Can you do a blurb about what it's like to kiss Harry? :)
Ohhh to kiss that boy.
It could start in a number of different ways, but my personal favorite to imagine are slow, lazy kisses that could *potentially* lead to something else, but not necessarily.
I’m talking his lips starting slow on your jaw, nose nuzzling lightly into your cheek and low, throaty chuckles every now and then. Maybe a low, somewhat needy whine of “Babyyyy” while his nils rake down your back.
Once you accepted the heat of the moment, I think he’d wrap his fingers around your hips and pull you over onto his lap so you’re facing him. Your knees would rest on either side of his thighs, and your butt on his knees while your lips found their way to his neck. I think kissing Harry would be a very overwhelming experience, but not in a bad way.
I think he’d be incredibly warm. His body, his cheeks, everything. Warm and comforting– almost in a suffocating way, but not enough to make you feel trapped. His lips would be velvety I think, because damn, you know that boy takes good care of himself. And he’d smell so good. Not just his cologne, but like… him. A scent that is exclusive to Harry and his body and it’s enough to get you heated on it’s own.
His tongue would slowly circle yours while his lips sucked lightly against your own. His fingers would absentmindedly scratch and squeeze at your back or your hips, and then if you did something particularly nice, like bite gently down on his bottom lip, they’d stop because he’d only be able to focus on that sensation and how good its making him feel despite its simplicity.
Every now and then you’d hear a low groan so soft you would think you imagined it. You’d hear his breath hitch, or he’d let out a long sigh through his nose. The only noise would be the separating and then rejoining of your lips, and it would be a soft, wet sound. Occasionally his hips would jut up ever so softly, or yours would roll against the subtle little bulge in his jeans, but it wouldn’t mean anything. Not necessarily. Because I think Harry knows the value of a good old fashioned make-out session without expecting anything to come from it.
So that’s what he focuses on. Using his lips to press spongy, open mouthed kisses from your lips to your neck. His breath causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. (And don’t think he wouldn’t notice those and give himself a mental pat on the back for them.) His tongue would peek lightly between his lips once he found the spot on your neck that he’d been eyeing all day, and he’d suck just shy of pain; until you could feel the hint of his teeth grazing lightly against the soft, sensitive skin. Lazy circles of his warm tongue would have your eyes fluttering closed, with no intention of opening back up any time soon.
I think, at random times, you’d feel him smile into the kiss or he’d let out a low, sleepy sounding laugh, and you’d ask what was so funny. To which he’d pull away ever so slightly and say, “Nothing. Just love you, angel. S’all.” And you know he means what he says, because the look in his eyes is so beautiful you want to cry. He knows there’s nowhere else he’d rather be in this moment (Except perhaps between your legs, but he’ll work towards that later).
