LOUIS’ P.O.V.
“Want the rest, babe?”
Harry holds out the nearly-empty bottle of merlot, waving it in front of my face.
“No, s’okay. You can have it, love.”
I lean over and press a gentle kiss to his lips as he drunkenly pours the remnants of our second bottle into his own glass. He takes a long swig, emptying a quarter of the glass in one go.
“You’ll never learn that you just don’t chug wine, will you?”
I scoot closer to him and end up positioning myself conformably between his legs, my back against his chest.
“Well, boo, the way I see it,” he sets his glass down at the foot of the fireplace, which is heating the room nicely, and wraps his arms tightly around my waist, kissing the back of my neck, “the sooner I finish this, the sooner I can start with you.”
I nuzzle into him and smile, although he can’t actually see my face. It’s not a smile that I can quite control.
“Then, maybe you should hurry up on the rest.”
He tuts at me and reaches for his glass, downing the rest of the dry wine in less than thirty seconds.
“You’re very indecisive. One second it’s wrong of me to chug it and then a few moments later, I’m not drinking fast enough. Good god, Lou, I can’t-“
I spin around and shut his smart mouth up with a messy, controlling kiss.
“Shut up.”
I mumble quickly against his lips without breaking away.
He doesn’t respond with words; rather nodding and letting soft moans transfer from his mouth to mine. The way our noises mesh together reminds me of a song. Everything about us goes well together. Harry’s definitely the melody; the attention-grabbing part that you just can’t miss. I’d consider myself the harmony, complimenting him even though I can be easy to miss. We just work together.
And that’s even more evident as Harry lies back, pulling me along with him onto the soft blanket covering the rug. The way my body fits perfectly with his completely boggles my mind. I can’t say that I’m much of a believer in God, but if a God exists, then he definitely made Harry and I for each other. Maybe it was just fate that we actually met. Maybe that’s why so many people end up in shit relationships. They weren’t lucky enough to find their soul mate. The least I can do is appreciate the fact that I did meet mine and never let him go. I’ll hold onto him until the day I die. Or as long as he’ll let me.
Harry’s arms snake around my waist and his hands splay across my lower back, slipping under my sweats, under which I’m bare. We’re both barely dressed and have been ever since we got back with our food. Harry’s only in briefs and I’m only in a pair of his sweats. He grasps a handful of my arse and kneads his fingers into my flesh. One finger presses dryly against my rim and I hiss into his mouth.
“Sorry, baby. Are you sore?”
I nod, because yeah, I don’t bottom often and I have twice in the past twenty-four hours.
“Wanna top?”
He kisses me again before I can answer, pulling his hands away from my hole.
“No,” I peck his lips again and lean up, “Too tired. We can just keep it simple tonight, yeah?”
Harry rolls us both over so that he’s hovering over my body in front of the fire.
“Of course, sweetheart. Tell me what you want.”
