Endless Minutes

781 2 0
                                    

His entire body pressed her into the wall, practically suffocating her.  His hands, his warmth, his scent, his mouth - all focusing on her torment, her pleasure.  A welcomed juxtaposition.

Her head tipped back when his hand cupped her breast, squeezing before his thumb smoothed over her pebbled nipple.  He was on her neck instantly, tongue thrashing against her pulse as a moan traveled up his throat. She was... everything.  He couldn't touch her fast enough, couldn't absorb her moans and pants any more, yet wanted so much more.  Her time, her body, her love – never feeling like enough.

"I want you inside me," she breathed, the words floating up to the ceiling. 

He groaned in response, pressing his hips into hers even more. The pressure alone had her swallowing her own moan, let alone his hand gripping the back of her head to pull her lips back to his. 

His tongue was a smooth pass across her bottom lip, warmth spreading through her core so fiercely, as if it was going to explode.  She never wanted someone more.  It was all she thought about - when she could get him alone, the next time she could taste his moans and feel the thick weight of him inside her.  His fingers, his tongue, his cock - all lethal at tearing her apart. Like they – like he – was made for her pleasure. 

"Please," she whispered. 

Her hand slid down his stomach, squeezing between their bodies to flatten her palm against his length.  She could feel every inch of him straining against his trousers as he pressed his hips into her more, groaning as she made a pass up and down his shaft.  Her core was throbbing, begging for more of him. 

"Right here?" His lips curved into a small smile against her mouth, his tone taking on that teasing drawl that made her blood boil. His hands smoothed down her sides, gripping her waist and hips roughly, pulling her impossibly close to trap her hand between their bodies even tighter. "You want me inside you that bad?" 

His hips rolled against her hand as she nodded, a small grunt escaping his mouth to caress her swollen lips. She squeezed his length as best she could, her response dying in her throat as his teeth caught her bottom lip.  His strong thighs pressed between her own as he pulled her hand away, the hard bulge of him meeting her thrumming core as his mouth covered hers once more.

"I love when you're like this," he murmured against her mouth, his lips trailing down her jaw like molten lava. 

She felt like she was like this all the time. Begging for him. Needing to feel him on her, inside her. She wanted to be consumed by him any chance she got, any way she could. 

He pulled back just enough to look at her face, to see the need written across every beautiful feature. "Pull me out then," he murmured as his nose brushed hers. "I'm yours to have anyway." 

She could have screamed as fire licked across her skin just from his words. But then they were both frenzied hands and quick tugs to pull each others clothes off as fast as possible.

When her hand finally wrapped around his length, she barely got two full strokes on him before he was pulling her away from the wall in favor and pressing his own back against it. With more grace than she could muster, he pulled her to him and gripped her tightly as he slid them both to the ground until he was seated on the floor, her knees spreading on either side of his hips as her ass met his thighs.

She felt like she was suffocating with his length tucked against her center, her hips pressing into him more, begging to feel that fullness.

His mouth was covering hers with a moan, his kiss pure need and arousal. And when she slipped her hand down to guide him into her, his head fell back against the wall with a thud, a sharp intake of breath holding his chest steady before he released it with a groan as she eased onto him fully.

"Good girl," he breathed when she circled her hips just slightly before pulling up his length, barely making it half way before she was sinking down on him again.

He had nowhere to go, willfully pinned between her and the wall. All he could do was grip onto her hips as she rode him, begging her not to stop, babbling barely coherent praises into her skin.

"Fuck, love," he moaned, fingers digging into the plush skin at her hips to pull her down on him more. "That's it, fuck." 

Her hands found his hair, pulling it tight between her fingers as her hips met his over and over again. The sound of their skin meeting was the most beautiful, filthy melody. Until she gasped his name in a breathless chant. Deeper, more, oh my god, yes.

"I'm gonna– you're gonna make me come," he moaned, just as breathless, as if she was taking the oxygen from his lungs with every pump of her hips. "Come on me, please," he begged.

She pinned her forehead to his as her hips picked up the tiniest bit of pace, balancing on the edge of bliss.  Nails scratching against his scalp, fingers squeezing her ass, thighs pressing against thighs, centers grinding and connecting like they were made for each other.

They were made for each other. 

Her release wrecked him. Took him with her through that moonlit sky, where their heads were cloudy and their skin was buzzing, where they tumbled through overwhelming pleasure, over and over again.

It was written all over his face, just how gone he was. He would have drifted away into infinity with her as many times as she'd let him.

"That's it," he moaned in approval, both from her orgasm ripping through her and his own following right behind. Stars flashed behind his eyes as he pulled her down on his cock, as if he could bury himself inside her any deeper. Reach the depths of her soul and make a home there forever.

They were breathless as they came down, sinking into each other and the wall. Her hands felt like a soothing calm where they slid down the sides of his neck, her breath cooling his sweaty skin, a chill rolling down his spine. He smoothed his hands down her back, stroking gently as her breathing evened out and her body went slack against him.

"Just give me a minute," she murmured against his neck.

A minute to calm – before she could stand on wobbling legs, lean on him as they carried each other to their bedroom, wrap herself in bed with him once more. Just like any other night.

She sighed into his neck. "Will it ever get old?"

"I hope not," he whispered.

So he'd give her a minute. He'd give her all the minutes she wanted. Content to sit on the floor, as long as he was with her. To be completely and utterly hers.

Harry Styles ImaginesWhere stories live. Discover now