Magnolia in May [H.S]

Part eighty

"And our lives are forever changed"
"We will never be the same"
"The more you change the less you feel"

"Believe, Believe in me"

"We're not the same, we're different"

Harry

-- -

Her fingers tangle into the mess of my curls, soft depleted kisses against my forehead. A lingering scent of caramel and lazy cuddles, my hand rubs up her back while she lays on her stomach. Just staring into those honeyed irises sends me back to last night.

The both of us emotionally and physically spent. After we soaked in the feeling of each other, the addicting warmth. I carried her to the bathtub, ran warm water, and coaxed her into it. The bubbles hiding my hand between Meg's silky thighs, parting mouth accompanied by pleading whispers. Some meaningless French nothings and the cold tile under my feet. Her head slacks while soft moans fell from her lips as I gently worked her into another climax. The exact opposite of moments before, it was sweet and slow. Packed full of delirious punches of emotion. Deep down laced with vulnerability.

I remember drifting away with her entangled in my arms, perspiring sleepy noises. Sighs of resting, content breaths. I wanted nothing more than to stay in the moment, admire the angel that nested so safely beside me. The seconds faded away into the night, my lids fell heavy and thick. Royal tingles spread into the remaining bit of lucidity, as last mutters slipped out in bleary French.

"Je t'aime, j'aimerais que ce ne soit pas seulement la lune qui savait. Peut-être qu'un jour le soleil aussi."

It felt like an end to all the drama, us coinciding in peace.

I didn't begin to think about the dramatics of the past few days, or how the both of us avoided talking about it. I knew that was unhealthy, and that sooner than later we'd have to dive deep in the messy abundance of miscommunication. My feelings were unexplainable when it came to Meg, strong and unfiltered. It felt nearly impossible to understand the tip of the iceberg.

I'm met with a soft smile plastered upon her lips, eyes greeting mine. "So are we going to talk about how your safeword is serendipity?" I simper out, biting the edge of my lip with implications. My eyes fall to her bare chest, half-covered in the warm grey sheets. I pick at the cross laying there between her smooshed breasts, it's fuel for an even bigger smile.

"There's nothing to talk about," She grins, showing me a full set of perfect teeth, those plump lips are just the icing on the cake.

I tut slowly, tapping my fingers down her back. My lips gravitate to the hickey right over her left tit, pressing two sweet kisses over it before I move to her neck. Meg's breath hitches despite her ego, heaving tits nuzzling into my bare chest.

"Harry," She shrieks as I nip at her soft neck, massaging both of her tits in my hands. I'm entranced in the caramel smell of her skin, and a lingering scent of bath oils deep within. That wasn't the best part, it was that she was stained with me all over. A trace my lips made in purple marks, cuts on her perfect ass. My grans' crucifix laying dainty on between her tits. "You are a godsend, sugarfuck."

I nuzzle deeper between her breasts, peppering my affection. I drown in the warmth of her body, honing to her hitching breaths and pittering heartbeat.

"I thought I was a cockslut." Meg laughs under her breath, echoing a rumbled vibration between the two of us. I roll my tongue on her nipple, even though it appears an act of lust it's grounded in innocence.