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Chapter 40

What happened to the soul that you used to be?

— Halsey, Ghost

. . . .

The next morning, I wake up at almost eleven in the morning and the side of the bed to my left is empty except for the abundance of pillows scattered about. The curtains are drawn shut, making the room seem like it's in the middle of the night. I would've thought it was if it weren't for the window in Harry's bathroom casting a cheerful glow against the shower curtain.

Seconds later, the door cracks open and Harry stands in the doorframe for a minute or two. The light from the living room creates a vibrant cast of a rich gold burst of sunlight across the hardwood floor in the hall. All he has on are dark boxers with his hair a mess of sloppy waves.

When he walks over to the bed, the dark room makes him into a coal coloured silhouette with the light pouring in from behind. He doesn't seem to notice I'm awake when he crawls underneath the covers. His weight is pressed down on top of me and the heat of his body engulfs me.

"Vi," he whispers into my ear once he pulls his lips away from mine. His hand pushes my hair away from my face and tucks the braid behind my shoulder. "Baby, I'm sorry for yelling at you last night. I was stressed out about the water, and I shouldn't have blamed you for any of it."

I cup my hands around his muscles and rub his smooth skin. I shake my head before responding, "I just wish you would control your temper. You do around Lilly, so why can't you at least try for me?"

"I didn't come in here to fight with you." He starts to remove himself from the bed, but I pull him back down to where he previously laid.

"I don't want to argue either," I admit aloud.

"Then, let's not fight."

He swoops his body down lower and kisses my lips in a smooth, slow fashion as his hips start rocking against mine, creating a glorious tingle to burst throughout my lower region.

As our kissing gets hotter and our lips are almost sore, his hair seems like it's getting longer with each passing second. Even though I love his hair, I want to shave it all off because of it hanging in my face and tickling at my neck. I pull it up to the crown of his head and tie it back to the best of its abilities.

In the meantime, he manages to pull the boxers I'm wearing down to my knees, but I have to push them down the rest of the way. To save time, we each rid ourselves of every single article of clothing we have on.

I grind my hips up into his, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he rubs the head over my clit. Him constantly repeating this action sends me on a trip to euphoria, and the pleasure intensifies when he slips inside of me.

"Yes, baby."

His pace is slow and torturous until it feels like he completely halted his movements. Then, out of nowhere, he slams into me with so much force that the crown of my head hits the headboard.

"Are you okay?" He chuckles under his breath.

"God, just keep going." I mewl, annoyed by the throbbing dip in my head from the collision.

He pounds into me with much more force. He ends up having to hold down my hips so I don't completely fly into the headboard—again.

"Fuck yes," he moans tiredly and his rigid movements have now become lazy. His pants are sounding like a dog's on a hot day—fast and heavy.

"Mm, Harry."

He doesn't give me a notice before he pulls out of me. His hand takes hold of mine as his head lowers down to my stomach. The squishy pads of his lips press against my skin from above my bellybutton down to my clit. His moist tongue lays flat against me with the occasional vertical swipes. The tip dips inside of me causing me to squirm around. My legs clench around his shoulders and the heels of my feet dig into the muscles of his back.