where it ends || h.s. {COMPLETED}

4

edited

Maela

"Let's go inside," Harry whispers suddenly. I watch as the gorgeous man moves and leads me outside of the car, but to my own displeasure he doesn't lay a finger on me, his hands only kept to his sides. I look around to see if any people are watching us and to my surprise several people are glancing in our direction. Some even directly staring and others taking glimpses. Does Harry really draw that much attention?

I drop my head low for his sake but still act professional until we get into his building. Or where ever we are.

Wait, where are we?

We reach inside and my eyes scan the doors, wondering why not take this to my house or his. But the thoughts die easily as many reasons floods my head. How shameful it would be for me to take him to my trash of a home, mostly in comparison to his million dollar one which probably encases Arendia. Then the thought of a motel would probably never get past his mind for longer than a milisecond.

Even then, why did he pick such a high inn hotel where his colleagues could linger for what I assume is a business trip? So much for secrets.. and so much for dignity on my part.

But my face only falters more when I look up from my spot in the marbled hallway. Styles spread against the pearly walls, my entirety seemingly shrinking in stupidity. Harry seems to sense my decreasing comfort and almost eagerly he shoots me a tempting look, an effort that almost immediately has me back on track with him, no matter the circumstances. But holy crap am I easy. This needs to change.

I'll start that change after Harry.

Harry's driver is right behind us as we head into the elevator but Harry raises his hand, sending him a message through just his eyes and gesture.

No one makes it on the same elevator as us and the doors close, leaving the entire shaft to ourselves. The air shifts from thin and chilled to hot and thick, and not surprisingly my heart still thumps louder than my breath, my bottom lip being encased by my teeth.

My head is wrapped around the way his hands roamed my body, and the way his lips felt against my own has my body driving straight into the ground. His touch is like fire but the pain is inexplicably pleasurable. In the past ten minutes I've already grown addicted to his touch, and I want more, so much more. My fingers grip each other tightly and I can't help but turn to Harry with need. But he chooses to not look at me, only a smirk playing on his lips.

"Keep it classy, Ms. Sharp," his eyes flicks to the corner of the elevator, a camera perched between the walls.

Oh.

My feet turn and I look at the elevator doors but to my surprise his face jerks to look at me, a questioning expression on his face. It's impossible to not mirror him, as my own head is left in a melting glump. I try to read it but I get nothing with not enough time, the elevator stopping onto the floor he punched in. Nothing but silence and pattered footsteps leading me down the wide hallway. My heart thumps mildly now, but the pull between us is making itself known as it is taking way too much time to have his hands on me again.

My body is dying for release, and I can only imagine how he will take me, something that I haven't endured in a long time.

We reach his door and I feel my heat clench, the air ripping right out of my throat at the smallest motion. Harry suddenly stares down at me, and his eyes are dark, almost as if he was taken aback by my gasp.

He shoves the door open and roughly forces me in, my feet stumbling over each other clumsily while my heels throw me off.

I regain my composure as the door clicks shut, but I lose it right again as Harry presses himself to me, his body overpowering mine as he is the only thing that keeps me standing up right. My legs are jelly as he connects his lips to mine, his tongue sliding into my mouth causing my body to gasp out, my arms thrown around his shoulders as I hold him tight to me.