Unlikely (H.S.)

nineteen*

~Harper~

When I woke up the next morning, the first thing I felt was Harry's warmth beside me, his arm draped lazily across my waist. I blinked, trying to shake off the lingering haze of sleep, and the memories from last night came rushing back. My entire body felt pleasantly sore, a reminder of just how intense everything had been.

I couldn't help but smile as I thought about how Harry had made me come twice more after that first overwhelming climax. It was as if he couldn't get enough of me, like he was determined to take me apart piece by piece and then put me back together again. And I had been more than willing to let him. The way he touched me, the way he looked at me—it had felt so intimate, so right. But now, in the light of morning, my mind was racing. Last night had been incredible, but it also left me with a million questions.

What did it mean for us?

Was this just a fling, something fuelled by the excitement of the night?

Or was it more?

I wanted to believe that it was more, but I was also terrified of getting my hopes up.

I turned my head slightly, looking at Harry. He was still asleep, his face relaxed, the slightest hint of a smile on his lips. He looked so peaceful, so content. I wondered what he was dreaming about, if he was thinking about me in those moments before he drifted off.

My heart fluttered as I remembered how attentive he'd been, how he had focused entirely on my pleasure. Each kiss, each touch had been deliberate, like he was trying to memorize every inch of me. It had been overwhelming, in the best way possible. And even though I was still buzzing from the experience, I couldn't shake the nagging doubts that crept into my mind.

What now?

I shifted slightly, careful not to wake him, and let out a quiet sigh. I wanted to stay in this moment, wrapped up in the warmth of his body, but I knew that eventually, we'd have to talk about what this all meant. I just wasn't sure if I was ready for that conversation yet. Instead, I decided to focus on the good—the way he made me feel, the connection that had sparked between us. I would let myself enjoy this for a little while longer before the reality of everything set in. As I lay there, my thoughts swirling, Harry stirred beside me, pulling me closer in his sleep. I let out a contented sigh, snuggling into his embrace, and decided to let myself enjoy the moment just a bit longer.

The morning sun poured through the thin fabric of the curtains, casting a soft, golden hue over the room. I lay in bed, my back pressed against Harry's chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing. His arm was still draped over me, fingers lightly tracing patterns on my skin that sent gentle shivers through my body, I must have drifted back off into my slumber.

I could sense the moment Harry began to wake, his breaths growing deeper and more purposeful. His lips brushed against my shoulder, the warmth of his breath stirring me from the haze of sleep. I turned to face him, meeting his sleepy, affectionate gaze with a smile.

"Morning," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep but full of warmth. His eyes were still heavy with the remnants of slumber, but the way his green eyes glowed made my heart race.

"Morning," I whispered back, leaning in for a kiss. The touch of his lips against mine was soft and tender, but quickly deepened as our kisses grew more urgent, filled with the passion and desire that had ignited between us the night before.

The world outside felt like it had vanished, leaving only the warmth of Harry's body pressed against mine and the soft rustle of the sheets.

Harry's hand traced gentle, teasing lines along my arm, his touch light but full of intention. His fingertips wandered over the curve of my shoulder, the hollow of my collarbone, and then down to the swell of my breast. Each touch sent shivers through me, igniting a slow, burning desire that made my breath catch. I tilted my head back, giving him access to my neck. His lips followed the path of his fingers, planting soft, lingering kisses that grew increasingly urgent. His warm breath against my skin made me shiver with anticipation. He nipped lightly at the tender skin just below my ear, his teeth grazing in a way that made my entire body tingle. His hands continued their exploration, moving slowly down my sides, his palms sliding over the smooth fabric of the sheets. He gently cupped my hips, his thumbs rubbing small, soothing circles that made me arch closer to him. Each touch was deliberate, calculated to tease and provoke, making my pulse quicken. He abruptly rolled himself over top of me, his thick, muscular thighs straddling my legs. I clenched my thighs, as seeing him over me again led to a pooling of heat between my legs. I was in ecstasy, feeling the weight of his body on mine. I responded to his touch eagerly, my hands roaming over his chest, feeling the hard, warm muscle beneath his skin. I traced the ridges of his abs, letting my fingertips linger and explore, examining each tattoo that decorated his torso in great detail. I slowly made my way down his body, running the pads of my fingers over his fern tattoos. I examined them, realising that one was actually a coverup.