earned it [h.s.]

48. (*)

Genevieve.

Waking up, tangled in Harry's arms with the ocean crashing in the background, was like waking up in one of my dreams.

I blinked my eyes open to see the soft morning sun shining through the crack in the curtain. The white sheets around us were bundled around our bodies. Harry was pressed to me, somewhere in the night we had gone from me spooning him to him spooning me.

One arm was lazily draped below my head, his fingers gripping the pillow I was sleeping on while his other arm was wrapped around my waist with his hand right below my breast. I felt his warm puffs of air against the back of my neck and suddenly realized how used I had gotten to sleeping with him.

Before Harry, no one had ever stayed the night in my apartment. Now I felt lonely there.

Before Harry, I spent my nights with men who never learned my real name and who usually ditched me once the sex was over. I didn't mind being kicked out of their rooms to sleep by myself either in another room in the house, on their couch or if I felt like it, I went to my own apartment.

And here we were, only taking up about one fourth of the mattress as Harry favoured clinging to me instead of using the space the large bed provided us with.

I let out a few sighs, unfamiliar with the feeling of waking up so... carefree.

I didn't have a single thought in my mind, nothing to worry about, nothing to hurry for, no appointments or places I had to be. I was melted into the bedding with Harry snoring into my neck as I wiggled around a little in his grip. Harry shifted, rolling more onto his back with his arm slipping off of me.

I shifted around and tucked my head into his chest, tracing my fingers over the lines of his abs as Harry continued sleeping. He looked just as carefree as me, and I puckered a kiss into his chest before placing another more onto his shoulder.

I didn't know what time it was, and my body was still tired. Not exactly tired, just... lazy. Somewhere during the night, Harry had slipped off my underwear. I had been half asleep while feeling his fingers on me, cupping my ass and trailing over my inner thighs, but then he fell back asleep himself. The point was that both of us were fully naked.

I kissed his chest a little more, flipping my hair over one side to get it out of the way as I anchored my leg over his hips to roll more on top of him.

I could feel Harry faintly stiffening before I pressed a kiss to his sternum and he relaxed again. Me being on top would probably always freak him out a little bit at first, but he had looked at me with wonder in his eyes when I rode him last night, for the first time.

It was him taking steps towards healing.

Honestly, taking him in that position felt incredible. It was true that my orgasms hit me harder when I was on top, it was just something about the curve and how deep I could feel him. But sex with Harry was amazing either way. I had never understood the hype about sleeping with someone you had feelings for and how it just amplified everything, but the people who said that were definitely right.

Harry and I weren't doing anything that was very out of the ordinary for me, sexually. I was expanding my limits with how I trusted him, and how we communicated. It was unfamiliar for me to be with someone who asked me what I wanted and what I liked, and took that into consideration. I wasn't just a body for Harry to use, he got off on getting me off. He wanted me to enjoy it, he wanted me to scream and cum over and over, and I had never been with someone like that. Who put my pleasure before theirs.

Harry was definitely a giver, and Blair had no fucking clue what she was missing out on.

Talking to Harry last night had made a weight drop off my shoulders. I had some worries about our future, but he had listened to me and reassured me. I felt calmer now, but there was just still a small part of me who felt like this was all too good to be true and that they were just words.