Notorious

Doomed

                  

It's grabby hands and quick movements and hair pulling and shaky limbs and whispers of, 'fuck' and moans of 'please' and Harry is relentless and I can barely keep up with his movements in this cramped space.

But, god is it hot.

"Fuck, baby, just like that. Oh, god, you feel so good." He groans out, voice husky and out of breath and I raise my hips back up like he said, lowering back down slowly.

The windows have fogged up, concealing our identity, but not what we are obviously doing inside. The rocking we're creating probably doesn't help either, but all I can think about is Harry driving his hips up to meet mine and how he tastes like toothpaste and coffee.

God, I love coffee.

"Why do you taste like coffee?" I breathe, though it turns into a moan when Harry's fingers move up my body to tweak my nipples.

My fingernails scratch down his chest as I disconnect my lips from his, sitting up to continue circling my hips and lifting them up up up and then down down down in various speeds. I swivel my hips slightly, my nerve endings almost completely fried from the electricity.

A low groan rattles Harry's chest and he slide my leather skirt up higher to bunch around my waist so he can grip my bare flesh in his hands. I lean into him slightly, tugging on his hair with one hand and gripping the collar of his shirt with the other, the heat in my belly growing.

"Do you," He pauses to drive up into me suddenly, harshly, hitting that particular spot of mine and causing me to writhe on top of him, "Really want to talk about coffee right now?"

And the way he says it –underneath the lust and urgency in his tone- makes it obvious that he is hiding something.

He leans up to connect our mouths, but as soon as his breath hits my nose and it is plainly the smell of coffee beans wafting around me, I shove him back down by the chest, a winning grin on my lips.

"Have you been drinking coffee?" I ask, still moving against him, but overly giddy at the prospect of this avid tea-drinker coming to the dark side.

Harry rolls his eyes dramatically, chest flushed, and hairline glistening with sweat as he grunts impatiently. He tries to lean up in the reclined seat again, lips aching to touch my own, but I stop my movements altogether, slamming his body back against the leather.

I raise my eyebrows to make it clear I'm not backing down.

"Imighthavestartedtodrinksomeofthestuffyouleftatmyhousepossibly." He mumbles under his breath in a rush, trying to conceal his answer, and I am grinning with devilish delight.

"I'm sorry what was that? I couldn't quite hear you."

"I might have started to have some of the stuff you left at my house the last time you were over, okay?" He slowly rises again and I am too shocked to stop him as he begins to nibble on my neck and shift his hips, "Now... can we get back to shagging, please?  You look way too fucking sexy all hot and sweaty on my lap like this."

Although his words stir the beast inside of me and I let a moan slip when his tongue glides up my neck, I can't let this go just yet.

"I can't believe Harry Styles, tea enthusiast, has been drinking 'jitter juice'? Where is your loyalty, mister? How could you go back on your beliefs so easily? How could-"

"It smelled like you, okay? The tin was sitting on my counter and it smelled like you and tasted like you and so I wanted to try it, alright?" He clears his throat awkwardly –obviously embarrassed- and this has me shutting up instantly, cheeks flushed and heart full, "Now, do you really want to discuss coffee or would you rather...?"