We Made It |L.T|

Chapter Twenty-seven

I cautiously raised the glass of water to my lips and began to sip the much-needed drink. It was late at night, with stars twinkling over London, cars honking nonstop, and occasional tire squeals and brakes could be heard. However, the night was quiet, and the rain pattered against the apartment's enormous windows as though it had just begun to fall. I've been home with Louis for almost an hour now. We spent the evening together and were getting ready for bed.

After dinner, he took me to a nearby park where we took a walk around the lake. The date was fantastic. Our arms swinging back and forth, our hands entwined with one other's. It didn't seem necessary for us to speak with one another. That talk wasn't necessary in our relationship since the silence between us said all about how we felt and how much we appreciated one other's company.

Louis was noticed by a few fans, but none approached to say hi. I know Louis saw them, too, but he wanted to focus on me and ignored them. That made my pulse race because he didn't want anything or anyone to disturb the tranquil setting we created together—the bubble in which we cocooned ourselves. Our little, unbroken universe. We had a great time spending that evening together and being in each other's company.

Right now, I'm gazing out the window at stunning London. I could still feel the moments we shared in the car on the way there and returning home. He was holding my thigh. Throughout the whole evening, I observed that he consistently maintained a hand on me. Putting his hand on my lower back, holding hands, or even just stroking my waist are all examples of his affection. He did it to demonstrate to the world that I was already taken and that my heart belonged to someone else.

The familiar feel of his arms encircling my waist and pressing his front into my back as he joined me made my breath catch. He put his head on my shoulder and we shared those few seconds without saying anything. As he drew me into him, his hands remained flat against my abdomen. I felt his beard brush over the flesh of my neck and bit my lip to keep anything from spilling out.

"Did you enjoy yourself, Darling?" His lips were kissing the sensitive skin on my neck as he spoke softly. His hot breath fanning across my skin, he hummed. Which, at the unexpected sensation, made my gut tighten and my heart race. His mouth brushed across my neck in a distracting way. Against my skin that had flushed, they felt moist and soft.

"Yes, very much so! I want to thank Louis for a fantastic evening." I felt his tongue skitter over my flesh and breathlessly muttered, "I loved every moment with you." I could feel a smile appear on the older man's face as I spoke. He nuzzled into me, his arms closing around me to stop his assault on my neck. "I enjoyed every moment with you too, Lovey." He whispered something in return, then resumed kissing my neck.

"We'll do it again sometime." Between bites and licks, he said. My body began to heat up as he continued to nibble and probe at my flesh, sucking it between his lips, then biting and then licking it to relieve the throbbing sensation he had left behind. He reached down to the hem of my T-shirt, then lifted it up and slid his hands under the soft material to press against me.

The tips of his fingers skimmed over my stomach, making it contract once again. His other hand found my hip before he drew me against him, and I could feel every part of him as he anchored his hips against me. As his fingers strayed further up my chest, his chest pressed into my back. His rough digits didn't come into contact with my left breast until he cupped it tenderly and applied pressure. Because he was seeking a response for the affect he was doing to me.

The same sensation I had felt at his sister's place was growing up between my thighs, and I could feel my heart thumping against my chest. I put my head against his and felt his lips move slowly down my shoulder, sucking and clamping on my skin until my lips parted and I let out a whimper. "Are you alright Darling?" His other hand had gripped my right breast in an unusual way, and he asked me worriedly when he heard me quiver once again. "M-more." With a stammer, I begged, expressing my bleak desire for this man. My body aches for his touch, for his contagious love.