Bad Intentions ↠ h.s.

Chapter Sixteen

The boast of confidence that rose in me once I began living with my new parents, scratch that, Harry was extraordinary. I never thought I'd even be able to speak the first day because of my anxiety with the whole series of events, and it just seemed all so surreal and unbelievable. Months ago we were a normal family, Ashley mainly out of the picture, while Harry and I savaged ourselves. Soon enough he got bored of her and I guess we sort of connected along that time.

I never had a man love and appreciate me like Harry did. Ever. It was strange feeling loved and wanted for once instead of being needed by. I've only ever felt love with my mother while growing up, yet I was too young to process any of it really.

Sure she did love me, but she never showed it. She never showed concern or anything for me and left me to fend for myself since the age of six. Everything was always about men. She put little to no effort into caring for me while growing up, and my father's affair was just adding to the mixture. She was devastated when he left. But even more, she didn't even do anything to fend for me. She would stay all day cooped up in her bedroom, sometimes she wouldn't even come out for weeks, only to use the bathroom and to occasionally eat. She didn't cope well with my fathers disappearance, even though it was a regular thing of him coming home and then leaving once again. My father never showed gratitude or love to me either. He pawned me off at the age of twelve, the year my mother passed, to his friend to do things with or to me to get enough drug money for himself. I was touched at twelve but I didn't no any better, I was still so young. So when Harry does these things to me, it brings a complete wave of emotions to me. But with him it's different. With him, it's consensual and sensual.

The door clicks, and a very wet and dripping Harry enters the hotel room, starting to dry off his hair with a towel messily.

"Damn these are some nice showers," he compliments the area, as a pair of green eyes scope out the area, spotting the belonging bag and soon digging through it. "You'd think they'd kind of be crappy with how the motel looks from outside."

I bite my lip while my eyes scan his back and how his pale skin defines his biceps and upper body, his towel hanging at his waist. "Don't judge a Motel from the outside."

"Right," He replies sarcastically, drawing out the word like warm honey. "I wish you joined me at least."

"Wish I could've too," I say with a small smile while he continues to rummage through his clothes. "but I didn't get an invitation to the party."

He turns around with a pair of black skinny jeans in his hands along with a black t-shirt. "I didn't know it had to be a formal invite. You could have suggested it too, I'd gladly except."

I watch him as he nears the bed I'm laying on, even him talking is enough to make me flush and for my stomach to flutter at an instant. The beds weight dips and before I know it, a freshly cleaned yet so dirty-minded boy is straddling my waist.

"You're dripping your water on me!" I whine, trying to move myself from under his grasp. "It's like niagra falls in here!"

"Shut up, I know you like wet and sloppy in the bedroom, so I'm just adding to the mix," he smirks, dragging his tongue out to lick his lips. "So I'm not really seeing the issue?"

I'm out of control. I'm weak for this bastard.

He takes a grip on my wrists, pinning my arms above my head. "You're missing the point, ding dong."

"Watch you're language missy, or else daddy's going to punish you," he says, knowing just how incredibly unstable I am when I'm around him. I feel when he shifts and comes near my ear, hot breath fanning the sensitive area. "Is that what you need? A hard spanking to knock some humor into you?"