Vigilante | H.S.

28 | Rainberry

Waking up in someone else's home was always quite strange, I felt out of place.

I could tell it was around 9am because of the light coming in from underneath the giant floor length curtains. I could smell the scent I was now beginning to appreciate more and more.

I still felt overwhelmed by the amazing orgasm he gave me last night. I had to squeeze my thighs together just thinking about it. He made me feel an intense pleasure I had never felt before.I never knew things like that could feel so good, I'd had sex numerous times, but it had never been just about me, or if I was enjoying it. It was always just a way for him to feel good and have his fun.

I don't think I ever actually enjoyed sex with him. I didn't matter to him, it was like I was an object that he used to make himself feel good.

And the few times he ever tried to make me feel good, and I'd whip out another amazing performance of faking everything, he would always want something in return.

That's why I was so confused, Harry never asked for anything in return.

And he actually asked me if I wanted it, I'd literally never been asked before.

It wasn't like I had said no, but James had always assumed my answer was yes, and half of the time it wasn't, but I was too scared of him to say anything.

And it was also dark in his room, I managed to sleep in the dark, which I have been able to do in a while.

I needed to get up to go use Harry's toilet through the door on the other side of the room.

However, I couldn't move.

I was trapped.

Trapped beneath a large muscular tattoo covered body; Harry was completely on top of me, his head rested on my stomach, squished between my boobs and I just had the slightest feeling that his head placement wasn't an accident.

His breathing was calm, slow. I could feel the slow steady rhythm of his chest rising and falling on top of my own, occasional quiet snores. His soft brown curls were spread across my body.

He looked so relaxed, the crease between his eyebrows wasn't there, the typical angry look on his face was gone. I knew I had seen him asleep before, but it was still strange to me, seeing him not look like he was pissed off at everyone and everything.

Who would have thought he was such a cuddler?

I bit the inside of my cheek and looked up at the ceiling. I could feel the smile growing on my face as I tried my hardest not to giggle at the sight of the terribly intimidating man curled up on my stomach like a puppy.

I hardly even remembered leaving the balcony and I definitely did not remember going up to his bedroom, or falling asleep in his bed.

I managed to recollect myself and look back down at him without giggling.

His hair looked like it had been tied in a bun, but the hair tie had fallen out and was laying on me next to his long hair which was sprawled out across my shoulder. I could see the hairs on his head moving slightly each time I took a breath.

I noticed that I was wearing a shirt, which smelt like him. My stomach warmed at the scent, and the fact that I knew I hadn't put it on myself, meaning he was good enough to cover me up.

I brought my hand up from beside my and started twirling my fingers in the curls at the end of his hair.

I didn't understand what was happening with me and Harry.

At first, I'd tried my hardest to avoid him, and ignore him completely despite his countless attempts to try and get me to do something more with him. And then he took over my brain, he occupied every thought I had all day every day. I told myself that the way I was feeling was only because of the gallery, and the time he took me home on New Year.