Broken

Chapter 29

I woke up in Harry's bed, feeling so alone even though he was in the same room. He couldn't get any further away from me. His body was so close to the edge of the bed, he would have fallen to the ground if I placed one finger on him. I shimmied closer to him and wrapped my arms round his back, making him jump.

"Sorry," I whispered in his ear.

He turned round to face me, finally letting his feelings take over and touching me. His hand slid up my thigh, eventually resting on my waist. I pulled my fingers through his hair, making him groan sleepily.

"Your teasing me," he moaned.

"Maybe," I said, biting my lip.

He laughed and kissed my neck, turning me over onto my front. His fingers traced his art work on my back, planting little kisses on each bird.

"Do you feel okay?" he asked as I lay on my back again, folding an arm behind my head.

His hand reach down between my thighs, stroking gently. I moaned, wanting the tingling feeling inside me to last forever.

"Better now," I sighed.

His eyes widened and he stopped, sitting on the end of the bed. I pouted, trying to pull him back, "I didn't want you to stop."

He blushed and lay over me, twirling my hair.

"You like it when I touch you like this?" he asked, doing it again.

I breathed a sigh of appreciation, nodding pathetically.

"See, I can't control myself around you."

The embarrassment from yesterday had disappeared, but it still felt like Harry was trying to make it up to me. I knew the fact that I bled freaked him out, which didn't surprise me as it was pretty gross. But it was Harry and I wanted to experience these new things with him.

He rubbed harder, my legs shaking slightly.

"Your touch makes me feel...different," I breathed.

One thing I had noticed about Harry was that he was extremely sweet and sympathetic, but he could play dirty when he wanted to. He confused me but I liked it in a way. I liked the fact that I could feel his love when he touched me, the way he looked at me when I was hurt. It was like he wanted to protect me from the world.

"I want to make it up to you, I want to make you feel good," he said through kisses.

"You've already reached your goal," I said.

He laughed and lay back again, his hair spread all over the pillow. How could he be so perfect so effortlessly?