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a/n: it's smut time my friends.

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"Touch has a memory." -John Keats

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Harry pushed his tall body against mine, losing any empty space that was between us. My hands went to his shoulders, sliding under his dress shirt and jacket to feel his hot bare skin under his layers of fabric.

Our lips moved together, caressing and sticking to each other like glue. His kiss felt that much better after the day we had today. He was vulnerable again, allowing me to bring him somewhere meaningful to me.

He was right, it kind of was a date

I don't know what we are right now, or what's going to happen. But right now, I want him more than I've wanted him in our past rendezvous we've experienced together. Just the thought of what could unfold after this moment was mouth watering.

I felt Harry's knee snake in between my trembling legs, keeping me in one position as his hand tightened on the perfect spots around my neck to send me into a euphoric head rush.

I panted into the kiss, feeling into the pleasure I haven't felt in months. Harry smirked as my open mouth was an invitation for him to slip his tongue in between my lips to dance with mine.

I kissed his back urgently, finally settling into the familiar feeling. My hands gripped his bare shoulder under his clothing, feeling his bones as my nails dug into his quickly perspiring skin.

Harry quickly let go of my neck and pulled away from the kiss. He backed away, leaving me leant against the door in need of support. I started to pant as I opened my eyes to see him ripping his jacket off.

"Are you sure you're ready princess?" Harry asked seductively as he slowly unbuttoned his white blouse.

"Hit me with your worst." I panted out, trying to calm my excitement. His enticing slow movements were so tantalizing.

I roamed my eyes down his chest, smiling at the innocent butterfly tattoo before texturizing his abs with just my eyes. He was perfect, chiseled to absolute beauty.

"Well, then. Are you going to listen to me?" Harry started to walk slowly towards me with his emerald eyes darker than night.

"No promises." I whispered, meeting him halfway and planting my hands to his exposed chest.

Harry took my wrist and spun me around, pinning me against him. One of his hands moved to my back and slowly pulled down the zipper of my dress. I felt the material slowly loosen around my body until it was no longer on.

He whipped me back around and stared down at my now exposed chest. My tan strapless bra was the only thing holding up my chest, while my lace black pantys were covering my most valuable possession.

I had my garder around my thigh, strapped tightly with the knife still holding in it. Harry's hands slowly wandered down my exposed body until it hit my garter. He carefully undid the bow and slipped the knife out from it.

Harry held the knife between us, making my eyes widen slightly. I wasn't scared, I wasn't shocked, it was more of an exciting thing. The danger of a knife during sex was also so intriguing to me. I just never had the guts to ask to try it.

But it seems like I don't need to ask

"This will only be of use if you don't listen." Harry stuffed the knife into my bra, leaving it there to stick out.

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