Notorious

Insatiable

In·sa·tia·ble/adjective: (of a person) having an insatiable appetite or desire for something, especially sex.

There is a fire on my lips and a hunger in my veins.

It's anger and frustration and lust and passion and finally, finally succumbing to our desires. It doesn't matter how long Harry's tongue caresses mine or how hard his hands grip the flesh of my hips or how loudly he groans against my mouth.

It's not enough.

Not when I'm falling in love with you and it is fucking terrifying.

His desperate revelation won't stop replaying in my head like a broken record, the terrified and vulnerable look in his eyes as he confessed continues to flash behind my eyelids and only spurs me on to tangle my fingers in his damp hair and tug on it desperately when he captures my bottom lip between his teeth.

He tastes like whiskey and winter and I explore every crevice of his mouth to paint the taste onto my tongue. His movements are aggressive and fueled by the anger produced by our argument, but it's oh so hot.

I know there is still so much to discuss, so much unspoken hurt feelings between us that needs to be sorted through, but all I can seem to focus on is the way Harry's hands are sliding up my hips and exploring the dips in my ribs, until finally tracing the outline of my breasts over the thick velvet material of my top.

"God, Harry."

It's a soft, desperate moan that falls from my lips on accident, but seems to awaken a beast within Harry because a low growl resonates from his chest in response and his palms are sliding down to grasp my bottom harshly.

He picks me up effortlessly, our lips separating with the height difference and allowing me to finally suck in a breath of air as I wrap my legs around Harry's waist, rising up my skirt.

Swollen pink lips, flushed chest, tangled curly locks, and wild stormy eyes. The sight instantly stirs a heat deep in my belly and I waste no time in connecting our lips together again. They spark like fling against steel and I let out a sigh of relief as Harry's hands slide down my thighs. He traces them back up slowly, beneath my skirt in order to grip bare flesh of my ass.

"Fuck," He groans lowly as I separate our mouths and begin to pepper hot, open-mouthed kisses down his neck, "Lace? Thong? You're gonna send me to an early grave."

I smile against the skin of his flushed neck and daringly glide my tongue up the expanse before trapping his earlobe between my teeth, tugging lightly.

He jerks against me slightly from the action and the moan that escapes me is much too loud and much too whiny. Because I can feel him there –hot and unbearably hard, straining against his skin tight jeans.

He continues to kneed the thick flesh of my ass, circling around to caress my hips, my thighs, my-

"Oh my god." I writhe against him as soon as I feel his palm cupping me through my barely-there underwear and I buck up into him as my mouth sucks and nips at the skin below his jaw.

"Keep doing that and I'm going to fuck you up against this door."

And I allow myself the pleasure to imagine him doing just that –not even bothering to tear of my clothes before sweeping my thong to the side and entering me with one hard thrust, making me bang my head against the wall as he-

But, my fantasy is cut short when the wall I was pushed against disappears and I notice that Harry has begun to carry me through the darkness of his flat.

And suddenly we step through a doorway and it slams shut just as he flips a light switch on, effectively blinding me momentarily. I squint at Harry from the sudden light to see his pupils blown out and his eyes wild with desire.