Aurora | H.S.

9. lights out*

Warning: explicit content.
Also, this is very long-enjoy!

With Harry's help, him and I managed to light a few candles in the living room. The orange flames make the room glow. The moment wind pushes in from the now open window, the flames dance along the wall, creating what looks like an unstable environment.

Harry settled on the couch as I move away from the window. It's only raining a little now so I felt opening the windows would suffice for the air conditions no longer being on. Either way, humidity pours in and makes my skin feel slick, my hair sticking to the back of my neck.

In the glow of the candles, Harry looks almost devious. The only reason I walk to him is that I know he is welcoming despite the black orbs that trail up my body, his head lifting to cover more skin. I swallow hard, straddling over his lap. Maybe it's the heat that's made me feel bold, maybe it's the red wine, or maybe it's both mixed with the fact that I crave him not just on my skin, but under.

My hands drag up his warm t-shirt, taking in the toned muscles beneath, while his hands cradle my bum giving me a rough squeeze. In all my life, I've never had intimacy surge out of my body—practically pouring from my veins.

Harry's eyes drifted from my chest back up to my own, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. When our lips met, he tasted like wine. While our tongues roll together, the heat and energy between us is practically palpable.

I pressed my warm forehead to his, feeling a few beads of sweat dripping down my back now. Harry kissed the corner of my mouth, pulling me close to get a kiss on my jawline then my neck. I felt lazy and intoxicated, but with each kiss that laziness faded and I wanted more control. Not only was my skin marks by his fingerprints, but now his lips—everything I've wanted for so long.

My hips rocked slowly on him, both of us gasping at the building friction. Harry's eyes fluttered shut, closing off the black orbs that make my heart skip. The slickness in my panties grew more and more. . .

"Look at me," I whispered, pleadingly.

Harry's eyes opened, green flecks glowing in the candlelight. His hands dragged back to my thighs before unbuttoning my jeans. My hips came to a halt, our breathing out of sync—mine louder. He tugged at the hem of my shirt, the fabric left in a puddle on the floor followed by his shirt.

Seeing his chest on fully display made in ache in places that haven't been explored by another man in ages. Admittedly, I've done just fine on my own. But I want him. I need him.

His hands gently grabbed my breasts, giving them a not so familiar squeeze. He was harsher now, his breath audibly hitching in the back of his throat as I leaned forward and allowed him to nestle his face between them. He sucked at the exposed skin. Then his tongue dragged a bold stripe across one of my swells while his hand set on my lower back, attempting to steady me as I threw my head back and moaned.

"Are you sure you want this?"

I looked down at him, surprised by the calmness in his voice. I kept my breasts aligned with his face, knowing that losing confidence would make him question me again. I'm positive that I want more from this man than his cock, but for now it's all I need.

With a simple tug my bra came undone by his fingers. I tossed it to the side, biting down on my lip as the arousal in Harry's eyes seemed to explode. He lifted me suddenly, hands holding my thighs as he turned towards the hallway.

"Bedroom?"

"Last door on left," I replied breathlessly.

Our tongues met again, his swollen lips pushing against mine until my back hit my mattress. The moonlight puddles over us from the open window—the only light source in this room. Harry stands at the end of the bed now, staring down at me as he undoes his belt. The metal clinking has my breathing louder and far heavier as if I've run a mile.