Layla
The water is warm and comforting in the best possible way as it rolls off our skin and onto the shower floor in droplets. His mouth finds home in the crook of my neck, trailing to my chest to tend and cherish every inch. His name is said multiple times as he teases and taunts me for what feels like a lifetime, causing my toes to curl as I lean back against the wall. When I plead for him to finally have his way with me, he denies such a thing, wanting the beautiful moment to last forever. He kisses me more and more, harder and harder as he spreads me open, wanting that communication to be known that this night isn't over yet. I hear him loud and clear as he discovers me like a best selling novel, leaving small marks on my skin with his decadent mouth. It's absolutely euphoric, glancing down, witnessing him on his knees as he tends to me and only me entirely. I almost fall at the very sight as his glistening eyes filled with desire look into my own. I have to shut them briefly, the temptation far too evident and difficult to resist.
"Don't you do that little darling," he whispers into my ear, brushing his lips against my own. He places both arms on either side of me, resting against the wall.
"Please Harry, you're teasing me too much," I say, exhaling out, lacing my fingertips in his head of wet curls. Water streams down his face, washing away any evidence of the day before, allowing inked art to still remain on his bronzed skin.
"Thought you were enjoying yourself?" he asks in return, slipping a hand between my legs, causing a soft gasp to escape. He hasn't touched me in so, so long. Not truly. We've had family come and go for weeks, forcing us to keep our passion to a bare minimum. Maybe a kiss here and there, but nothing more. Nothing has been the same ever since he returned from the West coast. But this is New York, this is our city, our home that we've created together. I love, adore, and miss him so greatly it consumes every thought, every rational idea ever known. I suppose that's why they say true love can be so dangerous.
I taste the water on his lips as I lean into him, wanting more, needing more. Yet, as he keeps the distance, I groan into his mouth, giving him a frustrated look in return. "I want you, please."
"I know, I'm just not finished tasting you yet," he says, going back on his knees to finish a diligent work. My entire body begins to tremble and tingle as the minutes carry on into the cold January night. He's given me sweet ecstasy twice and I haven't even really had him yet. I'm breathless, panting as he lifts me up in his arms, allowing my legs to wrap softly and weakly around his waist. He decreases the distance, kissing me yet again, looking into my eyes. "I love you, so, so much," he says.
"I love you Harry, you know that."
He smiles happily, removing whatever distance may remain as he connects us in the truest and best form possible. We're vulnerable with one another, not containing enough strength to last as long as we'd like. After all, it's been so long since we've been in such a state of passion. He's not too gentle with me as he consumes me wholeheartedly, indulging in the magnificent sensation. His heart is pounding, absolutely pounding more and more as he too, goes faster and faster. I welcome it, welcome him as my lips are surely swollen from the number of gifts we've taken from one another. It'll never be enough, not entirely. I press my nails into the curve of his back, needing an anchor to remain steady and over water. I need him to keep me safe if I never wish to drown. He's so close, I can feel it, I can see it in his eyes as he connects our lips together, wanting to adore me until the very end. He's stronger than I am as I reach honey bliss first, holding onto him as a burst of lights are seen in my line of vision. He follows shortly after, trembling in a quick fit as he buries his face into the crook of my neck. And I swear, in the mix of the droplets of water, I feel his tears on my skin.
The night is young and clearly, not wishing to be over. I rest in one of his shirts and a pair of lounge bottoms, curling up within the warm sheets. He climbs in once he's all dry, resting his head on my chest as Sugar jumps up into the bed to join us. She dashes for Harry of course, leaving me in the dust as he chuckles in response, petting her head in delight.
"See, you're her favorite and you know it too," I say.
"Are you actually jealous Layla James?"
"Oh, please. Don't start with me again. We've had this conversation before. She goes to you for some loving and she comes to me for treats. Fair is fair."
"It's because I give the best type of loving."
"Yeah, sure, that's it."
"You weren't arguing with me earlier. Hmm? Remember what happened less than five minutes ago in the shower?"
I brush him off, rolling to my side to sit up on the bed. He isn't finished with this conversation, holding a certain playfulness as he reaches me. He smells of the rose and lavender body wash in my shower, a smell I've grown to love even more when it sits upon his flawless skin. I pretend I don't remember prior events, shrugging my shoulders, squealing instantly as he pins me down upon the bed, giving me little bird kisses all over my face.
"No, stop it!"
Sugar begins to lick my face as well as I struggle to get free. He lifts up the ends of my shirt, pressing his warm mouth onto my damp skin, causing me to squirm even more at such a marvelous and magical sensation. "I know you're ticklish. I know your weaknesses little darling, you can't mess with me," he says, venturing up higher and higher to tend between both my breasts.
"How can you possibly have any more energy?" I ask, gasping as he takes me in between his lips.
He gives the nip of my breasts a good taste, proceeding to go forth with the other before he speaks. "I may have had a shot of espresso before dinner."
"Why, did you actually think you were going to get lucky with me? Hmm?"
He rolls his eyes, he actually rolls his eyes, causing my eagerness to get him back to increase as I struggle to get free from his strong grip. "Little darling, every moment with you is lucky. Don't be mad now that you're not as clever as me."
"You mean more like annoying, rather than clever."
"What was that?"
"Nothing."
He bites down on my skin ever so gently, causing me to release a fit of laughter, pleading for him to stop as a mix of pleasure begins to get involved. "You're in trouble baby, so, so much trouble. Time for you to get some of that good loving."
"Please, don't refer to it as that."
"You're not exactly in a position to argue. I have you all pinned down, I could enjoy you so much Frank the doorman could have some questions."
"Don't bring Frank into this, please Harry. You're ridiculous."
He scrunches his nose together, chuckling a bit in response. "You're right, let's forget about that."
"Kind of difficult now."
"I think I can be of help," he says, providing myself with a proper and special kiss, tasting of all good things summer has to offer in the middle of January. I enjoy myself, forgetting about everything and anything as I take control, hovering about his body as I straddle his waist. I keep the kiss going, realizing that I too, want more. I crave more. This moment can't end here. However, the sudden ring and buzzing of a phone on the end table, does just that. It ruins the moment. We're both startled, groaning as he reaches for it, frowning as he sees the person responsible. I remain on top of him, holding onto his thighs for support, not knowing who is at fault for such an unhappy response. He doesn't answer the call, sending it straight to voicemail. Yet, before I can ask him who it is, he asks to be left alone, walking out of the bedroom. I remain in place, confused and dumbfounded at what exactly just happened. Sugar feels the same way, looking back and forth between me and the door he just exited.
I hear him return the call in the living room, carrying on the conversation at the other side of the apartment, not giving any the opportunity to listen. I don't mind, never being the type to eavesdrop on other people's conversations, yet he's never really been the type for secrecy. He's always taken every and any call in front of me, not caring for me to hear because he always referred to us as the dream team. Ever since returning from Cannes and our unbeatable reunion, we promised to keep any secrets off the table. They're the key to breaking any good relationship and we didn't want to take any chances. We would be honest, open, and vulnerable with one another, allowing us to fall if only into each other's arms. So, it baffles me to see him like this as I know this isn't a phone conversation he wished to keep. After a few minutes, I decide to venture out into the kitchen for a snack, considering we didn't eat most of our dinner back at the restaurant. I grab a bowl of leftover fruit salad, pouring some into a plate, tasting the strawberry flavor on my mouth as the man who is the epitome of such a berry arrives. He's upset, that's very clear as he wipes away the anger from his face, forcing a timid and reserved smile. That smile, is not a true smile, not from him. If he granted that smile to a stranger, they wouldn't know the difference. They would be joyous for such a moment. But, I know. I know the truth. That's a false and saddened smile. And unfortunately, I don't think I'm ready to know the reason behind it.