favorite crime [h.s]

sixty one

Bursting into my apartment, our tongues are hungrily down each other's throats. His hands are tight on my ass, causing me to moan into his mouth, and he kicks the front door shut with his foot. He pushes me against it, roaming his palms along the sides of my body until they force my arms up above my head.

I gasp dramatically when his kisses travel down my neck and suck generously on my skin, not caring about leaving obvious marks. No amount of air that flows between my parted lips is enough to make up for leaving me breathless with his kisses.

I whimper and let my head slam into the door behind me. My eyes are closed, and I allow further whines to escape my lips. With my hands pinned above my head, my fingers are desperate to touch the curly mess on his head, which just happens to be tickling my neck as we speak.

When his palm travels up my torso, it makes sure to graze the curve of my breasts before it wraps around my throat. Opening my eyes, I smirk attentively while his face is buried into my chest. I've learned to crave his mild choking.

He proceeds to kiss my skin when his fingers tighten around my neck. I teasingly let my head fall back and force a dramatically loud moan to leave my lips. A rushed feeling of euphoria enters my brain in little bits and causes my stomach to flutter with butterflies.

He smirks and lets go of my wrists, feeling like intense relief as I bring them down between us. He connects our lips hungrily, shoving me harder into the door behind me. My fingers hook into his belt and push him closer, which causes him to decrease the distance between us.

The tip of his tongue licks across my bottom lip, causing an exciting tingle to wander along my skin. He repeats the touch again and again until I finally open my mouth wide enough for his tongue to slip in.

I fidget with the lapels of his jacket for a while until I jostle the jacket as a whole off his shoulders. Defined muscles peek from beneath the black dress shirt, making me hot and flustered.

I rip the buttons of his shirt open and roam every part of his skin that my hands can reach. The fabric falls off of one shoulder, hanging lazily.

"Fucking hell, you're hot when you're aggressive," he murmurs into the kiss, not even mad about me ruining his shirt.

My lips are already feeling slightly sensitive, given our eager movements.

No regrets.

I retort playfully, "you're aggressive all the time."

He pulls back, resting his hands on my cheek to rub my skin. "Means, I'm hot all the time?"

Instead of replying, I attach my lips to his neck and generously explore his body with my hands. Leaving a trail of kisses along his skin, I purposely want to create hickeys and mark him as mine.

Because he is mine. As much as I am his.

He rubs my back, causing me to groan into the kisses I place on his neck. Back rubs are so amazing; I didn't know those could feel good in a sexual way. My fingers tug on the rest of his buttons until the shirt hangs open, and I tear it from his torso.

Fingers stab into my hips when I suck on his chest, leaving bruises there, too. His head falls back with a raspy moan from deep inside his throat, and I shyly blush, running my hands down his abs.

I sense a sudden feeling of cold along my body when my dress is unzipped and is now lying in a puddle at my feet.

My eyes dart to Harry, who smirks at me.

"Cold?" he teases, referring to my hard nipples.

It's so unfair how easily he can undress me in comparison to the countless buttons I have to pop to get his shirt off, not to mention his pants.