Under Pressure {H.S}

Chapter 60

Harry's POV:

"Don't move," I instruct her, making her stop in her tracks.

"What is it?" she asks as I approach her with slow, calculated steps.

I stare at her mouth the whole time. When I reach her, I bring my thumb to her perfect cherry-red lips, dragging my thumb across her bottom lip. Her blue doe eyes stare up at me, wide and dilated.

"You have something..." I trail off, dipping my head down to hers and holding her jaw with my free hand. She smiles into the soft, slow kiss, and the world disappears around us.

This woman is the love of my life. She owns my heart. She possesses my heart. My chest tightens every time she looks at me. My entire existence was created for her. For me to be here for her. One could consider me sacrilegious because I would worship her over any god.

"Harry," she whispers against my lips, bringing me back to earth.

I look down at her with a smile. "Yeah?"

"You have lipstick on your face," she giggles, her thumb immediately wiping at my mouth.

I feel my dimples indenting on my cheeks. "What if I want it there?"

She continues to smile. "We're going out in public with all of our friends. You can't get papped with lipstick all over you."

"Yes I can," I argue. "C'mon. Mark me, baby."

Her cheeks turn rosy. I smirk at her reaction. Her eyes scan mine with the intention to detect a lie. She realizes I'm being serious and giggles.

"Here," she starts, her hands going to the top buttons of my dress shirt. "I don't know why you buttoned these," she mutters under her breath, still smiling.

I look at her fingertips as they unbutton my shirt. "So I could watch you unbutton it. Knew you'd hate it buttoned all the way," I give her a lopsided smile.

She shakes her head with a giggle and unbuttons my shirt so it's open until just above my butterfly tattoo. I shiver when her fingertips brush over my bare skin, and she smiles at my reaction.

Then, she pushes the material so she has full access to my collar bone. She reaches into her purse and pulls out her red lipstick, applying some more. Once she's done, she leans down and presses her lips to my collarbone, and I try not to lose it. She pulls back with a smile, pleased with her work.

She grabs her phone and at first I don't know what she's doing. Then, her flash turns on as she captures a picture of the lipstick stain on my skin.

She puts my shirt back in place and smiles. "See? Now it's there but no one can see it."

I shake my head. "That defeats the purpose."

Her lips form a line in thought. "Fine."

She then cups my jaw with her hand, and I tilt my head back so she has access to my neck. She presses another kiss to just below my jawline, by my ear. I can't see it, but I already love knowing it's there.

"I wanna see it," I complain.

She rolls her eyes and opens my shirt before taking another picture. When she shows me the result on her phone, I grin.

It's a picture of me smirking, her red-painted nails holding my shirt open. Red marks from her lips on my collarbone and neck. I think it might be my favorite picture of myself.

"Pleased?" she asks.

I nod. "Very." I lean down and kiss her again.

"Harry!" she scolds me. "You're gonna have lipstick all over you."