Envy Me [h.s]

sweet

warning: lactation kink

Harry's POV:

"This one?" I asked, holding a hanger with a lavender satin dress.

"The zipper doesn't go up."

"What about this one?" I ask once again, now with a brown velvet dress. We're running out of options here.

"Too tight on my belly. If I sit down, it's going to rip," she says, sitting back on the bed and playing with her rings. "I'll just stay home."

Dramatic.

"We still have time. We can keep looking. I'm pretty sure you have something hiding in there," I say, leaning on the closet door frame.

"I think it's time to take your offer of going shopping for new clothes," she smiles, and I walk over to her, leaning in and kissing her lips. She's quick at letting my tongue in. I keep bending over until she's lying down on the bed.

Her legs wrap around my back, and she moans when she pushes my hips against hers, "someone's needy," I tease. "Come on, you still have nothing to wear, and you only have twenty minutes," I say, getting up and she whimpers.

After looking and looking and more looking, she finally found a white satin long-sleeve dress. After putting it on, I kneel and help her put on her heels. "You look incredible," I praised her, kissing her knee, then her thigh. I look up. "I'll never get enough of you."

-

"Are you sure my shoes are in the car? I won't make it throughout the night with these," she said, pointing at her high heels. "Did you really check that they're in the car?"

I can't even blame pregnancy hormones for her attitude because it's always like this whenever we go out.

Harry, did you bring this?

Harry, don't forget that.

Harry, this.

Harry, that.

"Yes. I checked twice already. They're there."

"Are you sure?"

My eye is about to start twitching.

"Yes, baby. I am a hundred percent sure they're in the car."

And just like she fucking thought, her shoes were indeed not in the car.

I'm never hearing the end of this.

"You said you checked."

"Because I did. They were there yesterday when I checked."

"Yesterday? Really?"

I'm not even apologizing because if she hears an I'm sorry coming out of my mouth, she'll slap me.

"We can go home if you want," I suggest, my words coming out almost as a whisper.

She laughs, and even though she looks like she finds this whole situation funny, I know for a fact she's ready to rip my head off.

I swear, next time we're adopting.

She takes a moment to answer, taking a sip of her drink. "It's fine," she says, resting her hand on my thigh.

I'm in hell.

Throughout the entire night, she's been teasing me. Her hand is close to places I don't need it to be. Kissing my neck, playing footsies like a fucking teenager, whispering the dirtiest things that come to her mind in my ear.