One Direction One Shots 2

Lips (Harry)

"YOU KEEP STARING AT MY LIPS, BABY.”

I CAN’T HELP IT; I KNOW I AM. IT’S LIKE HIS HANDS. I KNOW WHAT THEY’RE CAPABLE OF; WHAT PLEASURE THEY CAUSE WHEN THEY WANDER ALL OVER MY BODY. THE WAY HE TOUCHES ME, THE WAY HIS PERFECTLY LONG FINGERS TEASE ME UNTIL I’M QUAKING, CALLING OUT HIS NAME SO LOUDLY THAT THE WHOLE APARTMENT COMPLEX CAN HEAR.

IT’S AN OBSESSION, AND IT LEAVES ME WONDERING WHAT THOSE PERFECTLY PLUMP, FULL PINK LIPS CAN DO. HOW THEY WOULD FEEL TRAVELLING UP AND DOWN MY JAW, DOWN MY NECK, SUCKING AND RUNNING HIS BUBBLEGUM TONGUE OVER MY COLLARBONES UNTIL MY FINGERS ARE LOCKED INTO HIS CURLS.

A LIGHT MOAN LEAVES MY LIPS INVOLUNTARILY AND A SLY SMIRK SPREADS ACROSS HIS FACE. “(Y/N).”

“YEAH?” I ASK, CONCENTRATING ON THE WAY HIS LIPS MOVE AS HE PRESSES HIS GLASS OF LIQUID TO HIS MOUTH, THE WAY HIS ADAM’S APPLE BOBS WHEN HE SWALLOWS. MY EYES FLICKER TO HIS, WATCHING IN FASCINATION AT THE WAY HIS GREEN EYES LIGHT UP WITH A SILENT LAUGH.

“WHAT ARE YOU THINKING ABOUT?”

“NOTHING,” I TELL HIM, GENTLY PATTING HIS FINGERS WITH MINE BEFORE I WALK AWAY TO DISTRACT MYSELF, TALKING WITH FRIENDS. HE MOVES OFF TO HIS OWN CLIQUE ACROSS THE ROOM, BUT I CAN HEAR HIS VOICE THROUGH THE SEA OF PEOPLE.

I TURN TO WATCH HIM, MY EYES LOCKED ON HIS LIPS AS HE TELLS A STORY. HIS LIPS POUT AS HE SAYS THE WORD ‘US’ AND I HAVE TO FIGHT BACK A GROAN AS HE SUCKS HIS BOTTOM LIP BETWEEN HIS TEETH, DRAWING THE BLOOD AWAY FROM THE SURFACE OF THE SKIN.

TAKING A HARSH SWIG OF THE REST OF MY CHAMPAGNE, I DEVOTE MY ATTENTION BACK TO KATE, WHO’S TALKING A MILLION MILES AN HOUR ABOUT SOMETHING I CAN’T CONCENTRATE ON. I’M TOO BUSY IMAGINING HARRY’S LIPS ON MINE, HIS TONGUE TRACING INTRICATE PATTERNS IN MY MOUTH; BOTH OF OUR MUSCLES DANCING IN AN INTRICATE BATTLE.

THE IMAGE OF HIS LIPS ALL OVER MY TORSO HAUNTS ME FOR THE REST OF THE NIGHT UNTIL I’M SO JUMPY AND EDGY PEOPLE BEGIN TO ASK IF I’M ALRIGHT. “JUST A LITTLE TOO MUCH CHAMPAGNE,” I ASSURE, PATTING ARMS WHILE HARRY SHOOTS ME A KNOWING SMIRK.

HE SAUNTERS OVER TO ME, THAT RIDICULOUS GRIN PLASTERED TO HIS FACE, HIS DIMPLES DRIVING ME TO THE EDGE OF INSANITY. “YOU LOOK LIKE YOU’VE HAVING SOME TROUBLE, BABE.”

I NARROW MY EYES. “CAN WE GO HOME NOW?”

HARRY LEANS FORWARD, CATCHING MY WAIST WITH HIS HANDS. I CAN FEEL HIS LIPS AGAINST MY EAR, HOT AND BREATHY. “I WOULD STAY TO TORTURE YOU SOME MORE, BUT TO BE HONEST, I CAN’T WAIT TO GET MY MOUTH ON YOU.”

MY BREATH CATCHES IN MY THROAT, MY LIPS PURSED TOGETHER TIGHTLY. “WOULD YOU LIKE THAT?” HE ASKS.

“MHM,” I HUM, LETTING HIM TAKE THE LEAD TO GUIDE ME THROUGH THE ROOM TO TELL EVERYONE GOODBYE.

WE RUSH TO HARRY’S RANGE ROVER, IN A HURRY TO GET HOME. THE RIDE SEEMS ENDLESS AS HARRY’S FINGERS TEASE THE ELASTIC OF MY UNDERWEAR BEFORE THEY RUN OVER MY LACE-COVERED CROTCH. HE FINDS MY CLIT AND APPLIES JUST ENOUGH PRESSURE TO MAKE MY HEAD FALL AGAINST THE WINDOW.  

I SEE HIM GRINNING THAT STUPID GRIN AND I WANT NOTHING MORE THAN TO SLAP IT OFF HIS FACE BUT I KNOW I’M POWERLESS. I AM PUTTY IN HIS HANDS AND HE KNOWS IT. BY THE TIME WE MAKE IT TO OUR FLAT, I’M THROBBING AND ALMOST DRIPPING.

HARRY ACTS LIKE NOTHING AS HE SLOWLY MAKES HIS WAY INTO THE COMPLEX, HIS FEET MOVING SLUGGISHLY JUST TO PROVOKE ME. “COME ON, HARRY,” I WHINE AS WE WALK INTO THE ELEVATOR. “DON’T DO THIS TO ME.”

THE ELEVATOR STOPS ON THE SIXTH FLOOR AND BEFORE I CAN EVEN COMPREHEND WHAT’S GOING ON, HARRY PICKS ME UP, CARRYING ME TO OUR FRONT DOOR. HE WRESTLES WITH HIS KEYS TO UNLOCK THE DOOR AS I TEASE HIS NECK WITH MY LIPS; FINDING HIS SWEET SPOT JUST BELOW HIS EAR.