Highest Rank #61 in Fanfiction! Juliette McGill finds the perfect position as a nanny for a young boy with special needs. Only when she arrives at the family's home in British Columbia, she discovers that the boy is not quite what she expected and t...
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"Are you okay?" I kept repeating after Theodore had left. Harry was visibly upset by having a gun pointed into his neck; anyone would be. And hell, even a few hours later, my heart was still thumping. "Don't worry, baby. We're gonna get out of this. I promise." I stroked his face and kissed his forehead over and over again.
"I kn...know," he stuttered. "I know. I know." He repeated it as if he was trying to convince himself.
"Are you really okay?" I asked again. We were lying together on my bed, face to face, holding each other. I tipped his chin up to look at me and his eyes told me the truth. There was strength that he couldn't verbalize but I knew he'd be okay. "That scared me more than when he forced you to take all those pills," I said, feeling a lump rise in my throat. "I'm so glad you're okay." I placed both hands on his cheeks and kissed him, lovingly, longingly, thoroughly.
"I'm glad you're okay, too," he sighed, finally retreating from our lengthy kiss.
We curled up together under the blankets in my bed and laid there for the longest time, refusing to let go and sleep finally found us in the middle of the afternoon.
Stress does something to a person. It robs you of every resource you have and leaves you with only what you absolutely need to survive but you don't even know you have that much until you absolutely need to use it. I knew stress in college, meeting assignment deadlines, pushing myself to succeed, trying to impress my professors and the teachers I worked with.
It was nothing like this. I could honestly say I've never had my life threatened before. And I've never been responsible for someone else's life either. It was all Harry or I could do to stay focused and not lose sight of trying to get free. The only comfort we had was each other and the occasional break from reality that came in the form of sleep. And sleep was what we needed to recover from the trauma of the past weeks.
And to help us to prepare for what was to come.
I woke up some time later to Harry nuzzling my cheek and kissing my temple. Honestly, it was the best diversion so as to not think about what had happened just a few hours earlier. As soon as he knew I was awake, he dove in to kiss me, urgently, like an infant demanding to be fed. I crawled over his hips, sinking down against him. We frantically reconnected, clumsily knocking against each other and giggling awkwardly but not letting it slow down our momentum. Gradually, I pulled away from his mouth and kissed down his jaw to his neck, sucking at the skin and leaving small nips, all the while grinding my hips down on him.
I could feel his chest against mine, rapidly inflating and deflating as his breathing became erratic. My name bubbled from his throat more than once, more of a whine than an utterance. "How does this feel so good?" He mumbled.
"It's supposed to," I panted and sat up slightly to look at his face, never losing my rhythm. He pulled me down to his mouth and tilted my head to the side, giving me the same treatment. "Harry," I breathed. "I love it."
