grew more urgent, more desperate.
When he bent his knees and rolled his hips into her ass, she cried out—a sound he elongated by kneading her breast and rubbing her nipple over and over with the pad of his thumb.
Minutes passed as they writhed against each other within the firm embrace of Harry's strong arms. His warm wet kisses were languorous and dizzying. His quick breaths and throaty groans sounded out a language her body understood, responded to, and needed to hear again and again.
Her hands shook with the need to touch him. Finally, she reached her free hand up and wrapped it around the back of his head so she could stroke him encouragingly. He read her movements correctly. His kisses came faster, harder.
When his lips moved to her jaw, then her ear, then her throat, her chest heaved and her body ached with want. "Please," Paisley finally begged.
She tried to turn in his arms but he gripped her tighter, for just a moment. Then he relented, releasing his hold long enough for her to move. She moaned in relief when she could wrap her arms fully around his neck and hold him to her. He kept her trapped against the counter, but she reveled in the tight press because it allowed her to torment his obvious arousal with her thrusting hips and writhing abdomen.
His hands blazed a teasing trail from her breasts to the sides of her stomach to her hips, and back again. She squirmed under his touch and needed more of it. Needed it on her skin.
She withdrew her arms and found the hem of her shirt. He pulled his body off hers just enough to allow them to work together to remove it. She dropped it to the floor, relieved to feel his big hands exploring her skin with such enthusiasm.
Harry's eyes raked over what she'd revealed to him. Paisley blushed at the intensity of his observation. "Aw, darling, you're so very pretty."
Paisley's heart exploded at the affirmation his words provided. Whatever insecurity about her ordinariness she might've still harbored in the back of her mind disappeared completely at his exclamation.
He dropped his head to her chest and licked and nibbled and kissed all along the lacy edge of her bra. As he flicked at her covered nipple with his rigid tongue, his arms reached around behind her. Her bra fell loose into their arms and soon it joined her shirt somewhere on the floor.
Paisley's moan was loud and needy when he cupped her breasts and alternated sucking on one, then the other. Her hands flew to his head. Her fingers curled in his hair, pulling hard enough Harry winced. She held him to her as she arched her back to offer him better access. His mouth was driving her insane. She'd never had someone lavish such attention to her breasts, and she'd certainly never felt so weak and wanton from it. She snaked one hand down his back and fisted his black shirt between his shoulder blades. "Off," she demanded as she tugged at it.
He reached down, his lips still greedily devouring a nipple, and wrenched his shirt off, only dropping his mouth from her when he absolutely had to.
"Oh God," she murmured appreciatively as her eyes surveyed his broad chest.
There was so much more to him than she'd seen in the elevator. The variety of miscellaneous tattoos that curled around his left arm, accompanied those that splayed across his broad shoulders and chest, his rib cage, the v-shape of his hips. She was left wanting to know where else ink swirled on his beautiful body. His browned skin revealed the amount of time he must've spent without a shirt under the summer sun, and made the tattoos stand out even more.
Her original impression was so right—he was so handsome. She wanted to explore every inch of him, to trace every ridged muscle and every tattoo with her fingers and tongue.
Paisley's mouth went right to the half of a heart etched just beneath the swallow on his left pectoral muscle. Her hands clutched the firm muscles of his sides. Harry threaded his fingers into her hair and held her to him. Her tongue ran around the rigid edge of the broken heart before trailing down and finding his nipple, which was right at the natural height of her mouth.
"So good," he rasped. He pressed a kiss onto her hair.
She flicked her thumb back and forth over the skin she'd made wet, so she could pay attention to his other nipple as well. He groaned at her teasing touch. She smiled at getting him back for how deliciously he'd tormented her earlier.
His skin felt so good under her fingers, and tasted better—just a little salty from how hot they'd been in the elevator. She imagined them in the shower together, using her own bare, soapy hands to wash the day off him. A smile formed where her lips were still pressed against his chest. Another time, she mused. Please let there be another time.
All this slow exploration made her ache. The cleft between her legs was wet and throbbing. Her body begged for the relief of his touch. And she hoped and prayed his body was making the very same pleas.
She sucked his right nipple into her mouth and flicked her tongue against it until he fisted his hand in her hair. She couldn't tell if he was holding her in place or trying to pull her away. Maybe both. But she could tell, either way, he liked it, because he grunted and rocked his hips into her.
Experimentally, she dropped her fingers from teasing his nipples and drew lazy circles over his abdomen, enjoying the way his muscles flinched and clenched under her light touch. His breaths quickened when her fingers swirled in the line of brown hair disappearing under his waistband. Without pausing, she continued down over his pants and cupped his considerable length in the palm of her hand.
"Christ," he groaned, then thrust against where she was rubbing him.
His fingers returned to her nipples. She whimpered and tilted her head back to look up at him. His eyes blazed. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers, then pushed his tongue into her mouth.
She went from rubbing him to squeezing him through his jeans.
"Paisley," he rasped, his voice soft and seductive, "I want you so much." He pulled back until they could see one another, then reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear. "What do you want?"
Reluctantly, she pulled her hand away from stroking him and brought both hands up to cup his face. "Everything. I want everything with you."
Blood pounded through Harry's body. His senses were on fire—her incredible scent, the sounds of her needy whimpers and moans, the satiny-soft feel of her skin under his fingers, the salty-sweet taste of her nipples. As he kissed and touched her, he watched her intently, eager to learn what she liked, finding pleasure in what gave her pleasure.
But when she started exploring him, he thought he'd lose his mind. She'd tugged in silent demand for him to remove his shirt, which he'd done more than willingly, then she started devouring the skin of his chest after drinking him in through her eyes. Every movement of her mouth and hands was playful and sensual and set his body to throbbing, to begging for more.
And she'd given it to him. The press of her small, strong hand around his erection was irresistible. He hadn't held back from using the incredible friction he'd so badly needed and she'd so willingly provided.
And then she confirmed she wanted him too, just the way he wanted her. Her words resonated everywhere—a long-sought satisfaction calmed his mind and a comforting heat filled his chest. Those feelings were magnificent, life-giving—and more than he ever expected to experience.
In that moment, though, it was his cock that most reacted to her words, to the fulfillment they promised. And, as if her words weren't enough, she dropped her hands from lovingly holding his face and hooked the fingers of her right hand into his waistband, then turned and led them from the kitchen.
Harry smiled at her methods and followed her eagerly as she guided him past the small, round dining table, through the living room, and into her most private sanctuary. The room was square and dim, the distant kitchen light and the filtered light of the moon through the sheer curtains providing the only illumination.
She turned to face him, but didn't drop her fingers. Instead, she added her other hand and easily worked the line of buttons open. Looking him in the eye, she shoved at the heavy, tight fabric where it hugged his hip and at the same time snaked her other hand inside his snug boxers until she gripped him skin-to-skin.
Harry's mouth fell open at the thrilling sensation of her soft fingers stroking his hard length. He held her gaze, pleaded with his eyes for her to continue on.
"Fuck. What are you doing to me?" She couldn't know it, but his question was about so much more than the wonderful movements of her little hand.
When she tugged at his pants with her free hand, Harry quickly pushed them and his boxers down over his hips. He followed her gaze as she admired him. Her hand looked so good stroking him. He had to close his eyes against the erotic image so he could conjure up more control—he wanted this to go on for a long time. And she was already pushing him.
She let out a moan that dragged his eyes open again. He wasn't the only one squirming at the picture of her hand around his cock. Paisley's mouth hung open. A flush expanded out across her heaving bare chest. Every few seconds, her tongue darted out across her bottom lip.
Out of nowhere, she gripped his length more firmly and wrapped a hand around his waist, then walked them backward until her legs hit the bed. She sat down and pulled him another step closer until his groin was even with her face.
Harry gaped. Desire had never looked more beautiful than when she tilted her eyes up to him and sucked his head between her pink lips. He gasped as the wet heat wrapped around him.
"Christ, Paisley..."
He clenched and unclenched his hands and was surprised when one of her hands found one of his. She pulled his palm to her head. Drawing back from him for just a moment, she said, "Show me what you like."
Her offer astounded him and he grew in her mouth. Need led him to twist his fingers into her hair. But there wasn't anything she was doing he didn't love the hell out of. "Trust me, baby, you know what you're doing. I can't believe..."
She moaned around his length. He shivered at the sensation. The suction of her mouth and the teasing flicks of her tongue melted his insides. He gave in to the urge and applied the lightest pressure against the back of her head with his fist. He resisted thrusting into her mouth though, not because his body wasn't screaming for him to do so, but because he wanted to let her lead this, and he didn't want to finish this way. And he was walking a very fine line.
Too fine, in fact.
If he didn't make her stop now, he wouldn't be able to resist the pleasure she was drawing out of him. He tugged at her hair, gently urging her to let go.
She released him and looked up with wet, shiny lips and a self-satisfied smile. He smirked, then leaned down and kissed her. Still attacking her mouth, Harry dropped to his knees, and his hands fell to her thighs. After a moment, he walked his fingers up to her waistband.
"Lift," he ordered.
After he had peeled the last of her clothing from her, he sat back on his heels and drank in the beauty of her femininity. Very deliberately, he raked his gaze over her, over the plump rounded swells of her rising and falling breasts, over the soft curve of her porcelain stomach, down to the small patch of damp dark curls at the top of her sex.
Paisley's heart slammed against her chest. Each progression of their actions stretched her nerves more taut and further readied her between her thighs. Once she'd had him in her room and in her hand, she knew she had to taste him.
She reveled in the warm heavy weight of him in her mouth, in the way his jaw dropped in pleasure, and in the deep groan that filled the room the first time she'd taken him all the way in to the back of her throat. The blaze in his eyes was so intense when she looked up at him it drove her harder. She wanted to bring him the pleasure he'd been bringing her all night. And, when she'd noticed a jagged four-inch scar just above his right hip, covered so well by yet another tattoo, she redoubled her efforts, sucking him in deeper and running her tongue over him more vigorously.
This man had been through hell and back at a very young age. Yet, he'd survived without succumbing to the bitterness and resentment and despair that must've sometimes lured him. Instead, he was the kind of man who helped other people—for a living and as a matter of course. And he was relentlessly kind and quietly funny and more goddamned sexy than any man had a right to be.
So she wanted to do this for him. She wanted to concentrate all her efforts on bringing him pleasure. Again and again she hollowed out her cheeks and sucked hard as she brought her mouth up his entire length. Just as she reached his head, she'd abruptly stop sucking and plunge her mouth down around him again, taking him into the back of her throat. His ragged breathing and muttered curses were thrilling.
She almost whined when his gentle tugging pleaded with her to release him. But she was so eager to see where they'd go next she didn't think on it long.
Soon, she was watching Harry rake his eyes across her naked body. They were barely touching, but the moment felt so erotic. It was more than just sexual, though—Paisley was almost certain that within the mask of desire he wore was another emotion—adoration. And it made her feel so safe and secure to be with him this way.
God, he looked so freaking sexy kneeling between her legs. Harry Styles was a big man, in every sense of the term. To see him before her like that...
And then he crawled closer. She had the distinct impression of a predator stalking his prey.
"Lie back," he encouraged as his hands walked up to her hips and his body settled between her thighs. She complied and reclined onto her elbows so she could watch him.
Then, with no pretense at all, his head dropped to the cleft of her legs. He laved a long hard stroke of his tongue through her wet folds, boring his eyes into hers all the while.
"Oh, Harry!" She felt his tongue all the way down to her curling toes.
"You taste so good...just like I knew you would," he murmured right against her. He lowered his face to her and kissed her softly, then he further separated her thighs with his shoulders and licked her most sensitive skin over and over again.
Paisley's hands fisted against the soft green comforter under her. Weakened by the pleasure he so expertly provided, she dropped all her weight back against the bed and luxuriated in the play of his tongue against her. She uttered a near-constant string of encouragements and pleadings, but couldn't find it in herself to be the least bit self-conscious.
She'd had guys go down on her before, but no man had ever seemed as responsive to her body's cues as Harry. The way he paid attention to her soon had him treating her to an alternating rhythm of long hard strokes from her opening to her clit and intense bursts of flicks and sucks concentrated on the latter.
He was playing her body, commanding her pleasure, eliciting the same notes from her again and again. When he added his thumb to his efforts, stroking repeatedly over her clit while his tongue circled and dipped into her opening, every nerve ending concentrated itself at the center of her body.
"Harry, oh my God. Oh my God." Pure white-hot energy was flowing through her, rising in her, threatening to break her apart.
He responded to her words by rubbing her harder, faster, drinking from her more deeply.
"I'm...oh, I'm...."
She lost her words to a loud moan as a glorious explosion of sensation began under Harry's talented mouth and ricocheted through every cell in her body. Muscles flexed and contracted throughout her in a wave. She groaned as he refused to let up one bit, continuing to stimulate her over-sensitive skin in a way that extended her orgasm endlessly.
"Holy shit," she squeaked out between shuddering breaths.
When Harry pressed a line of kisses from her right thigh over her right hip, she felt the smile curling his lips. Then he playfully bit her hipbone. She screamed out a throaty laugh.
She liked someone who didn't have to be serious during sex, who could smile and laugh. It was just one more thing they had in common.
But she wasn't done with him yet.
Saving them the awkward conversation, Paisley flopped her left arm out onto the bed and pointed at the nightstand, "Condoms. Now."
"Mmm. Yes, ma'am." He pushed himself into a standing position and kicked off his pants which still hung around his knees.
Paisley licked her lips as he strode the three steps around her bed and reached into the drawer. His body was all taut lean muscle and moved with a quiet power. There wasn't enough light to make out the details of the designs, but she could see a patch of ink on his right thigh.
Later, she planned to explore every inch of his amazing body. But just then, she needed him with her, in her. She needed a resolution to the hours of build-up between them.
Harry tossed the silver wrapper in the can between the stand and her bed and unrolled the condom over his length. Paisley blushed though she couldn't look away—she'd always found that action particularly erotic. When he looked at her and smiled, she pushed herself back up to the pillows and held out a hand to him.
He crawled over top of her and lowered his weight onto her. She'd always loved that feeling, the weight of a man's body covering hers, and it never felt better than when Harry's tall muscular frame encompassed hers so fully, so lovingly.
Taking her head gently into his hands, he pressed closed-mouth kisses against her lips until she pushed her tongue out and encouraged his lips to part. She could taste herself on him, something else that had always driven her mad because it was like tasting the pleasure he'd given her all over again. When Harry groaned around her probing tongue, she kissed him more deeply and sucked hard on his tongue until he broke free of her and playfully bit at her jaw in punishment for her teasing.
He stroked his fingers over her hair, then rubbed her cheekbone with his knuckles. "Are you sure?"
She smiled and nodded. "I'm very sure. You?"
He chuckled. "Um..." He pursed his lips and looked up at the ceiling, putting on what she assumed was supposed to be a thinking face.
She gasped and reached her hand around him and not so lightly smacked his ass.
His eyes dropped back to her. His mouth fell open.
Paisley cocked an eyebrow. "I told you I would smack you."
The laugh he let loose sounded so purely happy she grinned even though she was trying to look put out.
"That you did. I like a woman who keeps her word." He kissed her again, softly this time. "Yes, I am very sure I want you, Paisley. May I?" He gazed so intently in her eyes she almost thought he was asking for more than just permission to possess her body.
"Yes," she whispered, intending her answer as the reply to every way he might've meant his question.
Pushing himself up onto one elbow, Harry reached a hand down between them and stroked his fingers over Paisley's soft folds. He wanted to make sure she was ready. She was. Her responsiveness to him was thrilling. He centered his cock over her opening and met her eyes. And then he slowly pushed himself into her.
He groaned at the feeling of being inside of her, at the idea that maybe, just maybe, he'd found a place, a woman, he could belong to for all time.
The tight walls of her most private place gripped him fiercely, surrounding him in white-hot heat and velvet softness. He moaned low in his throat. "You feel so good."
When he filled her completely, he stilled and let them both savor the sensation.
She clutched at his shoulders. "So do you. God, I feel..."
He studied her face when she trailed off and watched a blush bloom on top of the flush their activities had already brought out in her skin. Now he was intrigued—he really wanted her to finish that sentence.
"What? What do you feel?" He strained to resist the instinct to move his hips.
She shook her head and flexed her hips, driving him deeper into her. It felt incredible, but he recognized the diversionary tactic for what it was. He pulled his cock out until just the tip of his head was still inside her. Tremors shook his shoulders with the effort it took not to sink back into her. "Tell me."
She groaned. "Harry, I need you." He smiled at the pleading in her voice. She wrapped her legs around his hips and pressed her heels into his ass. But he was too strong for her to be able to force him to move. She pouted, but relented. "I felt so incredibly full."
His ego buoyed, he didn't hesitate to recreate the feeling for her, and plunged immediately back into her gripping heat. "Like that?"
"Yes, just like that," she moaned. "God."
He remembered his earlier desire to see her when he took her and pushed himself up onto his arms. His hands settled on both sides of her ribs. He grunted appreciatively at the full view the position gave him.
He moved in her then, flexing his hips over and over, driving his rigid length into her slick tightness. Her muscles sucked at him as she shifted positions. He finally hooked his right arm under her left leg to force her more open underneath him. The change allowed him to plunge even deeper.
He shook his head at how good it all felt. "So tight. Christ, so wet."
She clamped her teeth down on her bottom lip and groaned as his repeated thrusts rocked into her. Her blue eyes were hooded with desire and flashed with a wondrous affection for him.
Harry returned her intense gaze. He caught her every movement, her every reaction to their joining. His mind began a catalog of information on Paisley he hoped he'd be fleshing out for a long time to come.
When she reached her wandering hands up to cup her own breasts and stroked her fingers over her nipples, he hummed in approval. "That's right. That looks so good."
He liked that she had the confidence to seek out pleasure during sex. She wasn't reserved. She didn't play games. Instead, she was real and completely guileless in the pursuit of their pleasure. Her honesty made her even sexier to him.
When Paisley's eyes dropped down to where they were joined, his eyes followed.
"Fuck," he murmured as he watched his wet cock slide in and out of her.
"We look...good...together," she panted softly.
"We look so fucking good together," he rasped. He gazed back up at her face. "You're so damned beautiful."
She blushed and smiled. The combination beckoned Harry to kiss her. He released her leg and lowered himself back onto his elbows, then cupped his hands under her shoulders for leverage. He claimed her mouth until their need to breathe made it too hard to continue.
The room filled with the sounds of their lovemaking. The shifting of bodies moving together. Their panting breaths and impassioned moans. The tapping of wood against wall. Every single sound reverberated directly to his cock and made him want her even more.
Enjoying the closeness of their bodies, Harry hunched himself possessively over her and slammed into her again and again. He rolled his pelvic bone into her clit with each thrust. The sound of her whimpering when he hit it spot on was the best reward.
"Sweet Harry," she whispered as she pressed a few open-mouthed kisses to his chest over his heart. He lowered his head and reverently kissed her forehead.
When she wrapped her legs around him, the added depth tightened everything in his groin. "Fuck," he said through a dry swallow, "I want you...to cum again. Can you do that for me?" He panted.
"Close," she rasped. "So close, Harry."
"Touch yourself. Cum with me."
She groaned, reached down with her right hand, and swiped through the wetness he was bringing out of her. She separated her fingers into a V and slid them around him as he plunged in and out of her. "Aw, Christ." The added sensation shoved him closer to the edge. "Paisley," he cautioned, his voice a raw scrape.
Her fingers moved, then circled over her clit. He lifted up just a little and glanced down. But he had to look away before the incredible sight of her touching herself did him in before she was ready.
"Just feel. Feel me filling you up. Feel your fingers stroking yourself."
A pleading whimper erupted from her throat. "Keep talking, Harry."
He moaned. The strain of holding back his orgasm flared. Then he blurted out the feeling most driving him crazy in that moment. "Christ, you're so tight, so fucking good. Everything about you..."
He felt her tighten around his cock and he groaned. Just a little more. Push her a little more.
"Cum," he growled through clenched teeth, "come for me."
The hand on his back clenched. Her short fingernails pinched as they sank into his skin.
"Pais—"
"Oh my...HARRY!"
"Fuck, yes." Her orgasm roared through her. Her inner walls milked at him relentlessly. It was all he could take. "Oh, Christ." He thrust into her once, twice, a third time. His release erupted into her still-clenching depths. His muscles strained as the most intense orgasm of his life slammed through him. He stilled himself all the way in her and shuddered against her as his cock continued to twitch. "Paisley," he whispered as he panted into her soft wavy hair. He pressed kisses down onto the damp skin of her forehead, then allowed his head to fall into the crook of her neck when he gently pulled out of her.
Long, comfortable moments of blissful silence passed. Being with her had been incredible, but it was how at ease he felt with her that most had him hoping he could stay the night, and tomorrow, and the month...
Peace was not an emotion with which he was much familiar, but with Paisley, he had it. And he didn't know how he'd ever give it up.