Un-Tying the Knot {h.s.}

Chapter 28*

*mature content warning.
skip this chapter if you're not comfortable
(but still artful and less smutty,
unlike my other books)*

When my alarm buzzes at 10am, all I want to do is roll back over and go back to sleep -- not just because I'm exhausted after having gotten into bed just after 6am, but because this bed is warm and soft, and my heavy, fatigued body never wants to leave it. Extra perk, it smells like Harry.

Mmmm, Harry.

I sigh, eyes burning from lack of sleep because of the cheeky green-eyed man that has completely inched his way into my collective subconscious.

I try to focus on the picture frames littering the nightstand to wake up since they're the only thing within my focus. As I do, I can't help but notice the contrast between a cheekier young Harry and the older, more handsome version that's been haunting my dreams extensively the past few days.

As I come to, I can't help but notice how much he's evolved as I stare at the photos. Most notably, it's the happiness in his eyes that seems much more dull as I look between the photos of him and his family as a child to the stoic photo of him and Eleanor at some party. The smile never quite seems to reach his eyes now like it did then -- and there's a part of me that's shocked that he doesn't see it. It seems everyone else does.

Stop. It's his life. I just have a crush that I shouldn't have allowed myself to get in the first place. A meaningless crush.

But despite his monotoned happiness, he has really grown into his own. His jaw is more angled, his features more pronounced, his hair a starker brunette instead of a blonde. And that raw sex appeal certainly blossomed somewhere in his late teens.

God, he's hot.

I close my eyes, the tingling between my legs overpowering my non-existent common sense as I think about every moment we've had over the past few months. The banter and those cheesy Dad jokes to the longing glances, the biting of the lips, the unspoken words, to the actual close encounters we've had. Even if the reality of his actions were exaggerated on my part because of a girl crush I had, the thoughts still made me weak in the knees.

It had been so long since I've gotten laid that I couldn't help but feel frustrated as I thought of every time we had a moment, the wetness between my thighs now completely unavoidable.

Biting my lip in exhaustion, I decide it's time to take care of this once and for all. In seconds, I kick off the duvet and slowly push my shorts and panties down my thighs, letting them pool at my ankles because I was too tired and lazy to kick them off.

Sighing in contentment, I let my legs fall open, exposing my bare heat to the cold air. I hiss a little at the feeling, letting my eyes close to imagine what it would feel like to be bare in front of Harry, as if he had just pulled them down himself and was now staring at me fully exposed to him.

I slowly let my hand slide down my clothed torso, my nimble fingers slipping cautiously between my thighs and slowly sliding along the slit.

Damn, I am really wet.

I keep my eyes closed, imagining the time Harry was almost naked in his fitting, reciting the sight of his bulge contrasted with those impeccable abs from memory.

Ugh, how I want to lick those abs and every single one of his tattoos so badly.

Slowly, I slip the pad of my index finger between my folds, quickly finding my clit and starting to rub it slowly as my mind continues to wander.

I couldn't help but think of how his body felt against mine when he was teaching me how to golf, or how his muscles felt when I was clutched onto the back of him on his four wheeler.

A shiver went up my spine, back arching slightly as my panting grew heavier -- I was trying to keep as quiet as possible, but I really needed a release.

And then I remember what it looked like the night we were drunk when he grabbed at the air and pumped his hips while he talked about his favorite sex positions. I longingly licked my lips as I thought about giving him exactly what he wanted, bouncing up and down on him until we were both sputtering messes.

God, I wish I could feel him inside of me. I bet he's so big.

Feeling the ache intensify, I push my hand a little lower, letting two of my fingers slip into my core that was now a sopping mess. You could hear the slick friction of my wetness with every pump, and I kept imagining that this is what it would sound like if he were to fuck me like I was dreaming about.

I let my other hand slide down my body to take the place of my now occupied fingers, letting a new pair of fingers circle on my clit, gasping as I got closer and closer to my high. The thoughts of Harry were so intense that my hips started bucking lightly, still trying to keep my whimpers to a minimum.

"Fuck," I whimper.

My back arched again as I became captivated with the memory of him touching the nape of my neck, nuzzling his nose in it, of his hand holding my palm against his chest.

But it wasn't the feeling of his touch I remember the most that threatened to tip me over the edge as I continued my motions -- it was the intense look in his eyes, the dilated deep hunter that bore into my soul with a mixture of what I imagined was love and lust.

"Oh, Ha..." I muttered, moving faster as I was about to cum.

And as soon as I was on the edge chasing the white light and the body trembles I so craved, the door swung open abruptly and the guilty green-eyed monster stood in the door, immediately halting my orgasm.

"Livvy...it's time to get..." he paused immediately, eyes taking in the sight before him as he tried to process exactly what was happening right now.

My bare lower half was completely visible from his spot at the door, legs spread eagle and hands buried in my very wet, aroused reproductive region.

He just stood there, jaw slowly dropping as his mind processed what was actually happening right now.

Neither of us moved, completely paralyzed in shock.

It took me a fraction of a second to realize what just happened.

"Oh my god!" I squealed, pulling the blankets quickly over my lower half as I scrambled to cover myself and my wounded pride.

"I--I..." he stammered.

"What are you doing!?" I hissed, anger hiding my embarrassment.

"I'm...I'm so sorry! I should have...I...knocking...I just...ummm," he laughed nervously in a panic, starting to rub at the base of his neck.

I grabbed a pillow and covered my face.

"I, uh...what am I still doing here?" he groaned. "I...sorry; I....so sorry."

And as quickly as he came, he shut the door loudly and left.

Great.
I am an idiot.
And I didn't even get off.
I'm never gonna recover from this one.

--
A/N:

Short chapter, but y'all deserved a little smut. It's been quite a while.

Do you think they'll recover? Or do you think it's gonna be awkward for awhile?

Let me know your thoughts!
Like & Favorite, please!