It's You [H.S.]

3.4 | You & I

4th July 2015 (continued)

Harry chases Eloise playfully up the stairs, fingers dancing up her legs and under the hem of her shorts.

At the top, he grips her hips and spins her to him, hushing her breathless laughter with a kiss whilst navigating her backwards to the bedroom at the end of the hallway.

>

Once inside, with the light from the deck below filtering softly through the open shutters, they pause to collect themselves.

"Who's in the room next door?", she whispers, head cocked to one side, listening out.

"Someone passed out drunk", he shrugs with a devilish smile, stepping closer.

"Touché", she grins.

Standing a couple of feet apart, the anticipation builds as their eyes roam appreciatively.

He raises a hand to pull on his lip, transfixed as his gaze lands on her chest; pretty bra and tempting cleavage on display through her partially open shirt.

His eyes only lift to follow the movement of her hand as she unties and shakes out her long blonde hair. He steps forward, reaching up to unfurl the plait from her hairline and rake his fingers through her now tumbling waves.

Running his hands down her thighs, he drops down to his knees, lifting each foot to undo the tiny buckle under her ankle. She reflexively curls her toes into the plush carpet, flexing and bending the joints both ways; habit still with her from years at the barre.

He looks up at her through his lashes as he slowly rises back up. Hooking a finger into the lowered neckline of her half unbuttoned shirt, with a tug he steps in to nuzzle into her neck. Angling his mouth to her ear, he whispers "Can I?".

At her nod in response, his knuckle teasingly grazes her abdomen inside her shirt as he works to undo the few remaining buttons. When he reaches the waistband of her shorts he unties the bow reverently, before making quick work of the button and zip to slip them down over her pert cheeks to drop to the floor.

Sliding the silk shirt off her shoulders, he hooks a finger into her necklace and pulls the dainty silver pendants from her cleavage with a soft smile, lifting it over her head and on to the bedside table.

He takes a small step back, gaze shifting up and down to take her in. Now it's his chest heaving.

Standing confidently in her pretty, matching pale pink mesh underwear, she remains focused on removing the cuff from her wrist.

Bathed in the soft gold light from outside, hair aflame, she looks like a goddess. He tells her so, making her blush at the compliment.

>

"My turn", she says eagerly in return, biting her lip.

She steps in and slides her hands up his chest, tracing the swallows before pushing the unbuttoned shirt from his broad shoulders as he toes off his boots and socks.

Stepping closer still, she presses kisses to the dates printed above his collarbones, then runs her hands back down his toned chest and abs, past the intricate swallows and butterfly, to trace the laurel leaves above his hips.

Hearing his shaky inhale, she looks up at him whilst unbuttoning his jeans and holds eye contact as she reaches carefully for the zipper. Frowning when it refuses to budge, she drops her gaze and does a double-take when she sees realises just how tight his jeans are.

"Jesus!" she whispers, cutting alarmed eyes back up to his, "How on Earth do you squeeze into these?".

"Tonight's been a struggle", he admits with a smirk.