The sky opened and bled from deep wounds. Heavy drops of rain saturated ever uncovered surface and flooded the streets. Gale force winds cut through the downpour, swaying trees and playing with loose objects.

A man walked through the raging storm. Dressed in a black sweatshirt and tight denim jeans, he looked like a figure that hides in children's nightmares.

He blended in well with the dark colors of the storm, but he didn't blend in well with the people who watched him safely from behind their thick glass windows. They judged him for being stupid enough to walk through a hurricane in every day attire, everyone except Annabel.

Annabel watched him curiously. He didn't have anything with him except the clothes on his back and whatever happened to be inside of his pockets. Whoever he was, he walked with a purpose even though the storm battered him and sent him stumbling on his feet every now and then.

Everyone was watching him, but no one had offered to help the man even as the wind picked up and heavy rolls of thunder shook the foundations of buildings.

Lightning lit up the sky and illuminated his lonesome figure. He didn't even flinch.

Annabel rushed down the stairs and flung open the front door. She vaguely heard her mother shouting at her, but she ignored the sound and ran out into the downpour.

The chill of the rain combined with both the wind and the frigid temperature chilled her to the bone instantly. It didn't help that she had gone outside in her lace underwear and a sweatshirt that was far too big on her.

Another roll of thunder shook the ground beneath her feet, but Annabel ignored it as she ran up to the man in the dark sweatshirt. Her lungs screamed at her in protest and her feet ached from running barefoot on the gravel, but she needed to know him.

Something about the strange man lured her in and she wasn't willing to let him walk away until she knew even the smallest detail about him. They were standing face to face, clothes clinging to their bodies and eyes wide in the sudden presence of a stranger.

Annabel's chest was heaving, she didn't run much and didn't care too, and it was certainly showing. Dark eyes met light eyes, but nothing was clear on the surface. The man was intrigued and raised an eyebrow as he waited for the woman to say something.

Her dark hair clung to her skin in webs, Annabel hated the feeling, but it hardly registered because she really liked the color of his eyes.

"Come inside."

The man nodded. Annabel took his hand and pulled him towards her house. Her parents were going to be livid, especially because he was a man, but their opinions didn't matter to Annabel because hers didn't matter to them.

Unlike them, she had actually gone out to help him, so there really wasn't much room for them to argue unless they wanted to sound like terrible people.

Annabel walked through the door with the stranger, each of them shedding water like they'd just stepped out of a swimming pool.

Claire, Annabel's mother, rushed into the room in a panic, her father, Steven, right on her heels.

"What do you think you're-" Claire stopped speaking upon catching sight of the strange man standing beside her daughter. He was shaking the water droplets from his hair, his profile was strong and striking.

"Oh."

Annabel ignored her parents and watched the stranger, his tongue poked out to wet his lips and his light eyes were carefully taking in his surroundings. He looked much better with the dark hood away from his face.

Steven eyed the man carefully, there was something about him that he didn't like, other than the fact that he was a man that his daughter had seemed to take an interest in, but he couldn't quite place his finger on it.

"You know you were walking in the middle of a hurricane, right?"

The man nodded curtly, but he didn't say a word. His mannerism reminded Steven of Annabel and he wondered if she'd known him before she'd run out in the middle of a hurricane to bring him home.

Steven eyed the two suspiciously, "Any particular reason why?"

"I've got nowhere to go."

Annabel wrung out her hair beside him, hanging on his every action and the few words that he spoke. He had a nice voice, it was low and smooth and she was imagining what he would sound like as he sank into her, his hips meeting hers and her teeth marking his skin.

Her mother offered to let him stay until the storm was over and he accepted with another curt nod and a very brief, "Thank you."

Steven had been about to add something, but Annabel took the stranger's wrist and started to lead him upstairs. She was going to show him the guest room and save him from the interrogation her parents were putting together. She was also saving herself because her father had just noticed what she was wearing and was about to lecture her about decency.

As they ascended the stairs, the stranger's eyes were trained on her ass, the lace underwear she wore certainly did her favours, but she definitely didn't need any help because her ass was perfect.

Annabel brought him the first door on the right. She opened the door without a word and pulled him inside. The room was spacious and overly furnished, but it was warm and dry and he wasn't going to complain.

Her hand left his wrist after a moment and she walked straight out the door and into the room across the hall, leaving him with the smallest trace of a smirk as she shut her bedroom door.

Annabel didn't like to talk much, partially because most people didn't deserve her time and partially because she wanted someone to figure her out without dead giveaways. However, nearly everyone interpreted her silence incorrectly.

To most people, she was mysterious and the epitome of cool and to others she was rude and closed off. The thing about Annabel was that she was not cool or mysterious in anyway and she was not closed off. Sure, she was rude too, but it wasn't purely because of her silence.

Annabel didn't like the colour that culture had brought to humanity. She hated the how it was so easy to see right through people and she hated how everyone seemed to love the idea of wearing their hearts on their sleeves.

What purpose is there to life if everything is painfully obvious?

Steven had brought the stranger some clothes that he could borrow while they washed his soaked ones. He was strange, but he was very likable at the same time.

The power went out around eight. Annabel brought some candles into his room and lit them for him. She was still wearing revealing clothes, but it wasn't for his benefit, she just liked to wear less clothes because she felt less constrained.

He stared at her, transfixed with her silence and her obvious lack of concern for how others saw her. Nothing was ever beautiful to him anymore, save for his hobby, but she was alluring because she was like him and that is what drew him to her.

Annabel wasn't oblivious, she felt his eyes on her and how they focused on certain areas and she smirked to herself as she left his room.

. . .

Harry had left his door open to see if Annabel would return. He'd learned her name during dinner, but no one knew his because he'd given them a false name. Something about the look that Annabel had given him after he had spoken the false name told him that she knew he was lying.

At dinner, she'd spoken again, but only to ask him if he liked to eat Girl Scout cookies. Annabel had smirked and licked her lips after asking, leading him to infer that it was a clever innuendo rather than an actual question about cookies. Surprisingly, her parent's didn't pick up on it at all.

In response, he'd licked his lips as well and returned her slight smirk. He told her that he loved to eat Girl Scout cookies.

Annabel had left her door open after dinner and he had a great view as she undressed. He'd learned that she liked to sleep naked and that she knew what she wanted. She had made it very clear that she wanted him sexually and, oh, did he love that about a woman.

Despite living at home, Harry had picked up that she was almost twenty and she most definitely wasn't a virgin. The only problem was that her parents were just downstairs. He had absolutely no problem with fucking her senseless, it was the other things that he wanted to do that stopped him.

The wind buffeted the house at every angle, throwing debris randomly as it passed through the town. Branches scraped against his window, a sound that would frighten most people and keep them up at night, but it relaxed him and almost lulled him to sleep.

Candles flickered throughout the house, casting a warm glow on the walls and sending sinister shadows across the ceiling. It was late, probably around ten from what he could guess, and everyone in the house was asleep. Or, so he thought.

Across the hall, he heard soft moans emanating from Annabel's room. Curiosity bloomed in his chest and a smirk rose to his lips, he had a pretty good idea of what she was doing, but was she doing it to get his attention?

She must have been because she'd left the door open and her moans increased in volume after a minute or so. Harry got out of bed and stretched his limbs, he'd been sitting in a weird position for far too long and his legs were asleep.

Across the hall, Annabel was enjoying herself, her voice clear and drawing him in. Harry felt himself twitch and grew tired of taking his time. In just a few long strides, he was across the hall and leaning against her door frame, his arms crossed over his chest and a wide smirk on his lips.

Annabel was on her bed with her hand between her legs. She didn't stop when she saw him standing in the doorway, but she did smirk in return, her teeth sinking into her lower lip moments later.

He was hard, that much was obvious, and she enjoyed knowing that she'd done that to him.

Something dark flashed behind his eyes, she saw it even in the dim light that the candles gave off, but she wasn't afraid, "Need some help?"

A lovely moan passed her pink lips, "No."

Harry was perplexed for a moment, but his stance and his expression didn't waver. He'd said need instead of like. She didn't need help, but there was a very high likelihood that she wanted some.

His voice was low and sensual as he spoke, "Let me rephrase the question: Would you like some help?"

Annabel nodded slowly, her hand still between her legs and her lip still between her teeth. That was all Harry needed for consent and his smirk grew around the edges.

He didn't close the door, he didn't want it closed and, apparently, neither did she.

Harry reached the bed in a few strides. Annabel hadn't moved anything except her hand, and he decided that it would be easier to stay at the foot of the bed and just pull her closer.

He leaned forward, his elbows pressing into the soft mattress, and pulled her to him by her ankles. Annabel didn't need any more prompting, she removed her hand and spread her legs for him.

Harry grabbed her hand before she could pull it too far and put her fingers in his mouth, swirling his tongue over her small fingers and humming to himself.

He licked his lips as he released her fingers. Annabel lifted her hips in anticipation, she was bored with waiting and she wanted to experience what that wonderful mouth of his could do.

She didn't have to wait very long before his lips pressed against her sensitive spot. Annabel sighed at the feeling, but he was just getting started.

Harry sucked harshly and her hips bucked, which had him humming in satisfaction. She was responsive and he was going to have so much fun with her.

He retracted his lips and ran his tongue along her, teasing her entrance briefly before pushing two fingers inside of her. His lips returned to her sensitive bundle of nerves and resumed sucking harshly.

Annabel's fingers twisted in the sheets, gentle moans passing her lips as Harry curled his fingers inside her. He could tell that she was getting close and stopped his assault, retracting his fingers and his mouth from her center.

Annabel groaned in annoyance as he climbed on top of her, she hated being led up to her climax only to be denied once she was nearly there. Harry smirked, he knew it would tick her off, but he wasn't sorry about denying her pleasure.

He stuck his fingers in her mouth and she sucked them clean, a smirk on her lips when he retracted them.

Annabel pulled him down and kissed him hard. She was the first to initiate tongue and Harry let her think that she was in control for a little while before he took the lead. He thought it was far more interesting to piss her off and he was certain that it would lead to rough sex.

Annabel didn't particularly enjoy the lack of control. She let her hands trail down his body only to pull down his briefs and tease him with slow pulls. Harry bit her lip and harshly cupped her breasts in response.

She moaned loudly and pressed her body against his. Harry's lips moved to her neck, his hips meeting hers as he entered her without warning. Annabel gasped, her fingertips squeezing his shoulders. She'd never had anyone quite his size before and it was painful and pleasurable all at once.

Harry nipped at her skin, leaving bruises on her neck, collarbones, and breasts, and rolled his hips into hers harshly. Annabel could hardly make sense of the pleasure that radiated through her body, but she wanted more. She told him to go faster and he complied only after lifting her legs so that they rested on her shoulders.

Annabel was a mess of loud moans and profanities. The headboard smacked against the wall so much that she thought it would break the plaster and leave a gaping hole in its wake. Harry's skin smacked against hers, his fingers roughly squeezing at her hips and at her breasts.

She was certain that she would feel him for days, but she didn't care because it felt so damn good. Annabel was returning to that blissful state leading up to her orgasm when she took control and flipped them over so that she was on top.

Annabel harshly rocked her hips against his, throwing her head back in pleasure as he shifted slightly and hit her sweet spot. Harry didn't like her pace and gripped her hips harshly, his fingers pressing into her skin so tightly that she knew there would be bruises in the morning, and guided her so that she was bouncing on him instead.

Loud profanities spewed from her lips and echoed down the hall as he lifted his hips to meet hers, his mouth connecting with her breast and sucking on her nipple. Annabel was by no means a virgin, and she loved it when men treated her like Harry did, but this was the best sex she had ever had. With any luck, the hurricane would rage on for a few more days so she could have some more fun with him.

Harry's hand came down hard against her ass and she gasped at the sensation and told him to do it again. He complied without a second thought and it didn't take much longer for Annabel to reach her climax, the upper half of her body relaxed while her lower half clenched around Harry.

He didn't stop the motion of her hips until she had come down entirely. Harry was going to pull out because he didn't know if she was on anything and he wasn't wearing a condom. Annabel beat him to it, removing herself from him only to sink down and wrap her lips around his tip.

Harry hadn't been expecting that, but he definitely wasn't going to stop her. His hands tangled in her hair as she sank lower, her mouth meeting with his pubic bone as his tip hit the back of her throat.

Annabel gagged slightly, she had never been with someone as well equipped as he was, but she didn't stop. She swirled her tongue around him and hummed as he twitched in her mouth. She sucked him harder and met his eyes.

Harry lost it and Annabel hummed once more as his warm liquid hit her throat. She sucked him a little longer before pulling her lips away with a popping sound. Annabel smirked at him as she swallowed.

He lie in the bed for a moment to catch his breath and she watched him with a satisfied smile. After a few minutes, he'd collected himself, gotten out of bed and retrieved his briefs, and left without a word.

Annabel's voice had him stopping in the middle of the doorway, "Goodnight, Daniel."

The way that she'd said his false name confirmed what he already knew. Harry turned around to see her expression. Annabel sat in the middle of her bed with her legs crossed under her and a pleased smirk on her lips.

Harry ran his tongue over his lips and smirked in return, "Goodnight, Annabel."