Devil's Desire [h.s.]

Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Harry and I didn't make it to bed until well after 4 a.m.

It was very hard to find time to sleep when you were otherwise pre-occupied. Harry was insatiable, to say the least. Apparently after having let things go bottled up for so long, there was no stuffing a cork back in it and walking away.

He was everywhere. Hands all over me, mouth uttering words that I was sure at times weren't even entirely coherent, fingers drifting beneath my hip and pressing me onto my stomach. A sharp puff of his breath against my shoulder blade as he parted my legs with his knee and pushed back into me, helping to arch my hips slightly off the bed to accommodate him.

Then he was talking again. Always talking. Pressing kisses down my spine while his own hips moved, telling me how good I was, how much he loved me, how he would always take care of me if I'd let him. Mouthing at the base of my neck and curling his hand over my throat, refusing to let go as he let his chest go flush against my back.

We fucked three times before he was helping me to the bathroom on shaky legs, dropping to his knees on the tiled floor the moment we'd entered, tongue cleaning up the remains of what he'd left behind between my thighs—fingers threaded through mine the entire time.

By the time he'd somehow coaxed me into a bath, curling me to his chest, I was in a bit of a daze. I was tired, thoroughly sexed, but also somehow needing more of him. Just finding myself wanting to be closer to him however possible.

As he quietly scrubbed my skin clean, I could still feel him trembling.

"You need to rest more," I said, drawing my fingers back and forth over the surface of the water.

"I rest."

Harry made a noise of objection and planted his hands on my shoulders when I tried to turn around to face him, but I eventually managed to wriggle free. We'd been in here for the better part of a half hour already and he'd been gently washing me the entire time. Small waves lapped against the edge of the tub when his eyes met mine.

"Sleep," I clarified, hugging my legs to my chest. Harry leaned forward and braced a chin on one of my knees, his hand on the other. We were so close that our noses nearly brushed. "Hm? Remember what that is?"

His eyes searched my face for a moment then he ducked forward to kiss me. Once, lingering and deep, then a second and third time, quick and chaste. "I get plenty of sleep," he mumbled against my lips.

"Don't lie to me," I chastised. "I'll bite you."

Harry barked out a laugh and leaned his cheek on my knee. "You'll what? Did you just say you'll bite me?"

"I—" I found myself grinning at his reaction, the pad of my thumb drawing up unconsciously to scrub at what looked to be a spot of ash on his neck, "—I dunno. I'm... tired. I panicked. Maybe, yeah. Actually, I meant it. I will bite you."

"Mm, try again," Harry said and gave my waist a sharp squeeze beneath the water, "give me a threat that doesn't turn me on."

"Harry," I breathed. "I'm serious. Really. You don't take care of yourself like you should. You stay up all hours of the night, hardly eat or drink anything during the day, and work yourself into a stupor over me. As much as I appreciate it, it's not healthy. I hate when I finally do see you rest and you're near-dead to the world for hours at a time because you've let your exhaustion grow to the brink of a burnout." I took one of his shaky hands in mine, fingers tracing over his, as I went on. "Seriously. Please?"

When I glanced up, Harry was staring at me, his face bright. He was adorning a broad smile as he waded through the water to part my legs and slot himself between them. "My sweet girl." He cupped my face in his hands and kissed my cheek. Followed by my other. And then my forehead, my nose, my— "always—" kiss, "—takin'—" kiss, "—care of me—" kiss, kiss, kiss.