Matching Rings [h.s]

79

POV: BAYLIN GRIGGS

It's well past midnight now and I'm still voluntarily stuck in this office with Harry's hands all over me and his tongue down my throat.

The party downstairs is far from over, but I am definitely over it. And I know Harry is too. The muffled sounds coming from behind the door have just become annoying, it's keeping me from hearing the small moans that escape Harry's lips when he accidentally pressed our hips a little too rough together.

He has me sat on the desk, which isn't very tall so I'm still much shorter than he is. He has to lean down just to kiss me, both his hands are flat on the desk next to my hips while there is an arch in his back for ducking down.

He's between my legs, purposely keeping me at the edge so that my core would be right up against him. Each time he pushes forward, the throbbing between my legs grows louder.

"I can't ever get enough of you." He stops kissing me to say, "I missed kissing you."

I genuinely smile. I had almost forgotten how great it feels to kiss him, especially now with more emotion than ever because I love him— and now those aren't just thoughts in my head but it's real because he knows I love him.

He leans back in like he cannot physically wait to get his lips back on mine. He breaks off for only a second, "You have no fucking-" immediately moving back in, "idea how much-" kissing me again, "I missed all this, you."

This time when he goes back in, he dives straight for my neck. Muscle memory makes him straight to where he knows I like it, just under my ear in the spot I keep reserved for him and only him.

I don't have to reply for him to know that I've missed him too, my body language and the way I'm wrapping my arms around his neck to tangle my fingers in his curls was enough to tell him on its own.

My skin is wet from his sloppy kisses, each kiss making the happy butterflies in my stomach flutter faster and harder. But these butterflies are different, it's not from being nervous, it's from the intense amount of emotion in my body for how much I love this man.

The loose skirt part of my black dress is pooled on the desktop, my ass is touching the cold wood but nothing else seems to matter other than where Harry seems to be placing his hands.

Harry slides both his hands to my knees, and while one is slowly sliding up my leg and under the front hem of my dress, the other is sliding back towards my ass.

Things are moving so fast, yet so slow at the same time.

"Missed your skin." He muffles, softly squeezing the meatier part on my thigh where my hip meets my leg.

"Missed your perfume." He plants a soft single kiss on my neck, taking in my scent.

"Missed these." He brings his right hand up, left still occupied on my ass, with two fingers he traces over my lips slowly.

First his eyes lock on my lips, mine on his. Then he's moving in closer and replacing his fingers with his swollen red lips. I kiss him back, sensual and slow.

Harry takes my bottom lip between his teeth, shyly biting down until I feel the slightest of a pinch, then pulling his head back and allowing my bottom lip to bounce back to its resting place.

He stares at me close for a moment, breathing hard with heavy eyes. A tired and parted lipped smile painted his smirk, his adored dimple peeking through.

Moving his right hand to match his left, he places it on the other side of my ass. Keeping a newly tight grip on it, kneeding it softly to make a pleasured moan escape my lips.