George Harrison Imagines

Who Needs Tights? - Part 2

I stare hard at the kettle, nearly jumping out of my skin when George places his hand on my forearm.

I turn to face him, my cheeks still burning from the peep show I accidentally gave him earlier.

I shyly look up into those deep, dark eyes, surprised at the unfamiliar glint.

His plump lips part as he glances down at mine, his grip on my arm tightening.

It seems as if he's asking permission. I lick my lips as my eyes fall to his. A silent yes.

George presses his body roughly into mine. My lower back hitting the edge of the counter making me grunt.

"Hop up, love..." George growls, and I follow his instruction immediately.

His hands tangle in my hair roughly, those dark eyes roaming my face for a moment before he slams his lips into mine.

I hum as his lips work expertly against my own. The softness a wonderful contrast to his rough hands wandering down to the buttons on my blouse.

I swipe my tongue along his bottom lip, wanting to taste him further.

He obliges immediately. His tongue meeting mine as his fingers begin to work my buttons loose.

He pushes the fabric from my shoulders and reaches behind me to release the fasteners on my bra.

Suddenly the kettle starts screaming that it's contents are boiling and ready.

Not unlike how the two of us are currently feeling.

George quickly silences the kettle and turns the stove off before quickly striding back to me.

Without a word he unbuttons my skirt, yanking it off in once quick pull.

This time when he sees my knickers, instead of that adorable blush from earlier, he licks his lips and removes them just the opposite he removed my skirt.

Maddeningly slowly.

He runs the soft silk through his fingers appreciatively before pocketing the garment.

I raise my eyebrows, but before I can say anything he tilts my chin, lips nearly touching mine and says, "consider this a token of your gratitude...."

His lips finally capture mine again. His deceivingly strong arms pulling me tightly to his chest.

My wish from earlier being fulfilled as his leather rubs against my bare skin, making me shudder.

"Mmmmmmmm.....you've got too many clothes on still...." I say airily, my mind spinning with the need to feel just him.

He gives me a crooked grin as he shrugs his jacket off and slings it over a chair at the table.

He yanks his shirt over his head, his quiff unmoved by the action.

He come back over to me, parting my legs just so and standing between them.

"Wrap 'em tight..."