The Thrill Is Gone

There was nothing left. The apartment was as empty as it had been when she’d first come into possession of it, two years earlier. The mattress lay uncovered, stripped of the mattress pad and sheets that had given it new life. The counters were uncluttered, devoid of the fruit basket, toaster and kettle that had been permanent fixtures upon it. The bookcase was completely empty. No Dostoyevsky, no Sophocles, no Kant lined its shelves. There was nothing there. Nothing left of hers. And it would soon cease to be her apartment, and become the property of some other student looking for a place to call home during their time at Oxford. It would be the refuge of some other student, the place where they laughed and cried, and stressed out about exams and term papers, it would come to be theirs. And despite having known all along that it wasn’t actually her apartment, that she didn’t own it, and she would one day have to give it up, she couldn’t help but be saddened at the thought that as soon as she turned in her key to the building manager, she would never step foot there again.

The apartment had been kind to her. It had been the place where she and Harry retreated to for passionate weekends; it was where they first made love, where he’d serenaded her with a mariachi to win her back, that had been their home, the one place in the world where they free to really just be. In there, they didn’t have to worry about what others thought, in there, there was no concern about photographers getting in or knowing what they were up to, it had been the one place they could really call their own, and leaving it was harder than she could’ve ever imagined.

“Do you remember the first time you came over?” she asked Harry in a low voice, her eyes, once again, swimming in tears.

“Of course,” answered Harry from his place behind her. “We’d met at the market. I’d gone off to get some crisps, and then you sort of ran into me there, you’d gone to get your own crisps, and next thing I remember, you mentioned you knew how to make tortillas and I invited myself over.” He paused. “Why did you let me come over? I’ve never asked that.”

“I don’t know.” She answered, honestly. “I guess I was just bored. It worked out though.”

“It did.”

“I still have the note you left me, the one where you scribbled down that I was ace.” She laughed at how lame she sounded. “That’s so lame. Isn’t it? I know it is. I just . . . I don’t know, I thought it was sweet you remembered you were Snow White. We were so gone that night that I didn’t think you’d remember.”

“How couldn’t I remember? You saved my arse that night.” He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her in close until her back rested against his chest. “That was the night I realized you were something special.”

“Was it?”

He nodded. “You were fantastic, the way you took over, and then the next day we were able to spend time together, in here.” He looked around the apartment. “This place was good to us. It’s a pity to let it go, but I reckon that’s just the way things are.”

“But where are we gonna be?” she asked, him, turning in his arms so she could look up at him with her bloodshot eyes. “Where are we gonna meet? At Clarence House?” she asked. “I don’t think it’d be right for me to intrude in your dad’s house every month.”

“Don’t be daft. It wouldn’t be an intrusion. My dad loves you, honest. He’s always going on about how accomplished you are, and how charming. It’s annoying, actually. I reckon he might start saying how I should take a few pointers from you.” Harry joked. “But if you must know, that’s not where we’ll be, when you come to stay.”

“Then where?”

“We’ll be at the flat. His private one in London, the one we’ve stayed at a few times.” Harry informed her. “He said I could have it so long as I'm there when you’re there. That alone speaks of how well he thinks of you. The wanker never let me borrow it before or William, for that matter. But you, he trusts.”

“I'm glad he does.” She whispered. “But I wish we could stay here. I wish I hadn’t chosen Harvard. I . . . I . . .” she started crying again.

“You made the right choice.” Harry assured as he gently rubbed her back. “I might not have been or am particularly thrilled by it, but you did what was right for you. Because bloody hell, you’d worked twelve years to get there, it would’ve been fucking stupid to pass up on it.” He wiped away the fallen tears. “Now come on, we’ve got to hand over the key and get outside. Your family’s waiting on us.”

“My family?” she repeated, her eyes suddenly widening at the thought of them. “Fuck! I completely forgot they were here. Oh shit. Yeah. You’re right. We’ve got to get going. But can we?” she paused taking another look around her apartment. “I mean, ah, it feels like I need another moment . . . okay, maybe not another moment, maybe another five minutes. Five minutes alone. That might be good for me. I don’t . . . I should just go. Right?” she sought confirmation. “I should just go because I'm never gonna be ready to say goodbye to this. And I don’t even know why I'm so sad, I fucking hated the neighbors from upstairs, they were always fucking stomping around, and the people downstairs played music too loud, and it wasn’t even good music, it was shit! I fucking hated how it’d wake me up in the middle of the night when I’d actually managed to get to bed at a decent hour, but despite that, this . . . this was a good home.” She took in a deep breath, willing herself to get it together. “I won’t be like this during our holiday. I promise I won’t. I just had to get this out of my system and now I’ve gotten it out, at least I think I have. So let’s just go before I start up again.”

Knowing very well that despite having said that, she needed help leaving the actual apartment, Harry took her hand in his, and led her out the front door. When he locked it behind them, Paulina jumped a little, the soft click of the lock making her painfully aware of the fact that she had to lock the main lock to keep the apartment safe, and for the last time, she pulled the key out of her pocket, and with trembling hands, placed it in the lock. And just like that, she’d locked the door, just like that, her apartment was no longer her own.

The keys were quickly dropped off with the building manager, and once that was done with, the manager handed her back the deposit she’d made when she first came into possession of the apartment. He’d gone to check out the space earlier in the morning when she told him that she’d finished cleaning, he’d offered to take the keys then and there, but she’d protested, saying she needed a little bit longer to say goodbye, and now that she’d said goodbye, the money was given back to her, and she was free to board the van in which her family had been waiting for Harry and her for the last fifteen minutes.

They went to a local restaurant, Paulina’s favorite breakfast place, and after having eaten their fill; they climbed aboard the bus one last time and drove all the way to London Heathrow Airport. The flight they had to catch left at 4:30 pm and the time difference would allow for them to arrive back in California at 7:30 pm. They had toyed with staying an extra day, with flying out at night, but the truth was, they all wanted to spend Saturday night in California, getting their rest in, and then they’d start about their lives again on Sunday.

So Paulina and Harry drove her family to the airport, they helped with the luggage, and Paulina and Harry made it very clear that the portrait he’d painted her was not to be tossed around, it was fragile and had to be treated as such. Paulina felt bad for having to ask Harry to use his title, she never really asked for that, but she just really wanted the painting to get to California safely, because if it broke, she would lose it. And so the attendant, asked for one of the flight attendants who was to be on duty during the flight, to take the package and place it in the closet they used aboard, when they landed in Los Angeles, it would be handed to her parents, and that way no harm would come to it.

After that was sorted out, all that was left to do was say goodbye, but there were no tears, not from Paulina. She didn’t cry because she knew she was going to be seeing her family in a week and a half, it wouldn’t be a prolonged separation, so as her mother cried, she reassured her that they’d be together soon enough, and after all the goodbyes were said, Harry and her watched them pass through the security checkpoint, and when they could no longer see them, they stepped outside where the press awaited them.

They moved in silence, Harry keeping his arm wrapped around his shoulder, and his other arm raised up in front of him to clear their way, they rushed to the van, and once they drove away, they dropped it off at the rental place where she’d picked it up from. From there, they were picked up by Alistair, whom quickly placed her luggage into the vehicle, and then they were off.

“Where to, güerito?” she asked when they were inside the safety of the vehicle.

“To my dad’s flat.” He answered, buckling himself. “We’ll stay there the night, since we’re meant to have dinner with Wills and Kate. And then tomorrow, we’ll be off.”

“Off where?”

“Somewhere,” he replied with a smirk.

“You do know you’re driving me crazy, right?”

“I am? Well that’s news to me. I mistook your constant questioning as a sign of sanity.” He teased.

“Henry, don’t be an ass,” she whined, fighting back a smile. “Just tell me. Please? Pretty please?” she pressed.

“If please didn’t do it, pretty please sure as hell won’t.”

“Then I’ll just sit here and waste away.” She said, throwing her hand onto her forehead and pretending to faint. “And let the suspense have its way with me!”

“Someone’s feeling particularly dramatic today,” an amused Harry commented. “What happened to moping about? I thought I’d have you spend the rest of the day sulking.”

“I promised I wouldn’t.” She reminded, lowering her arm to better see him. “But if you want me to sulk, I can sulk.”

“No need for that,” he said, hastily. “This works well.”

“Well enough to tell me where we’re going on holiday?” she smiled brightly, hoping he’d cave; she was horrible at waiting for things she was excited for. During Christmastime, her parents always had to hide her presents better than they hid those of her brothers so she wouldn’t get to them. “You should tell me. I feel that you’re so excited about wherever it is we’re going that you want to tell me, but you think it’ll be better if you hold off, but it won’t, because I’ll be stoked either way.”

“Quit being so annoying,” he laughed, a deep, throaty laugh that sent her heart fluttering. “Where it is we’re going, it’ll be brilliant. Not like I’d take you somewhere rubbish.”

“You did take me to that rave.”

“That was one time, and it wasn’t even that bad. You just don’t like that sort of music. It’s not my fault you’ve the musical taste of an old man.”

“Not even. I like some new music. I just don’t like a lot of what’s on the radio. They repeat the same fucking line over and over again, and its auto tuned like there’s no fucking tomorrow. There’s no substance to it. I'm sorry, but I want to enjoy songs, I want to be able to feel what’s being sung about, and the people that are singing should be able to sing live. Because if someone’s going to sound like crap when they sing live, then they’re not legit in my book.”

“Then no one would sound legit then.”

“Loads of people would sound legit. Just not anyone that sings rave music,” she added with a sly smile. “What time are we heading out for dinner?”

“Seven.” Harry answered. “So we’ve close to five hours to ourselves.”

“I'm pleased to hear that,” she said as calmly as she could.

Though in all honesty, she was so much more than pleased, she was thrilled to hear that they’d be all by themselves for five hours. It had been exactly one month since they’d last been together, and she couldn’t wait to feel his weight pressed upon her, to taste the saltiness of his sweat as she kissed the base of his neck in their moment of sweet ecstasy, and more than anything, she couldn’t wait to bask in the glory of it, in the moment immediately following it, in which they would lay tangled in one another, and not speak, not move, just lay still and listen to one another’s ragged breathing. She couldn’t wait to be alone with him, and she would’ve said so, if Alistair hadn’t been there. Harry might have felt comfortable with speaking freely on that subject with Alistair present, but Paulina couldn’t bring herself to do it. Once, she’d tried, but she’d ended up stammering and blushing furiously, she hadn’t been able to get a word out, because it just felt awkward to be talking about sex with Alistair sitting in the front seat.

So since she couldn’t elaborate as freely as Harry would have, she simply said that she was very much pleased, and shot him a telling smile. Harry picked up on the excitement behind her smile, which coupled with the twinkle in her eye made it clear to him that they were both thinking the exact same thing. And wanting to touch her, to feel her skin against his own, he reached over, and took her hand in his, they sat like that throughout the entire drive to the flat, and once Alistair pulled up, Harry grabbed her luggage from the trunk, and told Alistair that he could take some free time, he’d call him later to pick them up.

Knowing very well that he was no longer needed, Alistair bid them adieu, and drove off, leaving the pair to rush up the stairs, Harry holding the luggage in one hand and holding Paulina’s hand in the other. They were both anxious to get inside, so anxious that they didn’t notice the older residents shooting them questioning looks as Harry fumbled to get the key out. He could’ve sworn he’d thrown it into his pant pocket, that was where he usually had it, but it took a lot of feeling around before he remembered that he’d tucked it into the inside pocket of his jacket.

“Found it!” he cried when he remembered the key’s whereabouts.

Quick as he could, he grabbed the key out of his pocket, stuck it in the lock, and turned it until he was able to open the door. He stepped aside, letting Paulina walk in first, and once she was inside, he followed her in, rolling her luggage behind him. The luggage was placed next to the door. It’d be taken upstairs later on, because at the moment, there was only one thing on his mind.

And it was the only thing on her mind as well, because when he turned around, she was standing right behind him, gazing up at his face with such tender adoration, that he felt himself grow breathless. Never in his life did he think he was going to love anyone as much as he did her. Harry had always assumed that love would skip him, that he’d end up being told who to marry, have a suitable wife chosen for him from the aristocracy when he was in his 40s or perhaps he’d be an eternal bachelor since there was no real pressure for him to wed. He didn’t have to produce an heir. He could’ve well been a playboy for the rest of his life. It could have been a life of beautiful models, tending to his royal duties, and never having to answer to a wife. It could’ve been that or he could’ve married a woman that he could respect, a woman who he would highly esteem, though never really love.

Those were the only routes he envisioned his life taking. He never fancied himself the sort that would fall madly for someone. He wasn’t going to be like Wills or any of those other blokes that get swept up in love. It wasn’t for him. Love was something others would have, something they’d keep to themselves and that was fine, it had never appealed to him, love was nice enough in others but he didn’t want to lose himself like others did, but then Paulina came into his life. She came out of nowhere, arriving in a pair of cut off shorts and possessing a mean punch that left him in pain for several days, and his life was never the same.

It might not have been love at first sight, but there had been interest. Despite her having punched him, he couldn’t help but think she’d been pleasant enough. She had a good natured face, and addressed him warmly after having realized he wasn’t the creepy rapist that the news had been talking about. He left the apartment with an interest her, and thought of her from time to time, often with a smile or a chuckle. A few weeks after their initial meeting, fate deemed it necessary to once again throw them into one another’s company, the circumstances were different, there was no punching or sneaking out, they were more dignified, at a public event, and after that run in, they were to find each other in a dark alleyway where they’d turned to smoke out, and after that, in the market, where they’d gone for crisps.

They were brought together time and time again, until Harry was sitting alone in a nightclub, wondering it was she was doing at that exact moment. And it was there, at that very nightclub, where she walked in accompanied by her two friends, it was there that he invited her up for drinks and really started to get to know her.

After that, he was no longer interested in her, because he thought her different, he was interested because she had soulful eyes that he could lose himself in, because she had a laugh that despite being very unladylike, suited him quite nicely, he was interested because she stirred something within him that had never before seen the light of day.

She taught him what it meant to truly love and be loved, what it meant to open oneself to another, to put oneself completely at their mercy, and know that no matter what, that person would never do anything to bring about harm to them. Harry knew in his heart that she’d never do anything to fuck him over. And having her gaze up at him with such adoring eyes, made him realize just how far he’d come in his life, how much he’d grown. He was finally coming into his own person. She believed in him when others doubted, she pushed him to do his best, but it wasn’t because it was in her interest, she wouldn’t get anything out of him doing well, she did it because she wanted him to be happy, to accomplish his goals.

And as he looked upon her face, as his eyes bore into hers, he couldn’t help but give thanks to the universe, to send a few words of gratitude to the God whose very existence he’d denied ever since his mother passed away. For the first time, in a long time, he believed that there was a greater power, that there might be some truth to religion. He couldn’t help but think that God or whoever it was that was up there, whatever force, whatever energy, had decided to take some pity on him and reward him with someone that would challenge him to be better, with someone who was hardworking and driven, and above all else, someone that love him, and that he, in turn, loved and respected.

To him, it felt like an eternity had passed since his gaze had fixed on hers, though in truth it was only a fleeting moment, hardly two seconds had passed since he’d first turned around. There’d only been enough time to lock eyes before she took his face between her hands, and kissed him. There was nothing innocent about her kiss, nothing chaste. It was the sort of embrace that would’ve sent the Queen into a fit had she been there to see it, but she wasn’t there to witness the exchange, no one was, which was exactly why she was so free with her affections, which exactly why she so greedily moved her lips against his, wanting to drink her fill of him, wanting to relish in the intoxicating taste that stemmed from his mouth, wanting to feel his tongue do battle with her own.

Harry instantly reacted to her touch. He kissed her deeply, passionately, and as his lips moved against her own, his hands went to work on her coat, and one by one the buttons were undone until her coat was lying on the ground, a small pile of merlot fabric. With her coat no longer a barrier, he slipped his hands under her shirt, not bothering himself to feel her curves above the thin fabric of her shirt, he wanted to feel her skin on his, the warmth of it, the way it beckoned him closer. He kissed her until her waist and the small of her back were no longer enough for him, and seeing no other option, he broke the kiss, pulling apart only long enough to peel her blouse over her head and send it hurling over his shoulder.

With her heaving chest practically exposed to him, he felt a fresh wave of desire scorch through his very being. The lace bra was no hindrance. It didn’t keep him from growing breathless or put an end to the erection that was becoming unbearable to ignore. The lace bra tempted him, reminded his eyes that it had been far too long since he’d seen the soft flesh, that his hands had not ventured there in over a month, and that his lips had been denied access, but there was no longer anything other than that bra restricting him from running his hands or trailing his lips, there was nothing that kept him from her, and in his trancelike state, he placed a hand on the side of her neck, and pulled her in until his lips were upon hers, they didn’t linger there long, no, there was far too much of her to reclaim. His lips only stayed long enough to rob her of the breath she’d worked so hard to attain, and then they traveled down to her neck, kissing the lightly tan skin with such fervor that her knees began to wobble. He nipped, he kissed, he made the flesh his own, and when the black bra strap became a block on his frenzied journey, he simply yanked it down, causing it to snap off, but they didn’t notice, not at that moment. They were too lost in one another, her body’s responsiveness to his touch had blinded him to the outside world, and all she could think of, was him.

The moment he noticed her breast was spilling out from the torn bra, was the moment Harry lost interest in her neck. The curve of it was nothing to the shapeliness of her breast, they might not have been as large as the ones he had been accustomed to in the past, but they were soft, supple, and the way they warmed up his calloused hand was enough to make him forget that he’d ever seen a pair of breasts before hers. His lips instantly parted in their attempt to take in as much of her as he could, he sucked, and kissed, and all the while, his hand gave the other breasts its attention, kneading and pinching as his mouth reclaimed lost territory, as his mouth retook her rose colored nipple as his own.

Her eyes fluttered as his tongue flicked over her sensitive nipple. He didn’t know what he was doing to her, the effect that one fucking flick had on her entire body. She was his, and every touch, every kiss, every low groan that came from him set her off. She knew that he was trying to please her, trying to be a gentleman about things, every once in awhile he showered her with his undivided attention in the bedroom, but she didn’t want any foreplay, she didn’t want to waste time, they could do that later on, they had an entire week and a half to themselves, countless hours that they could spend indulging themselves, exploring one another’s body, but at that moment, she didn’t want any of that, at that moment she just wanted to feel him buried deep within her, to feel them moving as one, and to have the sweat from his body mix with her own. And desperately needing to stop him from his current path, she took a fistful of his gingery hair into her possession, and yanked him away from her, forcing him to look into her eyes.

“The fuck?” he growled, eyes burning in irritation.

“There’s more to me than just a fucking nipple,” she told him, breathlessly. “Or are you going to waste all your time on it?”

Quick to react, he placed his thumb and index finger on her nipple, squeezing it tightly as he looked up into her eyes. They were beginning to flutter again, he could see her chest had instinctively gone forwards, her breast wanted the attention, the nipples yearned for it, and he wasn’t going to be rushed. He’d waited long enough.

“I’ll have your breasts,” he told her in a low voice, pinching the soft rose bud, lightly. “And then I’ll wander off wherever I fancy.”

She was going to protest. Truly, she was. She was going to keep his head yanked back, press her lips to his, and force him against the wall where she would devour that damn mouth of his. That was exactly what she envisioned happening, but he’d hardly finished speaking before he launched himself at her other breast, ad the nipple that had been aching for him. He wasn’t as greedy as he’d been in the beginning, nowhere near as fervent in his admiration of it. When he’d started, he’d treated her breast as something that would soon be taken from him, he had to have his fill, he had to take as much as her as he could before she was gone forever, he’d been a man starved who’d stumbled into a banquet and wanted to have his fill before he was thrown out, but now, now he comported much like the thrower of such a banquet would, he was determined to enjoy every moment, to not rush things, because after all, it was his banquet, and nothing would possibly hurry him along.

So he took his time, went about his movements at an unrushed pace. Her body beckoned him to hurry up, the labored breathing and slight moans made it perfectly clear to him that she wanted more, needed more from him, but Harry remained unaffected. He was going to take his time, especially after she’d told him to pick up the pace, and it wasn’t a necessarily easy task for him to do, not when wearing jeans was becoming an unbearable burden, but he did it simply because he wanted to madden her with pleasure. He wanted her to cling to his body in desperation, to have her cry his name so loudly that the neighbors would hear.

The pleasure overwhelmed Paulina. She wasn’t going to be able to take things slow, to savor the moment the way Harry intended them to. He was barely using his lips on her and she was already melting into his touch, already becoming undone and as sweet as his lips were, as talented as they could be, she needed more from him. Foreplay was well enough, on most days it was a true treat, but at that moment, despite the pleasure that stemmed from his lips and hands, her body craved more.

And he knew. He knew by the way she arched her back. He knew by the way she ran her hands through his hair and moaned his name softly. All that let him know she was ready, but he wasn’t. It wasn’t until she dropped a hand from his shoulder, and began to massage him through his jeans that he realized just how incredibly daft he was being in prolonging the moment, it wasn’t until he ached for her to slip her hand beneath his boxers and jeans that he became as flustered as her.

A strangled moan rumbled out of him as she grew more aggressive in her treatment of him, her hand slipped beneath his jeans, all that kept her from him was the fabric of his boxers, and before he could even realize what it was he was doing, he pulled away from her breast, shot up into his upright position, and after crouching down just a bit, slung her over his shoulder.

“Henry!” she cried in delight. “Put me down, you oaf!”

“Can’t do that!” he shouted as he began to run up the stairs.

“Don’t you fucking run up the stairs with me!” she ordered. “Henry – Henry, put me down! You’re gonna drop me.”

“Like hell I am!”

He ran up the stairs with ease, and as soon as he reached the landing, he took off in a sprint towards the bedroom they were meant to stay at. With his free hand, he fumbled to open the door, completely ignoring Paulina’s demands to be put down, and when the door finally opened, he kicked it so it would open all the way and then charged the bed.

“What’s gotten into you?” asked Paulina as her hair fell into her face, the dark curls keeping her from seeing anything other than the floor and Harry’s trousers. “One moment you’re taking your sweet fucking time and now you’re –”

She didn’t get to finish her statement, because just as she was getting around to telling him that he was acting like a maniac, he tossed her onto the bed. The bed wasn’t far from where he was standing, just about a foot, and she flew through the air rather gracefully, it was the landing that was a disaster. The once neatly made bed was immediately ruined, the force of her impact drew the sheets and comforter towards the middle, and some of the pillows were knocked over. And Paulina, oh, well she wasn’t much better. Her hair was completely in her face, keeping her from seeing anything other than a curtain of dark brown curls.

Quick as she could, she brushed her hair out of her face, and when she was finally able to look out in front of her, she was greeted by a most inviting sight. Harry was standing at the foot of the bed, fumbling with his shirts. He’d already unfastened the top buttons on his dress shirt to let him yank it over his head, but there was another shirt left to deal with. He always wore a plain white t-shirt under his shirts, even if it was another t-shirt, he felt uncomfortable otherwise, so he hastily untucked his shirt, and it wasn’t long before he grabbed hold of the white fabric, and began pulling it over his head, taking with it the dress shirt that he’d been parading around in all day.

As he yanked the shirts off, he exposed his toned abdomen, putting on full display the muscles that had been becoming more and more defined since his training began. Harry had always been a fit man. The years of polo and rugby had treated his body well, leaving it tone and worthy of envy, but it had never been as muscular as it was at that moment. He was in possession of a six pack, the contours of it demanding attention whenever his shirt was off, and his hip bones were more prominent, they stood out like Michael Phelps’ or some other swimmers. His body had been taken to another level, it embodied the masculine ideal without being overly muscular, and the very sight of it was enough to hypnotize Paulina, and she stared shamelessly at him, she admired every contour, every inch of him. He was hers, and she was going to have him until she couldn’t take him anymore.

Unwilling to just sit by and watch him strip himself, she scooted towards the edge of the bed, and reached out for him. Her fingers curled around the top of his jeans, holding on tightly, and then, when his gaze met hers, she pulled him towards her, only stopping when he was standing between her legs. She let go of the jeans and placed her palms on his stomach, letting them trail upwards, explore the toned abs that his arduous physical training had endowed him with. Her hands didn’t explore very long, there’d be plenty of time for that later on. They only lingered long enough to become reacquainted, and then they travel back to the top of the jeans, to that damn button and zipper that needed to be done away with.

Harry watched intently as Paulina unbuckled his pants, and when her fingertips gently grazed his skin, he found himself biting down on his lip as his body lurched forward wanting to have her touch even more of him. She didn’t waste time unzipping his jeans, unbuttoning them had been enough, and all she was left to do was tug them down along with the boxers.

“I should tease you,” spoke Paulina in a low, lust filled voice. “Pay you back for torturing me downstairs, but the thing is I'm not up for that.” She trailed her fingers along the length of his fully erect cock. “So you better not fucking think of teasing me tonight or else I won’t be so considerate.”

“I won’t,” he promised in a strained voice.

A wicked little smirk was her reply, and before he could say anything, she’d lowered her lips to the base of his cock and began to lick the length of him, getting him nice and wet for her. She closed her eyes as she moved her tongue around him, and it wasn’t long before he was ready for more. Her first tightened on his erect cock, causing his body to shudder in anticipation. He reminded himself that she wasn’t going to tease him, she wasn’t going to mess about, but that wasn’t much comfort to him, because in that moment, her stroking his fully erect cock was akin to torture. But that torture didn’t last long, her lips soon parted, and her tongue eagerly welcomed his head. She immediately began swirling her tongue around, knowing how crazy that drove him, and when she felt comfortable, she dropped her hold from the base of his cock, and his foreskin moved forward. The first time she’d given him a blowjob she’d been a little confused as to what to do. Her previous boyfriend had been circumcised, that was what she was used to, so seeing an uncircumcised penis was something strange to her, something new, but she quickly learned how Harry loved to be treated. He was the kind of man that enjoyed when she gently nibbled on his foreskin, and when she sucked on it, rather harshly, his eyes would flutter and his hips would come off the bed. He said it was because it was so sensitive, with all the nerve endings there, but she didn’t know whether or not that was true, all she knew was that whenever she sucked hard on his foreskin, he’d curse or groan or moan her name in a low, husky voice. And that drove her crazy.

So when his foreskin moved forwards, she took it between her teeth, and ever so gently began to nibble on it as her hands fumbled with his balls. Sure enough, his hips jerked forwards, and a low groan rumbled from his chest. She didn’t keep at it long, knowing that it would be more torture than pleasure, and when his hands went to her hair, she knew it was time to part her lips and take him as far as she could. She pressed her tongue to the bottom of her mouth, and took him in until her eyes started to water, she bobbed up and down, her fist tight on his cock, as she worked in a twist on the upstroke, she lost herself in him for the moment, and it wasn’t until she felt his muscles tense that she pulled away.

The moment his cock fell from her lips, he pushed her back onto the bed, and took the opportunity to step out of his jeans and boxers, leaving them a discarded pile, and in the process of doing that, his shoes came off as well, leaving him in only a pair of dark socks that went up mid calf.

Paulina watched with lust filled eyes as he grabbed a condom and then moved towards the bed. She was hypnotized by him, by the way his chest already glistened with sweat, and how his muscles were so prominent. She was so caught up in him that she’d completely forgotten she was still technically wearing a bra, even if her breasts were already on display, and that her skirt and panties were still firmly in place. Perhaps she may have forgotten that, but Harry hadn’t. His knees rested against the bed, and in one swift movement, he reached for the skirt, and pulled it along with the panties off. And there, in all her glory, she was, she was glistening already, the pleasure her breasts had received had served to fully arouse her, to make her wet with anticipation.

“You’re fucking soaked,” he commented as he ran two fingers along her labia.

“That’s what happens when you fucking tease someone.” She propped herself up on her elbows. “Now . . . are you gonna put that condom on or do you need a hand?”

“Slow down there, love. We’ve hours to ourselves.” He slipped on the condom, carefully rolling it onto himself. “And I'm not running off anywhere. Are you?” He hooked his arms under her knees and pulled her towards him, until her ass rested right on the edge of the bed. “Cuz if you are, I reckon we ought to stop.”

“I . . . I'm not going anywhere,” she said in a shaky voice, he was brushing his cock between her labia. She was losing her wits.

“Then we can take our time.” With his free hand, he guided himself back down to her entrance, and slowly, ever so gently, pushed himself in, just a few inches. “Don’t you reckon?”

She nodded fiercely as her hand traveled down her body, her index and middle finger spreading her labia apart to make it easier on him to get in all the way.

“That’s what I thought . . .” stated Harry in a strained voice, he was trying to keep it together, to not seem to eager, but there was nothing quite as extraordinary or pleasurable as being between her legs, it was that blessed space that was his favorite in all the world.

He gripped her hips, using his hands to keep her pinned to the bed as he slowly entered her. It didn’t matter how many times they were intimate, she seemed to be perpetually tight, her walls were always so closed in on him, and as much as he loved that, as much as he loved the feel of her walls clamping in on him, he couldn’t help but think it a bother, at least in the beginning. There were always a few seconds, which had to be taken with caution in order to not create unnecessary discomfort. And exerting that control was the hardest part about being intimate with her, because as soon as he slipped in, his burning desire demanded that he claim her in a swift thrust, that he lose himself in his passions, and serve only himself, but his love for her reminded him not to be a selfish lover, that it wasn’t just about him, it was just as much about her. Had she been someone else, he would’ve been selfish, he would’ve sought his own pleasure, and left hers as an afterthought, but he wanted her to feel what he felt, and carefully, gentle as he could, he plunged deep within her.

A soft moan in the form of his name passed through her lips, beckoning the young lover to not be so cautious, and he understood that perfectly from her moan. He knew it was time to give into their desires, she was ready, and he sure as hell was, so he kept his hold on her hips, and began gyrating, his hips in a rotating motion. He didn’t even have to rub her clit as he did it, his pelvis grinded into her, the patch of gingery hair brushing against her smooth clit, causing friction between them, causing her chest to grow more ever flushed, and her hands to grab onto the comforter as she bucked her hips to meet his moves.

He drove her wild, and he knew it. He knew it by the way her body reacted to his touch, the way her muscles tightened, her breathing grew ragged, and her eyes fluttered. Had she ever felt such pleasure before him? She couldn’t remember. Nothing she’d ever experienced came close to being with Harry, not even that handsome Frenchman with the thick dick compared to Harry, and that man had left her sore for two days after their one night stand, but Harry was still better than him, the way he moved his hips, the way he kissed her neck, the way he looked at her as if she was all that mattered in the world, made her his, made her feel pleasure as it had never been felt before.

And she went at him with everything she had, she arched her back and bucked her hips, she reached out for him, to touch the toned abdomen, the defined chest, and when she couldn’t take it anymore, she forced herself up by use of her arms, and while one hand rested on the bed, the other wrapped itself around his neck, pulling him down so his lips met hers, and his body lay pressed against her own. She devoured his mouth, savoring his taste, and wrapping her legs around his waist, a low groan left Harry’s lips as she deepened his thrust.

“Bloody hell . . .” he cursed, staring her directly in the eyes.

She struggled to keep herself propped up. Her left arm began to wobble as Harry pounded deep into her, and try as she did to grab at the comforter for support; it wasn’t enough, not when her entire body was shaking from the intensity of his thrusts. He’d lost all his self restraint, having her eyes mere inches from his own, and her legs wrapped around his waist had made him lose the little self control he had, and he went deep within her, he pulled out all the way and then thrust back inside, earning cries of ecstasy and pleasured moans, she was his drug, the fix he’d been itching for all month, and now that he had her on the bed, he took his fill.

He went hard, he went, deep, and when her arm finally gave out, he wrapped his arms around her waist, and kept her in place. He struggled to keep himself afoot, his knees were beginning to quake from his intensity, but he kept her in place, he kept thrusting, and as she cried out from the first orgasm, he felt his cock twitch in anticipation of his own. The month apart had worn them down, they weren’t making it to their epic hour long shag-a-thons, ten minutes had taken it out of him, ten minutes in two positions had been their end, but the day was young, they had hours left to go for themselves, and as he came inside her, he lowered his lips to her neck, and bit down on the sun kissed flesh, leaving his mark for all to see.