The Deal

The Spilled Sugar

Rough, desperate, angry... A lust so overpowering it's almost animalistic.

There is nothing gentle in the way his hands grip the flesh of my thighs, forceful enough to leave marks in the shape of his fingers. There is nothing soft in the way he kisses the tender skin of my neck, his lips urgent and his teeth sharp enough to leave a bruise there too.

Harry is anything but a gentle lover, and I am anything but submissive.

There is a constant push and pull in our fucking; he picks me up and slams me against the wall and I literally rip the shirt off his chest, buttons clattering on the hardwood. He nips at my neck and I scratch my nails down his back. He groans into my bare breasts and I moan in his ear.

Both equal in passion, in fervor.

We are usually worthy adversaries for each other. But, I'm suddenly finding it hard to keep up.

Harry is anything but a gentle lover, but tonight, he is primal.

"So fucking sexy," He moans, soft lips traveling across my chest and kissing every bit of skin until he arrives at his destination and nips at my nipple, "I'm going to fuck you right here, right in this dolly."

My face is hot and my skin is tingling, my legs shaking from around his waist and we've barely even begun.

I hadn't expected Harry to take me seriously when I encouraged him to take me against my entrance wall, but as soon as the words left my mouth he sauntered through my threshold and had barely kicked the door closed before his hands were gripping my ass and his teeth were gnawing at my lips.

The light blue, see-through dolly nightgown is something I have never been brave enough to wear. But, tonight, I could feel Harry's presence coming for me like a giant pull in my chest.

Like he was a ship lost at sea and I was the light beacon beckoning him home.

And the feeling was so lustful and raw that I... I was just compelled to put it on.

And by the way Harry's eyes darkened three shades and his pants suddenly tightened as soon as he saw me, I think it's safe to say it was the right choice.

Though, I can hardly attribute my scantily clad attire to his sudden aggression. I could feel his ragging aura before I even opened the door.

A clouded red mist surrounding a celestial body usually indicates a deep-seated anger and frustration. An anger so strong, that the person just cannot seem to let it go. Cloudy red indicates a negative spirit, take caution.

And by the dark red bruises already blooming on my collarbone and the swell of my breasts, it's not hard to conclude that Harry isn't letting anything go.

As if to further my point, his palm suddenly comes down quick and sharp against the flesh of my bum and I have to bite my lip so hard so as not to scream that I taste the metallic tinge of blood.

He pins me to the wall with the weight of his waist, leaving his hands free to wander up my thighs, along the delicate skin of my hips, dancing across my ribs, until they reach my breasts. His voyage along my sensitive skin leaves my heart thundering in my chest and my legs quaking.

Every desperate touch, every sloppy kiss is like adding kerosene to the raging fire inside of me.

I want to burn.

I find his swollen lips again, teasing my tongue against their pillowy edge before diving right in and meeting his own. His lip ring is cold against my mouth and I wrap my tongue around it, pulling gently.