Evelyn Brown, a twenty-seven year old trying to get her foot in the door to establish her dream as a photographer. Her mind is plagued by the ghosts of her past - consumed with the reminders of her sins.
Everyday is a constant battle, until she mee...
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Our lips brush against one another once more, and all that is heard is our breathing. Bringing a hand to the back of his neck, I brush my nails against his skin. His body shudders against me, and with the moonlight cascading into the room, I notice how dilated his pupils are- filled with need and want.
I press my lips against his, a soft hum falling from his lips as he melts into me, gripping my thigh and hoisting it onto his hip. I take this opportunity to move myself onto his lap, straddling his waist.
He grips onto my hips, but I grab his hands, pinning them to the pillow either side of his head with my own. Intertwining our fingers, Harry smiles up at me with adoration on his features. Still not mentioning the hand holding, he melts into the bed and lifts his chin slightly in anticipation for my next move.
"What are you going to be for me?" I smile down at him, pressing my hips down against him.
As I grind down against him slowly, I feel his length start to harden against me. "Fuck." He whispers, closing his eyes briefly as he swallows.
"I'm going to be your good boy." He opens his eyes again, biting his lip softly and pushing his hips up against me slightly.
"Very good." I whisper, "and in return I'll give you the best distraction." I press my lips against his again, squeezing his hands gently.
"I'll take care of you, baby." I smile.
"Kiss me again?" He puckers his lips slightly, and I giggle at how cute this grown ass man can be at times.
He completely lets his guard down at times like this, and becomes the most vulnerable version of himself. He thrives on being taken care of, being told what to do - submitting. For someone who's never done this thing before, he's become extremely open to accepting this side of himself.
I lean down, brushing my lips against his. It's like second nature to him to lean up, trying to connect our lips. His mouth parts slightly, but I pull away with a grin.
"What do you say?" I whisper.
"Please." He whines softly, "please kiss me."
"So polite to me." I lean down, pressing my lips against his as well as grinding my hips down against his length.
His jaw drops, a soft breathy moan escaping his lips as he attempts to kiss me back. His hands squeeze mine, his body tensing as I move against him.
"Thought you wanted to kiss me?" I hum with a grin, continuing to move my clothed centre along his length. Small bouts of pleasure ripple through me with every movement.
The corner of his lips quirk upwards in a breathy chuckle. "I'm trying." He breathes out, squeezing my hands again.
I start to feel a little overwhelmed with holding his hands directly, so I let go, sitting up straighter. I run my hands over his chest, his rapid heart hammering against my palms, soothing my anxiety.
