Trace

Chapter 26

Harry presses his soft lips to mine.  

"I love you."

I smile at his words and kiss him back. I know that Harry could tell that I was nervous; perhaps he was just pretending to not hear my pounding heartbeat.

I can't tell if Harry's anxious or not when he continues his move to lay us downward. I give him a reassuring smile when his torso meets mine.  

"Please," he whispers, "tell me if I hurt you and I promise I will stop."

He kisses me once more before lining his length to my now throbbing entrance. It seems to be an eternity before Harry slowly makes his way inward, and I gasp for air at the foreign feeling. Harry moans loudly and continues to push himself into me. I squeeze my eyes closed as they begin to water with tears. I don't dare to tell Harry that he's causing me so much pain, because I know he is enjoying this and I don't want to ruin our moment together in complete unity.  

Above me, Harry makes small, gentle thrusts. His eyes are closed, but for a much different reason than mine was. He's moaning and groaning- his face reflects such a great pleasure as he grunts my name quietly.  

When Harry deepens himself further, I whimper out loud, then curse myself for doing such a thing.  

Harry's green eyes open and widen when he sees my obvious discomfort.

"Baby, I'm so sorry. I'll stop this."

He wipes my tears with his hand, and begins to pull himself from inside of my body.

"No," I protest. "Go on. It will get better."

Harry shakes his sweaty head. "Babe, I can't do this. I don't want to hurt you like this," his raspy voice whispers.  

I lean my neck up to kiss him. When our lips meet, I intentionally deepen the kiss to make passion burn like fire. Harry's throaty groan vibrates to my tongue and I rub my hand through his wet hair. My breasts meet to his damp chest and I make sure to push them up against his body. Against his will, Harry's body begins to shake a little and I didn't think it was possible, but his penis hardens even more inside of me- causing me to moan softly. He falls back down onto me- sending his penis deep into my body. Even though I know I'm victorious in getting him to keep going, I can't help but cringe in pain a small bit.  

"Sorry, love." he murmurs into my neck.

"I'll take it really slow for you, and just hold my hand please," he seems to plead with me.

I take hold of his hand and tell him to go on. I know it must be difficult for Harry to do the sex slowly- as his body is used to fast and hard.

Each thrust Harry makes turns the pain a little more to pleasure, and soon I'm feeling such a feeling of sexual excitement that I must contain myself from shouting out in ecstasy.

Harry's muffled grunts are heard from above me, and I moan for him to go faster. He ignores me at first, but when I meet up with his torso when he moves down, he relents.

Both breathing hard and heavy, Harry shouts when I wiggle and groan beneath him. I dig my nails into his back and toss my neck back. Harry's face falls into my neck, his hot breath moistening my skin.  

"I'm...almost...there," I gasp aloud, urging Harry to move deeper into me.

Unfortunately, Harry still makes his thrusts too slow for my sexual likings, as I'm experience effects of my high and need his thrust to be quick and hard.

He thrusts himself deep into me- deeper than ever before- and I release a cry as a wave of pleasure rushes over and through my body. Never in a million years did I imagine this type of pleasure and sensation. Harry shouts profanities as he does the same, deep thrust again. I wrap my arms around him, willing for him to go deeper- and I yell his name when he fulfills my horny wishes.

My orgasm is hyped and my body shakes underneath of Harry. My legs quiver and Harry's thrusts turn sloppy then slow again; he soon crashes onto me.

***************** 

HARRY'S P.O.V

I roll off of her and wrap an arm around her sweaty body. El then begins to giggle quietly.

"What?" I ask her, still trying to catch my breath.

"That felt better than I ever thought it would." 

Feigning offense, I give her a hurt look. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, Harry. You know what I meant."

I chuckle and kiss her neck. What we just did- was the best sex of my life. Never before did I take part in such a passionate and love-filled experience. My heart now burns and beats for El. Somehow, she has taken over my life. Day by day, hour by hour, it is her. She is the one. She captured my whole world and now I know and am certain that there is no turning back.  

I watch the steady rise and fall of her chest and gaze into her dark eyes.

I take her small hand into mine and pull her body closer to me. I study her features. I begin to think of what she sees when she looks into the mirror everyday. I picture her tussling her hair in a way to make sure it lies perfectly on the right side of her shoulder. She probably gets aggravated when it gets a bit puffy or frizzy. I imagine her applying her makeup. Honestly, I really don't think she needs any. Thankfully, I believe she recognises that, too, for she only applies a small amount each day, which preserves her natural beauty. I picture her putting on her close and frustrating herself over the perfect outfit. Or maybe she studies her naked body in the mirror, unsatisfied with her curvy form. This hurts my heart a little, because she is in no way "fat" or "chubby". Actually, she's skinny in a very healthy way. Her torso has gentle curves which I crave and her legs are cute and not the longest. Obviously she's very short, but I don't mind. It gives me a definite advantage and some sort of protection over her.  

I notice very small freckles on her cheeks. Though they are only a few, I figure they are the type of freckles that disappear during the winter. I direct my gaze to her lips. They are in fact the softest lips I have ever kissed and are a soft pink. Again I look at her beautiful, big brown eyes and it is then I catch her staring back at me. My heart overflows with an indescribable feeling of love and desire. It makes me want to hold her and touch her and to remind her that she is mine everyday for the rest of my life. 

I feel her dainty fingers begin to trace up and down my arm. Her eyes are both flirty and full of lust, but somehow maintain that soft innocence about her. While she's tracing her fingers against my skin, I begin to wonder of how she feels about me.  

Unlike earlier today, I no longer doubt that she doesn't love me. However, I am unsure of what she thinks of me after we have made love. I find myself drifting to thoughts that she loves me less because of my performance and I worry that she didn't like it as much as I did- though she had made a point to tell me that it had felt good. I still am thinking about her not loving me as much when I am interrupted by her brown-eyed gaze at me.

"What is it?" I attempt to hide my worry that I have done something wrong.

She gives me a warm smile. "Oh, it's nothing," she says quietly, "I was just thinking of how much I love you."