When He Holds Your Hand

After a lot of research and worrying what Harry would like, I found a hotel in London close to the Thames that was out of this world beautiful. I sent a link to Harry and he simply replied,

**“Two nights. Make sure you’re free.”*

My stomach fizzed at the idea of spending two whole nights with him; we’d managed a whole night once or twice but it usually involved one of us leaving early. I was worried a little that he would wear me out but I guessed there were worse things to worry about, like what I was going to tell Will.

His mood had improved since our disastrous meal; he was kinder and made it very clear that he was embarrassed and hugely apologetic for his behaviour. I accepted his apology and asked that it be forgotten, for whatever reason he’d lashed out was now done with and I was willing to move on.

The hotel was so grand that I felt bad for choosing it:
lots of marble and mirrors and the kind of opulence that made me feel cheap for using it as a place to meet my young lover.

Harry had taken care of everything but at the last minute informed me he would be a little late. I was already in the taxi en route so had no choice but to collect the keys and check in for us. My heart raced as I approached the beautiful, model like receptionist who I was convinced could see the huge ’I’m Here For Casual Sex With My Pop Star Lover’ sign I felt I was wearing, but instead of being treated like a whore she was lovely, and helpful, understanding completely that Harry was late so I would be dealing with things until he arrived. As far as she was concerned I was one of his team, maybe even the person who booked the room to begin with.

I was shown to my room then left alone to wait for Harry, relieved now that he wasn’t here as I wandered around the place gasping and repeating the word ’fuck!’ over and over at the sheer size and grandeur of the suite he had chosen.

It was twice the size of the apartment Rose and I shared with two other girls whilst I worked in Ibiza and it was where Harry and I would call home for the next two nights.

I’d almost asked Rose for an alibi if Will rang looking for me, but he was away on a business trip with Terry so hopefully I would be the last thing on his mind as wined and dined prospective clients. Once more I wasn’t sure if I should tell Rose about Harry and me; she was understanding but she had my best interests in mind and knew how catastrophic it would be if Will ever found out, which I appreciated but I didn’t want to hear it–my mind was on Harry and little else.

I was admiring the view over London when I heard a knock on the door. My heart sped up and it took me everything not to sprint to answer, flinging the door open and pouncing on Harry before he could say hello. Instead, I walked calmly, taking measured steps down the hallway to the door.

Harry, as always, looked phenomenal: black jeans, white tee and a long black coat. He was carrying a hold-all and sunglasses in one hand and a large bouquet of flowers in the other.
“Hello, you” I greeted him, realising that he was becoming truly familiar to me and, while my heart leapt and my stomach swirled at the mere mention of his name, I was growing comfortable around him.

“Hello to you too,” he walked into the suite and looked around. “Very nice! I’m impressed; you have good taste, Mrs. French.”

I shut the door to distract from the mixed emotions that I felt at him calling me Mrs. French: one being highly aroused and the other guilt that I was cheating on my husband once more.

“Didn’t you look at the w…” I was cut off as Harry dropped his bag and the flowers to the floor and grabbed me by the waist, pulling me hard against his body and kissing me. It took a second to catch up but I welcomed his advances, sliding my tongue between his lips and wrapping my arms around his neck. He reached up to hold my hand, pushing them down and spinning me around, “..ebsite?” I muttered, dizzied by Harry’s naught to sixty behaviour.

“No,” he whispered, kissing my neck while one hand slid around my waist to pull me even closer to him and the other concentrated on unbuttoning my blouse, “I trusted you.”

“Hello to you too”, I moaned as his fingers teased a nipple over the thin silk fabric of my bra.

“We’ve already said hello”, his voice was hot on my skin, the husk was low and hungry. I felt a chill run through me at the idea of the things his voice promised.

“Guess I’m not here to chat,” I said as I turned back to face him, pressing my lips against his and finding a strange comfort in them, confirming that I’d started to grow used to the way they felt and tasted. I daren’t allow myself to think it, but I’d missed him more than I thought.

“We can talk later,” Harry muttered, unbuttoning my top completely and sliding it off my shoulders. “I’ve waited weeks to finish what I started at the premiere.” The skirt came off next and once again I was in a hotel room with Harry, stood in nothing but my underwear and heels. I should have just answered the door naked and saved us both the time.

“I was hoping you were going to say that.” I kissed him deeply, the mention of our last meeting bringing back how much I’d wanted him that night. He held my body tight against him, and I could feel the already full erection in his jeans against my leg. I ran my free hand over it, delicately tracing the outline with my fingertips, and got a satisfied groan from Harry against my lips.

Our kisses were hungry as I pulled him down onto the floor, too impatient to make it to the bedroom. He broke free of my mouth to kiss my neck, biting and sucking just enough to not leave any visible marks, while his hands unfastened my bra. He pulled one of the cups down to expose my breast and wrapped his lips around it, causing me to gasp as he swirled his tongue around my nipple.

I held my breath and prayed for good lighting as Harry ran his tongue down my slightly soft and plump stomach, stopping once he reached the silk waistband of my underwear. My skin tingled beneath Harry’s touch as he slid my panties down my thighs and removed them completely. I was glad that Harry didn’t tease me; he spread my legs, lay down on his front and put his mouth on my aching pussy.

I bit down on my hand to stifle the moans I couldn’t suppress. His tongue parted my moist lips and circled my clit, flicking at it rhythmically. My hips rolled against his mouth–I needed to cum more than I needed air.

“Faster”, I whimpered, realising he was enjoying taking his sweet time, “please, Harry.”
Harry placed a hand on my hips to stop them moving as best as he could. I complied as much as it pained me, I even whined slightly. The hand on my hip dragged its way down my inner thigh, causing me to shiver and goose pimples to cover my skin.

One finger slid inside me and then a second; Harry slowly, painfully slowly, buried his fingers into me. His mouth was hungrier now, his tongue lapping at my swollen clit pushing me closer to coming undone.

I could feel his finger tips against my sweet spot and I knew that when I came it would damn near destroy me. I had denied myself any orgasms since the plans were made to meet so every move he made was torture as he teased and played, tongue slowing its pace before speeding up and sending be further to the edge.

“Harry, I’m going to cum.” I was breathless, my cheeks flushed and muscles already tired. He gave a small laugh which I felt vibrate against my nerve endings.

I arched my back and pressed my entire lower body down onto Harry’s fingers as he began to move them in and out.

“Cum for me, babe.” It was a simple request, but as he continued to eat me hungrily, his words were my undoing.

My hand flew to my mouth again as Harry brought me to an orgasm that was so intense my whole body shook; I worried, as was always the case with him, that my cries would be heard through the entire building, or even out on the street.

Notes