~Close your eyes and picture the warmth of the sun on your skin... that's how being loved by her felt~
Harry Styles is a nepotism baby turned new father, left clueless with a newborn baby to raise, he is overwhelmed and under pressure. Matters are...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Insatiable is the new word I would use to describe myself around Harry.
Since he opened my eyes to what sort of pleasure is out there, I have reverted back to a horny teenager who has just learnt what sex is for the first time.
I can't get enough of him, he is like a drug that just keeps me constantly craving more. All I ever seem to think about is him and his touch, it consumes my mind nearly twenty-four-seven.
When I am working, all that my mind wanders back to is the feeling of him.
He is a bad habit that I am not sure I will ever be willing to break. I mean, who could?
Anyone in my position would find it hard to resist him and his witty charm. It's not just physical attraction that makes me so besotted with him, but his humour and his kindness.
All wrapped up in one, I am the most rapacious person when it comes to him.
I placed my hand on the back of his neck, underneath the curtain of his hair and pull him down on top of me. Leaning up so that our lips meet, I gather whatever confidence I have to wrap my thigh around the back of his leg to keep him close to me.
"Desperate Sunny?" He chuckles against my lips, noticing how needy I am already becoming from so much as a few heated kisses.
"Shut up and kiss me." I whine out a demand, hooking my finger over the necklace hanging low from his neck and using it as leverage to pull him down on top of me.
With another throaty chuckle that would have swiped my balance out from beneath me if I were not laying horizontal, Harry smashes his lips back on mine, using his tongue to caress mine in the fight for dominance.
We kiss for a while, my hands exploring up and down his shoulders, tracing along the ink of his left arm and occasionally scratching at his shoulder blades to hear the muffled grunt that I swallow whole.
Harry's hands are doing much the same, skating over each curve of my body, running up and down the swell of my waistline and the dip of my hip as he brushes his smooth hands over my skin.
Just as his hands grip the thin material at the hem of my dress, he stops himself and pulls back.
"Are you sure you want to do this?"
I nod, flustered and embarrassingly worked up to the point of aggravation already from a mere few kisses.
"I'm so sure." I whisper back with a small smile, feeling like this was slightly more intimate now than the heated rush of us trying to make it upstairs without waking up the kids. Then followed the awkward moment of giggles when Harry scooped up a sleeping Amos and ran out of the room with him, coming back empty handed but with a baby monitor so we could hear if he cries.
