Your Phases [h.s]

Twenty-three

The second his lips pressed into mine, anything I'd ever experienced up until that felt pointless. Supernovas were scraping and pricking my skin, bolts of electricity ignited me all over, the clouds parted and nothing but lightning had lashed down from above. I moaned without care into his mouth, pressing my lips against Harry's plush ones as they smothered mine with an inexplicable hunger. I could barely breathe—I didn't want to breathe.

I just wanted more.

I tore my hands free from Harry's. Disconnecting our fingers, I reached out, grabbing his face and pulling him closer. My fingers once again saw out his hair. Those thick, sinister curls swallowed my digits whole. I groaned against his lips, lifting my trembling legs and wrapping them around Harry's waist to push him against me. I felt his length, it was hard, pulsing, and I knew it had to be painful.

Harry let out an unusually high-pitched sound, a sort of whine, I believed it to be. He grabbed my waist and began grinding into me like before, only this time, he wasn't holding back. 

"You," he tugged our mouths apart. Although he didn't give me much time to gather my thoughts, as he caught my swollen lower lip between his teeth. A warm metal sensation swarmed my tastebuds. "You are not what I expected."

Then his lips were back on mine, claiming them as his own; I was his for the taking. Harry's large palms were grabbing and palming all over my body, cupping my rear and squeezing it relentlessly. My eyes rolled back into my very skull.

The weight of him on top of me, his gigantic body smothering mine, it was wonderful. Harry was so heavy, so warm, and so wonderfully addictive. I never wanted to fucking breathe again. Not if it meant having Harry on top of me forever. It was a feeling I missed even as I experienced it. The scent of a never-ending forest, tall pine trees, and wet, freshly-watered leaves. It struck my every sense.

"I can't go slow with you, Frost." Harry pushed back from me, glaring down with those piercing eyes. Void-black, piercing. His crotch remained aligned with mine, thank God. "I seriously can't control myself, there's something about you... I'm fucking gone." I blinked up at him, my eyes were wild and uncontrolled. "Just you wait, I'm going to show you how fucking good this bed really is."

My eyes widened and I gasped as he kissed me harder. I didn't think he could. There was nothing tender about his lips, his tongue was pressing into my mouth, swirling and working its way inside freely. My spine arched as my nerves struggled to process it all. I pushed back, kissing him harder than I had before. Harry liked it though, of course he did. He loved a challenge. This was another game for him, it had to be. Game. On.

I was capable of playing every game with him.

I groaned, waving my hand in the small space between our bodies, trying to snag his attention. Our lips pulled apart and with a graze of disappointment, he looked at my hand, watching as I gestured desperately.

"What do you want?" his voice trailed with a song-song voice, smirking, and I merely tugged with my thighs, yanking him down roughly.

"Oh," his eyes brightened. A lightbulb clicked. He looked at my hand, then his. "Oh."

My jaw clenched and my stomach curled, Harry's hand wrapped around my neck just as it had done many times before. Except this time, it was my choice.

I blindly grabbed his wrist, tightening my small fingers around it. Harry grinned, his right dimple popping. He squeezed the sides of my throat, and he did it perfectly. It wasn't as painful as he could've made it. He knew what I wanted. What I needed. He always seemed to know.

I smiled at him with pursed lips, knowing my hair was ragged and my skin was a flushed mess. Harry leant down and pushed his plump lips back on mine, sliding his free hand from behind my back and snaking it around my waist to my lower stomach. I stilled for a second, jolting with anticipation. And then, he slid it lower.