I Won't Hurt You - The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band
cw violence, description of wound, mature content
LATER THAT NIGHT
The door slams behind us.
Harry presses my back against it, his lips somehow already on mine. I get a glimpse of his empty dorm room before closing my eyes and breathing deeply into his kiss. Our hands are everywhere— peeling back our outer layer of clothes, pulling, grasping at each other as if we're running out of precious time.
His jacket falls to the floor and our shoes get discarded quickly. We begin to blindly walk backward into the room, only glancing at our surroundings between rushed, eager kissing. My fingers are tangled deep in his curly hair when he tugs my shirt up. I lift my arms in the air momentarily, letting my clothing meet its fate on the floor.
The backs of Harry's legs bump into his bed. He sinks down onto it gradually, sitting down on the duvet and bringing me with him. I fall onto his thighs, straddling one of his knees and pressing down onto his chest with my palms.
"What are you gonna do with your cut?" I pant out into the hot air as he brushes my hair out of my face and kisses down the length of my throat. One of his hands applies heavy pressure to my waist and back, occasionally sliding up to toy with the back of my bra, while his other arm wraps around my hips tightly, holding me down on top of him.
"Buy a bigger bed," Harry murmurs into my skin. His warm breath tickles my neck and sends tingles down my spine. While his thumb hooks into my bra, my fingers play with the hem of his sweater, just as eager to take it off.
"This one's working just fine—" The rest of my sentence gets swallowed by his kiss. Our lips part slightly, allowing for our tongues to brush against one another rhythmically. Harry holds my face against his by my jaw, pressing me into him firmly. My cheek is smushed by his grip.
I push the bottom of his jumper up, and he pulls away to take it off of his body and throw it off the side of the bed quickly, revealing his sculpted, tattoo-covered chest.
My fingers immediately slide up from his lower stomach to his collar bones, feeling each dip and valley run over my hands shamelessly. Despite the many new and old scars running under my palms, his skin feels perfect to me.
Harry's eyes flicker down to my chest and I say yes under my breath, giving him the go-ahead to unclip the back of my bra. It falls down my arms and gets discarded with the rest of our clothes.
"What are you really going to buy?" I huff as he pulls me forward on his thigh, making me sit up higher than him on my knees. His head aligns with my neck, which he kisses sporadically, moving down to my collarbones and sternum. His chest feels warm and smooth against my bare skin.
"So sweet," Harry murmurs into my upper chest. His eyes flicker up at mine. "I could eat you."
"Answer the question." I try to focus on getting my explanation rather than on the pooling between my legs, a small, playful smile on my lips.
He subtly lifts his thigh between my knees, pressing it in between my parted legs. I sit back down on his raised thigh, sighing uncontrollably when he suddenly kneads one of my breasts and pulls my face down to his by my chin.
His eyes switch up and down between my gaze and lips, eventually settling down on my eyes. He's close enough that every time I breathe in, our noses nudge against one another gently, and my chest brushes against his collarbones.
"It's all yours," he murmurs, "every last cent."
I blink a few times through the haze clouding my mind. I part my lips to protest but it's hard to speak with Harry's lips less than an inch away.
YOU ARE READING
smother. [h.s.]
RomanceA part of me yearns to get alone with him the first chance I get, while another wants to ignore his gaze and hope I never see him again. Just looking at him now is difficult on its own, the unwavering eye contact driving me insane. I can't breathe...