The Boxer H.S.

The Boxer H.S.

Reads 210
Votes 7
Parts 2

Ongoing8m

Last published Tue, Jul 24, 2018

boxing harry love punk styles

"You're safe with me." He whispers in my ear as we lay in the dark, head on his chest, his arms wrapped around my waist. "I won't let anyone hurt you."

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"Harry." I begged. I fisted the front of his t shirt between my fingers; the sharp pain intensified as his teeth grazed the skin. His breathy laugh fanned over the area as I desperately struggled against the male's hold before he continued to draw blood to the surface. The sensation was somewhat eased with the attention of his soft lips. But Harry wouldn't allow me that comfort for long, nipping hungrily at my neck with his teeth. I gasped when his tongue licked over the newly sensitive skin, planting a few kisses. He blew over the sloppy wet spot, igniting a chill through my entirety. Harry stepped back smirking as I yanked my arm from his large hand. My fingers drifted up to my neck, sucking in a sharp breath when I dabbed over the sore spot. I whimpered in fright as he drew closer. "You're mine now." He spoke in a hushed tone.

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