R O L L I N G R E D •H.S•

❦24 • h e l l f i r e

• M O L L Y •
//T R I G G E R W A R N I N G:
S E X U A L A C T S\\

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Waking up next to Harry after waking up inside of a storage unit has made my morning already. Last night, we decided not to go into detail about anything until after we've both rested. He told me before we fell asleep that he had another show tonight and to that, I worried immensely about his well being. I can't stop thinking about how many people he killed and all of the things he said he did just to find me. And if it were his father who had taken me, I'd be smiling and in a fit of giggles over knowing this man would burn the world down for me if I asked that of him. Only issue is that it wasn't his father. It was mine. And truth be told, I don't know how to even explain what happened to Harry when I don't even know the entire story.

When Levi found me, he took me to a penthouse and didn't explain anything to me. No matter how many times I begged him to tell me how the fuck he's alive—he never gave in. He just told me what he wanted and kept it at that. Last night before I found Harry, he told me that he'd leave back to the penthouse but told me to meet him there before noon.

Rolling over next to me is a sleepy Harry. A few loose curls lay softly against his tanned forehead and while I can't help but keep my eyes on from his face, he sits there with a lazy smile.

"Take a picture, it lasts longer."

I smile but try to hide it by holding my bottom lip into my mouth with a shake of my head.

"Are you tired?" he asks through his rough, sleepy voice that I'll never get tired of.

I hum a mm-mm and to that, he smiles widely and opens his eyes. He looks at me while snaking his arms around my torso and pulls me against his chest. His lips find my neck instantly.

"Good," he mutters quietly against my skin, nibbling down on it with his teeth that causes a sharp sting. My lips part and a small whimper falls from my lips as he licks the spot he bit right after, laying a gentle kiss where he bit my neck just seconds ago. "Lift your hips, baby."

I lift my hips off of the bed. I feel Harry's hands grabbing my hips before spinning me upside quickly, my legs on either side of his legs, while my head faces the foot of the bed. He faces the same way but I don't see him. I see the wall and a TV sitting on an old dresser, while he sees the back of my head and my back. He lifts my shirt up slowly, the one he handed me last night to get out of the tight clothing I was in—pulling it off over my head and tossing it onto the floor. My lace underwear is the only thing covering any part of me now, and right when I think he'd be gentle and pull them off, I hear the sound of a click and before I can turn my head over my shoulder to look at him; I feel the lace fall from my hips and lay weakly underneath my wet core, resting preciously on his large shaft that's getting harder by each second.

"My father once told me to always have a weapon on me," he says lowly, trailing his fingers up my back slowly and rests one hand flat against my hip as he tangles his free hand into my hair and tugs it roughly, making my back arch and my head fly back. My eyes are met with the old cracking ceiling. "That's one piece of advice I'll always appreciate him giving me." He snaps the knife down, the blade falling back into its original place.

"Now," he says lowly, sending chills all over my body. I can feel the hairs on my body stick up, my nerves twisting and turning like a carnival ride. "You have a few choices here..."