It’s been a long day; the water jets from the shower are massaging the aches and tension from your shoulders. Your eyes are closed in bliss; small smiles tugging at your lips as your worries disappear down the drain.
Harry: You look beautiful.
You snap your eyes open and stare at him through the glass. His eyes are dark, wanton and hooded and you feel your breath catch at the intensity. The air is thick with steam, and now desperation has been added to the mix. You are aware of every water droplet hitting against you. How they run in rivers along your skin; and you are acutely aware of Harry’s mossy green stare following them.
Harry: I am jealous of the shower.
You: Why?
Harry: It’s too close to you.
Normally you’d smile at his cheesy comments, but the way he is biting on his lip makes your breath hitch instead. You watch as slowly he pulls his tee shirt from his body; his stare only breaking from yours as the material passes over his head. His curls bounce as he drops it to the floor. Long fingers that know how to work your body effortlessly unhook the button of his fly, and he shrugs his jeans and boxers down his legs, leaving them to pool at his feet. He is hard. Achingly so, it appears. The head glistening with pre cum and your mouth waters in anticipation.
Harry: I want to be that close.
He steps into the shower, and you instantly back against the wall. The tiles are cool against your burning skin, and it draws a sharp hiss from you. Harry stands before you; there is no noise from either of you; just the thundering of the shower as it explodes against the plastic basin. Slowly he approaches you, his cock pressing into your lower stomach as he captures your lips with his. At first, the kiss is soft, tender almost, and your hands wind into his hair that’s dampening by the second. Then; he draws your lip out with his teeth, his fingers that were resting on your hips dig in, hooking into your flesh and ramming you against him hard. His tongue takes dominance in your mouth; weaving with yours and electing a groan from your lips as one hand releases its hold and slides between your legs. His thumb rubs over your clit, and sub consciously you rut against his hand, the speed increasing as he inserts one finger, followed by a second. His thumb still working your clit. You can feel the pressure of your orgasm approaching; your tongue is heavy in his mouth as coherent thought begins to leave. Then, as the sparks of white begin to dance behind your lids, he stops. A whimper slides past your lips and your eyes shoot open, breaking your contact with him. There is a smirk dancing against his mouth but it’s dark and this is the Harry you love. The teasing kind. The one that makes you weak. Effortlessly he picks you up; your legs wrapping around his waist, a perfect fit – like a puzzle and he slides into you; painstakingly slowly. You try to jerk your hips; but his laughs between your kisses at your desperation. Then without any warning; he rockets into you. Your back meeting the wall hard. His feet struggle to find purchase on the wet floor; but he manages – continuing his fast, relentless pace. It doesn’t take long for your orgasm to take you; and you unashamedly scream his name, nails gripping at his skin as he fucks you through it. With hot breath you begin to whisper in his ear; filth falling from your lips that makes him keen and whimper; then he shudders against you. A feral cry escaping his lips. You feel his heat fill you; and you press your lips against the pulse point on his neck. Tightening your hold on him.
Harry: I think I got closer.
He slides out of you, as you chuckle. Then, he hands you the soap and turns his back on you. Rolling your eyes, you begin to soap him – knowing full well you won’t be leaving the shower anytime soon.
