Passports in Footwells (Haylor)

New Year's Eve 2012 - Taylor

Since Harry crept into her hotel room at the crack of dawn two days ago, Taylor has felt like they've been playing catch up. Everything's been such a rush, running from place to place, engagement to engagement. And although she's constantly had her fingers laced in his and has fallen asleep in his arms at night, she still somehow feels like she hasn't actually seen him.

So she's not taking this slow, lazy start to the morning for granted for a single moment. Particularly not when Harry wakes her up by slowly kissing his way down her naked body before taking his time in taking her apart with his tongue and fingers until she is writhing and fisting the bedsheets and crying out his name as she comes.

He crawls back up, framing her head with his forearms, gracing her with a bright smile before he leans down to kiss her deeply. She can taste herself on his lips and feel his hard cock pressing into her stomach and she wishes every morning could start like this.

"God, I love waking up with you," he says, mirroring her thoughts. "I'll never get used to it." He's smiling down at her, his eyes flitting all over her face and she smiles back.

He kisses her again, his lips soft, his kiss deep and lingering. She reaches down between their bodies circling his cock with her hand ready to reciprocate.

"Want a bit of help with this?" she asks. Harry groans, his cock throbbing in her hand and his hips thrusting gently into her touch. For some reason, Harry wavers for a moment, his eyes flicking towards his phone on the bedside table, but then Taylor starts to stroke him and they fall closed, a shuddering moan escaping his lips.

"Fuck, yeah please," he says.

She tangles her spare hand in his curls, pulling him in for a slow, gentle kiss that gradually becomes more heated until she rolls them over and presses him back into the mattress. Her hand works over his hard length, teasing his weeping slit and spreading his precum to ease the glide. He throws his head back, moaning desperately, breaking their kiss and she trails her lips down his neck and over his collarbone. She loves having him like this, his eyes tightly closed, his lips parted, cheeks flushed. He somehow looks both sinful and heavenly at the same time.

"God you're so gorgeous, Harry," she whispers in his ear and he moans in reply, nuzzling his cheek into her lips. "Your cock feels so good in my hand, so hot and hard."

"Shit, feels so good Taylor," he moans, his hands fisting in the sheets and his hips rocking up into her tight grip. "Don't stop, please..."

Taylor smiles against his cheek, tightening her fingers in his hair and tugging gently, causing him to gasp out, his cock twitching delightfully in her palm. "Not gonna stop. Never gonna stop. I'm yours, baby, all yours."

"Fuck, Taylor...God, I'm close, baby," Harry pants out. "You make me feel so good, you drive me crazy...oh god..."

Something about the sound of him falling apart for him is intoxicating, it makes her feel bold and confident in ways she's never felt before "Yeah, gonna come for me, Harry? Make a mess for me?"

"Ahh, yeah, gonna come, fuck-" Harry cuts off, his mouth falling open in a silent moan, his stomach spasming and thighs tensing as Taylor pumps him harder and faster. Then, he's crying out her name and she surges forward to claim his lips as he comes, his cock jerking as he spills all over his abs. She gently coaxes him through his orgasm, kissing him with slow, hot, messy kisses until he pulls away panting, kissing her nose and then pressing his sweaty forehead against hers.

"Mmm. Fuck, Taylor. That was amazing, baby," he says, running his hands up and down the soft, bare skin of her back and sides. "However, I'm running seriously late now," he says, pressing another peck to her lips and then moving her off of him.