Lust, Lies, and Forbidden Ties ✵ h.s.

✵ thirty-six ✵ *

     The moment we stepped out of the car, I could feel my nerves building. Even with all of the talk at the beginning of the ride here, I was still shaking with the idea of what we would do once we were inside. My body was ready to feel his against mine, but I was also terrified. He was so powerful in every sense of the word, and there were so many women and men who had probably wanted to be in my position that I almost felt as if I wasn't worthy enough. Harry was carrying my backpack again over his shoulder, my hand grasping his tightly as we headed inside. He let me press the elevator button, his eyes meeting mine briefly before I looked away. Honestly, I couldn't tell if I was nervous simply because the man beside me was so important, or if it was because I was also very sexually aroused, and was worried he wouldn't like me if I made a mess afterward.

"I don't bite," he teased as we stood in the elevator quietly. "Or, let me rephrase. I don't bite that hard."

It made me smile. "I'm just nervous, that's all."

"Nervous? Finley, I'll take care of you. And we don't even have to be undressed."

"I know."

"Then there is absolutely nothing to be nervous about, angel."

Honestly, I knew it wasn't that simple, but it was very sweet of him to say what he had. It wasn't until we were standing in front of his door that he had me let go of his hand for a minute, Harry unlocking it quickly. I stepped inside his home, watching as he flicked on the lights before shutting the door, and then locking it right behind us. We headed to his bedroom, Harry setting my backpack down before I did the same with my bag.

"So, are you more of a drink a little something before we get to it type of girl, or would you—"

Before he could finish his words, I was cupping his cheeks, my lips pressing to his. I knew I was incredibly nervous, so the longer we pushed this off, the longer it would give me to rethink my actions. Harry very quickly realized what type of girl I was, his hands cupping the back of my thighs. My legs were pulled around his waist, and I continued kissing him, grunting softly when he pulled away from me. I didn't understand why, but suddenly my back was hitting the mattress, and I knew he had wanted to watch where he was going. "Off, off," I muttered against him, trying to get his suit jacket off of him.

"Less clothes."

Harry agreed, the man allowing me to kiss his warm skin as he tugged off his jacket. It was followed by Harry taking over, his lips finding mine, and I could feel just how needy he was. Everything about our kissing was sloppy, and animalistic in the sense that we both had clearly wanted this for a while, but were both too shy. Or, maybe not shy, but not willing to push for it to happen. As I unbuttoned his shirt, Harry pressed his tongue into my mouth, one of his hands squeezing my left breast while the other held onto my thigh tightly. I moaned against his lips, the feeling of him touching me more euphoric than anything I had ever endured.

"Fuck," he muttered when he pulled away, the two of us panting. "You're so fucking hot."

"You," I mumbled, shoving the material of his shirt off his broad shoulders. "You're hot."

We went back to kissing once again, my fingers playing with his curls. I couldn't get rid of the fluttering butterflies in my stomach, or the very obvious feeling between my thighs. It was saying how much I wanted Harry, and while I knew exactly what we were planning on doing, there was the smallest part of me that wanted him fully. I wanted to feel him in the most vulnerable way that I could, but I knew it was just the part of me that hadn't had sex for years making an appearance.

"I want you on top," he muttered when he pulled away, leaving wet kisses all along my throat. "I want ... you to ... grind on ... Daddy."

"Okay."