Harry walked Eilidh backwards into the house, the cold raising goosebumps on her skin as his fingers grazed under her pyjama top. Her hands tangled in his hair, frantically, feeling his face, his ears, the sharpness of his jaw and the curve of his lips. Even when she withdrew for breath, it was too far away for her, and her fingers pulled at his clothes, her brain feeling like it was exploding with stars, little fireworks pinging off in her mind as she felt him, finally, back with her.
The house was in darkness, and Harry eventually pulled away from her, his eyes wild, his beanie long fallen from his head, and his coat pooled on the floor from where she had pushed it from his shoulders. "Is anyone up", he asked, his ghost of a whisper breathing spearmint on her face, and she shook her head in a no, turning and dragging him behind her, up a flight of stairs, to her childhood bedroom.
Harry smiled as they entered, taking in the interior, the childish pictures on the wall, and the photographs of Eilidh when she was a teenager, arms slung around her friends, a carefree happy smile wreathing her face.
Eilidh cocked her head to the far wall, raising her finger to her lips to indicate that her parents were asleep next door. Harry nodded, before coming back to her again, groaning softly into her mouth as he pressed her back on the bed, their tongues lazily wandering, probing.
Eilidh felt like her whole body might burst into flames, and she realised her legs and arms were shaking. "Harry", she gasped, suddenly terrified, as if she had forgotten everything of what they were, of how they came together, how easy and beautiful it was.
He pulled back from her and took in her expression, his not much different, biting his lips, his brown furrowed. "Are you alright", he whispered, and she nodded, her chin still quivering. "Do you want to talk?", Harry asked, hesitant about going too far when they had just endured such a traumatic two weeks.
Eilidh pulled his face over hers until their foreheads were flush, and gazed into his eyes, steadily, hotly, shaking her head. Harry pressed his lips together, shaking his head against hers, trying to remain calm. She really had no idea of the effect she had on him. "I love you, Eil", he whispered, closing his eyes and trying his best to push his insecurities away. He let his hands wander under her top, gently grazing the bottom of her bra, the simple action making them both inhale sharply, and Eilidh cry out softly. "This might not last very long", Harry choked out, half seriously, and Eilidh chuckled and ignored him. Sensing his trepidation, she gently rolled him onto his back so she was straddling his hips.
"We have to be quiet", she warned him, while she pulled his tee shirt over his head, kissing his neck, his chest, gently sucking on his collarbone, while he strained uncomfortably against his jeans, groaning into his hand which he had clamped over his mouth. Eilidh rocked herself against the seam of his jeans, feeling him swell beneath her, whimpering to herself, and biting on her finger as she rolled back, propping herself up on his thighs with her hands.
Harry sat up suddenly, roughly rolling her under him and tugging at his belt and his jeans, while Eilidh kicked off her shorts, writhing in her knickers beneath him. Harry rested himself between her legs, and lapped at her through the lace of her panties, making a long low moan peal from her throat. His head immediately snapped up to give her a warning look, reminding her of the volume. She nodded, still whimpering, gulping her moans back, as she bucked her hips, trying to tug off her knickers. Harry eventually put her out of her misery and peeled them from her hot damp skin, growling deep in his throat at the sight of her glistening pussy. He nibbled gently on her clit, while Eilidh held her breath, kicking her legs in frustration, wanting so badly to cry out.
Harry was shaking, he wanted her so badly. His arms so unstable he was unsure that he could hold himself up as he pulled himself over her. Unable to even bear the usual teasing her drove into her harshly, scooting her backwards on the bed, as Eilidh bit down onto his shoulder.
He pumped, hard, fast, his forehead pulled in a she forced himself to lift his head to look down at her as she raised her hips to meet his, her arms languishing above her head, her eyes lulled and half-open. He brought his hand up to cup her jaw and brought his forehead down to hers again, as he felt himself brimming. "I love you Eilidh", he gasped, feeling tears pool in his eyes, threatening to overflow.
