Two heart's in one home | H.S. | AU

chapter 15

I've had this dream before—many times—and they all start this same way, with Harry's mouth pressed against mine, testing me, teasing me, as I slowly come undone. His hands always grip my waist, pulling me into him, driving the evidence of his lust between my legs.

That must be what's happening now. I'm dreaming.

But his hands aren't on my waist, they're attached to the back of my neck, pulling me so far into our moment that even if I wanted to come up for air, I couldn't. I'm allowed to breathe him. Only him. And as he parts my lips with his tongue, and I get a taste of that velvet against my own, I take my first inhale.

He already consumes my every thought, now he also fills my lungs, overwhelming my senses.

This isn't a dream.

Dreams in no way annihilate my rationale the way this does, not like I had much left anyway. He takes my bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth, and I can't remember why we haven't done this every second of every day since he moved into my apartment.

My hands lift to thread through his hair, yanking on the strands so I can dive deeper into the kiss. This time, he doesn't taste like chocolate. He tastes like honey, slick and sweet, with a splash of desire and a hint of salvation.

I think I've already lost my mind.

But his lips are smooth, his hand is in control of my body, and there isn't a single woman in the world with the power to resist what this man is finally doing to me. I've yearned for it for so long.

Harry pulls back, dragging my bottom lip with him. He doesn't retreat like I fear but keeps me pinned against the wall. His fingers loosen on my neck as he licks the corner of his mouth. "Seems I've revoked the off limits rule you designated for your lips."

The uncertainty he exposed only a minute ago has vanished, leaving a confidence that sucks the moisture from my mouth.

His eyes are dark, focusing on my lips like he's a heartbeat away from devouring me. I should probably consider what happens after we go through with this. Can I separate the physical from the emotional? Will I still be able to catch my heart before it falls? Am I capable of actually handling this?

All are serious questions, but none hold my focus. Not like the pulsing between my legs. "And I'm revoking the no sex rule you designated for our bodies."

His fingertips dig into my neck as his other hand lands on my waistline, pulling me against him. The effect of my words prods against my stomach. "What happened to hell freezing over first?" he asks, nipping at my neck.

His mouth is wet, and so deliciously warm. He's fire and I'm ice and with each bit of contact I melt further under his blaze.

"Didn't you hear? It has." I arch my neck, giving him better access. I fist my hands in his hair. "And I'm talking glaciers and polar ice caps."

He smiles against the column of my neck, making his way to the base of my ear. "I love it when you talk climate change."

My pulse throbs under his tongue, my legs quivering with each pass against my sensitive skin.

"Seems I've found one of your pressure points," he says.

My body rolls against his. The friction of our clothes feels phenomenal, but there are too many layers. This barrier won't do. I need them off.

"Is this when the fun begins?" It comes out as a desperate plea, which he answers with a quick snip of his canines against my tender flesh. Electricity jolts straight to my core.

Pulling his head back, he cocks it to the side, trailing his fingers down my neck and along my collarbone. My breath catches in my throat, his touch raising a trail of goosebumps as it inches toward the top of my tank.