Inclination

Three Pieces, Thawing Out, Thigh Paintings

Harry gives you some time to poke around the cabin a bit and unpack your bag in the master bedroom, finding more flowers on the end tables and candles in the rustic bathroom. Large windows display an elegant evergreen forest just beyond the edge of a bath tub and jacuzzi and you're tempted to just strip naked and spend the entire weekend in this one room.

A chest pressing up against your back followed by a set of plump lips enfolding onto your neck has your muscles relaxing as your head lolls onto his shoulder, "mmm, hi." An arm circles your waist with a full wine glass appearing in front of your stomach and you're gasping in joy as you collect it from his fingers to take a sip, "yep, goodnight nurse."

He laughs and kisses your cheek before speaking into your hair, "need some help in the kitchen."

You spin on your toe and smile at his attractive features resting in an easy smile, "is that what you're calling your pants now?" His face drops in forged annoyance before he plucks the wine glass from your hand and drinks half of it in one gulp with widened eyes, then puffing his cheeks out to avoid choking on laughter when you shriek and smack his shoulder.

Harry cooked spaghetti for dinner while you sat on the kitchen counter drinking wine, swinging your legs and whistling at him each time he bent over or carried something heavy from one side of the room to the other, his biceps and back muscles flexing underneath his crisp white t-shirt with each nuanced movement of his limbs.

He dotted your cheeks and nose with tomato sauce from the wooden spoon only to lick it off and collect it on his tongue when you whined in complaint, grabbing your chin and kissing you deeply to pull away and ask, "how's it taste?"

He smiled when you looked at him in bemusement and said you'd need another taste to determine before he spread your legs and pressed your centers together, sucking the skin of your throat into his mouth and complimenting the scent of your worn perfume before he kissed you again, pulling your tongue into his mouth and sipping on it gently.

He casually fed you spaghetti from his fork, standing up in the kitchen because he knew it was your favorite way to eat. The sauce flipped off the ends of the noodles and spattered on your shirt by accident, to which he recommended it was probably best if you just removed it entirely.

Harry stoked the fire and added more logs, humming when you approached behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist, kissing the top of his spine between his shoulder blades and digging your knuckles into the sore muscles of his back. When you suggested that he could probably use a soak in the jacuzzi, he turned around and pinned you to the plush rug in front of the fireplace, weaving your legs together and growling into your ear that you better strip and meet him there in thirty seconds.

Your breath echoes in your throat and your ears as steaming water fills the tub, the spark and glint of sulfur strikes your nose as you light candles around the room and on the massive windowsills. Harry coerced you to rush into the bathroom while he put dinner plates in the sink, your toes curling against the cool hexagon mosaic tile on the floor.

You dip a toe into the water before sinking in, your body gliding towards the edge of the large jacuzzi tub to lean your elbows on the perimeter as you face the tall angled windows that nod to the A-frame structure of the cabin. The sight of the scene outside completely covered in snow draws a chill up your spine and pearls your nipples, almost as if you can feel the chill of winter air simply by looking at it.

The stars are visible beyond the apex of the tall trees, their gleam of energy nearly the same color as the snow and the moon. Two hands land on either side of your perched elbows, followed by the comfort of sinewy arms and a smooth, wet chest and then finally a lusty mouth drops to you shoulder before he speaks, "deep in thought?"