earned it [h.s.]

25. (*)

Harry.

I couldn't sleep.

I stared at the dark ceiling of Genevieve's bedroom with her in my arms. Her breathing evened out against my neck, her arms tightening slightly when she was cuddled into my side. She smelled like the shower she just had and I kept my fingers stroking up her thigh comfortingly.

But I couldn't sleep. My heart was pounding and I was so fucking excited. It was like I could run a marathon or I'd just run up to the roof and scream for the entire world that I just had the best sex of my life and I felt like an entire new man.

I couldn't stop the grin on my lips for the life of me when I repeated everything that happened. Genevieve's patience, her waiting for my decisions and letting me have full control. Because she knew I needed it, she knew it was the one thing I craved.

Her moans, her encouraging whimpers, her pulsing, tight... God I had to stop before I got hard again. She took me so fucking well. It was an ego boost that she said I was big. I wasn't even sure if she meant it, she had obviously done this often and perhaps had some tricks to make everyone feel special.

But it did make me special that she was sleeping in my arms right now. I knew she never had a boyfriend or had never really gone on dates or anything. Perhaps I even was the first man to make it up to her apartment.

She had been pliant during sex, letting me do whatever I wanted. I pulled her hair, spanked her, spat in her mouth. She said yes to everything I suggested, making me feel like I wasn't crazy at all for having these kinks. So different from Blair, who shamed me time and time again for having an interest in something that was maybe unconventional. Genevieve didn't even blink twice.

So here I was, in another woman's bed while my wife was in Ireland on a business trip. And I felt so fucking free. I was smiling, my cheeks pained and my eyes twinkled as we laid silently on the mattress.

I eventually did doze off for about an hour but woke up around seven again. Genevieve was still out cold but had shifted around a little during the time. She was no longer asleep on me but had her back to me. Her shirt was off and she was topless, covered up by the sheet when I just saw the naked top half of her back with a messy braid sprawled out over it.

I stared at her for a bit, counting the freckles I saw, mentally dragging my fingers over the visible vertebrae and fighting the urge to give her a little massage. I knew her shoulders had to hurt from me holding her arms back the entire time during sex. She didn't complain once.

Her shirt was in a heap next to her pillow as she hugged herself close to the cotton which her head rested on. I was mesmerized. And she wasn't even doing anything.

The early summer light coming from inside lit up her apartment ever so slightly. She had shitty curtains that didn't keep out much, so I got the chance to look around a little. It was the most impersonal thing I had ever seen.

No picture frames, hardly any decorations. She had a few plants that needed urgent watering and then a bookcase with a couple worn-out second hand books with a layer of dust on them. She had an old bulky laptop on a wonky wooden desk sitting in front of the window.

Her closet was halfway open and there was a drying rack in the open space with some washed clothes on it which could be folded up after being air-dried.

I knew I wasn't going to catch sleep anymore so I slipped out of the bed, hoping the creaking of the floors wouldn't wake Genevieve up. I opened up the bedroom door and got into the bathroom, seeing the plain white furniture there. Even her shower curtain just made me feel like I was in a hospital. I took a leak and found a spare toothbrush, claiming it as my own before I washed up quickly and used some of her products on my skin.