fostered {h.s}

044

isabelles pov

(A/N: sexual content enjoy! please leave inline comments)

What the fück have I gotten myself into?

He held himself to hover over me and leant down, kissing all over my neck.

His hands sneak under my back and into the back of my pants, squeezing the flesh of my bottom.

"My mum is home, Harry." I try to hold my voice but I moan it accidentally.

He looks up at my expression and smirks, "What you did right there seems like you don't want me to stop."

"I never said that. Just said that my mum's home. Shut that door and lock it." I threaten and he pushes himself off of me, walking to the door and doing as I told him to.

He made his way back to the end of my bed and climbed onto it quicker than usual. I guess he's excited.

If he thinks we're having sex with my mum home he's truly a comedian.

"What do you want to do, baby?" He whispered in my ear, taking my ear lobe between his teeth.

"I want you."

Why did I say that? Of course I want him in so many ways, but was I really ready for him in that way?

"What do you mean you want me?" He questions, pulling up to look me in the eyes, completely dumbfounded.

He's so dumb sometimes.

"I want to-"

"Darling, are you saying you are ready for me to pop your cherry?"

"I'll change my mind if you say it like that." I smiled and looked at the ceiling through my nerves.

He smirked down at me and kissed my lips lovingly. The kiss lasted for about ten more seconds before he pulled away slightly.

"Do you think you're ready? I want you to be ready." He whispered and I nodded.

"Yes, I'm ready."

His smile from earlier enlarged widely like him on his birthday when he gets attention.

I smile because of his and flip us over forcefully. I am now straddling his upper thighs and his hands are on my hips.

His smile only stayed on his face, dimples prominent on his cheeks.

"I think you should be top. It won't hurt as bad." He said and slid his hands up and down the sides of my back. I nodded and leaned down, kissing him once more before moving my hands to the bottom of his shirt.

He assisted me in taking his shirt off and my eyes drifting down his torso to a new tattoo he must've gotten recently.

There was a small tattoo right below his hip in black ink about the size of my thumb. It was a word in some different language. I'm guessing Hebrew.

"When did you get that?" I ask him and blushed, saying a week ago. "Why'd you blush? What does it mean?" I start giggling.

"It's Belle in Hebrew." He shyly mutters.

He is looking at my figure and decides its a phenomenal idea to rip my button up shirt off of me. Buttons flew all over my floor with the ruined shirt and I gasp.

I harshly move my palms up and down his abs, trying not to slap him.

"That was so expensive! Not everything can be ripped off, Harry." I groan but stop when he pulls me down to kiss me. I release a sigh and melt into him, kissing back.