Higher Feeling

so blue without you

"I don't like watching you get dressed," Harry grumbled from his side of the bed. I was sitting on the end of our bed, pulling on a pair of leggings to wear on my flight to Copenhagen. Harry crawled down the length of the king sized bed. His arm wrapped around my torso and he pulled me backwards until I was lying on my back. "Don't go tonight. I'll get you a flight in the morning."

"And we'll have the exact same conversation in the morning, because the real problem is you don't ever want me to go."

Harry rolled so he was on top of me and I sighed at the delightful feeling of his weight covering me. Truth be told, I didn't want to go without Harry. But it wasn't logical to travel together all the time. Not when our workloads were so demanding; especially Harry's. He was needed in the London office for contract negotiations on a key acquisition and I had to fly to Denmark to meet with a furniture maker.

"Never want to be away from you," Harry said, punctuating each word with a kiss. "But definitely not when strangers are sending you knives and death threats."

"I'll be safer in Denmark than in London, Lapka. Besides, I'm taking the small army of security you have shadowing my every move and I'll be gone 24 hours."

A fourth security person had been added to my close personal detail after the incident at the cafe. I didn't even know the specifics of the long range, blended detail. I didn't want to know. I wanted the security, understood the necessity, but I still felt suffocated.

"I haven't said goodbye properly, yet," Harry said against my stomach, kissing his way downward until he was positioned between my thighs. The leggings I got halfway up my legs were torn back down and thrown on the floor.

"Really?" I asked breathlessly, anticipation building as Harry's tongue ran down my inner thigh. "Then what were the three orgasms this afternoon?"

"A warmup. I want to kiss you goodbye the right way."

"My lips are up here."

"That's not a proper goodbye kiss."

"Harry, my flight," I protested weakly, watching his head get closer and closer to where I was aching for him.

"It's a private plane, Angel, it leaves when you are ready."

"Oh, Jesus," I cried when Harry's mouth closed over my clit, his teeth grazing lightly over the bundle of nerves. I threw my head back and stared at the ceiling, wishing Harry's tormentingly slow pace would pick up. Waves of pleasure roll through me, the pressure already starting to build. I still hadn't come down from the orgasm I had an hour ago. Everything was overly sensitive, every part of my body zinged with the need to release.

I moaned Harry's name when he slid three fingers inside me, curling them upwards at just the right time. There was something about being with someone so long; they knew your body so intimately because they had explored every inch of it and they knew how to get the reaction they were looking for. I was a violin, and Harry played me with expert precision.

Harry brought me to climax swiftly—knowing if he took too long I'd never get there because my worry about catching my flight would mess with me—and I lay in bed, trying to catch my breath while Harry lay beside me with a smug grin on his face.

"You'll sleep well tonight, now."

"Wanker."

"I will be tonight," Harry replied.

I whacked his chest and sat up. The room spun a little and I waited a moment before I got off the bed to find my leggings. Harry stayed where he was while I got dressed and threw the last few bits and pieces into my overnight bag.