The Knight in Leather Armor

ch.20 I am your slave

I lay in bed, tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable. But Harry’s deep, steady words echoed in my head: “I will fight for you.” 

I swallowed hard as my heart fluttered and did dozens of somersaults. Then Liam and his soft brown eyes came to mind and guilt burned my throat.

There was no moment of bliss without a moment of pain. It was tearing me straight down the middle, like an old war map from the Civil War. Harry is my charming, but possessive southern boy. And Liam, Liam is my golden thinker, my aboilitionist, trying to free me from bondage? Am I even in bondage? Yes, I am. But not to anyone, to labels of this town- to Westwood, to Eastwood. 

Then who can save me? Can I free myself? I have wings, don’t I? I have wings, but they weren’t meant to fly, they’re only on display.

A loud knocking sound came from my window, breaking my train of depressing thoughts and broken-winged dreams. 

I heard a pebble tumble down the roof.

I jumped up, out of bed. Carefully, I leaned close to the side of the mirror, so whoever or whatever was outside couldn’t see me.

“Angela,” a deep, raspy voice called quietly.

I looked down cautiously and saw him standing with a pile of rocks in his hand, ready to throw another one if I didn’t open up.

“Harry?” I asked as his dark marbles blinked at me.

He ran up to the side ledge of the house and began climbing like an experienced thief, coming to steal my heart, again.

I held out my hand for him once he got to the top. He took it, but almost pulled me down with him.

“Did you walk here?” I asked him with wide, disbelieving eyes.

“Yeah,” he nodded, catching his breath.

I moved back, giving him space to come in.  He walked that much closer, unwilling to create more than a papery-wing’s distance between us.

“It’s freezing cold!” I hissed. His hands were half frozen and his leather jacket had a thin gleam of ice.

“I was hoping you could warm me up,” he replied innocently, then let a mischievous grin curl at his red lips. 

He kicked off his shoes and took a step closer to me. I closed the window behind him as he leaned close to me, pulling me to his icy body. 

I walked backwards, looking up into his blazing marble eye- until the bed forced me to sit. Harry scooped his arms under my legs, pushing me forward on the mattress.  

“What about losing control?” I teased, folding my arms over my chest. 

He closed his lips over mine more eagerly- in need of warmth. It was my turn to awaken his body, my turn to fill him with so much pleasure that it was painful.

“Temptation overwhelms me” he answered coyly as a slight grin tugged at the corner of his red lips. He had said that about smoking. 

"Am I your drug?" I purred against his ear as I started to unbutton his jacket.

He resisted at first, not because he was unwilling, but because it was his uniform. His persona. He was valiant and noble and charming with that jacket. But I wanted to see him raw, exposed and –and human.

"Yes. And I'm addicted" he replied with a grin as he let his tongue glaze down my neck.

He tossed his jacket –carefully- to the ground. 

But it wasn’t enough. 

I slid my hands under his white t-shirt, wanting to tingle his skin awake. He obliged and pulled off his shirt with one fell swoop. The muscles in his arms and chest tightened as he looked down at me, leaning closer, his hands on either side of me, holding me in his trap.