I'm just gonna leave this picture here without an explanation... you'll get it though.
I was always told that my captivation for electricity would lead me to incredible highs and dangerous lows in my existence. The natural ludicrous that ached my blood for stimulating shock was something I always found myself a prisoner too. I didn't like the dangerous things in life, I always coursed into making the right decisions like there was someone watching my every move. My whole life I cemented to the path of internal cleanliness and prosperity—my personality being an abundance of good graces and hard work. Grandma always told me I was a people pleaser, no matter where I went. I always strived to make her proud, to put on a joyous smile and play a cynical game of make believe that everything in my own world was perfect just so she could sleep at night. But when you immerse yourself in an act of perfection for so long, you start to forget who you really are when the curtains close. When you're alone on your bed with your knees to your chest, surrounded by all your masks laying stagnant on the bedding—you fall a victim to the criminals of indifference.
You're simply numb.
You try so hard not to feel things after the bad luck of people revolving in and out of your life, each taking a different piece of you within their vast exit. You just put a smile on your face and avoid; you avoid and avoid and avoid until you merely forget about the pain and what you were trying to hide. Life starts feeling like a cycle of distracting routines and dull moments until you start to find yourself doing things in dissociating thoughts. You stand in the mirror after your hot shower, rugged towel tight around your chest while you just stare at the mascara residue under your eyes for a worrisome amount of time. You discover situations where you just couldn't help but touch that hot lightbulb with the tip of your finger, knowing it will burn but for some reason needing to feel certain about something. It's the state of being numb, and when you finally strive to reach that point, you wish nothing more then to get out of it.
It's a trap, it's always a trap.
Wanting not to feel so you don't have to be in unfixable pain anymore. The minute you go numb, you wish you could take it all back. You forget who you are, and you hate what you've become. You continue the smiles, the laughter, the act of the perfection—but deep down was nothing but a hollow box with a chilling wind the sound of brick tunnel.
That's why I love electricity.
Figuratively it made me feel something, shocking me down to my core like it was jumpstarting a dormant vessel in my heart. Sometimes it hurt, but only for a second. It made me feel warmth, the hairs of my arm standing up as my blood sent a pinching shiver down my back like a melting ice cube. Searching for this feeling wasn't easy, especially because the high would only last a second of time. I was frightened of the dangers carried with it—but electricity was my weak spot.
And as his lips were grazing up my neck, exuding hot air down the back of my shoulder—I felt that electricity. It was giving me a mirage of joyous colours in my head and a lovesick flutter in my stomach. It arched a smile on my face and sealed my eyes shut at the same time, lolling my head back against the hard elevator wall as I respire torrid air into the confined space. This was the type of electricity I was told to watch out for, the only area in my life where I didn't care about making the right decision.
Because when his hands roamed my body in urgency to pull me closer with anyway he could, I was in the stars. His grip traces down the damp fabric of my thin tank top, ending right at my ass to where he gives it a squeeze and pulls my body against his hips. The arch of my back leaving the wall and pressing against his dexterous build was enough for me to blindly grab him in anyway I could fathom. I grasp his biceps, soft skin blanketing solid muscles that were almost flexing from his tight grip on me. His sinister lips kiss and suck, sometimes nick. In pure lust he made evident that he was going to leave his mark on me again, imprinting himself a reminder of what this late night will become.
So indulged in the moment, I didn't even hear the elevator chime before he was pulling me out of it and curving me down the hall. He grasps his large hand to the back of my neck, leading me where to walk as we got closer and closer to his place.
After the stunt I pulled during our short car ride, he was more then ready to release his pent up frustration on me. When we reach the grey door at the end of the hall, he already had his keys out and jamming it into the lock. He quickly got the door open as the anticipation was at an all time high, my heart hypersonic while my chest was rising up and down in need of air.
He opens the door to the dark room, pulling me in while reaching out for the light switch. When the room filled with light, I was quick to see we were in an entry way that lead off into the grand open concept living room. The far wall was glass, showing off the glowing pool off on the large balcony.
My attention went else where before I got to take in his gorgeous interior. He slams the door behind him before meeting my lips with his. I grin at the feeling, his hands coming up to hold my cheeks while my lower back suddenly meets a cornered surface I could only guess was a side table. I take the opportunity to kick off my wet sneakers to avoid the prolonged step in the long run, remembering that one time he took them off for me. He wastes no time leaping me up to sit on the table behind me, the eager attempt forcing items to fly off the surface to be replaced with my body. I heard something shatter as his lips were moving with mine. In curtesy of his things I open my eyes and turn my head at what fell, seeing it was a small bowl to keep his keys and a crystal ashtray that inherently shattered across the hardwood. Old cigarette filters and tobacco ash spread across the floor from the ruthless action.
"Oh no—" His lips conjoined back to mine before I even got to finish my apologetic words, he didn't seem to care.
My head met a wall behind me, legs open and dangling off the rectangle foyer table. His hands draped down different parts of my body as he interlocked our lips in rhythm. He pushes my wet hair out of my face, making it cascade down my back so it wasn't in the way of our lips. My fingers lace across his hips, pulling them close for the friction I needed. I want to feel every inch of his body, every curve and edge pressing against me so we could breathe in unison. I wanted to delicately kiss his top lip while tugging his hair so rough that he'd have no choice but to whimper against me.
His hands grab the bottom of my tank top, peeling it up my body and forcing me to lift my arms. Our lips break for a second, the thin material swiping between us until it was off my body and being tossed to the floor. His erratic eyes waste no time looking down at the sheer texture of my black bra, my chest rising dramatically up and down with it. His jaw goes sharp in hunger as he flashes down into my collarbone. I arch my back while my shoulders lean back against the wall, his mouth starts exploring my chest and torso. I feather my eyes shut with my heavy panting, feeling the bliss of being touched. His arm was wrapped around my mid back, arching it so my chest was closer to his mouth. With my bra on he kisses over the cleavage, digging his head down and sucking on the valley my left breast to leave a mark. I whine, watching the interaction for a second before I couldn't no more. My head tossed back again, I wrapped my legs around him.
I needed traction in our hips, I wanted to feel him rub against me. My core was aching in plead, angst for friction.
He notices the need to feel him against me, his head pulling up from my chest to where we met gaze. His lips were reddened and swollen from sucking, parted and breathing heavy. I squeeze my legs around his hips harder, sending a message without using words.
"You wanna grind a bit baby?" He smirks in interest.
I nodded in desperation, dying for it at this point.
His eyes went dark, jerking the sides of my leggings down before I even realized his hands were on them. I jolt on the table, quickly gripping the edge for resistance as he peels the tight material off my legs. They fly off my ankles so I was just in my black bra and underwear at this point.
A shaky exhale flees his lips as he glances down at the thin material being the only thing covering my core at this point. He spreads my thighs and yanks them so I was hitched to the edge of the skinny entrance way table, wrapping my legs around him.
He undoes his belt, bruised knuckles and slender fingers lacing the leather strap and soon to be undoing his jeans. When he unzips, he uncovers his bulge but keeping it contained in his briefs. He takes a quick second to adjust the position of where his length would lay, tapering it upwards towards the band of his tight black boxers.
His lips suddenly meet mine again, my body leans back a bit until my head met the wall close behind me. It must've been a large mirror, because it didn't feel like regular drywall against my skull. While kissing me hungrily, his arm wraps around my lower back again while the other rests on my wrapped thigh. He cements me in position where I couldn't move away from him.
He presses his contained erection against my covered core, slowly starting to rub himself up and down against me. My stomach flexed a sharp knot at the sensitivity, my lips parting with a uncontrolled whimper into his.
His lips curled at my mercy, grinding himself against me through the scarcely thin materials we each had over us. My legs being spread and around him gave so much access to all angles of my clit that was already aching. I almost cuss out but contain myself, he buried into my neck, infecting me with all different kinds of kisses. Leaned back on my palms, I reach one out to grab a hard first of his hair. He responds with a rugged exhale against me, running his tongue up the hot skin at the same time.
"Fuck sakes— that feels good." He cusses in my ear while grinding his bulge up and down against me.
I answer with a nod and a whine of teasing pleasure. My eyes having no choice but to feather shut and enjoy the friction. I could feel the hardness of him pushing up and down my core in a dry grind, the pressure being a lot to handle. Still in my underwear it was leaving me begging for more. I couldn't even fathom actually having sex with him yet, my mind was still processing how amazing this was going.
The way I could feel the ridge of his tip knock my collection of nerves at every glide. I moan into the hot air, both hands now tugging his damp hair. I was clung around him, the pressure between my legs sending me into a spiral.
He pulls back with a muttered grunt, grabbing my hips and whipping me off the table in front of him. Quickly he flips me around so I was facing the table I was just sitting on, coming face to face with us in the mirror I suspected was behind my head.
I made eye contact with myself, then up at Harry who had a dark look. He stands behind me and slightly to the right, looking me dead in the eye through the mirror. I was breathing heavy, my core trembling at this point.
He laces his hand up the front of my body, looking me right in the eye as his bruised cut hand wrapped around my throat. My head naturally leaned back against his shoulder, his dark pink lips dipping down into my ear.
"Do you like choking, angel?" He kept the eye contact through the rectangle mirror while muttering sinister words into my ear.
I swallow uncontrollably, his hand firm around my windpipe but not cutting off my breaths. I paused before answering, intimidated by his forest green eyes and discreet words.
"I–I have asthma." I spit out like someone else made me say it.
Why the fuck did I just say that?
He smirks against my ear, humming to himself so his chest vibrates against me. A tight shiver ran down my spine.
"I'm not going to cut off your air supply baby." He whispers before looking at me through the mirror again. "Do you see where my fingers are?"
I stare at the exact placement of his fingers; four were under the hook of my jaw, the thumb the same but on the other side. I nod to myself, even though I was restricted with any head movements.
"I'm not going to cut off your airways. When I squeeze here with my thumb and forefinger..." He applies pressure, making my lips part as I right away felt a heaviness in my head. "It cuts off your blood flow, which gives you a euphoric head rush."
He presses under my jaw as I kept feeling that rush he was talking about. It slowly filled my head with what could only be described as thin air.
"You made me really frustrated on that car ride, you know that?" He toys with my ear, holding my throat with a grip that forces me to face the mirror. "Stroking and spitting on my cock while I was driving...thinking you can get me off before we got home..."
He takes his other hand and gently reaches up to my lips, slowly taking his three painted fingertips and sticking them between my teeth. The pads delicately rub across my wet tongue, coating them in saliva. When he pulls them out, he gently laces them down the length of my body. With his other hand still tight around my throat, he watches me through the mirror. His lubricated fingers valley down my stomach, making my breathing pick up. When he got to my underwear, he paused for just a moment to leave me on edge. I watch his fingers like glue through the mirror, breathing heavier through this hand on my neck.
"It was not very angel of you..." He whispers into my ear while keeping eye contact through the reflection.
He slips them into my underwear, going right down to my core that was already soaked. I exhale heavy, watching his large bruised hand disappear into the sheer fabric.
"So slight punishment is what you need...."
He suddenly pushes all three fingers into me sharply, forcing me to drop my jaw and cry out a whimpering gasp of surprise. He's always eased into three, not started with it right off the bat.
My hand blinding grab him in anyway I could, one hand on his thigh while the other on his wrist that belonged to the hand in my underwear. I somehow forced to keep my eyes open, his vision right on mine. He parts his lips at the action like he felt what I was feeling, puffing hot air against my ear as he watches me take his three fingers curled inside of me. I was also standing, this was so much to handle at once.
"Harr—"
"Shh..." He shushes my whine, kissing my ear. "Do you want me to stop?"
He slowly draws them in and out of me at this sharp angle and tight fit, waiting for an answer. I toss my head back as he keeps his grip on my throat, totally deal locking me against him. My eyes wire shut as it felt good but very tight.
"God..." I cry out with my head on his shoulder.
"God can't help you now angel.." He kisses the corner of my lips from behind me, slowly fucking me with his three fingers.
He breathes heavy against my ear in the moment of raw magnetism, gliding his fingers into me where I have no choice but to adjust. I keep my tight grip on his thigh and his wrist, needing anything to keep me feeling grounded. I kept my lips parted and my head tossed back on him, moaning out as his fingers start moving faster and curl in more of a rhythm.
"Harry—" I moan in desperation.
"Its too bad you're ex had a small dick," He whispers against my ear. "I don't know how you'll handle me when you can barely handle my fingers..."
I whine from his words, too preoccupied to scold him for bringing up Ryan at a time like this. The pressure on my neck was making me feel lightheaded like he said, holding my body against him. The heavy panting in my ear was only adding to the sensation, hearing how feral he was becoming simply by fingering me like this. I was adjusting to the feeling, but it was so intense to take in all at once.
I force my eyes open again, looking into the mirror we were facing. He was watching my facial expressions so closely, side of his head into my ear while scorching hot breath. His large hand was flexed around my throat, silver rings danced on his fingers, veins sharp and chiseled. The image was pure sex alone.
My knees were becoming weak, causing my legs to fall more and more limp. He notices my body starting to slide down a bit, immediately he tights his grip on my throat to keep me up against him.
"Baby can't take much more, can she?" He rasps.
I shook my head and whimper, his fingers curling in and out at me at a fast paced.
"Are you sorry for trying to make me cum while I was driving?" He demands an answer.
I bite the inside of my cheek, the stubborn side of me not wanting to confess such things. I shut my eyes instead, my mind foggy from the choking mixed with his fingers pumping in me at this angle.
"Don't be a brat." He mutters into my ear with sexual demand. "Tell me you're sorry."
I whine as his fingers move faster, more ruthless. I keep grip of his thigh in resistance, the other still holding his wrist. He wanted me to admit it but my mind was fighting my body. I was interested to see where this sexual persona of his was going, maybe that's why I haven't apologized yet.
"I'm sorry." I spit out anyway, not wanting to push it too far tonight.
He smirks against my ear, stopping his fingers and pulling them out of me to make a glistening trail up my stomach. I catch my breath while he lets go of my throat, flipping me around so I crashed my chest into his. He bends his knees and wraps his arms around the back of my thighs, hoisting me up so my feet leave the ground. I grasp the back of his head while my legs wrap around his waist. Before I got to speak, his lips met mine. Taking my breath away he walks deeper into the living room, stepping over the glass on the floor.
He moves our lips together while hurrying us into the grand living room I still haven't got to look in depth to yet. His hands hold my ass as I was just in my bra and underwear still, my core was aching and dying to feel him in anyway I could. My mind was getting ahead of itself, because I was already envisioning him rocking into me with heavy moans of pleasure leaving his lips.
I was so nervous but so excited.
He bent down as my back suddenly met flat cushions. I pull my lips away from his just so I could see where I was laying. When I turned my head, I saw how I was on this giant sectional grey couch, specifically on the wide ottoman attached to the end. The couch was very wide, not your typical couch. The ottoman at the end was very open with no sides to it, there was plenty of room to do so many things.
"Shit—I should take you up upstairs probably." He cusses in mistake of bringing me to the couch rather than his bed.
He goes to lift me up again, but I halt him.
"No." I whisper with a head shake. "Lets do it here."
It was the adventurous side of me talking I think, because those words just came out.
"You want me to fuck you on this couch?" He half smirks but was also in slight shock.
"Mhmm." I lift my head up to kiss him, interlinking our lips together as he was stood over the ends of the couch but leaning over me on his palms.
"I thought you would want to be in a bed." He mumbles into my lips, being cautious.
"I've never had sex anywhere else but in a bed." I answer into the kiss. My statement coursed a deviant grin up his lips, kissing me once more before pulling back up tall.
"We have no choice then," He agrees, staring down my body laying in front of him. "Looks like I'm fucking you on my sectional."
I barely got a grin out until he slid his hand under my head and jerks me up to be sitting on the edge of the couch, my heigh meeting his hips. I peer up at him through my eyelashes, his towering height looking down at me with a darkness.
"You know what to do, sucker baby." He rasps a cheeky nickname, gently raking his black fingernails through my hair and gathering it behind my head.
Sucker baby—I like it.
I level my eyes back out to his waist, his jeans still undone but his his tight black briefs still covering his bulge. I slide my hands up his legs, latching onto the grey band of the material and bunching them down into his jeans. Once released from the confines, his intimidating length flies up against his shirt. I waste no time grabbing the base and taking his sensitive tip between my lips, swirling my tongue once before leaning in more to fill my mouth.
He breathes in sharp through his teeth at the first touch of my tongue, holding my hair back with one hand. I slide my head forward until I reached my limit, drawing back and repeating. I leave one hand on his shaft while the other on his left hip bone right below his shirt, the small area of exposed skin I let myself rub with the pad of my thumb.
He scuffles a grunt in pleasure, gripping my hair harder as I draw him in and out of my wet mouth—stroking the part I couldn't fit. The pull against my scalp was sending a drift of cold pleasure down my neck. I take him all the way down so his head hits the back of my throat until I gag, feeling him twitch at the nerves.
"Just like that—fuck..." He breathes hastily.
I hum as my eyes water, bobbing my head again as he glides in and out of my mouth. I felt the wetness between my legs hearing him struggle with his words out of pure pleasure. His free hand drifts down my back until I felt the base of my bra come loose, he manoeuvres it off my arms while I was still sucking him off in full attention.
Still holding my hair back, his other hand reaches down to my exposed chest. He grazes his hand over my left breast, very discreetly pinching the more sensitive part between his two fingers. I stifle with him deep in my mouth, his hand then palming me to sooth the sharp action.
He moans into the heavy air, lacing his hand up to firmly hold the back of my neck. With the other hand still in my hair, he gradually thrusts his hips a bit. I pinch my eyes shut as he kicks the back of my throat, causing me to gag. I grasp his swaying hip for more control, whimpering against him.
"Good girl.." He encourages, my stomach flexing.
I let him rock into my mouth, concentrating so I don't gag. He wasn't being too rough with it, I think a part of him was holding back from completely fucking my throat.
He pulls me back as I catch my breath, a string of my clear saliva webbing off his tip and to my bottom lip. I look up at him with glossy eyes and swollen lips. Darkness was heavy in his eyes as they connected with my own, his thumb coming up to pull my wet bottom lip.
A dark smile curves up his face.
"You're my type of angel." He whispers in deviance, keeping one hand on the back of my neck while the other gently swiped back and forth over my bottom lip.
I grab his wrists and suddenly yank him to me, he falls forward so his hands press into the cushion I was sitting on while his feet stay planted on the ground. Still sitting up on the edge, I glance my eyes up at his face right aligned with me now.
Staring at his lips, he leans the inch forward and kisses me. Robbing my breath from my lungs I scoot backwards so he was forced to keep crawling forward until he was up on all fours above me. Once having him completely on the couch, I swiftly flip us over so I was suddenly straddling his thighs. His cock still was out and up on his stomach, my hands immediately going to his jeans.
I tug the tight material that was still damp from the rain, only getting it an inch down until his hands grab mine in halt. He suddenly sits up so we were at head level again, my eyes finding his. With his hard grip stopping my action of undressing, I saw the instant discomfort in his eyes that masked that dark lust.
"I don't..um.. typically take off my pants." He whispers with a whole different mood, one that was more serious but soaked in discomfort.
I arch my brow.
"Your pants?" I ask in clarity.
He nods, being serious. I took a second to stare in his eyes in hope for a further explanation, but he wasn't giving me anything.
"May I ask why?" I murmur.
He freezes, breaking eye contact while looking off to window. His hands were still on mine like he was afraid I'd just do it anyway. I gave him a second to answer, not wanting to push anything.
"Only because... I...I look kinda silly in just a shirt," He answers while keeping his eyes out the window in avoidance. "And I do not take off my shirt."
I breathe in silently, looking at his bruised side profile as he avoided the contact. My mind immediately went back to that day where I found him in the tub. I remember going to get him changed but he snapped his hands around my wrists when I went to peel off his shirt. Even drunk and high out of his mind, he was so assertive with not taking his shirt off. I always kept that in the back of my mind, noticing how he never takes it off anywhere whether it's the heat or the water.
"That's okay..." I whisper, still looking at his side profile. "I had a feeling you'd want to leave your shirt on. But if you'll let me, I'd love to take off your pants anyway."
He turns his head back to look at me, meeting eyes again to where I found the green in them. We paused with a moment in time, his eyes probably reading me to figure out if I actually meant that. I felt the need to speak again.
"I don't think you'll look silly in just a shirt and no pants, but we can do whatever you're comfortable with. I don't want to push anything." I whisper.
It seemed like the pants weren't the issue to him, he just leaves them on because if not it just draws more attention to the fact he's hiding something under his shirt. I guess with girls he's been with, he just leaves all his clothes on in general to avoid the questions of why his shirt must stay on. I don't know what he's hiding, but I was afraid to ask. I didn't want him to get all defensive if I make him uncomfortable with his boundaries. It kills me to know he's insecure in some way, but it wasn't my business to overstep and ask.
"Okay." He whispers in agreement. "I'll take off my pants."
I smile a bit, needing reassurance.
"Are you sure?"
He nods, letting go of my hands. In reflex I lean forward and peck his jubilant lips, pulling back and sliding down straddle his knees. He stays sat up and leaned back of his palms, watching me grab the waist of his jeans again.
I start pulling them down his thighs, he wiggles a bit to help me with the fickle wet material. A smile branches up his lips when they got lower and lower down his soft thighs. I shuffle down his long legs as I get the material to his knees, noticing a small tattoo right above his right knee cap.
It was a sentence that was upside down to me, scribbled words that my guess were done by him and a needle. I didn't want to draw to much attention to it with my eyes, because I know he doesn't take off his pants ever so this tattoo obviously was never meant to be seen to others. The scribbled black ink was sloppy and upside down to face him rather than me near his feet, I decided to move on from it.
Once the material got down his shins, I saw how he was more tanned and more hairy. His calves were slender and blanketed in soft light brown hair, fading out near his ankles. Is it weird to say he has really nice legs?
I kneel at the end now and rip the wet jeans off his large feet, taking off his socks as well. I realized also this was the first time I was seeing his bare feet, surprisingly they weren't painted. But right away instead I noticed a tattoo on his big toe.
"Big?" I smirk in slight confusion, looking up across the length of his body.
He grins at the tattoo he obviously did himself, looking down at his toe and shrugs.
"I was drunk."
I chuckle with a head shake, reaching across to grab his boxers and whip them down his legs too so he was completely naked from the waist down. I crawl myself up him again, sitting on his soft thighs in just my underwear at this point. In a trance I lean into his lips to where he slowly reclines flat on the couch. His erection lays between us, trapped between our stomachs as we take a moment to kiss. His hands lace up the back of my thighs as I was hovering over him, his head lifting off the cushion to meet with more force.
His lips felt so perfect with mine, lacing with me in unison like matching puzzle pieces. I was in awe of his taste, totally lost in the ropes of him. The more we kiss, the more heated it got. He pulls my bottom lips between his teeth, kissing me afterwards. The panting got heavier, his shaft between our stomachs starting to rub a bit in uncontrolled motion of his hips. Our tongues tangled for a moment as he grabs the back of my head, grunting into me with a feral need of lust.
In one harsh motion he grabs my throat and flips us over on the wide couch, nailing me think the cushion with a clenched jaw and a tight grip around my neck. Hovering above me he slides his hand down into my underwear, running his two fingers up my slit. I part my lips as he grazed my clit.
"Are you soaking wet for me angel?" He antagonizes me, holding my throat and stroking his fingers up and down my core.
I nod, grabbing his wrist with both hands.
"You sure you want me to fuck you? I don't think you'll be able to handle it." He whispers in evil rather then caution, trying to make me beg.
"Please Harry..." I give him what he wants. "I want you."
"Oh yeah?" He encourages in tease. "You want me?"
I whine and nod, shutting my eyes as he continues to rub his fingers gentle up and down my clit now. He knew he was driving me nuts, I was begging for him at this point. I couldn't handle anymore waiting. My stomach is in knots just thinking about it.
"Say it again." He demands.
"I want you so badly." I immediately cry out, his finger starting to slowly circle the bundle of nerves. "Please Harry."
"Will you listen to me?" He mutters in control.
I nod obsessively.
"Yes." I squirm beneath him.
He sits himself up between my legs, taking his hand off my neck and the other out of my underwear. With my legs spread open on either side of him, he grabs the last article of clothing on my body. I lift my legs up in the air as he slides the flimsy material off my ankles and tosses them to the floor. Completely naked now, he pushes my thighs back and apart, eyes gazing down at my core to where he couldn't help himself but lean down and run his tongue along my folds. I suck in a sharp breath of sensitivity, watching him do the hungry action a couple times before slipping his long pointy tongue into me. I felt the warm invasion, his hands harshly keeping push on my thighs so they were shoved back against my torsos. I moan out and clench, his tongue slipping in and out of me for a second. I aggressively grab a fist full of his hair for resistance, he grunts into me at the action.
He pulls back up with wet lips and a heavy breath, releasing my legs so the bottoms of my feet met the couch again, still open around him.
He leans to the left at the black coffee table in the centre of the sectional couch, it was a low table with four skinny legs. He pulls open one of the drawers, fishing his hand in before pulling out a gold square foil. His hand slams the drawer shut after, my heart rate picking up.
I won't ask why he has condoms in his living room table.
His fingers bring the corner of the condom foil to my lips, I immediately got flashbacks to the first time we hooked up and he brought the corner of a sucker packet to me. I take the foil between my teeth and rip the corner open. He then pulls it back and fishes the latex ring out of the package.
My chest was rising up and down, this all started to feel very real. I was ready, but I couldn't help to be nervous because he was so big. I hope to god he'd keep in mind I wasn't very experienced in sex. I'm okay with being rough, but hopefully he goes easy in the beginning. I couldn't begin to think how much it would hurt if he just slammed into me at the first thrust.
With the condom in his dominant hand, he looks down and places it at his tip. Before he rolls it down, he take his other hand and laces it up to my mouth. Breathing heavy, his two centred fingers push past my lips and hook behind my bottom row of teeth. I teasingly suck the two fingers while he rolls the clear rubber down his intimidating length throbbing to the touch. He was swollen at the end, veins bulging on the skin like it was almost painful how much blood was pumping to it.
He whines at me sucking on my fingers, meeting eyes with me for a second through the curl hanging in his face. I was merely sweating in anticipation, laying naked in front of him.
He finished rolling the condom down himself, pulling his fingers out my mouth and bringing both his hands to my hips. He remains sat up in front of me, breathing heavy as his chest puffed up and down beneath the old band shirt.
"You sure you want this?" He says one last time, more serious than when he was teasing me about it before.
I nod quickly, absolutely aching at this point and begging to feel him. It feels like this moments has been building for so long, I wanted him so bad.
"Please fuck me." I cuss because I was so riled up at this point, not being able to wait any longer.
A smirk curves up his face, his tall body staying sat back on his ankles between my legs. My words were enough because he immediately positioned my legs where he wanted them. He wrapped my one thigh around his waist, taking the other and throwing it up over his shoulder so my foot was next to his head.
He kisses my ankle bone next to him, grabbing my waist. I've never been in this position before; one leg up on his chest and only leg wrapped around his hip. My chest was rising up and down while I watched his eyes go down between our bodies. His knees separated so he could line up to me, the length of his torso towering better my legs.
His lips were parted and wet, lashing his tongue across the bottom. Stray curls hang in his face as his vision was tilted down. He mellowed out his breathing in concentration, grabbing himself to position while still holding my hip with the other.
He takes his tip and runs it up and down my slit in tease. I whimper in the back of my throat, his eyes immediately snapping to mine at the noise. A sultry smirk glistened up his face, it was a look of tease.
I shudder when his head grazed by clit, a shock sending through me. His eyes narrow back down between my legs, lining himself up so he was pressed against my core.
Holding himself in place, he slowly pushes his hips forward. My body stretches around him as he calmly drives his tip into me for the initial adjustment of how thick he was. My lips part as I halt my breathing, concentrating on the feeling. I quickly remembered that this was the first time I've had sex in a long time, I forgot what this felt like.
"Fuck..." He exhales under his breath.
He pushes a bit past the head, freezing with just that much while he lets out a heavy exhale of relief. He keeps his eyes down at the contact, rubbing my hipbone with his free hand that wasn't gripping his shaft. I could feel the ridge where his tip met his shaft, that how tight I was around him. There was a wave of pleasure that came with the feeling, but also a bit of heavy pressure.
He pushes forward a little more, only about an inch. It already felt like my limit was pushed but I know he was barely half in. I moan out in slight discomfort, flexing my body.
"Just relax... I can feel you tensing up." He hushes, immediately I try to loosen my muscles a bit.
He rocks with just half of himself, very slowly trying to get me to ease up to the adjustment. My hands reach the back of his soft thighs, needing to hold onto him in some way. He peers up at me here and there, checking my face to see what I was thinking.
"Shit.." He whispers to himself. "You're so tight Av."
I breathe heavy in return, watching his hips gently rock. He adds about two more inches, getting deeper. I arch my back and wire my eyes shut, taking a harsh inhale. He does the same thing as before, just slowly rolling his hips with that exact amount. I appreciate his methods of helping me adjust, I don't know what I would've done if he just rammed into me. This was already a lot to handle. It didn't hurt, it was just uncomfortable and was going to take some time.
It was really intense. Every time I felt like I was at my limit, he adds more. I was starting to think the length was never going to end.
"Fuck.. that's almost all of it." He cusses in pleasure, my eyes were shut but I knew his jaw was to the floor. His panting was heavy, his hand gripping my hip harder in intensity.
He pushes more until I finally felt his hips meet the back of my thigh that was up on his chest, completely in at this point. I gasp out as I was so tight around him and completely filled, tossing my head back and squirming a bit. I flex my abandonment, causing him to moan out.
"I can feel you clench around me.." He stammers in pleasure into the air, the tightness gripping him harshly.
"God Harry—" I mumble overwhelmed.
He kisses my ankle again, holding my thigh against his torso while his other remains on my hip. He slowly pulls back and rolls forward, very subtly because I think he sensed my discomfort. We were both breathing so heavy, my body breaking out in sweat just by how much this was.
I could feel every edge of him slowly driving through me. The ridge of his head, the pulsing veins laced around him. My stomach was in knots, every time his hips met mine I felt a bit of sharpness. It felt like I was loosing my virginity all over again, he was way more to handle then Ryan and I simply wasn't use to it.
"You feel so good angel—" He whispers under his breath, being slow like I wanted it.
I whine into the air above me, laying in front of him on this very wide ottoman. My hands kept grip on the back of his thighs, feeling them slowly sway with his hips. This was on the verge of feeling good, there was just some adjusting that was holding me back from being in complete pleasure. It helps that this moment has been building for a while, it made me more comfortable with it all.
"Harry—" I moan his name as I was slowly warming up to the feeling.
I open my eyes look at him still sat up between my legs, rocking his body into mine slowly. His eyes were heavier than before, really immersed in the moment.
He pulls my legs off his shoulder, sliding it down and mimicking the one that was already around his waist. His hands run up my stomach and grip the sides of my ribs, his rings cold to touch. I arch my back in his grip, whimpering out with my head tossed back.
"Are you good?" He checks in while rocking, thumbs rubbing over my ribs.
"Yes—" I say quickly. "You can go faster."
He nods and picks up, moving his hips with more rhythm. I started to feel more comfortable, adjusting well but it was still a lot to handle. He cusses as he picks up speed, I felt a warmth of pleasure start acting up in my lower stomach. I look up at him and his red cheeks, inked arms jetted across me and holding my rib cages. His hands were sweaty like he was nervous, it's not what I expected.
I arch my back uncontrollably, but he was quick to nail me back down so I was flat on the couch. Trembling whimpers left my lips as I was feeling every part of him in such a raw manor. He courses in and out of me at a moderate pace, his hips rolling in a rhythm that made him an expert. He knew what angles felt good for a woman, I could tell just by the texture of his strokes.
My stomach started spinning, a joyous feeling becoming heard in the depth of my core. He was hitting the right spots, and the more he did it the more I felt use to his size.
"Yes— shit Harry right there." I cry out in impending pleasure.
"Are you starting to feel good angel?" He encourages with a gravelly tone, panting with it.
I hum a yes, my eyes wiring shut as we kept this position that was really doing me good now. His hands slide further up my body, eventually meeting my throat to where he wrapped both hands around it. I force my eyes open to feel the grip on my windpipe with both hands, his body rocking into me more dominantly. I grab his biceps to ground myself, feeling the squeeze of my blood flow.
"Tell me, I don't want a hum." He demands harsher, that more dominant persona taking over as I was adjusting.
"It feels so good Harry." I whine with my eyes shut, gripping his slender wrists.
"Open your eyes and look at me." He rasps.
I open my overwhelmed eyes and make contact with his towering up near my legs. His irises were dark as night, stray hairs hanging in his vision. He was chiseled, tuned out with raw masculinity pouring through his blood.
"Say it again." He whispers darkly, rocking his hips and hitting all the right spots doing it.
"It feels so good." I obey, submissive to his actions.
He grunts at my words, gripping his large hands harder around my neck while picking up pace. I whine out at the increase of speed, tossing my head back and clenching my thighs around his waist. I was panting like there was no oxygen in the room anymore, slowly pouring out of the room. I could feel the head rush in my brain, still air floating in it from his choking. The pleasure I was feeling at each thrust was enough to make my stomach heavy. I couldn't believe I was able to take all of him—his hips were touching mine at each thrust.
His aggression started to get more and more heightened, he was slowly loosing the methods of being delicate. His grip on me was getting tighter, his thrusts becoming sharper like he was loosing the battle of gentleness. When I peer up into his eyes across the length of my torso, they were dark behind the bruises. His jaw was sharp like he was clenching it, I was starting to see that dominant persona taking over like he warned me about back in the car.
"Fuck..." I curse into the stagnant air, the pressure in my head getting heavy from the restriction on my neck.
His hands roam down my arched stomach, swallowing my sides with his large hands to get a better grip on me. I stare up at his tall body, his rugged Ramones shirt with holes in the collar covering his skin from the world. I pondered on how good he would look without the shirt on, knowing he was probably blanketed in muscles. I wanted to see the sweat coating his whole body, to see his chest pumping up in down while thrusting between my weak legs.
The thoughts drive a devilish idea in my head, and before I knew it—I acted on it.
I flew upright and grabbed the back of his neck, in one quick motion I pull him down on top of me. His hands dug into the couch for resistance before I quickly flipped us over. Shock rained down his face as he was suddenly laying beneath me, his hands laying in fists next to his head.
Up on my knees in a straddle, I lower myself down slowly so he pushes through again. The angle made my head toss back as I very cautiously took all of him—on top. I gulp in a heavy breath, pinching my eyes shut because this was way more profound then when I've done it before.
"Aven you don't have to—"
"Shh..." I cut him off, feeling the intense pressure while holding his bare hips for support. They were jagged and sharp, right below the hem of his shirt.
"You hate top." He remembers with a heavy pant, grabbing my thighs straddling him.
"I wanna try it with you." I say quickly to shut him up, knowing he wasn't use to this either. From what I remember, he doesn't let girls ride him. I won't be shocked if he flips me off of him.
I rock my hips slowly, trying to find the rhythm I use to have but I was very out of practice. It didn't help he was harder to ride given his size. Every roll of my hips would create a new spot of discomfort mixed with pleasure, they were angles in me I didn't know existed.
He doesn't protest the action, fighting his dominant pride and instead sliding his back up to the main part of the couch so he can rest the back of his neck on the armrest. This made his torso curve down rather then just laying flat beneath me. I grind my hips back and forth, trying to get use to the angle before I decide to bounce. I tower above him, my hands grasping his hips while he death gripped mine. His eyes trace down the length of my torso and stay on my hips rolling with him buried inside me. His tongue lapses his lower lip to make it lubricated, eyes heavy at the bliss this came with. I could feel the luxury of the slow movements start to take over, he felt so good.
"Fuck...me.." He scuffles, furrowing his brows and watching my hips roll over his.
He gyrates with mine a bit, creating a rhythm I followed. I toss my head back and grab his thighs behind me, his hands running up my sides and roaming my breasts to spark more satisfaction.
I start lifting up and down, panting out into the air above us. My body was broken out into a sweat at this point, his hands lacing up my back and digging his nails into my skin. I fall my head forward to look down at him, my hands blindly grabbing his chest. Before I got to feel the hard muscles over the fabric, he ripped my hands off and fold them together behind my back.
"No touching me there." He looks up at me in seriousness, but breathing heavy from the pleasure.
I nod, not realizing places under his shirt were also off boundaries to not only see but touch. He held my wrists together with one hand behind my back, holding my hip with the other so I was completely under this control. I bounce my hips a little faster, nailing him into the couch cushion. I stammer out a heavy moan at the angle and how big he was, hitting me in so many different spots. I dropped my chin to my chest, wiring my eyes shut and biting my lip at the intensity.
"Fuck!" He looses control and grabs the back of my neck, whipping me down against him so I nuzzle into his shoulder. I gasp at the sudden angle but had no time to think about it before he took control and started thrusting up into me.
I cry out in pleasure while he folds my arms behind my back so I was deadlocked on him. The position was intense, it felt like I was slowly deteriorating as he drives every inch up between my hovered legs.
"God Harry!" I whimper into his neck, making it wet of perspiration. I could feel his lips against my jaw, nicking the corner with his teeth.
"Take it baby." He slaps my ass with his free hand, the sharp burn waving up my skin and causes me to struggle out a pleasured cry. After slapping, he rubbed the inflamed skin in a soothing motion.
The restriction of my hands mixed with the thrusting up between my legs made my body completely surrendered to him. I heard a scratchy groan in his throat—slapping my ass again.
I shout at the harsh contact in the same spot, hearing the intense sound of my skin going red. He rubs the spot again, still thrusting harshly up into me and breathing heavy against my jawline.
"Yeah?" He answers my shout into his neck, making my stomach twist. I dug my forehead into his shoulder, the fabric of his shirt burning up at my heavy pants and moans. I was on overload, this was so intense.
He sits up with me on him, his feet going to the floor while laying his back upright against the couch. Sitting up around him now, I start bouncing my hips on him again at a quick pace. He takes my breast into his mouth as I raised myself up and down, his tongue gliding along the most sensitive parts in strokes from my movements. I moan out his name while bouncing, his nails clinging into my back and dragging as I felt the burning trail. This angle still had its discomforts but overall was very pleasurable. Feeling him driving into me at my control was making my stomach knot. I was going at a quicker speed, dying to feel that bliss explode in me. I was so overwhelmed in this moment with him that I can't imagine not orgasming with it.
His forehead lazily falls to my collarbone, clinging to me as I rode him. His hot panting from his open mouth perspire against my chest, his hair now sweaty and pressing a mess just below my neck. My mouth fell open as I wired my eyes shut at the tight angles. This was like a whole new experience. I felt the burn in my thigh muscles from the workout, but god it was worth it.
In need of another connection, I tilt his head back from my chest so he looks up at me. His eyes open lazily, lips parted and glistening. I dip my head down and kiss him, feeling the spark the flew aimlessly to my heart. He moans in the back of his throat as our lips met, everything suddenly slowing down.
I froze my movements, taking a brief pause just to focus on the intimate feeling that was way more special then anything else we've done tonight. The kiss neutralized everything in this high paced moment, his arms turning to putty around me. It felt like time went stagnant and life turned to slo-mo. I breathe in a needed breath through my nose, my eyes tiredly shut.
I felt as if my heart would rupture as his hand met my sweaty cheek, it was so soft.
I slowly move my hips again, this time rolling them instead of bouncing. Keeping our lips together, I felt the need to relish in this calm moment between all the craziness. He gently laces his hands to my hips, helping me move them back and forth on them while kissing. I felt him slide against all very sensitive parts within me, the motions making my stomach turn.
I like kissing him a lot.
I couldn't help but whimper into him, more or so over the kiss rather then the grinding. Our mouths were puzzling together in synchronization, I literally felt my breath being taken away. He tenderly held my hips to keep my weak body rolling, the burning sensation still strong on my ass.
I dig my hands into his hair, yanking it hard in revenge of all the control he's had over me. He moans out into this kiss, his hands burning harder into my skin.
He likes his hair being pulled.
"Do you like it when I pull your hair, angel?" I quote his exact words from last time, speaking in a more charging voice against his lips.
His eyes open up to mine, instant darkness washing over this face from my words that were meant to make him to feel submissive to me. Still rolling myself on him, I pull his hair harder in want of an answer. His head cocks back from my pull at the back of his scalp, he clenches his teeth.
"You don't talk to me like that." He mutters as I question his authority.
"No?" I push.
"Aven.." He warns as I test him, his head tilted back but his eyes still on mine.
I pout in protest, knowing his dominant pride didn't like that. His eyes went low with frustration, his jaw going tapered in aggression.
I should've guessed he would snap; because suddenly he stood up with me on his waist, buried inside of me and falling to his knees on the floor. My back suddenly laid across the small coffee table, and he wasted no time throwing both of my legs over his shoulders.
I gasped out as he starts rocking his body again, this time very rough. With both of my legs up against his chest, he draws his hips back slowly and rams them forward. I cry out desperately at each thrust, his hands around my legs and gripping my shoulders to keep me dead locked where he wanted me. I could feel his rings piercing into the top of my shoulders, his finger tips digging harshly behind.
"Harry!" I moan out at the roughness.
"You want to test me? You like being a brat?" He provokes, on his knees thrusting into me slowly but roughly.
The whole table rocks when he intensely drove his hips forward repeatedly. I gripped the edge next to my hips, desperately needing something to hold.
"Oh my go—" I couldn't finish my words, arching my back.
"Don't move." He spits. "And keep your eyes open."
I open my tired eyes and look at him like he wanted, meeting his solid dark irises surrounded by red bruises. With my thighs up his body and ankles next to his head, he rocks harshly at a slow sharp rhythm. His hands on my shoulders kept me still.
I take an unsteady inhale at every hit forward, the sharp thrusts digging deep to a place I didn't know existed. He draws his eyes down to my core he was rocking his hips between, sucking in a sharp breath through his teeth at the pleasured sight. He gazes for a moment, tranquilized by the image of him disappearing into me over and over sharply. He was sweating along the hairline, hair hung in his face.
He releases my left shoulder, bringing his thumb across to my lips. He jams the finger in my mouth just to engulf it with my own saliva, the pad of his thumb gliding across my flat tongue. He then trails the glossy fingers down the length of my body, reaching where he was harshly rocking into me. I was so distracted by the thrusts that I couldn't even bother with what he was gonna do next to further weaken me. My heart was beating like a freight train and my lower stomach was pulsating a bit. Shots of pleasure mixed with some manageable pain shocked through me at every tight thrust.
His lubricated thumb started circling my clit, the rest of his fingers laying on my stomach. I gasp out at the sudden touching of my very sensitive nerves, instantly whining as he circled it with the pad of his black painted thumb.
My hands blindly grab fists fulls of his shirt over his hips, just being able to reach. He kept his left hand on my shoulder, burning his fingers into me.
"I said don't move." He gave me zero mercy.
"I can't—" I stifle our stressed words, my stomach jumping repeatedly now.
The mix of his sharp thrusting with his thumb circling my collection of nerves is nothing I've ever experienced before. It was a lot to handle all at once. It felt like two heavy orgasm points we're fighting each other to cast what one needed more attention. The feeling of this all at the same time was putting me into stimulation overload.
"Fuck Harry...I—"
He gravely moans out from my words, tossing his head back and rocking this table vastly. It felt so good but it was so overwhelming, all my other bodily senses were shutting down. My brain was drawing all its focus to between my legs and the pit growing in me. It was coming on fast, my orgasm was approaching. His thumb was circling my clit at a moderate pace, but keeping a lot of pressure on it to cast a lot of electricity.
I try my hardest not to squirm like he said, but it was so tough when everything in your body was drawing all its focus to the pleasure. His thrusting picked up, this time adjusting from the low sharp one to faster. The erotic sounds of his skin slapping against mine became heard, I was sent into overdrive.
He was rocking so fast, the whole table shaking. I couldn't handle this much longer, the pressures along my stomach muscles taking over my every action.
I moan out in overwhelming pleasure that was almost at its peak. The orgasm in me building deeper than ever before, soon the attention to my clit will be too much and I'll be begging him to stop. My loins were burning up while my inner thighs started to jitter up on his body. I pinch my eyes shut against his command, not caring if he didn't like it.
"I'm gonna cum—" I whine out, sweating from head to toe and still gripping the sides of his shirt behind my legs.
"You're doing so good for me angel..." He actually appraises instead of scolding me for getting restless.
I whine a moan while he looses himself slowly, his hips rocking ruthlessly into mine while circling my clit like he wanted me to immerse in a very intense orgasm. He shakily moans out within his heavy breathing, his grip on my shoulder digging so hard into me I felt it would leave a history print.
"Aven fuck.." He mumbles a heavy cuss, his deep voice littered with pleasure.
My mind was casting a mirage of warm colours flicking like a slideshow, showing me how close I was to my peak of euphoric sensation. My stomach was jittering in stimulation, the crease of my inner thighs tingling like it would never stop. My chest was puffing up and down while I just couldn't keep quiet anymore. I was on overload, my lips were exuding all different kinds of whimper and stammers of his name. I know he was close too, his fast pace was becoming staggered and sloppy. His moans became more frequent, his grips on me getting more intense.
But then—I heard a snap and my body start tilting backward on the table.
I gasp out in total startle as Harry scooped under my back before I reached the ground I was falling too. My legs fell around his waist while I snap my hands on the back of his neck, my eyes widening as I was clung to him in thin air all the sudden. I heard a loud crash behind me.
Before I got to even turn my head and understand what the hell just happened, he throws me to the black rug between the couch and the table. Towering above me he grabs my hips and continues where we left off three seconds ago, not paying any attention to the fact something just happened.
I whine out but turn my head at the same time to see the coffee table broken, specifically the two skinny back legs snapped so the table was slanted into the air. I was in shock it was broken and he didn't care, his vicious rocking the thing that did it.
I turn my head back up and see him thrusting into me at the same quick pace, both of his hands on my hips with his head dropped. He was sitting on his knees and slightly hunched over me in the air, I was laying flat in the warm rug. We were tightly between the broken table and the couch, so immersed in the moment to even lift back onto the couch.
I cry out in pleasure as I felt my orgasm approaching strong, grabbing his inked biceps that were flexed in intensity. My legs were wrapped around his waist, my back having no control but to arch a bit.
"Fuck Aven I'm gonna cum—" He grunts, his eyes wired shut while a beam of sweat rolls down into his notched eyebrow. His shirt was wet around the collar from sweat, I didn't realize it until now. "You feel so good around me."
"Harry.." I whine through my heavy throat, moving to grab his hands that were locked around my hips.
It felt like my whole body was flashing red warning lights in a factory—loud sirens to show how I was in danger. The danger was euphoria and like usual I ignored the warning signs. I force my eyes open just so I could watch him during this, seeing how overwhelmed he also was. There must've been some internal signal that I was watching him, because suddenly he opens his eyes too so he could look at me.
Our heavy eyes met as we were both swallowing in pure pleasure, ready to give it together and maybe even at the same time. His cheeks were red beneath the stitches, viable skin blanketed in a sweaty sex glow. Looking at him only brought me quicker to my peak, and when I reached that unmistakeable build—it was game over.
My jaw drops as I felt the rise coming fast between my legs; making me breathe faster, think faster, exclaim faster. I cry out his name of mercy, my arch arching uncontrollably. I grip his hands hard to show my feelings of pure electricity, hoping to give him a spark too.
"Give it to me angel." He rasps in heavy breath.
His words were like magic, because I suddenly felt the wave of bliss roll up my body. I lifted my head as my breathing stopped for a second so I could value all my attention to the explosion demanding my undivided scrutiny. My airways turn to cement, my core pulsating warmth around him as my head filled with hot air. I sucked in a sharp breath of relief, tossing my head back down on the rug while the colours in my head flicked so fast now. My spine experienced the cold rush of an ice cube melting down it, my thighs jittering around him. There were no words that left my lips during the high, I was so caught up in my own head.
"Oh my god—" I shouted out.
Mixed with all of this craziness was still him thrusting fast into me, feeling my orgasm soak him. It gave him the fuel to finish off strong because he suddenly cussed out like he was on the brink too. My core was still pulsating around him in recovery.
His thrusting got sloppy and tired, despite my sudden exhaustion I moan out at the sensitivity. My eyelids were heavy but I had to time to rest them because of the sight in front of me.
"Please cum..." I whine, my body falling down to its low.
"Shit..baby—" he stumbles his words, loosing the rhythm.
He suddenly scoops his right arm under my hips, elevating them in the air while still keeping my shoulders on the floor. He grabs the couch behind my head with his other hand, my hips lined perfectly to his. He gave me less then ten really quick hard thrusts with me arched in the air. I cry out a moan at the angle that was so much to handle after my orgasm.
He groans out loud enough to make his throat shake from the inside, freezing his hips against mine with half my body in the air. Like me, he halted everything in him for a second. His breathing became interrupted, the vein on his neck bulging from his skin. He twitches inside of me, releasing his confines into the condom. He was death gripping the edge of the couch cushion behind and above my head, relinquishing in his orgasm.
He releases my hips so they feel back to the hot rug, his body curling over mine so his forehead crashes to my chest in total exhaustion. I breathe heavy with him, desperately needing air but hoping it wasn't enough for me to need my inhaler.
My hands tangled in the sweaty hair on the back of his head, his body still buried in mine. I shut my eyes for a second in pure exhaustion—amazed that just happened but also in total shock still.
He totally shut down, not making a sound besides the heavy panting between my rib cages. His forehead remained pressed into my chest cavity, his back hunched over my body while his large hands engulfed my sides.
We both were dead silent, just catching our breathes while laying on the floor between the couch and the broken table. The back of his shirt had sweat soaked into the fabric, he must've been overheating with that on this entire time.
"Angel, you're not a bottom..." He speaks tiredly into my chest. "You're a switch."
I could barely process his words, but it was enough to spread a small smile up my lips at his observation. I had no words to speak right now, I was so fricken exhausted.
He slowly pulls up and looks down at me again, his head heavy like the energy in him was gone. His skin was pale, lips dark as he breathes heavy. His hips slowly drift so he pulls out of me, looking down at himself to peel off the clear condom. I watch him hypnotically, his painted finger tips pulling the wet condom off his softening erection. Once it was off, he precisely tied the end in a knot so none of the matters would come out. I shut my eyes out of pure exhaustion while feeling him get up to go discard the latex.
I took this moment of peace to recover, hitting a dramatic low after that impeccable high. My legs were tingling still, mildly jittering at the work they just went through. When I felt hands run up my sides again, I open my eyes to see Harry sitting back between my legs.
"Want me to take you back to the hotel now?" He asks.
I furrow my brows, caught off guard while feeling a wave of discomfort wash over me. But before I was about to say anything in response, he smiles cheekily.
"Kidding." He teases. "But you're gonna have to sleep in my clothes until I can get your stuff delivered here tomorrow."
I grin at his cruel joke.
"I really thought you were just about to boot me." I cackle lazily in exhaustion, shutting my eyes.
"Mmm." He hums, scooping his arms underneath my body. I get lifted off the floor until I met the soft cushion of the couch again. I don't bother opening my eyes as he laid me on the wide couch gently. I felt him disappear again, but I didn't even bother question it.
My limbs felt like putty, I've never been so tired after sex and I use to ride all the way through. My mind was too cloudy on every position we did and how it all felt. I was completely engulfed in the aftermaths of my internal orgasm, on cloud nine.
Definitely the best sex I've ever had.
It was the type of sex I'll probably think about at the worst times; like in a line up for coffee or at some sort of public event. It's the type that one flashback to it will make me ache between the legs. I've really been missing out on how great sex could be, I have a better understanding why he's a borderline addict to it.
But besides the physical pleasures that left me shaking, the emotional aspect of it was a big part of it for me. The position where we were kissing while slowing everything down was one of my favourite parts. Slowly grinding my hips while we passionately made out for a second, it was an added touch I know was new for the both of us. I know he doesn't kiss other women, so it made me feel warm.
I felt his presence again, this time I forced my eyes open. Looking up I saw him standing there in a fresh shirt and boxers, sucker sticking out of his mouth while holding a pile of folded clothes for me. It was darker in here all the sudden, he must've turned off the lights. The only way I could see him was from the glow of the pool on the other side of the glass.
I tiredly sit up, forgetting I was still naked. He kneels down on the ground in front of me, putting the clean clothes next to me on the couch. He grabs the large band shirt I couldn't bother reading the name of, bunching it up to the neck hole so he can put it over my head. Shutting my eyes again, he shoves my head through the hole and snakes my flimsy arms through the sides. I was like a rag doll to him, I couldn't help it.
"You're tired baby." He murmurs in observation, scent of a cherry sucker around us when he spoke.
I hum a yes, my head down and my eyes closed. He finishes getting the loose shirt on that smells like him, untucking my wavy hair. Shortly after I felt soft material at me feet, sliding something up my legs.
"The track pants were too big for you last time so I got you a pair of my boxers." He explains, jostling me around a bit so he can get them under my ass on the couch.
My lips curl to a smile as I felt the band around my waist, completely covered now. He tilts me back so I lay down on the soft cough, balling my knees to my stomach. I couldn't believe I was this tired.
"Harry..." I whisper with my eyes shut.
"Mhmm." He hums.
"Can you lay here with me?" I mumble in tired neediness. It was a totally clingy girl move after sex, but I couldn't help it. For some reason I just really want to lay with him.
"I can take you upstairs, Av." He states.
I shook my head no for some odd reason of pure exhaustion, not thinking of moving anywhere right now. I just wanted to say here on this couch that was very warm.
I hear him sigh to himself and get on the couch, crawling up into the space behind me. Laying on his side I feel his body head against my back, the smell of cherry following him.
I then heard the sound of the television, making me open one of my eyes to see the bright screen across the room turning on. Over my hip I perceive a remote in his hand, pressing buttons. He clicks through until landing on an old rerun of I Love Lucy.
I furrow my brows at the show choice, I've only ever watched a few episodes because of my grandmother. It's a black and white sitcom from the fifties about this housewife named Lucy trying to get into show business.
I tilt my head back to him behind me, one eye opened with a confused look on my face. He was laying pressed to me on his side, resting his head up on his propped elbow with the sucker in his mouth. His eyes trace down to mine, seeing my questioning look.
"I sometimes need quiet noise to fall asleep." He speaks through the candy.
"And I Love Lucy is your top pick?" I find it a little funny.
"I like old television shows." He shrugs. "And I Love Lucy is a classic."
The things I learn about you everyday, Harry Styles.
I grin and turn my head back away from him. His chest pressed against my back, his knee comes up to stick between my legs. I smile and lean back into him a little more, his hand falling to my hip.
I peer down at his thigh resting between mine, immediately seeing the tattoo again just above his knee. This time it wasn't upside down to me, but the writing was sloppy and the room wasn't very lit in order for me to really read what it said. With just one eye open, I tried to focus on what the scribbled writing was. The light from the television helped a bit, but I was so tired that my eyes were incredibly lazy.
After discreetly focusing for a couple minutes, my eyes finally fathomed what the sloppy tattooed words say...
it should've been me.
//
that was the longest chapter I've never written and it was smut. I'm gonna go cry now.