Raúl Esparza Fucked Me Up

“What? What is it?” he propped himself up on a forearm to peek over your shoulder. 

“I–…” your eyes scanned the email wildly, “this can’t be real, right?” you cast a glance back at your friend. 

“Let me have a look,” and you swiftly handed him your phone before hearing him skim through it, “dear miss Cherry Blossom, bla, bla, bla… we here at Smash Studios really love your vibe and were wondering if you would ever consider doing professional pornography, because if so, then we would love to work with you,” his blue eyes flickered a moment longer over the screen before they fluttered up to meet yours, “no, I think it’s legit.”

“Holy shit…” you breathed, an airy giggle then bubbled out of you as this was quite the news to take in, even when one wasn’t still hazy from haven fucked one silly in front of hundreds of people. 

“You think you wanna do it?”

“Beautiful, gorgeous! And look right here, up there, yeah, that’s it…” 

Sharp clicks shuttered the camera and shot throughout the massive house as a photographer snapped the last of the stills for the shoot. You were posed perched and kneeling on a bed with your right hand buried in the already tiny crop top, you’d brought as one of the outfit options, and held up high to reveal your tits. 

The groan of floorboards creaking then found your ears and your gaze swiftly fluttered towards the door where the salt-and-pepper-haired man, who you’d come to learn was the head of the little porn studio, crossed over the threshold. 

“How are we doing in here?” Bruce adjusted his glasses before stepping further into the room. 

“I think we’re about done,” the photographer lowered the camera from his eye and cast a glance to his boss, “think we got the shot.”

“Great,” Bruce clapped his shoulder as the other man passed by and exited the room. As you tugged the short t-shirt back down into place, you met Bruce’s gaze before he asked you, “how are you doing? You ready?”

Though your mind was way too preoccupied to offer him an answer and instead blurted, “has he arrived?” as you scooted off the bed and felt the tiny shorts you wore ride up enough for your grasp to float down to adjust. 

“Not yet, I’m sorry,” he tilted his head, “trust me when I say that he isn’t usually this late. He wouldn’t have the stellar reputation he does if he was. But we can still begin without him and just fix it in post if you’re–”

Someone then poked their head and announced, “hey Banner? He’s here. I just spotted his bike roll up the driveway.”

Feeling your heart thump in your chest, you heard Bruce clap his palms together, “great!” before you followed him out of the bedroom and through the pristine halls of the rented modern mansion. 

Just before your bare feet began to conquer the long staircase, your absentminded grip tightened on the glass railing as you looked down at the open living room, clearly visible from the wide balcony, and spotted the figure that then sauntered in. 

“So sorry I’m late, traffic was literal hell.”

Ari Levinson. 

With sun-kissed brunette locks flowing from his head and a motorcycle helmet nuzzled under his burly arm, the infamous pornstar was not only blessed with a smile that could make anyone swoon, but also a dick so huge that any sane person would be downright terrified by the idea of having it split them apart. 

Though that wasn’t what had stopped you in your tracks, what had made your palms embarrassingly clammy when he soon shook one of them once you’d somehow made your way down the stairs. 

Why did your very first partner have to be someone you’d obsessively been getting off to for years? 

You were barely listening to what the people around you were saying as you couldn’t rip yourself out of the trance you’d snapped into. 

“I’m sorry, what?” you soon blinked, trying to avert your gaze. 

“I asked if you were ready,” Bruce patiently repeated. 

“…for?” you breathed, feeling as if you were inside of a giant ethereal cheese bell, making the entire world around you seem blurry. 

“For the shoot,” Bruce’s words still flew straight over your head, “I said that I was thinking that I’d do the filming myself, if that could make you more comfortable since you’ve already met me. That way it’ll just be me, the two of you and then Sam in the corner doing audio.”

“O-okay…” you said quietly, feeling your cheeks heat up as Ari let his gaze linger over you, an observant brow soon twitching as he spoke up. 

“Wait, actually,” he placed a palm on Bruce’s forearm, halting him as he reached for the bulky camera resting on the white couch, “do you mind if I grab a quick smoke break first?”

“Yeah, sure,” he nodded, “let’s just all take five before we begin.”

It caught you completely off guard when the object of your distraction walked by you and paused to murmur in your ear, “come with me outside for a second, will you?”

Shadowing him all the way out of the tall glass door and onto the terrace, you watched him lean his frame against the fence and tilt his body for you to slot in beside him. 

“I don’t actually smoke,” you uttered softly as you let your fingers ghost over the railing. 

“Oh, neither do I–, or well, that’s not completely true, I do, just didn’t need one right now.” 

“So then why did you ask for a smoke break?” you cocked a brow. 

Blowing out a swift breath, Ari then twisted to face you more and gazed directly down at you. 

“You mind if I hold your hand?” he held out his own palm.

“Oh, uhm,” your glance flickered down to his upturned hand before you carefully placed your own atop of it, “okay.”

His warm fingers swiftly engulfed your own as his stare stayed fast upon you.

“So, this is your first time, huh?”

“Oh, no, I'm not a virgin, I–” 

“I meant porn, sweetheart,” he tilted his head to be more at your level. 

“Right,” you averted your gaze as butterflies soared in your stomach, “yeah, I haven’t really done this before… I mean, I’ve some stuff, I’ve cammed for a pretty long time now and even recorded custom videos for some people, but no, I haven’t really taken this step before…” 

You were staring down at his large hand engulfing yours as he then said, “you know, it’s okay if you don’t wanna go through with it. This field isn’t for everyone, in fact, only very few thrive in this environment, and if it’s not for you, then it’s okay.”

“Oh, no,” your eyes flickered up to find his as you urged, “I wanna do this, I really do. I’m sorry, I guess I just kinda got a bit more nervous than I expected.” 

“Hey, I get it,” he flashed you a comforting smile, “I’m a complete stranger. You just shook my hand two seconds ago and now we’re expected to bang in front of a bunch of other people you also don’t know,” his broad thumb swept over your knuckles, “you just have to decide if you wanna pack up your things, go home and chalk this up to just a fun experience, a lesson learned about what corners your sexuality and such does and does not stretch to,” he uttered with sincerity, “or you can come back inside and we can make some magic happen. It’s up to you.” 

“So, Cherry,” Bruce purred behind the camera as he knelt on the floor beside where you sat at the foot of the bed, “I can’t believe we finally convinced you to come have some fun with us. I gotta tell you, you are just a fucking dream come true…”

“Oh, thank you,” you smiled, kicking your feet slightly as they dangled over the edge. 

“But you must get that all the time, I mean, look at you.”

“It has been known to happen on occasion,” you chuckled, thinking back to all of the lewd compliments the viewers of your streams generously tossed at you. 

“So, a little birdy told me that this is your very first time fucking on camera. Is that true?”

“Yeah, it is,” you bit down on your bottom lip, “I’m so ready to pop that cherry.”

“Oh, you are, are you?” he smirked, panning the bulky camera over your frame as you tilted your head in a nod, “you’re just ready to show the whole world what a perfect slut you are?”

“Think it’s about time,” you giggled in response. 

“Well, then why don’t you do something for me and stand up?” he shifted back a bit as you got up from the bed, “and now, I’ve already seen it, but can you please turn around and show everyone how fucking perfect your ass is?” a grin stayed fast on your face as you slowly spun around. Your butt was barely covered in the tiny shorts that clung around your hips, so when you twisted and let the camera catch that part of you, Bruce quietly groaned, “wow…” and he shifted his grip to let one of his hands float up towards you, “can I touch you?” 

“Sure,” you arched your back a bit to make his palm’s journey that much shorter. 

“Damn… this has got to be one of the greatest booties I’ve ever seen in my entire life,” he offered your softness a brief squeeze. His fingers first dented one cheek, then the next, before his grip caught your waistband and tugged your shorts up just a tad bit more, making the fabric momentarily rub against your covered pussy.

His flat palm then scooped around your hips and guided you back to face the camera.

“Do you wanna see my boobs?” you smiled as you blinked down at him with big doe eyes, your hands gently grazing over the hem of your crop top.

“Oh, yes, please,” he virtually begged as he let his warm palm stay glued to your waist. 

Peeking down, you slowly lifted the shirt up and let your tits quite literally spill out as they jiggled slightly from the release of how fiercely you let the cotton graze over your skin. 

“Jesus christ…” you heard him utter as your palms fluttered down to play with them, squeezing the soft peaks gently before Bruce’s fingers sneaked up to pinch one of your nipples.

Once you’d put on a show and pushed the tiny shorts down your legs, the crotch of which had been slightly soaked since you weren’t wearing any panties underneath, you rested back down on the bed and spread your legs wide for the camera, grinning as the older man asked you to play with yourself. 

“Oh my god… I gotta tell you, I am so hard right now,” you watched how intently he stared at the small monitor, getting a closeup of how your fingers rubbed your little clit, “you have no idea how tough it is not to just fuck you right now, it’s crazy…”

“Oh yeah?” you giggled, the melody of your want echoing throughout the room at every teasing touch you offered yourself, “how bad do you wanna fuck me?”

“So fucking bad…” he uttered in a nearly hypnotise tone. 

Continuing to circle your puffy pearl, your fingers briefly dipped down to tease your entrance, only shyly slipping inside before you swept back up. 

“You know what?” Bruce said as he then began to twist a bit to get the open door to the room into frame, “I have a little surprise for you,” and perfectly on queue, Ari appeared at the threshold, burly chest on show with just a pair of jeans hanging low on his hips. 

His stride was slow as he only stayed in the doorway a moment before sauntering over to where you sat, melted back and resting against the one forearm that propped you up. 

“Hey,” he smiled and plucked up your face as soon as it was within reach. 

“Hi,” you managed to utter just before he bent down and pressed his lips to yours in an unhurried and gentle kiss. 

He kissed you as if he had all the time in the world, like some dude wasn’t pressing a bulky camera closer to the intimate act, but like he was the lead in a PG romcom. 

When Ari withdrew, he let himself linger in your warmth, ever so slightly nuzzling his nose against your own as your fingers kept up the dizzying pattern you drew between your parted thighs. Tilting his head, his touch traced the length of your arm till his reach came down to aid your efforts, making you gasp from the way he caressed you. 

“You,” he nudged his nose gently against your own, “look like you’re in need of some cock in that little mouth of yours.”

Letting out a soft chuckle, you said, “you read my mind,” before popping the button of his jeans and tugging the zipper down. Even though you’d seen his famed cock numerous times on screen before, it truly was something else to witness it in person. A breathy, “holy shit,” left your lips as you tried to wrap your fingers around his girth, though he only let out a soft laugh at the way your eyes grew wide. 

Ceasing the caress he drew between your thighs, he instead grabbed the base of his heavy length with his fingers still glossy from your arousal. As you stuck out your flat tongue, he tapped the weight against you for a second before you tilted your chin and wrapped your lips around the bulbous head.  

As you disappeared into the meditative motion of slobbering all over his cock, gradually taking more and more of his intimidating length, your frame twisted to lay on your side and face him more. 

Blinking up into his hooded eyes as the corners of your lips burned from the severe stretch, you felt his hips begin to move, rolling to meet your every bob, till his fingers tangled in your hair and he got to take over completely, fucking your face till slobber dribbled down your chest and rained down on your crop top, still tugged up and framing your tits. 

His free hand then snaked its way back down your body and cracked your legs open wide for the camera to see as he plugged your pussy up with two of his fingers, making you moan around his girth as the tip of him bruised your throat. 

When he yanked your mouth off of his cock, he did so with a gravelly growl, like he could have lived in your silky warmth and it pained him to say goodbye so soon. 

“Come here,” he grabbed you and flipped you around for your frame to face him as his feet stayed planted on the side of the bed. Kicking his jeans the rest of the way off, you panted up at him as you scooted even closer, nearly letting your butt hang off the mattress’ edge as you laid already crumbled and folded before him, utterly bewitched by the anticipation of what his legendary size must feel like stretching your poor pussy out. 

Shimmery spiderwebs of your nectar clung to him as he then let you feel the weight of him tap against your puffy pearl, briefly skimming through your folds before he found your eyes and tipped down, nudging to catch your weeping entrance. 

“Oh my g-god…” you gasped, all of the air escaping your body to accommodate as he slowly pressed just the tip inside. Your cunt clung around his dick as he gave you a second to catch your breath. Your pulse throbbed in your pussy as your silky walls moulded around him and your thighs gently trembled from the intensity of it all. 

“Fuck,” he groaned as he gave you another inch, “you feel so good,” gently stuffing more of his length inside. 

His grip dented your trembling thighs as he held you open for the camera to see how you struggled to take his cock. Even when the tip of him kissed your cervix and made you feel as if he was all the way up in your fucking throat, when you hazily gazed down to see where he split you apart, there was still a generous inch of him that your little pussy just couldn’t take. 

As your eyes lingered a little longer, you too caught sight of how a dull bulge formed in the lower part of your belly, perfectly timed with each of his mind-numbing thrusts. 

When you then tumbled over the edge, nearly blind from the overwhelming pleasure, your pussy couldn’t help but accidentally gush around Ari’s girth, simply because of how mind-boggling he felt. 

“Oh, shit,” you panted. Still in your orgasmic daze, you swiftly cast a worried glance up at Bruce steady behind the camera, “I’m sorry,” you briefly broke the scene as Ari too paused his movements as you breathlessly spoke, “I really tried not to squirt, I know that wasn’t part of today’s plan, but–, fuck…” your eyes fluttered up to find Ari’s, “your dick’s just so goddamn big,” you hazily giggled. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Bruce’s voice washed over you as you watched a smile tug at Ari’s lips, “that was just an unplanned bonus.”

“Wait, so you’re not mad?” your neck twisted to cast a glance at the director. 

“No,” he swiftly shook his head and flashed you a reassuring smile to calm the obvious anxiety that had bubbled up inside of you. 

“Oh, good,” you let out a sigh, “sorry, I just got nervous for a second. Okay, alright, we can keep going.”

“You good?” Ari checked before he cracked out of his frozen form. 

“Yep, yep, I’m okay, I’m wonderful,” you chuckled and let the last bit of nerves wash away. 

“Alright,” he dipped down to press a soft kiss to your lips, before his hands guided your arms around his neck, slinking them around him. 

His grasp then scooped down under you and he effortlessly plucked you up off the bed, a shy yelp bubbling up from your lungs as he picked your frame up to cradle you in his arms, his massive cock still lodged inside of you, though when he settled you in his strong hold, it felt as if he found a mystical way to slide even deeper. 

Moans flowed from your lips and vibrated against his skin as your neck soon gave up and lent your cheek to smoosh against his fuzzy chest. 

“There you go,” he stood up tall and bounced you in his arms like you were a toy, just a cocksleeve for him to get off with, “there you fucking go…”

As he picked up the pace and truly gave you a taste of how a real pornstar pounded a pussy for the camera, your eyes screwed shut tight and you felt yourself float away on a cloud, curled up in Ari’s burly arms and surrounded in a storm of your collective moans. The existence of the video camera even faded from your reality as you peeled your eyes open and peeked up at Ari from the pillow of his pec, knowing full well that he too could feel how you began to clench around his cock once more. 

“You gonna cum again?” he repeatedly lifted you up and down on his fat girth, “you gonna be a good girl and cream all over my cock, huh?”

Blinking up at him, your brows crinkled in pleasure as you nodded, “uh-huh.”

“You think you can squirt again for me?” his grip dug into the plush of your ass hard enough for it to leave marks. 

“I-I don’t know–”

“Oh, I think you can,” he switched up his pattern, slowing down slightly and dragging you all the way up till his cock nearly slipped out of you, only to sink you back down in such a rough, yet intensely slow manner, that it made your eyes roll in your skull, “just listen to that,” he smirked at the soft sloshing sound that sinfully echoed as his fat girth repeatedly slid against your g-spot, virtually bullying it till you surrendered, “it’s like she’s begging me to just spend the rest of the day making her gush over and over again until you fucking pass out…”

A shrill cry escaped your form as you let go once more, shaking in Ari’s grasp as Bruce knelt down to capture your sinful drizzle.  

You nearly felt drunk, like you were hours into the best party of your life, when you eventually found yourself planted on the floor, quaking legs unsteady beneath you as you blinked up at Ari, looming above you and furiously fucking his fist. 

“You want me to cum all over that pretty little face?” he grunted as you hazily stuck out your tongue. 

“Yes,” the corners of your lips blissfully curled up into a grin, “please–”

Even though your bones had turned into jelly and your pussy clenched in soreness, the drawn-out moan that rumbled in Ari’s chest as hot ropes of his cum then shot out and painted your features sent tingles throughout your body and filled you with a desire to just wrestle him back down onto the mattress, hit rewind and do it all over again. 

The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from a small bedside lamp. She lay on her stomach, her body spread out on the bed as Harry thrust himself into her from behind. She moaned softly with each movement, her hands gripping the sheets tightly.

The room was filled with the sounds of their heavy breathing and the wet noises of their bodies slapping together. Harry's face was scrunched up in concentration, his brow furrowed as he slowly pushed himself in and out of Y/N’s welcoming cunt as his wife watched, her face a mask of shock and betrayal.

Y/N's ass jiggled with each thrust, her body shaking as Harry fucked into her. She reached back with one hand, grabbing onto the headboard for support as she tried to stay steady. Her other hand was buried under the pillow, muffling her moans as she tried to keep quiet.

"Fuck, baby, you're so tight," Harry whispered, his breath hot against her ear. "So perfect." He reached around with one hand, rubbing her clit in slow circles as he continued to fuck her from behind. Nothing and no one had ever felt this good. Once he’d given into the temptation, he wasn’t able to look back. She had stolen him without even trying. "Look at that ass, bouncing on my cock like it was made for me. Think you were, Angel."

He leaned down, pressing his lips against the curve of his lover’s neck as he whispered vulgar praises. His hips smacked against her ass, the sound echoing through the room as he fucked into her harder, his fingers still working her sensitive little pearl, making her drip all over his cock- the sheets. Making a whole mess of the both of them.

It was a shift of the light that had him looking to the side, finally noticing his wife standing in the doorway, frozen as her eyes took in the scene- but he didn’t stop. No, his fingers continued to rub into his lover’s swollen clit, panting against her neck.

Harry's eyes locked onto his wife's, his face unreadable as he continued to thrust into the soft, pliant body underneath him, his fingers circling her clit, not once neglecting her pleasure. The room fell silent except for the wet sounds of their bodies coming together and Y/N's muffled moans into the pillow.

His cock was bare, slick with Y/N's wetness as he continued to fuck her from behind. He didn't seem to be affected by his wife's presence, instead focusing on the pleasure he was giving and receiving from Y/N. Call him sick, call him twisted, but finally getting the intimacy and sex he had been desperate for years was enough tale him lose his mind a bit.

The room was dimly lit but the small amount of light that filtered in was enough for his wife to take in the scene. Harry plowed into Y/N, unprotected and wet with where he had been buried deep inside her. It meant this wasn’t new, this wasn’t impulsive- this was habit. He wouldn’t fuck anyone without a condom unless they meant something.

Harry continued to fuck Y/N deep, his hips slapping against her thighs, the wet sounds from their bodies filling the room. He didn't seem to care that this was their marital bed, the same bed where he used to make love to his wife. He didn’t seem to care about anything, actually, other than the girl under him. Didn’t care about the fact that his marriage was over and she was watching the most intimate act of betrayal.

Y/N whimpered, turning her head to the side with her eyes closed. “Kiss, please.” She pleaded.

At the plea, Harry leaned down, his mouth crushing against hers in a slow, desperate kiss. His lips moved against hers as he continued to fuck her, his tongue pushing past her lips to tangle with hers. He kissed her like he was starving for her, like he needed her to breathe.

It wasn't just a one time thing, this was a full blown affair. Harry had been cheating for months, hiding his infidelity behind closed doors and lies. He had been seeing his lover regularly, making excuses to his wife about where he was going and who he was with. He was a bad person for it, and he didn’t give a fuck. This was what he wanted. This was what he was going to want for the rest of his life. Having her catch him was the quickest course of action that could have been taken.

As the months went by, Harry found himself falling deeper and deeper in love with Y/N. He loved the way she smiled, the way she laughed, the way she looked at him like he was the only person in the world. He loved everything about her and it terrified him. Being given the love he had always wanted and felt he deserved after being neglected intimately for years, he had little sadness about the marriage ending and more excitement over this new relationship. The bitterness had faded away into a true uncaring state- now that he had Y/N, he didn’t care about much else.

So when she let out a gasp, Harry didn't stop. There was no semblance of hesitation in it either, almost annoyance that he had been interrupted and had his attention momentarily drawn from the girl writhing underneath him. He only buried himself deeper inside of her, his hips grinding against her clit as he whispered soft words to her, his voice dripping with affection and love. "I love you, baby." he breathed against her ear. "Only you." A knife to the gut for his wife, probably, but he wanted the blow to be fatal. Let her hear the truth and know it was over.

Y/N had him now.

“Love you.” She slurred into the pillow, arching her back to keep him in deeper.

"Love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone." Harry replied, his voice thick with emotion. His hand snaked around her waist, the other braced against the headboard as he pushed himself further into her.

His wife watched from the doorway as Harry groaned, thrusts getting harder. "M’gonna cum inside of you." His voice filled with desire for Y/N- and her alone. He didn't care about his wife at that moment, all he cared about was the woman beneath him and the intense pleasure he was feeling. “Gonna fill you up.”

As Harry's climax built, he closed his eyes and let out a groan, the feeling of warmth spreading through him. Y/N whimpered beneath him, her body slick with sweat as she felt him empty himself inside of her, bare cock pulsing as his balls emptied inside her honeyed cunt. Painting the walls white, fucking it in a few times for extra measure. As the last waves of his passion subsided, Harry's eyes fluttered open and locked onto his wife's. He watched as her face crumpled, tears streaming down her cheeks as she took in the sight of him buried inside of Y/N, his arms wrapped possessively around her waist.

She blinked up at him, surprised by the sudden change in tone. Her cheeks flushed slightly at the implications of his words, but she didn’t look away from her boyfriend. Weirdly, it gave her one of those familiar tingles in her stomach that she knew all too well to be the first seedling of arousal. It wasn’t time for her to question it. Instead, she gives him a small nod, a determined glint in her eyes. “Of course, H.”

“I know y’will, lovely. You’re always good for me… but s’extra important tonight.” Harry had been gone for two weeks working on… things… and Y/N had been the good girl she always was, waiting for him diligently. He knew she hadn’t expected to come out with him tonight, but he also knew she couldn’t say no to him. Her dress that she had thrown on in haste was covered by his jacket that she was sort of swimming in, but it soothed the possessive beast in him. “Don’t let go of me, and stay close.”

She nodded, her fingers gripping the man’s hand tightly. “I won’t move from you. I promise.” Her heart raced. In her chest as she felt the serious demeanor radiating off him in waves. She could feel the tension in his muscles, the way he’s always on edge. She did her best to always do as she was told when it came to Harry’s business. Never sticking her nose into anything that wasn’t for her, not eavesdropping, listening when he said to drop it- tonight wasn’t going to be any different. One thing she was good at was listening to him- something they both benefitted from.

Weaving through the crowd of people, he finally made it to the dingy back room of the club. Dark and ugly with god awful gaudy plates on the door, he rolled his eyes as he approached the one he needed to go into. It wasn’t the way he wanted to spend a night back, not when he had Y/N’s pretty face and petal soft thighs he wanted to focus on, but duty called. And duty sort of pissed him off. Y/N knew that very well. His fist slammed on the door in three knocks, stepping back and shooting her a look. “Y’know the drill, hm? Keep that pretty mouth shut while I do business.”

She nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. The anticipation of what was to come had her heartbeat quick, but there was no questioning she was safe. Harry was the safest man to be around- for her- and that wasn’t debatable. She knew this was part of his life, and she had to accept it – even if it made her stomach churn with nerves.

The girl kept her gaze focused on the ground – not wanting to meet anyone’s eye for fear of giving something away. Her fingers played with the hem of her dress, a nervous habit she couldn’t shake.

“Gentlemen.” Harry nodded, walking into the room with Y/N on his arm. “I hope you have what I was promised.” It was immediately that he noticed their eyes on his girl, his angel, and that didn’t make him very happy. With a sigh, he took the gun out of his waistband and fired into the wall, making all of them jump, features blanching. “I’m really not in the fucking mood for this tonight. Keep your eyes away from my woman if you want t’keep them. I asked a fucking question, so answer it.”

Y/N flinched at the gunshot, her eyes wide with terror. She had only seen him like this a few times before, and it was terrifying each and every time. Her handed tightened her grip on his arm, trying to ground herself and offer some sort of comfort- if she could. Harry was different in this sort of scenario.

She silently cursed herself, her heart hammering out of her chest. Of course didn't like the attention from these men- it felt icky and objectifying, not in the way she liked either- but she didn't like seeing Harry resort to violence. Part of her was still sort of in denial at times about the different sides of him. Her sweet boy turned into this hardened man, it was always off putting her to see. The reminder of how dangerous the man was, despite how much she loved him, always had her knees feeling shaky.

No one spoke, making Harry exhale slowly. “I gave you a month. Plenty generous, I think. Sent my guys over here every week for updates. They said y’had it.” He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t know know better than to bullshit me?”

“It’s almost done, I promise. We just, we had an unexpected expense and we had to pull some of the funds-“ Harry didn’t think twice before he aimed the gun, placing a bullet in the guy’s shoulder. His face cold, unfeeling as he looked borderline bored. “I fail to see how that’s my problem. You borrowed from me, it was expected back now. I was the priority.”

Y/N gasped as Harry shot the man, her eyes fixed on the blood soaking through his shirt. She knew Harry had a temper, but seeing him this way was something else entirely. The calm, collected way he acted as if he had just done the most mundane thing in the world, it was chilling. No matter how many times she heard him talk about it, heard it in passing, it still shocked her each and every time it happened in front of her.

His irritation grew as he felt Y/N hide her face in his arm, lip twitching in a snarl. the first sign of emotion he’d had since walking in. “See what you’ve done? Made me shoot you, and now my girl’s uncomfortable.” Sharp eyes looked over to the head of the table, keeping his weapon out. “So do you magically have my money now? Or am I gonna have t’kill that son of a bitch and come back to pick you off one by one until I’ve got it?”

Y/N slowly pulled her face away from Harry, her ghroat thick at the tone of his voice and the pure irritation bubbling under the surface. She took in the scene before her, the man on the floor writhing in pain, the others around the table all stiff, their faces frozen. She was praying that for their sake, they had the money. Harry was notorious for not liking his income fucked with- even if he had millions that people had no idea about.

“We don’t have it yet, but you don’t have to kill anyone! I swear, next week-“ the man was cut off by the gun firing off again, finishing off the man on the ground. His struggles froze, his body still as the bullet took him out. Harry didn’t care. He had been lenient enough. “So have it next week, or one by one you’ll each end up like him.” Motioning to the body with his gun, he narrowed his eyes. “And if you have the stupid idea of running, don’t. I have you all surveillanced.”

Y/N felt her heart sink as she watched the man on the floor die, his life slipping away in a pool of his own blood. She glanced up at Harry, seeing the cold, calculating gaze he was giving the others. She knew he wasn't bluffing, he would do exactly as he said. Sometimes it was moments like this that made her understand exactly who she was with, made her wonder if it was worth it- but only for a mere moment. Realistically, she knew no one else had ever or would ever make her as happy as he would.

As soon as she was pulled out of the room, Harry led them out the back exit and gently pushed her into the waiting car, barking at Adam to drive. “M’sorry you had to see that, my angel.” His hand stroked her cheek softly. And there was the switch. The man she knew. the cool mask slipping off and the warmth gliding up his features, the fingers that had just pulled the trigger curling under her chin and those hard eyes looking so adoringly. it was hard to believe that just moment ago, he had killed someone in cold blood. “I know y’dont like that. I didn’t want our night out to end that way… was hopin’ they had the money so we could go get you something pretty.” His frown was laced with irritation before it softened again, lips twitching up. “Mm.. too bad. Guess we’re gonna have t’use some of Daddy’s other money, hm?”

Y/N's eyes welled up with tears as she looked up at Harry, his hand on her cheek was warm and gentle, a stark contrast to the cold brutality he had just displayed. She felt unsettled seeing this side of him, hated the way it made her feel so small and helpless. He wouldn’t stop and she knew that, but she also knew she couldn’t try and change him. "Harry, please..."

“Oh, baby…” He cooed, wiping over her chin. “Don’t cry, my love. Breaks my heart.” It wasn’t that he didn’t understand how it must affect her, but he simply didn’t think of all of it as devastating. The people in that room were bad people. They didn’t deserve mercy. Y/N was a sweet little thing, she saw the good in everyone. She saw they probably had families or lovers and all of that and cared for that rather than the fact they were bad people.

It was endearing, but he did worry for her.

"I know, I know." She sniffled, leaning into his touch. "It's just... hard for me to see you like that. You're always so kind and caring with me. It's hard to reconcile the two."

“Mhm. I know that, my heart. But you’re the only one who gets that side of me. S’all for you, yeah?” It wasn’t a secret. Harry was known for being cold blooded in the underground, and Y/N like a soft, fuzzy little bunny. She’d fallen right into the big bad wolf’s jowls and made a home there, submitting happily and stroking his teeth. He’d never seen himself as a relationship type of man, but the moment he saw her shy away and get flustered from him, he knew she was his. “Don’t need to shed any tears for that man. We’re gonna go get you somethin’ pretty, okay?” Tilting her chin up, he forced her gaze. “C’mon, baby. Give me those eyes.”

"Harry... I-" She swallowed hard, trying to force the lump in her throat down. Her eyes met his and she was met with a sense of warmth and safety. She didn't understand how he could be so violent and yet so gentle with her, but she couldn't deny it made her feel weirdly special.

“Alright. C’mere.” He sighed, pulling her into his lap and tucking her face into his chest. Sometimes it was hard for him to understand how she was so tender hearted and why he of all people had her love, but he had her now and he was selfish. There was no chance of letting go. “Tell me about what you did when I was gone, hm?” In reality he knew almost every detail. His girl was watched 24/7, protected, but she didn’t need to always be aware of it.

"W-well... I mostly just worked at the bakery." She murmured, feeling a sense of comfort in his embrace. She knew he had people around her, but she never felt threatened by them. Instead, she saw them as her protectors.

“Yeah? What did you make?” Even if he had insisted she didn’t need to work, she liked it. He was allowing it for now. She liked to bake and make treats, though he knew she would have been a little sad he wasn’t there to eat them. “Anything new?”

"Um, yeah... I tried making some new cupcakes. Chocolate peanut butter and strawberry basil- not all together though, cause that would be a little cross." She said, her fingers absentmindedly playing with the buttons on his shirt. The girl loved baking new things, but she always hoped he would like them too. It made her happy to see him enjoy her creations.

“Oh, wow. M’a little sad I didn’t get to try them.” His lips ghosted over her forehead, letting his facial hair tickle her skin. “Do you think you’ll be especially nice t’me this week and make them again so I can try?” His attempt of cheering her up was working, thankfully, because he wanted that smile after the bloody week he’d had.

"Maybe... if you beg." She teased, a small smile appearing on her lips. She looked up at him with a sparkle in her eyes, the stress from the day already seeming a little lighter. "But only if you promise to give me a kiss as soon as you get home tomorrow."

His eyes flashed, eyebrow high as she teased him. This was one of his favorite parts of her- how easily she gave into him and his love. Never once did she take it for granted. “Oh, I’ll give you far more than a kiss, little miss.” He purred, thumbing over her lip and watched it snap back into place. God, he loved that fucking mouth. “Daddy’s missed his angel. Been missing you so much while I was away..” Lightly pinching the plump bottom lip, he gazed over her face and saw that she was early getting the message. “Did you miss me too, my heart?”

She nodded eagerly, her heart skipping a beat at the possessive nickname and the gentle pinching of her lip. "I missed you so much, Daddy," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. She loved when he called her his angel or his heart, it always made her feel so cherished and loved. She felt her body relax as she felt his gaze on her, his touch on her face, her lips. She couldn't believe she could miss someone so much, but she did, and his touch was slowly making her calm. There was no doubt in her heart that she could never deny him.

“How much, baby?” He crooned. “How much did y’miss me?”

She swallowed hard, her eyes filling with tears as she looked up at him. "I... I missed you so much, Daddy," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I couldn't sleep at night without you, I couldn't eat without thinking of you, I just... I missed you so much."

Harry grinned widely at her emotional display, smug that he had gotten her here. As fucked up as it probably was, he wanted her to need him. Wanted her to be just as needy for him, crave him, never want to leave him- because there was no way in hell he was letting her go. Y/N belonged to him in every sense of the word. “Oh, my girl.” He chuckled. “I missed you too. M’glad that you think of me while I’m away.. but you don’t need to cry.” His voice was soft just for her, though he didn’t really care if Adam overheard. “S’so nice to have my girl miss me while I’m away. Gives me something to come home to.”

She nodded, wiping at her tears as he chuckled at her. There was nothing more she loved more than she loved that sound. It made her heart soar and her body shiver, it was her favorite sound in the whole world. Being one of the very few people who could make him react like that made her feel special. She loved him so much, and now that he was back, she could just relax in his presence.

“Now… do you want a necklace?” Moving forward, he wanted to spoil her some more. Give her a reward for listening to him while he was away, keeping herself safe. Just like he asked. “A bracelet? Earrings? Mmm… maybe some clothes? What does my angel want me to buy her?”

Y/N sniffled and looked up at him with shining eyes, her smile forming at the prospect of a reward. "A necklace, Daddy," she whispered, her voice trembling with excitement. She loved getting jewelry from him, it made her feel like a job well done. Getting to wear something he had bought just for her had been the best part.. "Something pretty, please?"

“I doubt I can find anything as pretty as you, my heart… but we can try.” His lips pressed against her cheek, before tapping her nose. “Anything for you.”

——

Harry let her pull him around the shop, looking at the glittering jewels and precious stones. His hand firmly in hers, he watched with contentment as she looked over the selection, trying to understand which piece it was that she wanted. “Have you got your eye on anything?”

She shook her head, still staring at the necklaces. None of them seemed good enough for his money- or so she thought. Suddenly, her eyes lit up as she spotted a dainty gold chain with a tiny heart-shaped pendant hanging from it. "Look at this one!" She squealed with excitement as she pulled him over to the necklace display, her hand tightly gripping his. Her eyes sparkled with delight as she pointed at a dainty gold chain with a tiny heart-shaped pendant hanging from it. "Look, Harry! Isn't it perfect?"

“Absolutely.” His grin was gentle as he felt fondness take over his chest. This was the only time he felt this way. The only time he felt gentle and sweet and yearning to feel that all encompassing warmth, it was Y/N that made him happy. It was no wonder he was obsessed with her. Her joy and gratefulness were genuine. There was no hint of being spoiled even if he bought out a whole store. She would take anything, a rock even, and coo over it. He didn’t know much about or have much of an opinion about jewelry, but he did want her to make her feel happy. “There’s a matching bracelet too, you see it? would you like that too?” His fingers ran over her back as he looked back at her pretty face.

She nodded eagerly, feeling his fingers tracing over her back, sending a wave of warmth down her spine. "Yes, please!" Watchin on with glittering eyes as he picked up the matching gold bracelet with a small heart charm, she bounced on the balls of her feet. She watched as he paid for the necklace and bracelet, taking care of it without blinking an eye. There was no second thought as she wrapped her arms around his, tilting her chin up to look at him. The way he looked at her made her feel like the most precious thing in the world.

“You happy, love?” His other tattooed hand stroked over her hair as the sales assistant wrapped up the boxes. “We can do a proper shop later this week and get you some new clothes… know you’ve been good all week, so I think you deserve more than just some pretty jewelry. I’m just a little selfish with my alone time with you tonight.” The man had spent enough time away from her and having to control his hands.

She beamed up at him, nodding her head eagerly. "I would love that, H." she replied, letting out a little sigh of contentment as his hand ran through her hair. The way he pampered her and took care of her made understand just how much he adored her. For a man who could clear a room with a single glare, he sure as hell made it no secret how much he loved her. Spared no expense in taking care of her.

“Good. It’s settled then.” Harry kissed the top of her head before taking the bag holding their purchases. “Let’s get you home so I can see you put them on for me.”

—

When they arrived back to his place, he was quick to scoop her up in his arms. Jewelry bag hanging off his wrist, he held her bridal style as he climbed the staircase. In all honesty? He needed to be truly alone with her for a little bit. The whole time he had been away had been brutal, and to come home and have to go do some work had really fucking irritated him. He wasn’t bothered by the people he’d killed in the last few weeks, but he was bothered by the fact it had taken precious time away from spending with his girl.

She giggled as her body was bounced with each step he took, letting herself lean into him. Y/N safe in his arms, nuzzling her face into his neck as he carried her up the stairs, no complaints as she let him do as he pleased. She could sense the hint of tension in his body, the slight tightness in his jaw, and she knew exactly what it meant. He was stressed, and he needed her. She would never fully grasp the reasons why he did what he did, nor did she ever want to. He was a dangerous man, a killing machine, but he was hers and she loved him regardless. If he was flawed, so was she. Y/N's eyes fluttered closed as she breathed in his scent deeply, her fingers tracing small circles on his shoulder.

“Alright, my heart.” He started lowly, placing her down on to the bed. “Why don’t you put these on for me… and something else pretty.” He tilted her chin up to look at him. Yes, he towered over her, but he liked it that way. Harry liked to be in charge. “Something that shows that gorgeous body, how much of an angel you are. I missed my slice of heaven while I was away.”

Her cheeks flushed at his words, her heart racing with excitement at his request. She loved when he talked to her like this, when he made her feel like a treasure to be admired an cherished. Like he didn’t have access to all the other luxuries in the world, and she was the only one he indulged in. She obeyed, slipping off the bed to go to her dresser.

Harry took the moment to go into the bathroom, freshening up. Taking his shirt off, washing his face and hands, cleaning up whatever could stain his precious girl. The only marks or stains he wanted on her were to be put in by him. Bite marks, mottled bruises from sucking or his thumbs or striking her plush flesh, he’d welcome those and those alone. Leaving the gun in his waistband, he strolled back out of the bathroom and leaned against the doorframe, looking over his pretty girl.

She had listened.

“Oh, sweet little thing. You know how to make me happy.” Lingerie, soft looking and a light blue. his favorite.

Y/N smiled shyly, the grin deepening on her cheeks at his praise. She turned around slowly, giving him a full view of the lingerie he had requested. The light blue material contrasted her skin beautifully, almost making her glow under the room's lighting.

“God…” He sighed, pushing off the doorframe to approach her. “You are my gift. Someone sent the little angel down to hell for me, didn’t they?” Y/N was too bright for his world, but he made sure she knew she was the most important thing in it. “You are so gorgeous, my girl. Makes me so happy…” His fingers brushed the strap of her little babydoll top. “N’You love to make me happy, don’t you?”

Y/N bit her lip softly when he drew closer, a small whimper escaping as his fingers grazed her top strap. Her eyes half-lidded with the desire that he brought her, a soft smile gracing her lips, "Of course, I do... I love you."

“I love you more than you could ever fathom.” He whispered. “I’d kill armies for you. If it wouldn’t upset you, I’d gouge the eyes out of any man who looked too long.” Harry would shed liters of blood for her if need be. “But you’re my personal angel, sent t’make me happy. Sent to show me love… to help me.” his fingers trailed up her throat, gently clasping it in his grasp. He felt her swallow against his palm, a dark smile raising on his lips. “Are you going to help Daddy, baby?” Applying a tiny bit of pressure on the sides of her neck, he watched her eyes get hazy. “Hm? Gonna get on your knees for me and make me feel better?”

Y/N felt herself lean closer to him, the possessiveness and the darkness he exuded was addicting. His pet names for her, so sweet but borderline condescendingz she loved it. The way he touched her making her head feel so empty, but so alive at the same time.

"Yes, Daddy..." she whispered, eyes hooded with her arousal. She'd help him in any way he wished, even if it meant getting on her knees for him. It was what she was made for, his love for her pure and true but his actions wildly darkening that love.

“That’s my girl.” Keeping his hand around her throat, he kissed her hard. He’d been holding back most of the day, knowing he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from letting loose the moment he truly allowed himself to kiss her.

She moaned into the kiss, her hands instinctively going to his chest, nails scratching lightly into the tattooed skin. She could feel the tension radiating off him, his kiss hungry and bruising. It was moments like this that Y/N felt like she truly belonged with him.

The way his hand tightened around her throat made her tummy clench in the best way, the possessive hold sending a thrill down her spine. His lips were demanding, taking everything she could give and more. A metaphor for him. She felt herself getting lost in the kiss, her mind going blank as she gave into him completely.

“Open that mouth.” He demanded darkly. “Stick out that pretty tongue for me, baby.”

Y/N complied immediately, her lips parting and her tongue sticking out, trembling slightly as she looked up at him with wide, adoring eyes. She loved when he spoke to her in that commanding tone, it made her feel so small and helpless in the best way possible.

He groaned deep, pursing his lips and spitting onto her tongue. Y/N knew better than to move, and when he spit a second time, he felt his cock stir as she whimpered for him. “That’s it. Swallow.”

She swallowed his spit as he commanded, not even bothering to close her mouth. Y/N could hear the praise in his tone, and that alone made her heart skip a beat. She would do anything for him; she'd proven that more than once.

“You’d do anything for your Daddy.” Harry crooned, taking his thumb and running it over her tongue. “You filthy little bitch. I love you so much.”

Y/N's eyes welled up with tears at the endearment, her devotion for him more the evident. She loved being called his dirty girl, his filthy bitch, his everything. She nodded eagerly, her mouth still open as she awaited his next command, her tongue still wet from swallowing his spit.

“Get on your knees.” he pulled his touch away momentarily. “Get my cock out. I’m pent up, my girl. Need you to get me relaxed before I take that pretty cunt.”

Without a second thought, she lowered herself down onto her knees as soon as he pulled away. Like the habit it was, she reached to unbuckle his belt and unbutton his pants, taking a deep breath before grabbing the gun he had tucked in there and looked up at him in question.

“Safety’s on, sweetheart. Put it on the bed.”

Y/N carefully placed the gun on the bed, hands slightly shaking before reaching back into his pants to pull out his hard cock, stroking it a few times before looking back up at him, awaiting further instructions. She loved how big and heavy it felt in her hands, and she knew just how to make him relax. He’d taught her just how he liked it. Her plump lips were slightly parted, ready to wrap around his thick cock as she looked up at him, momentarily biting at her bottom lip. Her fingers gripped him tightly as she waited for his permission to worship him.

“Go ahead, pet. Show me how much you missed my cock.” Lazily he wrapped his hand in her hair, pulling her face closer. “Give it some kisses.”

She moaned softly at his dirty words as he pulled her closer to him, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to the tip of his cock before parting her lips wider and wrapping them around his hardness. Slowly, she sucked on the tip, her mouth stretching wide to accommodate his thick girth before popping off and making her way back down. She kissed and licked every inch of his cock, making sure to pay special attention to the head. Her hands fondled his balls, gently rolling them between her fingers as she pulled the tip back into her mouth again, keeping her eyes on him for his approval.

“That’s my filthy girl.” He laughed under his breath, slowly pulling her further down his cock. “Y’don’t know how badly I needed this all week. It was so fuckin’ annoying, y’know that?” Shaking his head, he felt her take what he fed into her mouth with no complaint. “Got half of my clothes soaked in blood… ruined my appetite half the time. And then, when I got back t’my room afterwards I didn’t even have my precious little cunt to fuck afterwards. Wasn’t fair.”

Her lips stretched further down his cock as he pulled her head down, her tongue lapping at his hardness as she listened to Harry's musings about his gruesome work week. She let out a soft, muffled moan around his cock, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through him.

Her mouth felt like a warm, wet heaven on his cock. Every inch that disappeared between her lips was met with a satisfying suckle and the soft cushion of her tongue l. The velvety interior of her mouth enveloped him, her plump lips stretched around his width as her head bobbed up and down ever so slowly. Her saliva coated him, adding a slick layer to her movements as her tongue danced along the underside of his shaft.

His reaction was a pleased groan, his eyes rolling back in his head as he savored the feeling of her mouth on him. Hands tightened in her hair, guiding her head up and down his cock at a pace that was both slow and relentless, giving her time to breathe between sucks.

“Fuck… I needed this.” He sighed, slowly pulling her head off to let her take a breath before pushing her back down, making her take it further. “This perfect mouth. This is the only cock it’s ever gonna take.” He muttered darkly. “Right? You’re mine to fuck?”

"Yes," the gasp was wet in agreement, sound muffled with his cock still filling her mouth. She pulled back to look up at him, eyes wide and pupils dilated with lust. The possessiveness in his voice only made her hotter, making her core clench with want.

He groaned again, the sound deep and guttural as he felt her mouth envelop him again. His eyes glazed over with pleasure, a lazy smile crossing his lips at her words. He tangled his fingers back in her hair, encouraging her over and over again to take him as deep as she could. The room was filled with the sounds of his pleasure. The wet slurping of her mouth on his cock, the occasional moan escaping past her lips. His deep sounds of pleasure, punctuated by occasional curses as she took him deeper than before.

“You love it, don’t you baby? Love taking this cock down your slutty little throat.” He breathed hard, pushing her down until her nose brushed the thatch of groomed hair at his stomach. “Yeah… you do. That’s fucking perfect, choke on it. Choke- yeah, that’s my girl.” he growled, pulling her back and watching the strings of spit web from her mouth to his cock.

She coughed at his words, pulling back to take a much needed breath, but she didn’t stop. She kept her glazed over eyes locked on his, sucking him again as he pulled her back down on his cock, helping her take what they both needed over and over again.

Her chin was a mess, spit stringing from her mouth to his cock with each pull. Her lips were puffy and swollen, her mouth hanging open as she gasped for air between sucks. His cock was glistening with saliva, his balls heavy and slick with each thrust of her head.

“Fuck, yes.” He hissed, feeling his cock pulse inside of her mouth before finally pulling her off. “Need t’be in that cunt. Bend over the bed.”

As usual, Y/N did as she was told, still gasping for breath. She leaned over the edge of the bed, her ass in the air as she braced herself with her arms, spreading her knees wide. Arms shook slightly as she held herself up, her back arched as she presented her ass to him. Her pussy was dripping, the juices running down her thighs and pooling on the bed. Her hole was puffy and slick, the lips slightly parted to reveal her clit, already starting to swell with need.

Harry couldn’t tear his eyes away from her, the sight of her pussy nearly making him cum right then and there. She was so open, so vulnerable, and it was all for him.

“You are a vision.” he murmured, brushing his hand over her. The little angel had forgone panties under her babydoll, the smartest choice when it came to his tendencies. “Poor little pussy… did it miss me, too?” His fingers slid down and over her slippery slit, spreading her open. “Did you touch it while Daddy was gone, getting all the money so he can buy you pretty things?

She let out a soft whimper at his touch, her hips bucking slightly as his fingers spread her open. "Y-yes, Daddy." Shyly, she admitted it, her voice a hesitant whisper. "I missed you so much, and my pussy kept getting wet thinking about you."

“Oh, darling.” He clicked his tongue, shaking his head as he looked down at her. “You know you’re supposed to wait for me…”

She sniffled, her face pressing into the bed as she felt his fingers teasing her entrance. "I'm sorry, Daddy... I just couldn't help it. Every time I thought about you, I would touch myself and imagine it was your fingers inside me..."

“Yeah?” His tone was painted with intrigue. “And what exactly did you dream about Daddy doing to your little holes, hm?”

She let out a soft little moan, her body trembling beneath his touch as she felt his fingers teasing her entrance. "I… I dreamed about you taking me roughly, Daddy. I imagined your thick cock stretching me out and filling me up completely… N’I dreamed about you punishing me for being a bad girl, Daddy," she continued, her voice breathless. "I imagined you spanking me until I cried, and then taking me hard from behind... It made me so wet..."

Harry let out a deep sigh, stroking his cock with his other hand as he admired her bare pussy, glistening and wet. “You know… This is why you’re perfect for me. Such a sweet, angelic little thing most of the time… but let me move wrong, and your filthy cunt is weeping and you’re ready to be a proper whore for me.”

She shivered at his words, her body responding to the word she had been waiting all week to hear. Sure, she knew he wouldn’t be fully pleased at the idea of her touching herself but she knew he would understand this instance. "Yes, Daddy… I can't help it. You bring out this side of me that no one else does. Wanna be your little whore, Daddy, please…” She backed into him. “Use me however you want." Her voice cracked with desperation. "Spank me, choke me, fuck me rough... Just please, make me yours completely. I'm your girl, your little fucktoy... Use me however you see fit."

A chuckle sounded in the room as his hand pulled back, smacking against her wet cunt. Sharp and stinging, he watched her cunt get slicker, ass pushing into him as he did it again. “There she is. There’s my slut.” He sighed in relief. “You know I love you… but you know how much your little holes love to be filled.”

She squealed and writhed at each blow, but her legs apread wider and her moans grew louder. She craved his roughness, craved his filthy words and his cock. All she had been wanting to do was make him feel good, and there was no doubt that they’d both get what they wanted. "Yes, Daddy." She mewled, her body aching for him to continue.

With each slap to her pussy, Y/N's eyes rolled back in pleasure. She was completely at Harry's mercy and she reveled in it. Her body was racked with shudders as he continued to spank her, and her hand snaked down to rub her clit.

“Who told you to do that?” The man scoffed, pushing her hand away. “You had enough self pleasure. Think you forgot about the fact that this cunt belongs to me.” His hand sharply smacked her clit again with his fingertips, watching her body jolt. “Played with this little button while Daddy was out there, covered in blood. All so you can be a little princess at home.”

Her voice was breathy and full of desire as she pleaded with him, "Only because you were gone so long. I needed release, Daddy." She spread her legs wider, silently begging him to touch her again. "Please, forgive me."

“God, you really are a desperate little thing.” He laughed in awe. “If it didn’t drive me mad, I’d leave more often. Make you this desperate for me when I come back… Make you beg and cry for my cock.” The taunt had her shaking her head as he slipped two fingers into her cunt, curling them slightly as he began to fuck them into her. “Tell me you love me.”

"I love you," The girl whimpered, her hips thrusting back to meet his fingers. She was so wet and ready for him, her pussy clenching around his fingers as he fucked her harder. "Please, daddy, I need you so bad."

“Tell me you’ll never leave me.” He pulled his fingers out, teasing his cock over her clit. Using the arousal left in his fingers and the spit as lubrication, he nestled the tip of his cock at her entrance. “Tell me that you’re going to be my little angel forever, and I’ll give you that cock.”

"I'll never leave you," she promised, her voice shaking with need. "I'll always be your little angel, Harry. Forever and ever." She looked up at him with tears in her eyes, desperate for him to claim her as his own. "Please, daddy, fuck me. Need it."

“Never fucking forget it.” His cock was thick, achingly so, as it began spreading her open as he pushed it inside of her. Y/N was always tight, always hot for him, and it never wavered. He let out a little groan as he felt her cunt flutter around him as he pushed himself further inside, wrapping a hand around her hair and tugging her up further. “You’ll never leave me, because m’not gonna let you. M’gonna make you my wife, make you mine in every fucking way possible.” He shallowly jumped into her as he worked his length in.

Her back arched, the stretch feeling oh so good. She moaned and bit her back lip as he pushed the rest of himself inside of her, completely filling her up. His words made her heart surge and tears appeared in her eyes, knowing how hard it would be to remain his calm and rational force.

"Y-yes, daddy," she stammered out, her voice trembling with desire. "Make me yours." She spread her legs wider and pushed her hips up to meet his thrusts, taking him deeper inside of her.

Harry's grip on her hair tightened as he heard her agree, a sly smirk appearing on his face. His thrusts began, deep and slow as he bottomed out each time pushing her further onto the bed with each push inside. His eyes were wild with desire, watching as Y/N submitted to him so readily. It was exactly how it should be, how they both wanted it. “Think we need t’make it official now.” He breathed, hand brushing over as ass. “Think we need to ink my name on this pretty skin. Where should we do it?” Watching his cock sink into her over and over had him worked up. “Should we put it right above your ass, hm? so there’s no doubt I own it?”

She gasped as his hand brushed over her ass, the idea of having his name permanently inked on her body making her shudder. "Yes daddy, I want that." Maybe she was mindlessly agreeing from how good it felt, but she felt slightly crazy for liking that idea. A small moan squeaked out as she felt him thrust deeper, her body aching for more.

"Above your ass, right where I can see it every time I spank it," The man agreed, his hand leaving her ass to reach up and grab her chin, forcing her to turn to look at him. "And maybe a permanent necklace on your neck with my name, so everyone knows you belong to me. Get a nice little lock that only I have the key to." Harry's fingers dug into her chin, his grip unyielding as he held her gaze captive. His other hand never left her ass, occasionally giving it a firm slap as he spoke. "I want to see my name on you, skin or necklace, marked as mine for everyone to see."

She was too good to let go of. He never knew of someone who was so good at keeping him calm and yet able to elicit such extreme reactions from him. He’d always been cold and calculated- it’s how he was good at his jobs- but something in this woman had melted the ice around his heart. Lit him on fire. “Fuck, this ass is mine. This cunt is mine… No other cock is ever going in there again.”

Y/N's cheeks flushed at his possessive words, her body aching for his touch once more. She never wanted to be with anyone else, as Harry had somehow managed to break down the walls she once had up. "Only you, daddy." She arched her back, pressing herself further against him with a soft moan. He has always been a little rough with her, but she loves it, loves him. "Do you want me to say it again? How you’re the only man I want."

Again- she was perfect. He nearly laughed at how she knew exactly what he wanted, making him push her back down so her cheek was on the mattress. “Yeah. Tell me, baby. Need to give your cunt a better fuck.”

Y/N’s heart raced as she felt his strong hands grip her hair, pushing her face into the mattress. She loved when he was rough with her, it only turned her on more. She opened her mouth, speaking softly into the pillow as he demanded. "My cunt belongs only to you, daddy."

She felt his hand run down her back, grabbing a handful of her ass. She was glad she had worn something that showcased her assets for him. "I'm the only one who can make you scream my name, the only one who will ever be deep inside you."

She felt his hand leave her ass, only for it to return with a firm slap. The sting of pain made her gasp, but only served to heighten the pleasure coursing through her body. "Yes!" She cried out as he entered her once more, filling her to the brim.

She shifted her hips down to meet his thrusts, desperate for more contact. "Daddy, deeper. Please, fuck me deeper." She pleaded with him, gripping the sheets tightly as her body arched against him. "Are you going to fill me up, give me what I need?"

“Greedy.” He snarled, picking up the pace. “Greedy little bitch for my cock. For my cum…” The little whimper she let out at the mention made him chuckle. “Yeah… I know what my sweet little whore wants. Jus’ needs my load dripping out of that puffy hole…” He groaned as she clenched around him. “Thought about it when I was gone. How it’s time to make you permanent. Make you my wife…” He felt her buck back into him. “Can quit the job and bake just for me, be a good little housewife for me.”

Y/N's eyes rolled back in ecstasy as he spoke those words. The thought of being his in that way, his wife, it was everything she wanted. She loved the idea of quitting her job and dedicating herself entirely to him, being his perfect little housewife.

"Yes, Daddy. I-I want to be yours like that, wanna be your wife. I'll quit my job and be your perfect little housewife. I'll cook, clean, and bake just for you. I'll wear the clothes you like and do whatever you say. I'll be yours completely. Never wanna to be free from you." She moaned as he slammed into her with renewed vigor. "Do whatever you want with me, as long as you never stop fucking me."

“Fuck… I knew you were meant to be mine.” The answer stroked something in him, a new level of obsession breaking through. He’d known she was going to be his since he set eyes on her, but hearing such a needy and solid agreement to what she should want made his life easier. It was her path, the one he carved out for her. “Oh, baby… m’never gonna stop using your pussy. And that ass…” His thumb rolled over it. “But right now M’gonna focus on that pussy. Think it needs practice for when m’ready to knock you up.”

Her breath hitches at his words, a new surge of pleasure flooding her system. The idea of him breeding her, of making her pregnant with his children, was the most erotic thing she'd ever heard. "Yes- fuck. Please, fill me up with your cum and make me pregnant." She cried out as she felt him thrusting harder and faster, his thumb rubbing her ass as he spoke. The thought of carrying his child was the hottest thing she'd ever imagined. "H-Harry."

The idea was enticing. Even further trap her with him, add another layer to it… He would deliberate later. “Mm.. Just practice for right now, my angel.” His voice softened. “Want t’have you as my pretty little housewife for a bit before I knock you up full, but I’ll give you my cum….” His smile returned. “If you really think you deserve it.”

She nodded eagerly, her eyes wide with desire as she looked up at him. "Mhm, daddy, I deserve it. I'll be such a good little housewife for you. I'll cook and clean and take care of you, anything you want. Just please, give me your cum and practice breeding me."

Harry pulled out of her, grabbing her hips and tossing her into her back before slipping back inside of her. He wanted to see her face, watch her as he said these things and filled up that perfect cunt that was so snug around him. “I’ll kill anyone who wants you.” He murmured. “Gun, knife, my bare hands. I’ll kill them for thinking about you.” His hand collared her throat as he gave slower thrusts, a contrast to his brutal words. “I’ll make it clear to anyone who has the privilege of looking at you that they can’t have you, even in their thoughts. Because you belong t’me, my angel.”

Her face flushed with a mix of arousal and adoration as she looked up at Harry. She knew he would protect her, keep her safe and loved. The possessiveness in his words only added fuel to her desire for him, her body trembling beneath his touch as he choked her gently.

Her eyes watered slightly from the pressure of his hand on her throat, her body squirming and arching towards him with need as he thrust into her again and again.

Nails dug into his back, leaving crescent moons in their wake as she moaned and gasped for breath, her body trembling with pleasure and need beneath him. "Harry..." She whimpered softly, her voice strained and needy as she begged for more. "Please..."

“Yeah? You’re okay with that, my heart?” His eyes were dark and hot, staring into her own. “You don’t mind if Daddy kills for you? Because I’m looking forward to their blood on my hands.” He purred, the deep thrusts getting harder, full balls smacking against her ass. “Won’t mind being pretty in our kitchen, me coming home and washing the blood off my hands before I use them to make you cum?”

Her eyes rolled back in her head as he spoke, the dark promise of his words sending shivers down her spine. She loved how possessive and protective he was, how he would kill for her and make a mess in their home. It was so wrong, so fucked up, but it was everything she craved. That dark piece of her that he had exposed and had embraced was something he cherished, made her feel normal.

Her back arched against the bed, pushing her breasts out and up as she felt herself crawling closer to her climax, every smack of his balls against her ass making her whimper and moan. "Daddy..."

At her plea, Harry's expression twisted into something feral and possessive, his eyes burning with an unholy hunger. He leaned forward, his teeth sinking into the side of her neck as he fucked her harder, his thrusts becoming brutal and punishing.

Y/N's back arched off the bed, her breath hitching at the mix of pain and pleasure. He wanted to claim her, mark her as his while he fucked her to the edge of no return and back.

The bite on her neck made her let out a strangled whimper, a sound filled with pained pleasure and submission. Her hands gripped the sheets tightly, her nails digging into the fabric as Harry fucked her relentlessly, her body bouncing on the bed with every hard thrust. Blood dribbled from the bite on her neck, trailing down her skin as Harry continued to fuck her with vicious abandon. His balls slapped against her ass with a sickening smack, the sound echoing through the room along with her desperate moans and his growled curses.

“That’s fucking right.” He grunted between thrusts. He knew she liked a bit of pain but how tight she had gotten around his cock, how she had gushed, it made him understand that his angel was more of a masochist than he had ever realized. “You’re gonna happily take my dick in those holes whenever I want, because you love me, don’t you? You’ll let me fuck away all my anger and be the sweetest place to unload my cum…” He wanted to hear it again, even with his fingers pressing into her throat. “Tell me, my heart. Use that gorgeous mouth.”

Y/N's eyes rolled back in her head as Harry's words washed over her, his fingers tightening around her throat, smearing the blood on her skin. She struggled to breathe, her vision blurring at the edges as she fought to gasp out air. "Y-yes... I love you... I'll take your dick anywhere... anytime...” It was hard to think straight with his cock hitting her perfectly. "I'll be your toy, your angel, your wife, your everything," She choked out, her voice barely audible over the sound of their harsh panting. Harry's fingers squeezed harder, cutting off her air supply until he let her breath, the rush of air making her shudder. “Wanna cum. Wanna cum, please, H. Please make me cum.”

Harry's reaction was immediate. His thrusts became erratic, his hips slamming against Y/N's ass with feral force as he chased his own release. He released his grip on her throat just long enough to grab her hair, yanking her head back to expose her neck, the teeth marks from the bite, the blood smeared on her skin. She was the prettiest picture, bloody skin, hazy eyes and swollen lips. His personal angel under him, letting him sin with her body. Letting him corrupt her, dragging her down to hell with him. Leaning down, he nuzzled his nose against hers before pulling back. “Cum. Cum for me, make a fucking mess."

As Harry’s release built, so did hers. She could feel the warmth spreading between them, slicking her thighs as she writhed under his grasp. Her whimpers turned into gasps and desperate pleas as he brought her closer to the edge. “Yes, yes...” Y/N could hold back no longer. As her orgasm broke, she arched her back, her nails digging into his arms as she called out his name. The intense pleasure rolled over her again and again, a blinding tidal wave crushing down on her.

Her entire body trembled, shuddered, spasmed as Harry fucked her through the first orgasm as it rolled into another orgasm. The pleasure was overwhelming, the building pressure suddenly released and Y/N’s mind went blank, senses heightened as she experienced a pure moment of ecstasy.

As Y/N's orgasm subsided, Harry let out a guttural moan, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he chased his own climax. His hands tightened around her waist, his fingers digging into her skin as he fucked her harder, faster, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room. “Beg for my cum.” He demanded, slipping his hand up to hold her jaw. “Beg me to make you mine, for me to keep you, and I’ll give you my load.”

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed hard, his grip on her jaw tightening as she looked up at him with wide, trusting eyes. “Please...” she whispered softly, the single word filled with meaning and need. “Make me yours, Harry. Keep me for your own. “I beg you, Harry...” Her voice was a soft murmur, barely audible as she whispered her plea. “Please cum inside me, make me yours. I want to feel you fill me up, I want to bear your mark.”

Harry's eyes squeezed shut as he reached orgasm, his body tensing and freezing as he released inside Y/N with a groan. The grip on her tightened, fingers digging into her skin as he felt his orgasm tear through him, so much pleasure that he almost felt pain.

Thick ribbons of cum shot deep inside her, coating her insides and marking her as his own. Harry's hips continued to jerk, his body shudders with each pulse of his release, as if he couldn't get enough of her, couldn't get deep enough. His cock throbbed and spasmed, pumping out an endless stream of hot, sticky cum into her waiting cunt. The room filled with the sound of his grunt, the slap of his hips against her ass, and the gush of his seed inside her. He felt her legs wrap around his hips, pulling him deeper. A satisfied groan escaped him, a sex drunk smile raising on his face as he kissed her deep, messy, but he didn’t care. He was happy for the first time since he’d left her side to go on ‘business’.

Y/N's arms wrapped tightly around Harry's neck, holding him close as he continued to fill her with his cum. She kissed him back just as deeply, her lips moving against his in a sloppy, loving mess. She moaned into the kiss, feeling so full and satisfied, so loved and cherished. Even with how rough he got, how dirty their need was, there was no doubt in her mind how he felt.

“There you go, my heart. Take every drop.” He murmured, slowly fucking the cum into her. “Practicing making it stick. This is how M’gonna knock you up, when I feel the time is right.” He brushed the hair out of her face, body feeling lighter and head less cluttered. Y/N was his medicine, his heart. “I love you. You’re never leaving me.”

A blush spread across her cheeks at Harry's words, a soft smile on her lips. "I love you too," She whispered back, pulling him closer for another deep kiss. She could feel the warmth of his cum inside her, a reminder of how much he had craved her.

“Good.” He stroked over the bridge of her nose and down to her lips, smearing their spit around. “M’gonna make that appointment for my name right above your ass. You’re going to quit that job and be my little housewife, and you’re gonna love every bit of it.”

She giggled at his words, her heart swelling with happiness. "I'd love that," she replied, her voice soft and full of affection. She could already imagine it, waking up every morning to make him breakfast and taking care of their future children.

“Yeah? That’s my girl.” He didn’t mention that now that his mind was made up there wasn’t much room to move the plan, but she knew that. Y/N knew that Harry loved her, but he was in charge. “Gonna take you on a shopping spree tomorrow, get you that ring…” It wasn’t the most romantic proposal but it didn’t need to be. Harry had decided she was going to marry him, and she would do it because she was good and she loved him right back.

He hated himself for it, but he hated it even more when he would be painting his stomach with white streaks and barely whispering remnants of your name.

And now, as he sits across from you and his son at the dinner table, he hates himself for finding you so pretty.

His eyes keep lowering to look at your grey and white striped tank top — not because he was trying to look at your cleavage but because it fits you perfectly. You kept fidgeting with the top hem of your shirt as if you were ensuring it wasn’t shifting too low. He thought it was cute.

Your voice left him in a trance; he wasn’t paying attention to the conversation, but he enjoyed hearing you rave and ramble about the movie you just went to.

The real mood killer was Jacob — “Okay, we get it. It was a good movie,” he snapped.

“Jacob,” Harry scolded. Though the pout you absentmindedly wore told Harry that it was pointless.

Jacob made an incredulous face and slightly shrugged. “What? She’s been talking about the movie for ten minutes. I feel like I saw the damn thing.”

“Well, I happen to like spoilers.” Harry meant it as a joke in hopes of lightening the mood, but once he saw the slight smile on your face, he felt a sudden rush of protectiveness.

How he could appreciate you more than his son did was beyond him. Harry just hoped it wasn’t a more significant issue behind closed doors.

Over the next few months, Harry had been seeing less and less of you and even managed to overhear some of the times Jacob had been arguing with you over the phone.

From the only half of the conversation he could hear, Harry gathered that you were upset that Jacob was spending more time with “friends” than you, which led Harry to believe it was more of an indication of cheating. He stayed tightlipped about it because he had no desire to stir up any unnecessary drama, but his curiosity grew as time passed.

So when he saw you grabbing some cereal in the grocery store on a random Tuesday, he wasted no time approaching you.

You seemed surprised at him calling your name but gave him a welcoming smile nonetheless.

“Hi, Harry, how are you?”

“I’m alright, how ‘bout you, love? Feel like I haven’t seen you around lately.”

Your smile nearly dropped completely. “Yeah, uh. Jacob and I are just going through a tough time right now.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Harry said softly, not really meaning it. “My son aside, I do actually enjoy your company. I mean, you’re the only twenty-four year old I know that likes U2.”

That made you chuckle. “Oh, is my seasoned music taste the only thing I have going for myself,” you bantered.

He tried to contain his blush as if it were even possible. “No, not at all,” he sarcastically replied. “You also don’t use like or totally after every other word.”

You laughed harder at that, maybe a little more than necessary, but it was nice to be complimented on things other than how ‘good you give head.’ or ‘how good it is to spill in your mouth’

A few minutes later, you told Harry you have to get going, and for some reason, he took it as the chance to say, “Next week, they’ll have that new Daniel Craig movie in theaters. I was wonderin’ if you’d want to go. I remember you said something about it.”

You smirked up at him and narrowed your eyes slowly. “Are you asking your son’s girlfriend on a date, Mr. Styles?”

Kind of, he thought.

“No! No, fuck,” he hissed, pinching his nose bridge and squeezing his eyes shut. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make it sound like that.”

And there’s another cute laugh coming out of you. “I’m teasin’. I think it might be a little weird, y’know?”

“Jake can come if you want. Doesn’t have to just be you and me.”

“Mmm… I kinda don’t want him to,” you admitted. “He’ll just complain the whole time. We’re friends, right? Let’s go, just you and me.” Your optimism plastered a smile on his face, and you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t think it was cute. He agreed, and you both said your goodbyes.

As you walked away, you felt a pang of guilt for some reason. It wasn’t a date, but it did feel like one. This sudden need to impress Harry Styles (formerly anticipated father-in-law) made you feel weird.

But you thought of all the nights you spent home alone watching movies because your boyfriend was out late again. And again. And again.

After a long and stressful internal debate inside a bath with some Epsom salts, you decided not to care.

So what if you wanted to dress up and wear a little makeup to (hopefully) catch your boyfriend’s dad’s attention? It's not like your boyfriend didn’t spend time doing body shots off of some random girl at the furthest bar across town.

A little male attention wouldn’t hurt anything, right? 

Besides, you didn’t think Harry would actually care. Pretending it was a date was purely just for your entertainment.

So when the day came, you practically ran outside the second you got a text message from him saying he was there. He chewed on his bottom lip to restrain his grin as he watched you walk towards his car, wearing a denim mini-skirt and a white top.

Your hair was neat and tucked behind your ears, and you were visibly wearing more makeup than usual.

He felt flattered, entertaining the idea of you putting in a little extra effort just for him.

The ride to the theatre wasn’t as tense as you had anticipated. You both spent it to talk about the previous movie and the theories you both had for the new one.

While you both were excited to see the actual movie, neither of you could stop noticing the small details about each other.

He smelled your lotion. You smelled his body wash and cologne.

He noticed your new earrings. You caught him smiling a lot more.

He looked at you every chance he got. You waited until he looked away to look at him.

He insisted on paying for your tickets and food at the theatre, then led you to the “best seats” in the viewing room. Not a date, your ass. He even looked like he put effort into buying a new pair of jeans.

The tension inside you grew as soon as the movie began. And fucking hell, you didn’t know you could get so horny so fast. It was stupid little things that made you clench your thighs occasionally.

No fingers brushing. No elbows touching. Nothing like that.

Instead, it was the sound of his fingernails scratching the thin layer of scruff along his jaw, how he occasionally readjusted in his seat and seemingly spread his legs a little more, and when he would look over at you to ensure you were enjoying the movie.

This had gone a little further in your head than you intended, but you didn’t fucking want it to stop.

Maybe halfway through the movie, he realized you hadn't opened any of your candy. You always ate candy during a movie; it was something Jacob found cute when you first started dating and something Harry grew accustomed to long before his crush even developed. Harry even made it a point to keep a stash for when Jacob had you over for movie night.

He felt a little silly for hyper-fixating on such a weird and relatively small detail, but then he saw your legs clench together. He tried telling himself you were only readjusting your position, but then you sighed in a peculiar tone. The sigh that Harry always let out when he was sexually frustrated.

He would have continued telling himself he was reading too much into it, but another soft sigh left your lips, and suddenly, all he could think about was having you beneath him making the same pretty noises.

All the signs were there, but who would initiate it, and how? He worried he bit off more than he could chew by inviting you here. It only got more difficult to ignore when his cock stiffened inside his jeans, rolling his eyes at the fact that he wasn’t in the comfort of his own home to take care of it.

You noticed his hand palming his jeans and glanced over at him, only to see his erection throb against his pants, hard.

Knowing you’d probably regret it, you put your hand beneath the armrest and suddenly rested your hand high up on his thigh. His body tensing made you halt any more sudden movements, but nothing suggested he wanted you to stop.

He searched for the strength to push your hand off and tell you to stop, that this was wrong, and to remind you of your assumed loyalty to his son.

But he didn’t want that at all.

He liked having your hand on his thigh where it felt like it belonged, painted nails drawing small circles along the denim.

What he truly needed was for this fucking movie to be over. Once it finally was, he wasted no time getting you back into his car.

“Harry?” Your voice was fragile and soft, and you wondered why he hadn’t made a move yet or at least started the engine. “Should I not have done that?”

“What were you thinkin’?” Was all he could think to ask.

“Guess I wasn’t.”

“No. You shouldn’t have done that.”

“I’m sorry…”

“You will be.”

You don’t remember who initiated it or climbed in the backseat first. All you knew was that you were looking at the back of a building, the mall, or something, and you heard Harry grunting next to your ear while his hips slammed against your ass.

You felt a soreness forming around where his rough hands were holding you, but you didn’t flinch or pull away. You leaned into the meanness of his grip, allowing it to satiate all of that burning desire running along your flesh.

“Oh my God, Harry, ye-yes.”

His name dripping so effortlessly from your lips only urged him to fuck you even faster, his car no doubt shaking violently because of it, some metal underneath made that obnoxious creaking sound to verify.

“You like that, huh,” he groaned; his fingers wrapped around the cuff of your elbow to meet his body halfway with the thrusts. “Needy fuckin’ girl. Takin’ me so well-agh!“

“So deep,” you huffed out.

“C’mere.”

Harry carefully turned your body around, sitting you back against the door before sliding his cock back inside of you with ease from how wet you were.

“Harry,” you moaned without reason, eyes fluttering shut as the curve of his shaft continued to rut into that sensitive spot.

He pulled the strap of your tank top down to find you braless. Of course. He smirked and licked his thumb and index finger before giving your stiff nipple a soft pinch.

Your breath shuddered at the surge of pleasure, and then he did the same thing to your clit with his other hand.

“Oh my fucking-“ You cut words off with a deep moan, finding it a little silly that such a slight squeeze to your clit could make you melt the way it did.

“Tha’ feel good, baby?” He asked, voice hoarse from choking back his own moans.

You hummed and nodded, something he thought was cute and began to rub your clit forcefully with his big thumb. Your mind felt numb from all of it, so much pleasure releasing itself.

Looking up at Harry made you feel so small, protected, and cared for. Looking down between your legs, he looked so focused on making you feel good.

“He doesn’t fuck you like this, does he?”

You shot your wide-eyed gaze up at him, surprised at his sudden appraisal of his son.

He chuckled and took his hand from your breast to softly hold your chin. “You gettin’ all shy on me now, girl?” Suddenly, he fell to an achingly slow rhythm and curled his hips into yours instead of his previous thrusting. “…I thought you had a bit more confidence than that.”

You scowled at his taunts, not sure what to say back. You just wanted to fucking cum. Noticing your lack of response made him chuckle again.

“What? My son don’t fuck you stupid like this?” He whispered onto your lips.

“…No,” you finally whimpered.

You felt a weird rush of emotion pass through you; the father of your boyfriend talking down on him while simultaneously fucking you didn’t turn you off like it maybe should have… If anything, it pushed you closer to the edge.

Harry raised his eyebrows in amusement and half smiled at your flushed face. “No?” His finger still made loops around your clits, his cock drenched in your heat. He wanted you to feel all of it.

“You make me feel so good, Harry.” You reached up to give him a chaste kiss.

“You take me so well, honey,” he said against your neck. “I want you to cum for me. Can you do that, baby? Hmm?”

You whispered out your confirmation and grabbed a hold of his greying hair. You wanted to memorize this moment thread by thread. His hair smelled of shampoo and his beard of coffee, but his arms and chest smelled like him with the hint of sweat that made your eyes roll to the back of your head. God, how you could just bathe in him, cumming and unfolding in his strong arms. 

“Oh- Harry, I’m cum—I’m cumming,” you choked out. He said something about how good you were that you couldn’t quite process.

You held onto him tightly and cried out at the sensation of your knotted-up tension unraveling inside you like a Christmas present just waiting to be opened up. It fluttered and filled every corner of your mind, all while you moaned his name. You couldn’t even confuse it with his son’s. Harry.

Harry just worked better in your mind than Jacob ever could. Harry worked your body better, too. Maybe even a little better than you.

Your mind was so fucking blank that you almost didn’t feel Harry collapse onto you as he finished himself, moaning your name and running his hands all over you as if to savor it. He kissed you softly, slowly pulling out of you, and discarded the condom somewhere.

“So pretty when you cum.”

You lazily giggled at the compliment and sat up to grab your panties, but Harry snatched them from your weak hand. He took your legs and rested them in his lap to slide the fabric up your calves and thighs. You just watched and smiled at his further appreciation for your body as he did the same with your skirt.

“You really know how to treat a lady,” you playfully cooed, reaching for another kiss that he returned, savoring it.

He bashfully smiled, like his mind was elsewhere. “You know we can’t do this again, right?”

“We will,” you quipped, confidence returning; he glanced over at you and frowned, confused at the sly grin you wore proudly. You climbed onto his lap and ran your nails over his facial hair, trailing over his pursed lips and furrowed eyebrows. “The more you fight it, the more you’ll need me, Harry.”

And fuck, were you right.

Weeks. He waited weeks after that encounter to see you. Weeks, he felt disappointed when you didn’t attend the weekly dinner that Harry and Jacob agreed upon him moving out.

He no longer felt guilty touching himself to thoughts of you. He was angry. Why couldn’t you just say you agreed with him instead of letting him know there was an opportunity to do it again? Why make yourself available to anyone other than his (shitty) son?

That anger turned into thirst when you finally decided to show up for Jacob’s small birthday dinner. Aunts, uncles, and cousins gathered to wish the only child a happy birthday. Meanwhile, Harry couldn’t tear his eyes away from you the second you walked in — partially because he wasn’t expecting you to show up after not seeing you for a while, but he’d never seen you wear something so… Short.

As possessive as he wanted to be, he knew he had to keep his composure not to reward you the satisfaction and keep his promise to himself. What he hadn’t considered is that you would not make those same promises.

While Harry finished preparing the food, you told Jacob you’d help bring everything else out so he could sit around the living room and talk to his family and friends.

You took the unnecessary route and grazed your chest against Harry’s elbow as you reached into the refrigerator to grab some drinks before taking them to the other room. You made as many sly little trips like that, not looking at or towards Harry whatsoever but making sure he was looking at you.

You saved Harry’s beer for last. You always brought him his beer once you realized he usually had one before eating dinner any time you were over. It wasn’t anything malicious or sneaky until now.

You grabbed the brown glass bottle and stood next to him. Finally giving him the satisfaction of looking at him, you twisted the cap off and wrapped your lips around the cold rim, tilting the glass up and tasting some of the orange-flavored liquid, lips coming off the bottle with a pop.

Those lips. That noise. It filled his mind with the image of you a second ago, only instead of a beer bottle, he imagined his hard cock.

He watched carefully as you licked up a running droplet from the side of the neck; you held the bottle up for him to take, and tensely, he did so.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” His usual response but in a more sultry tone.

It made you blush and stare at him like he hung the stars and moon every night for you. “You’re welcome, Harry.”

He kept his eyes on you as you walked away for the last time, thinking about everything he wanted to do to you.

His hands were firm, clasped tightly around your wrists. His body pressed into your back while he pushed you against the wall. He hated that you were laughing. That you thought this was a funny game.

He thrusted into your ass without care, hurting you slightly with the pressure. He grabbed a hold of your hair and yanked it. He almost smiled at you, yelping out.

“Where’s that little fucking smile at now, huh,” he gritted. Then he planted a hard smack to your cheek, not bothering to soothe it the slightest bit. “You think you can just tease me and test me and fucking treat me however you want? Hmm? Think you can walk around with your ass damn near hangin’ out of this fucking dress?”

A tear rolled down your burning cheek as you whimpered, “I’m sorry, Harry. I w-wanted your attention.”

“You got what you wanted. Don’t fuckin’ cry about it now.”

Feeling your panties fill with a warm desire, you felt pathetic and weak.

Do I like that, you wondered, feeling used and being hurt?

You got your confirmation from the dumb little whimper you let out when you felt Harry’s body release from you. He boots thumping against the floor a few times before the bed creaked from his body weight.

“Get on your knees,” he ordered.

You pushed away from the wall and tiptoed to him. He almost felt bad for making you cry, but you were pushing his fucking buttons all night long. You sank to the floor, sitting on your bare feet and looking at him through wet eyelashes. Harry was more than glad that Jacob decided to go to a party with his friends and even more pleased that he didn't ask questions when you said you'd stay to help Harry clean up.

“I’m sorry, Harry-“

“You will be.”

You softly smile at him, repeating those words, knowing this time he meant it.

His eyes were cold and shallow when they stared into yours as his hands worked to undo his belt buckle. The metal teeth clanking together made you shudder, and you tried your best to keep your eyes locked with his.

“You misbehave once, and this belt goes ‘round your neck,” he warned, “we clear?”

You bashfully nodded, thankful he accepted it as an answer. Though you secretly hoped he would do it already, knowing you were bound to back talk him at some point.

Harry began to undo his jeans, and he made a ticking noise behind his teeth, ruminating on how you played with him at the table.

“Playin’ with my cock under the table,” he grunted, pulling his jeans down to his knees, “what kinda girl are you?”

“It’s been too long since I’ve seen you, felt you,” you said, glancing down at the growing erection beneath his plaid boxers. “I was being needy.”

“Yes, you were,” he simpered, “but you know I like that.”

You hesitated for a second before jumping into his lap and kissing him. Thrown off, it was a moment until he relaxed into your body, grasping the sides of your waist and hungrily kissing you back with a groan emitting from his throat.

He tasted like a man. He smelled like a man. Beer and body wash and perspiration drowning your senses. Your pussy ached when he slipped his beer-coated tongue into your mouth, sloppily licking around the ridges of your teeth and lips, tasting your chapstick and that one sip of alcohol you stole from him a couple of hours prior.

He felt your shaky hands reach to pull his cock out of his boxers; you pumped it slowly with one hand between your bodies, causing his moans to fall into your mouth.

He got a hold of your tits and massaged them gently before giving your nipples both a hard pinch, making you yelp and pull away from him. After chuckling at your pouty face, he grabbed hold of your hair and pulled it to his liking, almost treating you like a rag doll.

“Need you to suck my cock,” he choked out, sounding almost as if he were pleading with you to do it.

“Are you asking?”

He tugged your hair a little harder to signal he was not asking.

“Yes, sir.”

He watched intently as you stripped down to your panties and sat back in your previous position on the floor, taking his pants off and propping your arms on his burly thighs. He leaned back after unbuttoning his shirt and watched your tongue lick up a thick bead of precum from his tip, and you swallowed it without a second thought.

You drooled and spit all over his cock, wanting to make it a little messy for him, and even spreading some around his balls which made him incandescently moan.

And finally, you took him into your mouth, slobbering and sucking and moaning away around his girth. Your hand pumped to the sane rhythm of your mouth while gently squeezing and twisting it to add to his pleasure.

Harry’s head fell back in ecstasy; he couldn’t hold back his moans even if he wanted to. Your mouth was so warm and inviting, and it felt so fucking good. Your tongue lapping away as you sucked drove him crazy, and he found himself wondering why the fuck his son was cheating on you.

“That’s it, baby—mnh, fuck,” he encouraged. “Just like that. Ohh, just like that.”

His hand stroked your hair, and you looked up at him from the touch. Those eyes of yours made his thighs twitch and his stomach contract.

He wanted to punish you for making him wait, for teasing him, for being so fucking irresistible… But he couldn’t. Not now, at least. He felt weak beneath you, out of control. And he loved it: watching you take control of him, his dick. The slurping noises coming from your mouth not only suggested that you knew what you were doing but that you fucking loved it.

Your lips humming around him and creating webs of spit and precum made his dick harder than he had ever felt it. He was so close already, dire for his release, and it didn’t help when you surprised him with a rough thrust into your throat.

It hurt a lot, but that’s what you wanted. To ruin yourself for him. Show Harry what he could be getting every fucking night. Tears ran down your cheeks as you put him further down your throat until your nose was buried into the black and grey hairs surrounding the base of his cock.

He cried out your name and obscenities, saying, “Please,” for something, but you were not sure what exactly. His trembling thighs began closing around your head, not aiding in the lack of oxygen you had left, but he tried to fight it. You refused to let up on him, only swallowing hard and gagging harder, waiting for him to shoot his cum down your throat.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck! Oh fuck, no one- agh—no one’s ever fucking gone that deep-“

That’s what he was pleading for: he wanted you to quit. He didn’t want to cum so soon. But he tasted so good, and you had gotten him so fucking close, you couldn’t see yourself quitting now.

You pulled your head up to mess with Harry’s head, making him think you were listening. But you only went back down, making him pull your hair to stop you from disobeying him. Your lips departed from him with a pop, the same pop that he'd heard when you took a sip of his drink. It made him all the more desperate.

Despite your coughing and choking, he slipped his belt around your neck and looped it, not saying anything to ridicule you and simply tugging at the belt roughly. You choked a little more and then smiled at him, drool dripping down your chin onto your breasts. The sight was purely pornographic. Your lips were puffy, your face red, eyes dark and welling up, tears streaks on your cheekbones.

“Since you wanna fucking choke on something so bad…”

He tugged at the belt once again to emphasize his point. He stood up and yanked the leather to guide you where he wanted, yet that proud look never left your face. You were on all fours on the bed as if you were on display for him, and he stood behind you, pressing his thumb to your slit and spreading your juices around lazily.

You hummed at the small amount of friction and arched your ass up for him. Wiggling your hips in desperation, he smacked your ass hard enough to sting, the echo in the room ringing against your eardrums.

Harry smacked his fat tip against your asshole smirking when he felt it pucker; he took his wet cock in his hand, pumping it a few times before allowing it to sink inside of your needy cunt. You found yourself burying your face into the sheets as he began fucking you, the tug around your neck digging deeper as Harry maintained his grip on it.

“Such a fucking slut, so wet from just sucking my cock,” he spat, watching his cock disappear into your swelling pussy over and over and over. “S’it feel good, baby?”

You nodded, arching your back even more to feel him reach deeper and whimpering whenever his tip brutally bumped your cervix.

Suddenly, you felt a firm yank against your neck. “Use your words.”

“Feels so good, Harry,” you answered.

A swell of desire fills your belly, growing each time he thrusts into that sweet little spot inside of you. You’re clawing at the bed, reaching your neck forward to apply the satisfaction of not being able to breathe.

His free hand pressed against the swell of your ass, gripping it tightly as his hips snapped against the back of your thighs, making a clapping sound fill the room. You moaned into his duvet, slobber trailing out of the corners of your mouth. His balls hitting your clit with every thrust gave you the added pleasure you needed to finish if he kept this rhythm, but his voice was what you needed to send you over the edge.

"Such a pretty fucking pussy," he groaned. "Love how you squeeze my cock with it. Ohh, yeah, that's it, baby. You need to cum? Hmm? Does this pretty pussy need to cum?"

Your moans, muffled by the sheets, resulted in him pulling the belt up enough to make you lift your head so that he could hear you more clearly. "Yes yes yesss, Harry- MNH, oh fuck yes, please please."

He never forgot how your body gave away when you needed to cum; your body heaved with anticipation, your knuckles turned pale from your tight grip, your walls clung to him tighter than what was comfortable (which he fucking lived for then and now), and your moans heightened in pitch and volume. He couldn't punish you when you sounded so sexy screaming his name, it was his biggest weakness.

"I know, baby, I know. You can come," he encouraged sweetly, massaging the dip in your back to help relax you. "Cum for me, sweetheart. Need to feel you- fuck- cum for me."

And a few seconds later, you were convulsing beneath him from the tight coil inside of you finally breaking into shreds. The belt being pulled tighter around your neck rendered you helpless as it created the euphoria of what felt like nearly passing out. The fuzzy vision and the black spots sent your mind into a daze, or it could have been the lack of air. Your eyes grew heavy as your orgasm persisted from Harry's lack of mercy for your cunt. He just pounded away like you were made for him and his enjoyment only, and it thrilled you even more.

He grabbed your shoulder gently to bring your back to his chest and let go of the belt. You breathed heavily, and Harry kissed your jaw endearingly, his beard scraping your skin.

"So good f'me, you know that?" He moaned against your ear. His eyes fluttered shut when his hand went to cradle your chin, and he felt all of the saliva and tears coating your face. 

"Can't take it," you mumbled.

Your cunt was aching and sore, still pulsing from the harsh climax you had to endure with him not easing up at all. Your lips were swollen from his rough pounding, and your ass was burning from his hairs scratching against you. His cruel laugh filled your ears and made even more tears fall from your eyes.

"Fucking ruined you," he chuckled, earning another moan from you. "You can take it, baby. I know you can. I know you can be a good girl for me. Gonna fill you up with my cum- mmngh... Make sure this pussy knows it belongs to me."

"It does," you huff out, reaching to hold onto his forearms. "Not anyone else. Not even me. Just for you, Harry. It's all yours. Not even Jacob's."

That sent him over the edge. A pathetic whimper followed by a moan left his hoarse throat while he gave you one last powerful thrust. That cold feeling of guilt flooded his body and turned him on even more; he relished in the confidence you reclaimed, knowing that the guilt and secrecy of it all also turned you on in the darkest of ways.

"Fuck," he shouted as the last of his spend poured inside of your sore pussy. He placed a gentle kiss on your lips and slowly pulled out of you to sit beside you on the bed before you climbed to straddle his thighs. "You're amazing," he whispered against your lips whilst unraveling the belt from your neck. "You know you really are gonna help me clean up," he teased, sending you into a short fit of laughter.

"Only if we get to make one more mess, Mr. Styles."

////

In fact, after the evening you’d spent with Curtis and Ari’s other oldest friend, Lloyd Hansen—when your trucker had given them permission to use you however they wanted in exchange for some favors—you were excited to be Curtis’s birthday gift. You’d liked the big, grumbling bar owner, and you wanted to make his birthday special. 

As part of his gift, Ari had let Curtis pick out what you’d wear. So you strolled into Everett’s Roadhouse on the night of Curtis’s birthday wearing the sweetest little sundress you owned—and nothing else besides the shoes on your feet. 

The dress was a bright white cotton with little flowers dotted all over it, and short enough to swirl around your upper thighs. The sweet little garment was at odds with your surroundings in the dive bar, which were grimy and dirty, lit by dim lightbulbs and flickering neon beer signs. It made you stand out immediately.

As soon as you entered the bar, every man in the establishment turned to look at you, their gazes ranging from drunken interest to greedy hunger. Even with Ari at your side, his posessive hand on your lower back, they couldn’t seem to drag their covetous eyes away from you, like you were an oasis in the desert.  

It took you a moment to understand the attention, but when you did, a delicious tremor of excitement raced down your spine—you were the only woman in the whole building. The bar was closed for Curtis’s private party, and the only people in attendance were his friends, who were all rough-looking men that you presumed were mostly truckers or old friends like Ari. 

You wondered, not for the first time since Ari had told you his plans for his friend’s birthday, what exactly Curtis would do with you. You knew Ari’s rules would save you from anything too unpleasant, but there was so much they didn’t cover. The possibilities of how Curtis might use you made your pussy tingle with anticipation.

Ari’s hand was firm on your lower back as he guided you further into the bar, your wedge sandals sticking slightly to the filthy wooden floors of the roadhouse. The gazes of all the men you walked past slid over your bare skin like oil, the sensation settling heavily between your thighs, where a sensual warmth bloomed. 

That warmth only grew the closer you got to Curtis, who stood half a head taller than any man in the bar. The imposing bear of a man was leaning against the bartop, talking with someone about something, his broad shoulders and thick biceps stretching the limits of his black t-shirt. Curtis’s blue eyes were bright in the dingy lights of the bar, contrasting against his pale skin, dark beard and shorn hair. 

When you finally arrived at the circle of men gathered around Curtis, Ari gave you a shove through the crowd and you stumbled toward the bar owner. It was only when Curtis fumbled to catch you in his arms—the stench of beer thick on his breath—that you realized he was already so drunk, he could barely stand, and that was why he’d been leaning against the bar. 

“Hey there, bambi,” he slurred, his arms loosely circling your waist. His hands slid down to grope your ass, but Curtis must’ve forgotten he was still holding a beer, because you felt it tip. A second later, cold liquid spilled over the plush curves of your ass.

Instinctively, you squealed his name, “Curtis!” The cold beer was running down the valley between your cheeks, making you squirm in his arms. You tried to get away from the spilling liquid, but you ended up pressing closer to Curtis’s massive, burly chest, practically climbing the tall man with your fingers fisting in his t-shirt and your body plastering to his.

Thankfully, Curtis didn’t mind in the least. He managed to right his beer and chuckled, looking down at you fondly, his mouth curled in a devastating smirk even as his eyes were hazy with drink. The alcohol seemed to have softened Curtis’s rough edges, and he appeared almost warm—nothing like the grumbling man you’d met previously.

“Damn, bambi, ya just got here,” he said, loud enough for the men closest to him to hear. “And yer already trying to jump on my dick like some kind of slut, huh?” He chuckled darkly and his friends joined in, making heat creep up your neck and fill your cheeks. 

But you didn’t deny it.

Instead, you recovered yourself quickly, forgetting the beer still plastering your dress to your ass and pressed closer to Curtis. Wrapping your arms around his neck and pushing your tits against his broad chest, you enjoyed the way his eyes dipped lazily down to your low-cut neckline. 

“I’m yours for the night, big man,” you purred, your body warming and responding to being pressed so tight against Curtis’s muscled chest. It wasn’t difficult to let a seductive smile curl your lips. “You can do anything you want with me.” 

A grin spread slowly across Curtis’s face, the expression lecherous on his handsome features as he leered down at you. 

Before he responded, though, his gaze shifted over your shoulder, and he gave a quick nod. You knew without looking the gesture was meant for Ari—an acknowledgement that Curtis remembered your trucker’s rules and understood he couldn’t do anything. But close enough. 

Curtis’s free hand groped your ass hard as he turned to the crowd, taking a swig of his beer before calling out to his friends.

“Didja hear that fellas?” he crowed, his excited energy riling up the throng of men, all of whom seemed to be as drunk or drunker than Curtis. “Ari’s little cock slut said I get to do anything I want with her tonight!” 

A cheer rose up from the crowd, men all around you raising their glasses in the air while they yelled so loud it felt like a physical cloud of excitement. The energy was infectious, an eager grin curving your lips as you looked around at all the truckers and degenerates who were celebrating your objectification as a free use fuck toy.

Out of curiosity, you turned to look for Ari among them. You found your trucker standing still and quiet, watching you, a glass of amber liquid in one hand. His arms were crossed over his broad chest and he wore a devious little smirk on his face that had your body warming with arousal. Even though he wasn’t joining in on the deafening cheer, you knew he was just as excited by the prospect of seeing you used by Curtis as everyone else.

Before Ari could direct you to look back at Curtis, the big man you were plastered against got your attention with his next words, shouted to the crowd.

Curtis had waited until the cheering died down a little to ask, “So what should I do with her first?”  

Obscene suggestions were hurled at you and Curtis, men’s voices blending into a cacophony of depravity. The things the crowd wanted Curtis to do to you ranged so wildly from nearly tame to absolutely vile that it made your head spin. Ari’s rules would prevent the worst of the suggestions, but not everything that Curtis’s friends were calling out, and you wondered with a twisted shiver of excitement what your trucker’s friend would pick to do to you.

“POUR YOUR BEER ON HER!”

Curtis’s whole body turned to the voice that had called out that last suggestion, dragging you along with him since your arms were still looped around his neck, his hand still holding your ass. Curtis pointed at his friend with his beer, some of it sloshing onto the floor with the fervor of the gesture.

“Now that’s an idea,” he shouted to the man in the crowd you couldn’t see. Curtis tipped his beer in his friend’s direction then took a swig. He looked down at where you were still pressed against his chest, your body hanging from where your arms were holding onto him. “Get on your knees, bambi.” His voice was rolling thunder, so deep and dark, it sent tiny, pleasurable zaps of lightning through your nervous system. 

The speed with which you detached yourself from Curtis and dropped to your knees had the men all around you whistling in appreciation. You heard more than a few of them mutter things like, “What a good, well-trained slut,” and “Gotta get me a girl like that.”

You preened and beamed with pride at the praise, finding Ari in the crowd again and hoping your behavior reflected well on him. He’d been the one to train you to follow orders so well, after all.

Your trucker gave you a small nod of recognition that made happiness burst in your chest, and you turned back to Curtis with a happy bounce of your hips. You couldn’t help but notice the low groans that came as a result of the little movement and you smiled wider.

The wooden floor was sticky beneath your bare knees, but you paid it no mind. You suspected—and you’d turn out to be right—that you’d be dirtier and filthier than even the floor of Everett’s Roadhouse before the night was through. The excitement you felt made you bounce again, making your sweet little sundress flutter around your thighs.

Curtis’s eyes watched the hem of your dress hungrily, seemingly distracted by the movement until he shook himself and remembered what he was doing. Raising his beer, Curtis let the crowd cheer for a moment while you waited with anticipation. From your spot on the floor, Curtis looked even bigger and more intimidating, which made something low in your belly quiver with excitement, heat gathering between your thighs as your thoughts skated away.

A growled question from your trucker’s friend brought you back to the moment.

“Ya ready, bambi?” 

Your hands were laying lightly on your thighs, your knees spread on the floor. You were more than ready, and at Curtis’s question, you tossed your head back and pushed your tits out, giving him a challenging smirk as you purred, “Gimme what ya got, big man.”

A half feral grin spread across Curtis’s face, and then he was tipping his bottle toward you, cold beer splashing over your face mere seconds after you shut your eyes. The pungent liquid rolled down your cheeks and slid down your neck, soaking the front of your white dress. 

You could feel the fabric clinging to your skin, the white cotton no doubt becoming see-through as it was soaked in beer. Your nipples puckered and hardened against the flimsy material, putting on a show for Curtis and the crowd of men around you.

The bar owner emptied the bottle over your face and the front of your body, the beer getting in your mouth and nose, rivulets streaming down over your tits and between your spread thighs. It dripped to the floor beneath you, creating a small puddle on the sticky wooden boards. 

All around you, men cheered loudly and lewdly, urging Curtis to degrade you as the filthy slut you were. You grinned at the attention, loving every second of it and knowing that the men were only allowed to witness what Curtis was doing because Ari allowed it. Because Ari had given you to his friend for his birthday, and this was what Curtis had decided to do with you.

When the beer stopped flowing, you fluttered your eyes open, blinking the alcohol from your vision as you stared up into Curtis’s darkened blue eyes. You knew you must look a mess. You’d worn makeup that wouldn’t hold up to such an onslaught, and you had no doubt that your black mascara was streaming down your cheeks and adding to the wreckage of your face. But the way Curtis looked at you made you think he liked it—a lot.

“Edgar, gimme another beer!” Curtis called, keeping his gaze locked on you, his blue eyes dipping down to take in the sight of your beer-stained dress. 

The slip of fabric was sticking to your skin and it had become see-through where it had gotten wet. But it wasn’t drenched yet, and you could tell from the glint in Curtis’s eye that he wouldn’t stop until it bared you entirely. Excitement fizzed through you, and you bounced your hips while you waited impatiently for Curtis’s command to be met.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw one of the bartenders open a new bottle of beer and pass it into Curtis’s big, waiting hand. Neither you nor the bar owner took your eyes off each other, and it made the moment all the more intense. For all that you had an audience to your degradation, in that moment, you were there for Curtis, and only Curtis. You were his, if only temporarily, and he seemed to relish that knowledge just as much as you did.

“Ya thirsty, bambi?” he asked, some of the drunken slurring leeching out of his tone as he grinned lecherously down at you. His gaze broke away from you and he looked around at the men gathered close but not touching you, his eyes sparkling with depravity when he met yours again. “Ya want some more?’

Your heart was racing with excitement, the awareness of having so many men watching you thrumming deliciously beneath your skin; you couldn’t help the way your hips bounced with eagerness as you nodded quickly. “Yes, please,” you said sweetly, biting your lip to stop from grinning too wide up at your trucker’s friend.

Curtis’s eyes darkened with sinful intent and you felt yourself growing wet. But the dampness between your thighs had nothing to do with the beer Curtis had poured on you, and everything to do with the fact that you were so turned on by the way he was treating you. And all the while, you could feel your trucker’s eyes on you, a reminder that you were Ari’s and he’d given you to Curtis as a gift. 

“Stick your tongue out,” Curtis rumbled, a thread of steel in his voice that made you shiver. In that moment, he reminded you of the grumbling man you’d met when Ari first introduced you to his friends, and you realized you’d missed that side of him. “Show all my friends what a good little slut you are.”

If you could’ve followed the order and smiled at the same time, you would’ve. Instead, you had to settle for submitting to Curtis’s command, sticking your tongue out as far as possible and tipping your head back, letting him see down your throat.

It was an invitation for him to give you more, to give you all he had, and the entire bar knew it. The men surrounding you roared their approval while Curtis offered you a pleased little smirk. It was the nicest he’d ever looked and it nearly made you smile, but you held your position.

“That’s it, open wide, slut,” Curtis encouraged in a low, roughened voice, depraved delight sparking in his blue gaze as he degraded you on the floor of his bar.

The look in his eye and the tenor of his tone made you quiver. Your pussy throbbed more insistently with need the longer you stayed on your knees and submitted to the degradation the bar owner offered. But you channeled that desire into opening your mouth wider, sticking your tongue out a little bit further, catching the approving smirk that flickered at the corners of Curtis’s mouth.

The bar owner nodded at you, took a sip of his new beer, and then, with no other preamble, he tipped the brown bottle over your face, showering you in the bitter liquid. 

With your lips open and tongue out, plenty of the beer splashed into your mouth and you swallowed it down as best you could. Despite your best efforts, you choked and gagged a little, tears slipping from your eyes to join the rest of the mess on your face as you endured Curtis’s treatment.

The men in the crowd jeered as you struggled beneath the degrading pour of Curtis’s beer, but he shifted his hand, the cold liquid moving to pour down the front of your body. The stream seemed endless and you could feel the beer soaking into your dress until the entire front of the garment was drenched.

By the time the bottle was empty, you felt half drowned, gulping down air as the beer you’d swallowed sloshed around in your belly. Your head was a little dizzy, and you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or the lack of air, but you swayed a little on your knees, glancing down to find that the entire front of your dress was see-through, your tits and puckered nipples on full display for everyone to see.

At the sight of yourself, your pussy throbbed, your inner walls clenching pathetically around nothing as desire blazed through your body. When you looked up at Curtis, you were certain he could see your arousal in every line of your expression, and he smirked, the expression sharp on his handsome face.

“Y’know, bambi, your dress is a little dirty,” Curtis rumbled, as if he hadn’t been the one to sully it in the first place. But you didn’t care about that, you only cared about the anticipation building in your body. You knew Curtis was leading somewhere and you couldn’t wait for him to get there. “I can’t let you walk around my bar like that, dripping beer everywhere.” 

It escaped no one that Curtis’s dive bar was plenty dirty already and a few drops of beer wouldn’t make it much worse, but a cheer rose from the crowd as they caught on to the fact that Curtis was planning something. You bounced slightly on your knees, pouting up at the bar owner and trying to look abashed, biting your lip against a grin. 

“What’re you gonna do about it, big man?” you asked sweetly. 

Curtis gave you a half-feral grin, the expression more snarl than anything else, and it was your only warning. 

Faster than you would’ve thought possible for the big, drunk man, Curtis stooped down and slipped his hands into the neck of your dress, his rough fingers grazing your soft flesh. You let out a quiet little moan that you were certain only Curtis could hear, making him pause for a brief second, his eyes fluttering closed. But then his hands were moving again, yanking on your dress.

In a split second, Curtis ripped your dress right down the center. You gasped loudly as your tits were bared to the crowd of men in the bar, the sound loud in the moment of stunned silence. Your breasts bounced free of their confines, your nipples hardening and revealing to the whole room how much you were enjoying Curtis’s rough treatment.

The cheer that broke out at your nakedness was so loud, it made your ears ring. It also drowned out the sound of rending fabric as Curtis tore the shredded garment from your body, flinging it into the crowd. His eyes were heavy as they trailed down your body, your skin prickling everywhere he looked—your nipples tightening into desperate peaks and your pussy weeping from where it was nestled between your parted thighs.

Curtis’s eyes flared at the sight of the tattoo just above your slit, a reminder of who you belonged to. But you hoped it also reminded Curtis of the first night you’d met him—the night Ari had given you to both Curtis and Lloyd to use how they wanted. Your pussy dripped at the memory, and it seemed Curtis was just as affected, the big man pausing for a moment before he shook himself. 

“That’s better,” Curtis muttered, his gaze lingering on your weeping pussy like he wanted to bury his bearded face against your soft cunt. Instead, he dragged his eyes back up your body, the blue of his irises darkened to the color of the midnight sky as he murmured for your ears only, “Look so fucking pretty, bambi.”

You smiled and ducked your head at the compliment, which meant more to you than the obscene catcalls and lewd cries from the crowd around you. It was a reminder of the friendship that you and Curtis shared. You may have met because he was one of your trucker’s oldest friends, but you hoped Curtis knew you thought of him as your friend too.

“Thank you,” you whispered, looking up at the bar owner from under your lashes. “Are you enjoying your birthday?”

Something resembling a grin curved the edges of Curtis’s mouth, the expression nearly hidden in his beard. His eyes slid away and looked up, and you knew without having to check that he was looking at Ari again. Before you could discern what the glance meant, though, Curtis was chucking you under the chin and saying, “I am, thanks to you, bambi.” 

Your heart gave a happy little flutter, but before you could respond, Curtis was standing up and waving his arms to get the crowd to quiet down. “What d’ya think fellas, is Ari’s little cock slut dirty enough yet?” 

The beer that had already been poured on you was starting to dry into a sticky, tacky layer on your skin, but your pussy dripped at the thought of Curtis wanting to make you even filthier. And it seemed his friends liked the idea as well, because they cheered so loud, it felt like the floor was shaking beneath your knees. 

Edgar the bartender already had a beer open and waiting for Curtis when the big man turned to grab one. That time, the bar owner didn’t even need to command you to open your mouth and stick out your tongue—you did that all on your own. Curtis’s smirk was pleased and his blue eyes glimmered with fondness as he tipped the beer over your face, pouring the liquid down your throat and over your body to the cheers of all his friends.

For the better part of the next hour, Curtis took his time defiling you while you sat, naked and on your knees, in the center of his bar, enduring it willingly as the free use toy he’d been given for his birthday. A good amount of the alcohol that didn’t run down over your tits and splash over your pussy went down your throat, and it wasn’t long before your head began to swim. 

Still, your body felt heavy with desire, your nipples tight and desperate to be played with, your cunt pulsing and aching to be filled. It was only because Curtis seemed to be having so much fun, his friends urging him on to make you dirtier and filthier, that you didn’t break down and beg him to fuck you. 

But you couldn’t help the way your body was responding, your mouth falling slack at the teasing slide of liquid over your puckered nipples. If you arched your body just right, and spread your thighs wide enough, you could feel the trickle of beer over you clit, and it made a low moan slip from your mouth as your eyes fluttered closed in pleasure.

Curtis’s dark chuckle from above was your only warning. At that moment, he shoved the neck of his beer bottle into your mouth, pushing your lips wide and making you gag as your eyes flew open in surprise. 

“That needy little mouth is begging to be fucked, bambi,” the bar owner growled, quickly unzipping his fly and wedging the bottom of the beer between the zipper’s teeth so he could hold your head in both hands and fuck you with the glass bottle. “Take it, cock slut, fucking take it,” he grunted obscenely. 

All you could do was choke and struggle, the remainder of the beer sloshing down your throat and joining the rest in your belly. Your fingers fisted in the denim jeans encasing Curtis’s thick thighs, but you didn’t push him away. It felt good to finally have one of your holes used, even if you were being fucked by Curtis’s beer bottle instead of his cock like you’d wanted. 

Your jaw hurt by the time he pulled away, your lips swollen from being wrapped around the wide glass. Your body swayed unsteadily on your knees, arousal dripping down between your thighs and joining the mess of beer on the floor. The cheers of the crowd had faded into a constant rumble, and you smile dazedly when they urged Curtis on. 

Suddenly, a big bear paw of a hand was wrapping around your upper arm and you were being hauled to your feet. Blood rushed to your legs, your head swimming and lolling to the side as you tried to find your footing. But standing seemed impossible—and unimportant as arousal burned through you, making you whimper and whine desperately. You hoped someone would fuck you soon.

Curtis chuckled at your pathetic noises, the husky sound sending shivers down your spine as his lips grazed your ear. “You’re not too drunk to fuck, are ya, bambi?” he asked in a low, growly voice as he pressed his hips against you, his hard bulge digging into your belly. 

When you’d first walked into Everett’s Roadhouse that night and saw the state of the bar owner, you’d thought there was no way he’d be able to fuck you with how drunk he was. But the hour spent pouring so many bottles of beer over your body instead of drinking them had sobered Curtis up enough to get hard. He was stiff and twitching and pressing into you through his jeans and you wanted him to bury his cock in you.

Your dazed smile widened into a giddy grin and you tipped your head back, blinking your eyes a few times to get your vision to focus enough to see Curtis’s face. “It’s your birfday, big man,” you said, your voice more slurring than sultry, a hiccup interrupting you and making you pause. “I’m use to yours.” Your expression scrunched into a confused pout, knowing your words weren’t right, and tried again. “I’m yours to fuck.”

Curtis was laughing as he hauled you over to one of the pool tables off to the side of the bar, and tossed you down on the green felt. You lay limply on your back, staring up at your trucker’s tall friend while he glared at the guys who’d been playing a game on the table. Their grumbling quickly cut off and Curtis returned his attention to you. 

The crowd shifted to gather around the pool table while Curtis pulled out his cock, which was just as massive as the rest of him. The thick length lay against your mound, the girth covering much of the tattoo there, the tip nearly reaching your belly button. Your inner walls clenched in anticipation of taking Curtis inside you—you couldn’t wait.

“Gimme, gimme,” you mumbled, spreading your thighs wide and pushing your pussy up against the stiff, velvet-wrapped steel of Curtis’s cock. It twitched against your mound, precum dripping onto your belly and joining the mess on your skin. 

Curtis chuckled at your antics, rumbling, “Alright, bambi.” The bar owner grabbed your thighs, pushing you wide as he pulled his hips back, lining up the tip of his big cock with your entrance. Without any warning or preparation, Curtis barreled into your cunt, burying his big cock to the hilt with one thrust. 

Instantly, stinging pain and scorching pleasure cut white-hot through the core of you, overwhelming your mind and leaving your body to react however it wanted. Your head was thrown back, and your lips parted to let out a piercing scream that shattered through the noise of the dive bar.

“Fuck yeah, bambi, scream for me,” Curtis groaned, his big hands kneading your thighs, fingers digging into your plush softness hard enough to hurt. He pulled your body into his, managing to grind his cock even deeper into your pussy, wrenching another, surprised shriek from your lips.

You felt like you were being split in half, pain and pleasure ricocheting through your body fast enough to make you dizzy, your drunken mind unable to tell the difference between the two. All you knew was that it was so much, so overwhelming, and your hands reached out above your head, searching for something to cling to as your mind splintered and your body trembled from the sensation of being split open on Curtis’s cock.

Two warm hands wrapped firmly around your wrists, pinning them to the rough felt of the pool table, leaving you powerless to Curtis’s massive cock. He was rocking his hips in tiny little thrusts, the tip of his length battering against your cervix and wringing helpless little whimpers from your lips as your hazy eyes searched above you for the man pinning you down—somehow knowing before your gaze collided with the familiar blue of your trucker’s eyes that it was Ari.

His face was hovering above you, upside down as he leaned over the table to catch your gaze. The edges of Ari’s features were blurred, but you would’ve recognized your trucker even if you were blackout drunk—even if you were so intoxicated you were more unconscious than not. 

Ari’s face was like a star, familiar and steady, and you smiled happily up at him, your heart warming when you noticed the pride in his gaze. 

“You’re doing well, baby,” Ari rumbled, his features sharp and his expression hard. But deep in the blue depths of his eyes, you could see the affection you knew he felt for you. “You’re being such a good fuck toy for daddy’s friend on his birthday.”

You giggled, squirming happily on the pool table, your face upturned to your trucker, your attention completely diverted from Curtis and his cock, even as he still fucked you. You were having fun with the bar owner, but nothing and no one would ever be able to come between you and Ari. You were his, always, and he knew it.

Ari leaned down, and you thought for a moment he was going to kiss you, but you should’ve known better. Ari’s teeth nipped the soft lobe of your ear, making you moan, before he spoke words meant only for you.

“When Curtis is done, I’m gonna fuck your filthy little cunt, kiddo, so don’t pass out,” he rumbled, the twisted promise making your cunt clench around his friend’s cock. “Or do, it doesn’t matter to me.” Ari sank his teeth into the bone at the corner of your jaw, biting you hard enough to make you cry out. “I’m gonna use your holes whether you’re awake or not.”

A helpless moan slipped from your lips, your legs spreading wider instinctively at the thought of your trucker using your cunt to get off while you lay unconscious in his bed. You smiled adoringly up at Ari, blinking your eyes slowly. It took you a moment before your swimming vision could focus on Ari’s face, and when he saw he had your attention, he jerked his chin sharply at his friend, commanding you wordlessly to look back at Curtis.

You did, following your trucker’s order immediately, finding the massive bar owner watching you and Ari with a look on his face you couldn’t quite identify. The only way you could describe it was…openly gluttonous. Curtis looked like he wasn’t merely jealous of what you and Ari had, he looked like he would’ve stolen you away from his friend if there was any chance in the universe you’d look at him the same way.

But there wasn’t, and Curtis’s expression shifted as he resigned himself for having the piece of you that Ari had given him for his birthday. It would have to be enough, because even though his cock was inside you, you were still Ari’s and Ari’s alone. 

Curtis grabbed a beer off the edge of the pool table and chugged half of it. As he set it back down, he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and leaned over you, his big hands grabbing your thighs again, his fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. 

The pain only made your arousal flare hotter and you smiled up at your trucker’s friend, murmuring, “Happy birthday, big man.”

“Thank you, bambi,” he muttered, low enough that you knew it was just for you. Then a smirk spread across Curtis’s face, his eyes lighting with filthy desire. “Now, scream if my dick’s too big for your tight little cunt, ya filthy slut.”

With that, Curtis pulled out until only the tip of his cock remained in your grasping channel, then he slammed inside you. Even with your body having adjusted to the sheer size of him, his hard, brutal thrust pulled a scream from your throat, your back arching up off the table and your wrists pulling against Ari’s hold. 

Curtis laughed loudly as the crowd cheered, the big bar owner setting a ferocious pace as he fucked you hard enough that you knew you were going to be sore for days. But you loved it. You loved the pain and the pleasure and the roaring of the crowd as Curtis fucked you in front of all his friends. 

You loved the way Ari’s hands held your arms pinned above your head, how it bared your tits to Curtis, who bent over your body to finally suck on your aching nipples. You loved the way Curtis’s beard rasped against your skin, making you shiver as your pussy clenched hard around his thick cock.

Your mind floated deliriously through the waves of pleasure and pain crashing over your body. You felt drunk on cock and alcohol, not knowing how much time passed as Curtis fucked you, but it seemed to go on forever. Your body was wound so tight for so long, you reached a point where you didn’t know if you were even going to come, or if you were simply going to hover on the edge for the rest of eternity.

“Look at me, bambi,” Curtis growled, dragging your attention back to his handsome face. 

It was only then that you realized you’d been staring up unseeingly at the ceiling of the bar, the golden and neon lights swimming through your vision as you lay limply beneath your trucker’s friend. 

Curtis’s blue eyes were dark and his mouth was twisted into a desirous snarl, his beard making him look like a feral beast as he pounded into you. 

“You’re gonna come on my cock, d’you hear me?” 

Words escaped you, your tongue simply lolling out over your bottom lip when you opened your mouth to respond. All you could manage was a frantic whine as you bobbed your head in a nod. 

“Good slut,” Curtis grunted, one of his hands falling to your lower belly, his thumb finding your clit between your slippery folds. “Come on my cock, bambi, c’mon, come on my big dick like a good little cock slut.” The rough pad of his thumb rubbed your slick, puffy clit unrelentingly, and suddenly, you were tipping over the edge.

Your mouth fell open wider and your spine arched up off the pool table as you screamed, your release crashing over you, wave after wave of pleasure hurtling you closer and closer to a darkness that wanted to claim you. But you clung to consciousness, your scream turning into a high, keening whine that could’ve been a sign of pain or pleasure. 

Your release seemed to spur on Curtis and he rutted into you, fucking your clenching pussy as he watched pleasure contort your face and body. Then, with a final grunt, Curtis pulled himself free from your body. He jerked his cock in a big fist until he spilled all over your belly, making sure none of his come fell anywhere near your pussy or the tattoo there.

Curtis’s chest heaved, his eyes distant and dazed with pleasure as he wrung every last drop of come from his cock, and you watched him with the satisfied smile of a job well done. 

When the last rope of his come had splattered, warm and sticky, against your belly, Curtis finally sucked in a deep breath and grabbed the beer handed to him from the crowd. He took a deep swig while he tucked his cock away with the other hand. 

“Thanks, Levinson,” Curtis rasped, tipping his bottle to your trucker, who just nodded. Ari’s hands were idly massaging your wrists and you melted onto the rough felt of the pool table, knowing your trucker would take care of you. Curtis turned his blue eyes on you, and he tipped his bottle to you as well. “Always a pleasure, bambi,” he said, a genuine look of appreciation on his face. 

You were about to respond, but then Curtis turned his beer over and he used the alcohol to wash his come from your skin. You squealed loudly when the cold liquid rushed over your heated skin, instinctively bringing up your legs to curl into yourself, making the crowd laugh and jeer. 

When the beer was empty and his spend was cleaned from your skin, Curtis stumbled away into the crowd, the big man being swallowed up by the well-wishers and revelers congratulating him on fucking you good. Since you knew Curtis was done with you, you looked up at Ari, twisting your hands to wrap your fingers around his arms.

“Can we go now, daddy?” you asked softly.

Ari nodded and gathered you up from the pool table, setting you down on the edge while he pulled off the flannel shirt he’d worn over a white t-shirt. He tugged it over your head and helped you get your trembling arms in the sleeves, then ducked down to brush a kiss to your lips. The events of the night were catching up to you, and you were drunk and exhausted, but you sighed into your trucker’s mouth.

“You did good tonight, baby,” Ari murmured against your lips, and your heart felt like it was suffused in the warmest sunlight. Ari’s praise made you feel lighter than air, even as he pulled away.

You smiled up at your trucker as he straightened, staring at Ari like he was your whole world, which he was. His eyes were the softest you’d ever seen them as he stared right back at you, the tiniest smile curling the corners of his mouth. 

Just then, Lloyd materialized out of the crowd and Ari finally looked away from you to exchange a loaded glance with his other oldest friend. Lloyd seemed to be much more sober than Curtis, and he helped your trucker lead you to the bathroom, where Ari cleaned you up a little and let you relieve yourself after all that you’d had to drink that night. 

Then, Lloyd cleared a path through the drunken crowd while you and Ari followed. Between the two men, no one dared to try to touch you, and you sank into Ari’s side, feeling safe with your trucker as you looped your arms loosely around his waist. He smelled familiar and wonderful and you didn’t even try to hold yourself back from burying your face in his chest even as you kept on walking.

Lloyd pushed open the door of Everett’s Roadhouse and you sighed happily when the cool night air brushed against your heated, still slightly sticky cheeks. Gravel crunched beneath the soles of your sandals, and you blinked your eyes in the darkness until they focused enough to see Ari’s big, black truck looming in packed parking lot surrounded by other long-haul rigs.

“Drysdale’s gonna have a lot of business tonight after that show your girl put on,” Lloyd commented, casting his gaze across the expanse between Everett’s Roadhouse and Diesel Dolls, the strip club on the other side of the parking lot. Lloyd snorted and adjusted the front of his pants, and it was only then that you noticed the sizable bulge there. “Including me,” he muttered.

Your hazy thoughts strayed to the strip club, and you couldn’t help but imagine Lloyd getting a lap dance from a beautiful stripper. The tattoo artist sitting back on a plush couch while a gorgeous woman gyrated on his lap, his fingers twitching to grab her and touch her and defile her the way you knew Lloyd liked.

You didn’t even think to picture yourself as the stripper. Instead, in this little fantasy, you were sitting on Ari’s lap, your trucker’s cock buried in your cunt. Maybe he’d even let you get your own lap dance from Lloyd’s stripper, your body pressed between Ari’s and the other woman…

Your body lurched forward and if it wasn’t for Ari’s firm grip on your waist, you would’ve gone sprawling across the parking lot. For the rest of the walk to Ari’s rig, you tried to focus on putting one foot in front of the other and not let your mind wander so you wouldn’t end up feeling more sore than you already were. 

When the three of you came to a stop beside the driver’s side door of Ari’s truck, Lloyd let his eyes slide to you before moving quickly to your trucker. 

“I hope you had a similar gift in mind for my birthday, Levinson,” Lloyd said with his usual oily charm, his mouth curling into a smirk beneath his well-groomed mustache. 

“We’ll see,” Ari rumbled, but his tone was good-natured. You couldn’t help the way your body clenched at the salacious, and somewhat victorious smile Lloyd shot your way.

But the events of the night were weighing heavily on your shoulders, exhaustion creeping into your bones, and you didn’t have the brainpower to wonder what Lloyd might do with you if you were gifted to him on his birthday. Even if you knew you’d have just as much fun with Ari’s other friend as you’d had with Curtis.

“Daddy,” you whined softly, burying your face against Ari’s beefy chest. His hand squeezed your hip possessively and he said his goodbyes to Lloyd, then helped you into the truck, making sure he was the only one who could see the way your pussy flashed as you climbed into the cab.

Ari followed you up and locked the door behind him while you crawled into the cot in the back, laying down on top of his soft blankets despite the sticky residue still clinging to most of your body. Ari pulled off his t-shirt and kicked off his pants, then joined you in the narrow bed. 

Your body melted at the familiar comfort of his weight behind you, and you began to relax as sleep tugged at the edges of your awareness. But when Ari’s cock pressed hot and hard against your bare ass, you remembered his promise from inside the bar, how he said he was going to fuck you whether you were awake or not. You moaned softly while he bunched up the flannel shirt you still wore around your waist. 

Your face was already pressing into the soft pillow on Ari’s bed, your eyes closed, but you arched your back and pushed your ass against Ari’s hard length, inviting him to slide inside your slick cunt. You were sore from Curtis’s fucking, but wet again for your trucker. You were always wet for him, your body craving the feeling of his cock filling you up in the perfect way that only he could. 

“Ya gonna stay awake for me while I use your messy cunt, cock whore?” Ari rumbled into the back of your neck. The flat of his tongue swiped up the column of your throat, wringing a soft whine from you as he licked the beer from your skin. It felt so good, sending shivers down your spine and raising goosebumps all over your body. “Or did my friend wear you out?”

All you could manage was an unintelligible mumble, the sound muffled by the pillow crushed beneath your face, as sleep pushed more insistently into the border of your wakefulness. Ari’s deep chuckle rumbled against your spine, making you even wetter for your filthy, perfect trucker.

“Go to sleep, kiddo,” Ari murmured in your ear, his hand sliding over your hip to press against your lower belly, his fingertips grazing the tattoo that was branded into the skin of your mound, just above your pussy. His touch moved your body slightly, arching you enough for the head of his cock to find the slit of your cunt. “Let daddy use your tight little hole while you get some rest.” 

Ari slid inside your pussy slowly, pressing the air from your lungs as he took his time impaling you on his cock. Your aching inner walls clenched around him desperately, pain and pleasure flaring to life and zinging through your exhausted limbs. A rough, greedy grunt rumbled in Ari’s chest, the sound softening into a warm, satisfied groan once he was fully seated inside you.

It hurt a little to be stretched out around Ari’s cock so soon after taking Curtis’s pounding, but when your trucker wrapped his arms around you, holding you cocooned in the cage of his broad chest while he rocked his hips almost gently against your ass, you felt yourself melting into him. Ari’s lips and tongue worked against your neck, licking sticky beer from your skin, his beard deliciously familiar while he set an almost soothing pace as he fucked you.

Despite the soreness between your thighs, and the tiny zings of pleasure thrumming through your body from Ari’s cock rocking into you, your exhaustion was too great and it wasn’t long before you were slipping into the warm comfort of sleep. That night in Ari’s truck, you fell asleep with a blissed out, cock drunk smile on your face, happy as could be to be in your trucker’s arms.

You may have spent much of the night as a gift for the bar owner your trucker called a friend, and you were glad you could be part of making Curtis’s birthday special, but you would always belong to Ari. And you would always end your nights in his arms, because that was where you wanted to be and where you belonged—with your trucker, Ari Levinson.

In fact, after the evening you’d spent with Curtis and Ari’s other oldest friend, Lloyd Hansen—when your trucker had given them permission to use you however they wanted in exchange for some favors—you were excited to be Curtis’s birthday gift. You’d liked the big, grumbling bar owner, and you wanted to make his birthday special. 

As part of his gift, Ari had let Curtis pick out what you’d wear. So you strolled into Everett’s Roadhouse on the night of Curtis’s birthday wearing the sweetest little sundress you owned—and nothing else besides the shoes on your feet. 

The dress was a bright white cotton with little flowers dotted all over it, and short enough to swirl around your upper thighs. The sweet little garment was at odds with your surroundings in the dive bar, which were grimy and dirty, lit by dim lightbulbs and flickering neon beer signs. It made you stand out immediately.

As soon as you entered the bar, every man in the establishment turned to look at you, their gazes ranging from drunken interest to greedy hunger. Even with Ari at your side, his posessive hand on your lower back, they couldn’t seem to drag their covetous eyes away from you, like you were an oasis in the desert.  

It took you a moment to understand the attention, but when you did, a delicious tremor of excitement raced down your spine—you were the only woman in the whole building. The bar was closed for Curtis’s private party, and the only people in attendance were his friends, who were all rough-looking men that you presumed were mostly truckers or old friends like Ari. 

You wondered, not for the first time since Ari had told you his plans for his friend’s birthday, what exactly Curtis would do with you. You knew Ari’s rules would save you from anything too unpleasant, but there was so much they didn’t cover. The possibilities of how Curtis might use you made your pussy tingle with anticipation.

Ari’s hand was firm on your lower back as he guided you further into the bar, your wedge sandals sticking slightly to the filthy wooden floors of the roadhouse. The gazes of all the men you walked past slid over your bare skin like oil, the sensation settling heavily between your thighs, where a sensual warmth bloomed. 

That warmth only grew the closer you got to Curtis, who stood half a head taller than any man in the bar. The imposing bear of a man was leaning against the bartop, talking with someone about something, his broad shoulders and thick biceps stretching the limits of his black t-shirt. Curtis’s blue eyes were bright in the dingy lights of the bar, contrasting against his pale skin, dark beard and shorn hair. 

When you finally arrived at the circle of men gathered around Curtis, Ari gave you a shove through the crowd and you stumbled toward the bar owner. It was only when Curtis fumbled to catch you in his arms—the stench of beer thick on his breath—that you realized he was already so drunk, he could barely stand, and that was why he’d been leaning against the bar. 

“Hey there, bambi,” he slurred, his arms loosely circling your waist. His hands slid down to grope your ass, but Curtis must’ve forgotten he was still holding a beer, because you felt it tip. A second later, cold liquid spilled over the plush curves of your ass.

Instinctively, you squealed his name, “Curtis!” The cold beer was running down the valley between your cheeks, making you squirm in his arms. You tried to get away from the spilling liquid, but you ended up pressing closer to Curtis’s massive, burly chest, practically climbing the tall man with your fingers fisting in his t-shirt and your body plastering to his.

Thankfully, Curtis didn’t mind in the least. He managed to right his beer and chuckled, looking down at you fondly, his mouth curled in a devastating smirk even as his eyes were hazy with drink. The alcohol seemed to have softened Curtis’s rough edges, and he appeared almost warm—nothing like the grumbling man you’d met previously.

“Damn, bambi, ya just got here,” he said, loud enough for the men closest to him to hear. “And yer already trying to jump on my dick like some kind of slut, huh?” He chuckled darkly and his friends joined in, making heat creep up your neck and fill your cheeks. 

But you didn’t deny it.

Instead, you recovered yourself quickly, forgetting the beer still plastering your dress to your ass and pressed closer to Curtis. Wrapping your arms around his neck and pushing your tits against his broad chest, you enjoyed the way his eyes dipped lazily down to your low-cut neckline. 

“I’m yours for the night, big man,” you purred, your body warming and responding to being pressed so tight against Curtis’s muscled chest. It wasn’t difficult to let a seductive smile curl your lips. “You can do anything you want with me.” 

A grin spread slowly across Curtis’s face, the expression lecherous on his handsome features as he leered down at you. 

Before he responded, though, his gaze shifted over your shoulder, and he gave a quick nod. You knew without looking the gesture was meant for Ari—an acknowledgement that Curtis remembered your trucker’s rules and understood he couldn’t do anything. But close enough. 

Curtis’s free hand groped your ass hard as he turned to the crowd, taking a swig of his beer before calling out to his friends.

“Didja hear that fellas?” he crowed, his excited energy riling up the throng of men, all of whom seemed to be as drunk or drunker than Curtis. “Ari’s little cock slut said I get to do anything I want with her tonight!” 

A cheer rose up from the crowd, men all around you raising their glasses in the air while they yelled so loud it felt like a physical cloud of excitement. The energy was infectious, an eager grin curving your lips as you looked around at all the truckers and degenerates who were celebrating your objectification as a free use fuck toy.

Out of curiosity, you turned to look for Ari among them. You found your trucker standing still and quiet, watching you, a glass of amber liquid in one hand. His arms were crossed over his broad chest and he wore a devious little smirk on his face that had your body warming with arousal. Even though he wasn’t joining in on the deafening cheer, you knew he was just as excited by the prospect of seeing you used by Curtis as everyone else.

Before Ari could direct you to look back at Curtis, the big man you were plastered against got your attention with his next words, shouted to the crowd.

Curtis had waited until the cheering died down a little to ask, “So what should I do with her first?”  

Obscene suggestions were hurled at you and Curtis, men’s voices blending into a cacophony of depravity. The things the crowd wanted Curtis to do to you ranged so wildly from nearly tame to absolutely vile that it made your head spin. Ari’s rules would prevent the worst of the suggestions, but not everything that Curtis’s friends were calling out, and you wondered with a twisted shiver of excitement what your trucker’s friend would pick to do to you.

“POUR YOUR BEER ON HER!”

Curtis’s whole body turned to the voice that had called out that last suggestion, dragging you along with him since your arms were still looped around his neck, his hand still holding your ass. Curtis pointed at his friend with his beer, some of it sloshing onto the floor with the fervor of the gesture.

“Now that’s an idea,” he shouted to the man in the crowd you couldn’t see. Curtis tipped his beer in his friend’s direction then took a swig. He looked down at where you were still pressed against his chest, your body hanging from where your arms were holding onto him. “Get on your knees, bambi.” His voice was rolling thunder, so deep and dark, it sent tiny, pleasurable zaps of lightning through your nervous system. 

The speed with which you detached yourself from Curtis and dropped to your knees had the men all around you whistling in appreciation. You heard more than a few of them mutter things like, “What a good, well-trained slut,” and “Gotta get me a girl like that.”

You preened and beamed with pride at the praise, finding Ari in the crowd again and hoping your behavior reflected well on him. He’d been the one to train you to follow orders so well, after all.

Your trucker gave you a small nod of recognition that made happiness burst in your chest, and you turned back to Curtis with a happy bounce of your hips. You couldn’t help but notice the low groans that came as a result of the little movement and you smiled wider.

The wooden floor was sticky beneath your bare knees, but you paid it no mind. You suspected—and you’d turn out to be right—that you’d be dirtier and filthier than even the floor of Everett’s Roadhouse before the night was through. The excitement you felt made you bounce again, making your sweet little sundress flutter around your thighs.

Curtis’s eyes watched the hem of your dress hungrily, seemingly distracted by the movement until he shook himself and remembered what he was doing. Raising his beer, Curtis let the crowd cheer for a moment while you waited with anticipation. From your spot on the floor, Curtis looked even bigger and more intimidating, which made something low in your belly quiver with excitement, heat gathering between your thighs as your thoughts skated away.

A growled question from your trucker’s friend brought you back to the moment.

“Ya ready, bambi?” 

Your hands were laying lightly on your thighs, your knees spread on the floor. You were more than ready, and at Curtis’s question, you tossed your head back and pushed your tits out, giving him a challenging smirk as you purred, “Gimme what ya got, big man.”

A half feral grin spread across Curtis’s face, and then he was tipping his bottle toward you, cold beer splashing over your face mere seconds after you shut your eyes. The pungent liquid rolled down your cheeks and slid down your neck, soaking the front of your white dress. 

You could feel the fabric clinging to your skin, the white cotton no doubt becoming see-through as it was soaked in beer. Your nipples puckered and hardened against the flimsy material, putting on a show for Curtis and the crowd of men around you.

The bar owner emptied the bottle over your face and the front of your body, the beer getting in your mouth and nose, rivulets streaming down over your tits and between your spread thighs. It dripped to the floor beneath you, creating a small puddle on the sticky wooden boards. 

All around you, men cheered loudly and lewdly, urging Curtis to degrade you as the filthy slut you were. You grinned at the attention, loving every second of it and knowing that the men were only allowed to witness what Curtis was doing because Ari allowed it. Because Ari had given you to his friend for his birthday, and this was what Curtis had decided to do with you.

When the beer stopped flowing, you fluttered your eyes open, blinking the alcohol from your vision as you stared up into Curtis’s darkened blue eyes. You knew you must look a mess. You’d worn makeup that wouldn’t hold up to such an onslaught, and you had no doubt that your black mascara was streaming down your cheeks and adding to the wreckage of your face. But the way Curtis looked at you made you think he liked it—a lot.

“Edgar, gimme another beer!” Curtis called, keeping his gaze locked on you, his blue eyes dipping down to take in the sight of your beer-stained dress. 

The slip of fabric was sticking to your skin and it had become see-through where it had gotten wet. But it wasn’t drenched yet, and you could tell from the glint in Curtis’s eye that he wouldn’t stop until it bared you entirely. Excitement fizzed through you, and you bounced your hips while you waited impatiently for Curtis’s command to be met.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw one of the bartenders open a new bottle of beer and pass it into Curtis’s big, waiting hand. Neither you nor the bar owner took your eyes off each other, and it made the moment all the more intense. For all that you had an audience to your degradation, in that moment, you were there for Curtis, and only Curtis. You were his, if only temporarily, and he seemed to relish that knowledge just as much as you did.

“Ya thirsty, bambi?” he asked, some of the drunken slurring leeching out of his tone as he grinned lecherously down at you. His gaze broke away from you and he looked around at the men gathered close but not touching you, his eyes sparkling with depravity when he met yours again. “Ya want some more?’

Your heart was racing with excitement, the awareness of having so many men watching you thrumming deliciously beneath your skin; you couldn’t help the way your hips bounced with eagerness as you nodded quickly. “Yes, please,” you said sweetly, biting your lip to stop from grinning too wide up at your trucker’s friend.

Curtis’s eyes darkened with sinful intent and you felt yourself growing wet. But the dampness between your thighs had nothing to do with the beer Curtis had poured on you, and everything to do with the fact that you were so turned on by the way he was treating you. And all the while, you could feel your trucker’s eyes on you, a reminder that you were Ari’s and he’d given you to Curtis as a gift. 

“Stick your tongue out,” Curtis rumbled, a thread of steel in his voice that made you shiver. In that moment, he reminded you of the grumbling man you’d met when Ari first introduced you to his friends, and you realized you’d missed that side of him. “Show all my friends what a good little slut you are.”

If you could’ve followed the order and smiled at the same time, you would’ve. Instead, you had to settle for submitting to Curtis’s command, sticking your tongue out as far as possible and tipping your head back, letting him see down your throat.

It was an invitation for him to give you more, to give you all he had, and the entire bar knew it. The men surrounding you roared their approval while Curtis offered you a pleased little smirk. It was the nicest he’d ever looked and it nearly made you smile, but you held your position.

“That’s it, open wide, slut,” Curtis encouraged in a low, roughened voice, depraved delight sparking in his blue gaze as he degraded you on the floor of his bar.

The look in his eye and the tenor of his tone made you quiver. Your pussy throbbed more insistently with need the longer you stayed on your knees and submitted to the degradation the bar owner offered. But you channeled that desire into opening your mouth wider, sticking your tongue out a little bit further, catching the approving smirk that flickered at the corners of Curtis’s mouth.

The bar owner nodded at you, took a sip of his new beer, and then, with no other preamble, he tipped the brown bottle over your face, showering you in the bitter liquid. 

With your lips open and tongue out, plenty of the beer splashed into your mouth and you swallowed it down as best you could. Despite your best efforts, you choked and gagged a little, tears slipping from your eyes to join the rest of the mess on your face as you endured Curtis’s treatment.

The men in the crowd jeered as you struggled beneath the degrading pour of Curtis’s beer, but he shifted his hand, the cold liquid moving to pour down the front of your body. The stream seemed endless and you could feel the beer soaking into your dress until the entire front of the garment was drenched.

By the time the bottle was empty, you felt half drowned, gulping down air as the beer you’d swallowed sloshed around in your belly. Your head was a little dizzy, and you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or the lack of air, but you swayed a little on your knees, glancing down to find that the entire front of your dress was see-through, your tits and puckered nipples on full display for everyone to see.

At the sight of yourself, your pussy throbbed, your inner walls clenching pathetically around nothing as desire blazed through your body. When you looked up at Curtis, you were certain he could see your arousal in every line of your expression, and he smirked, the expression sharp on his handsome face.

“Y’know, bambi, your dress is a little dirty,” Curtis rumbled, as if he hadn’t been the one to sully it in the first place. But you didn’t care about that, you only cared about the anticipation building in your body. You knew Curtis was leading somewhere and you couldn’t wait for him to get there. “I can’t let you walk around my bar like that, dripping beer everywhere.” 

It escaped no one that Curtis’s dive bar was plenty dirty already and a few drops of beer wouldn’t make it much worse, but a cheer rose from the crowd as they caught on to the fact that Curtis was planning something. You bounced slightly on your knees, pouting up at the bar owner and trying to look abashed, biting your lip against a grin. 

“What’re you gonna do about it, big man?” you asked sweetly. 

Curtis gave you a half-feral grin, the expression more snarl than anything else, and it was your only warning. 

Faster than you would’ve thought possible for the big, drunk man, Curtis stooped down and slipped his hands into the neck of your dress, his rough fingers grazing your soft flesh. You let out a quiet little moan that you were certain only Curtis could hear, making him pause for a brief second, his eyes fluttering closed. But then his hands were moving again, yanking on your dress.

In a split second, Curtis ripped your dress right down the center. You gasped loudly as your tits were bared to the crowd of men in the bar, the sound loud in the moment of stunned silence. Your breasts bounced free of their confines, your nipples hardening and revealing to the whole room how much you were enjoying Curtis’s rough treatment.

The cheer that broke out at your nakedness was so loud, it made your ears ring. It also drowned out the sound of rending fabric as Curtis tore the shredded garment from your body, flinging it into the crowd. His eyes were heavy as they trailed down your body, your skin prickling everywhere he looked—your nipples tightening into desperate peaks and your pussy weeping from where it was nestled between your parted thighs.

Curtis’s eyes flared at the sight of the tattoo just above your slit, a reminder of who you belonged to. But you hoped it also reminded Curtis of the first night you’d met him—the night Ari had given you to both Curtis and Lloyd to use how they wanted. Your pussy dripped at the memory, and it seemed Curtis was just as affected, the big man pausing for a moment before he shook himself. 

“That’s better,” Curtis muttered, his gaze lingering on your weeping pussy like he wanted to bury his bearded face against your soft cunt. Instead, he dragged his eyes back up your body, the blue of his irises darkened to the color of the midnight sky as he murmured for your ears only, “Look so fucking pretty, bambi.”

You smiled and ducked your head at the compliment, which meant more to you than the obscene catcalls and lewd cries from the crowd around you. It was a reminder of the friendship that you and Curtis shared. You may have met because he was one of your trucker’s oldest friends, but you hoped Curtis knew you thought of him as your friend too.

“Thank you,” you whispered, looking up at the bar owner from under your lashes. “Are you enjoying your birthday?”

Something resembling a grin curved the edges of Curtis’s mouth, the expression nearly hidden in his beard. His eyes slid away and looked up, and you knew without having to check that he was looking at Ari again. Before you could discern what the glance meant, though, Curtis was chucking you under the chin and saying, “I am, thanks to you, bambi.” 

Your heart gave a happy little flutter, but before you could respond, Curtis was standing up and waving his arms to get the crowd to quiet down. “What d’ya think fellas, is Ari’s little cock slut dirty enough yet?” 

The beer that had already been poured on you was starting to dry into a sticky, tacky layer on your skin, but your pussy dripped at the thought of Curtis wanting to make you even filthier. And it seemed his friends liked the idea as well, because they cheered so loud, it felt like the floor was shaking beneath your knees. 

Edgar the bartender already had a beer open and waiting for Curtis when the big man turned to grab one. That time, the bar owner didn’t even need to command you to open your mouth and stick out your tongue—you did that all on your own. Curtis’s smirk was pleased and his blue eyes glimmered with fondness as he tipped the beer over your face, pouring the liquid down your throat and over your body to the cheers of all his friends.

For the better part of the next hour, Curtis took his time defiling you while you sat, naked and on your knees, in the center of his bar, enduring it willingly as the free use toy he’d been given for his birthday. A good amount of the alcohol that didn’t run down over your tits and splash over your pussy went down your throat, and it wasn’t long before your head began to swim. 

Still, your body felt heavy with desire, your nipples tight and desperate to be played with, your cunt pulsing and aching to be filled. It was only because Curtis seemed to be having so much fun, his friends urging him on to make you dirtier and filthier, that you didn’t break down and beg him to fuck you. 

But you couldn’t help the way your body was responding, your mouth falling slack at the teasing slide of liquid over your puckered nipples. If you arched your body just right, and spread your thighs wide enough, you could feel the trickle of beer over you clit, and it made a low moan slip from your mouth as your eyes fluttered closed in pleasure.

Curtis’s dark chuckle from above was your only warning. At that moment, he shoved the neck of his beer bottle into your mouth, pushing your lips wide and making you gag as your eyes flew open in surprise. 

“That needy little mouth is begging to be fucked, bambi,” the bar owner growled, quickly unzipping his fly and wedging the bottom of the beer between the zipper’s teeth so he could hold your head in both hands and fuck you with the glass bottle. “Take it, cock slut, fucking take it,” he grunted obscenely. 

All you could do was choke and struggle, the remainder of the beer sloshing down your throat and joining the rest in your belly. Your fingers fisted in the denim jeans encasing Curtis’s thick thighs, but you didn’t push him away. It felt good to finally have one of your holes used, even if you were being fucked by Curtis’s beer bottle instead of his cock like you’d wanted. 

Your jaw hurt by the time he pulled away, your lips swollen from being wrapped around the wide glass. Your body swayed unsteadily on your knees, arousal dripping down between your thighs and joining the mess of beer on the floor. The cheers of the crowd had faded into a constant rumble, and you smile dazedly when they urged Curtis on. 

Suddenly, a big bear paw of a hand was wrapping around your upper arm and you were being hauled to your feet. Blood rushed to your legs, your head swimming and lolling to the side as you tried to find your footing. But standing seemed impossible—and unimportant as arousal burned through you, making you whimper and whine desperately. You hoped someone would fuck you soon.

Curtis chuckled at your pathetic noises, the husky sound sending shivers down your spine as his lips grazed your ear. “You’re not too drunk to fuck, are ya, bambi?” he asked in a low, growly voice as he pressed his hips against you, his hard bulge digging into your belly. 

When you’d first walked into Everett’s Roadhouse that night and saw the state of the bar owner, you’d thought there was no way he’d be able to fuck you with how drunk he was. But the hour spent pouring so many bottles of beer over your body instead of drinking them had sobered Curtis up enough to get hard. He was stiff and twitching and pressing into you through his jeans and you wanted him to bury his cock in you.

Your dazed smile widened into a giddy grin and you tipped your head back, blinking your eyes a few times to get your vision to focus enough to see Curtis’s face. “It’s your birfday, big man,” you said, your voice more slurring than sultry, a hiccup interrupting you and making you pause. “I’m use to yours.” Your expression scrunched into a confused pout, knowing your words weren’t right, and tried again. “I’m yours to fuck.”

Curtis was laughing as he hauled you over to one of the pool tables off to the side of the bar, and tossed you down on the green felt. You lay limply on your back, staring up at your trucker’s tall friend while he glared at the guys who’d been playing a game on the table. Their grumbling quickly cut off and Curtis returned his attention to you. 

The crowd shifted to gather around the pool table while Curtis pulled out his cock, which was just as massive as the rest of him. The thick length lay against your mound, the girth covering much of the tattoo there, the tip nearly reaching your belly button. Your inner walls clenched in anticipation of taking Curtis inside you—you couldn’t wait.

“Gimme, gimme,” you mumbled, spreading your thighs wide and pushing your pussy up against the stiff, velvet-wrapped steel of Curtis’s cock. It twitched against your mound, precum dripping onto your belly and joining the mess on your skin. 

Curtis chuckled at your antics, rumbling, “Alright, bambi.” The bar owner grabbed your thighs, pushing you wide as he pulled his hips back, lining up the tip of his big cock with your entrance. Without any warning or preparation, Curtis barreled into your cunt, burying his big cock to the hilt with one thrust. 

Instantly, stinging pain and scorching pleasure cut white-hot through the core of you, overwhelming your mind and leaving your body to react however it wanted. Your head was thrown back, and your lips parted to let out a piercing scream that shattered through the noise of the dive bar.

“Fuck yeah, bambi, scream for me,” Curtis groaned, his big hands kneading your thighs, fingers digging into your plush softness hard enough to hurt. He pulled your body into his, managing to grind his cock even deeper into your pussy, wrenching another, surprised shriek from your lips.

You felt like you were being split in half, pain and pleasure ricocheting through your body fast enough to make you dizzy, your drunken mind unable to tell the difference between the two. All you knew was that it was so much, so overwhelming, and your hands reached out above your head, searching for something to cling to as your mind splintered and your body trembled from the sensation of being split open on Curtis’s cock.

Two warm hands wrapped firmly around your wrists, pinning them to the rough felt of the pool table, leaving you powerless to Curtis’s massive cock. He was rocking his hips in tiny little thrusts, the tip of his length battering against your cervix and wringing helpless little whimpers from your lips as your hazy eyes searched above you for the man pinning you down—somehow knowing before your gaze collided with the familiar blue of your trucker’s eyes that it was Ari.

His face was hovering above you, upside down as he leaned over the table to catch your gaze. The edges of Ari’s features were blurred, but you would’ve recognized your trucker even if you were blackout drunk—even if you were so intoxicated you were more unconscious than not. 

Ari’s face was like a star, familiar and steady, and you smiled happily up at him, your heart warming when you noticed the pride in his gaze. 

“You’re doing well, baby,” Ari rumbled, his features sharp and his expression hard. But deep in the blue depths of his eyes, you could see the affection you knew he felt for you. “You’re being such a good fuck toy for daddy’s friend on his birthday.”

You giggled, squirming happily on the pool table, your face upturned to your trucker, your attention completely diverted from Curtis and his cock, even as he still fucked you. You were having fun with the bar owner, but nothing and no one would ever be able to come between you and Ari. You were his, always, and he knew it.

Ari leaned down, and you thought for a moment he was going to kiss you, but you should’ve known better. Ari’s teeth nipped the soft lobe of your ear, making you moan, before he spoke words meant only for you.

“When Curtis is done, I’m gonna fuck your filthy little cunt, kiddo, so don’t pass out,” he rumbled, the twisted promise making your cunt clench around his friend’s cock. “Or do, it doesn’t matter to me.” Ari sank his teeth into the bone at the corner of your jaw, biting you hard enough to make you cry out. “I’m gonna use your holes whether you’re awake or not.”

A helpless moan slipped from your lips, your legs spreading wider instinctively at the thought of your trucker using your cunt to get off while you lay unconscious in his bed. You smiled adoringly up at Ari, blinking your eyes slowly. It took you a moment before your swimming vision could focus on Ari’s face, and when he saw he had your attention, he jerked his chin sharply at his friend, commanding you wordlessly to look back at Curtis.

You did, following your trucker’s order immediately, finding the massive bar owner watching you and Ari with a look on his face you couldn’t quite identify. The only way you could describe it was…openly gluttonous. Curtis looked like he wasn’t merely jealous of what you and Ari had, he looked like he would’ve stolen you away from his friend if there was any chance in the universe you’d look at him the same way.

But there wasn’t, and Curtis’s expression shifted as he resigned himself for having the piece of you that Ari had given him for his birthday. It would have to be enough, because even though his cock was inside you, you were still Ari’s and Ari’s alone. 

Curtis grabbed a beer off the edge of the pool table and chugged half of it. As he set it back down, he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and leaned over you, his big hands grabbing your thighs again, his fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. 

The pain only made your arousal flare hotter and you smiled up at your trucker’s friend, murmuring, “Happy birthday, big man.”

“Thank you, bambi,” he muttered, low enough that you knew it was just for you. Then a smirk spread across Curtis’s face, his eyes lighting with filthy desire. “Now, scream if my dick’s too big for your tight little cunt, ya filthy slut.”

With that, Curtis pulled out until only the tip of his cock remained in your grasping channel, then he slammed inside you. Even with your body having adjusted to the sheer size of him, his hard, brutal thrust pulled a scream from your throat, your back arching up off the table and your wrists pulling against Ari’s hold. 

Curtis laughed loudly as the crowd cheered, the big bar owner setting a ferocious pace as he fucked you hard enough that you knew you were going to be sore for days. But you loved it. You loved the pain and the pleasure and the roaring of the crowd as Curtis fucked you in front of all his friends. 

You loved the way Ari’s hands held your arms pinned above your head, how it bared your tits to Curtis, who bent over your body to finally suck on your aching nipples. You loved the way Curtis’s beard rasped against your skin, making you shiver as your pussy clenched hard around his thick cock.

Your mind floated deliriously through the waves of pleasure and pain crashing over your body. You felt drunk on cock and alcohol, not knowing how much time passed as Curtis fucked you, but it seemed to go on forever. Your body was wound so tight for so long, you reached a point where you didn’t know if you were even going to come, or if you were simply going to hover on the edge for the rest of eternity.

“Look at me, bambi,” Curtis growled, dragging your attention back to his handsome face. 

It was only then that you realized you’d been staring up unseeingly at the ceiling of the bar, the golden and neon lights swimming through your vision as you lay limply beneath your trucker’s friend. 

Curtis’s blue eyes were dark and his mouth was twisted into a desirous snarl, his beard making him look like a feral beast as he pounded into you. 

“You’re gonna come on my cock, d’you hear me?” 

Words escaped you, your tongue simply lolling out over your bottom lip when you opened your mouth to respond. All you could manage was a frantic whine as you bobbed your head in a nod. 

“Good slut,” Curtis grunted, one of his hands falling to your lower belly, his thumb finding your clit between your slippery folds. “Come on my cock, bambi, c’mon, come on my big dick like a good little cock slut.” The rough pad of his thumb rubbed your slick, puffy clit unrelentingly, and suddenly, you were tipping over the edge.

Your mouth fell open wider and your spine arched up off the pool table as you screamed, your release crashing over you, wave after wave of pleasure hurtling you closer and closer to a darkness that wanted to claim you. But you clung to consciousness, your scream turning into a high, keening whine that could’ve been a sign of pain or pleasure. 

Your release seemed to spur on Curtis and he rutted into you, fucking your clenching pussy as he watched pleasure contort your face and body. Then, with a final grunt, Curtis pulled himself free from your body. He jerked his cock in a big fist until he spilled all over your belly, making sure none of his come fell anywhere near your pussy or the tattoo there.

Curtis’s chest heaved, his eyes distant and dazed with pleasure as he wrung every last drop of come from his cock, and you watched him with the satisfied smile of a job well done. 

When the last rope of his come had splattered, warm and sticky, against your belly, Curtis finally sucked in a deep breath and grabbed the beer handed to him from the crowd. He took a deep swig while he tucked his cock away with the other hand. 

“Thanks, Levinson,” Curtis rasped, tipping his bottle to your trucker, who just nodded. Ari’s hands were idly massaging your wrists and you melted onto the rough felt of the pool table, knowing your trucker would take care of you. Curtis turned his blue eyes on you, and he tipped his bottle to you as well. “Always a pleasure, bambi,” he said, a genuine look of appreciation on his face. 

You were about to respond, but then Curtis turned his beer over and he used the alcohol to wash his come from your skin. You squealed loudly when the cold liquid rushed over your heated skin, instinctively bringing up your legs to curl into yourself, making the crowd laugh and jeer. 

When the beer was empty and his spend was cleaned from your skin, Curtis stumbled away into the crowd, the big man being swallowed up by the well-wishers and revelers congratulating him on fucking you good. Since you knew Curtis was done with you, you looked up at Ari, twisting your hands to wrap your fingers around his arms.

“Can we go now, daddy?” you asked softly.

Ari nodded and gathered you up from the pool table, setting you down on the edge while he pulled off the flannel shirt he’d worn over a white t-shirt. He tugged it over your head and helped you get your trembling arms in the sleeves, then ducked down to brush a kiss to your lips. The events of the night were catching up to you, and you were drunk and exhausted, but you sighed into your trucker’s mouth.

“You did good tonight, baby,” Ari murmured against your lips, and your heart felt like it was suffused in the warmest sunlight. Ari’s praise made you feel lighter than air, even as he pulled away.

You smiled up at your trucker as he straightened, staring at Ari like he was your whole world, which he was. His eyes were the softest you’d ever seen them as he stared right back at you, the tiniest smile curling the corners of his mouth. 

Just then, Lloyd materialized out of the crowd and Ari finally looked away from you to exchange a loaded glance with his other oldest friend. Lloyd seemed to be much more sober than Curtis, and he helped your trucker lead you to the bathroom, where Ari cleaned you up a little and let you relieve yourself after all that you’d had to drink that night. 

Then, Lloyd cleared a path through the drunken crowd while you and Ari followed. Between the two men, no one dared to try to touch you, and you sank into Ari’s side, feeling safe with your trucker as you looped your arms loosely around his waist. He smelled familiar and wonderful and you didn’t even try to hold yourself back from burying your face in his chest even as you kept on walking.

Lloyd pushed open the door of Everett’s Roadhouse and you sighed happily when the cool night air brushed against your heated, still slightly sticky cheeks. Gravel crunched beneath the soles of your sandals, and you blinked your eyes in the darkness until they focused enough to see Ari’s big, black truck looming in packed parking lot surrounded by other long-haul rigs.

“Drysdale’s gonna have a lot of business tonight after that show your girl put on,” Lloyd commented, casting his gaze across the expanse between Everett’s Roadhouse and Diesel Dolls, the strip club on the other side of the parking lot. Lloyd snorted and adjusted the front of his pants, and it was only then that you noticed the sizable bulge there. “Including me,” he muttered.

Your hazy thoughts strayed to the strip club, and you couldn’t help but imagine Lloyd getting a lap dance from a beautiful stripper. The tattoo artist sitting back on a plush couch while a gorgeous woman gyrated on his lap, his fingers twitching to grab her and touch her and defile her the way you knew Lloyd liked.

You didn’t even think to picture yourself as the stripper. Instead, in this little fantasy, you were sitting on Ari’s lap, your trucker’s cock buried in your cunt. Maybe he’d even let you get your own lap dance from Lloyd’s stripper, your body pressed between Ari’s and the other woman…

Your body lurched forward and if it wasn’t for Ari’s firm grip on your waist, you would’ve gone sprawling across the parking lot. For the rest of the walk to Ari’s rig, you tried to focus on putting one foot in front of the other and not let your mind wander so you wouldn’t end up feeling more sore than you already were. 

When the three of you came to a stop beside the driver’s side door of Ari’s truck, Lloyd let his eyes slide to you before moving quickly to your trucker. 

“I hope you had a similar gift in mind for my birthday, Levinson,” Lloyd said with his usual oily charm, his mouth curling into a smirk beneath his well-groomed mustache. 

“We’ll see,” Ari rumbled, but his tone was good-natured. You couldn’t help the way your body clenched at the salacious, and somewhat victorious smile Lloyd shot your way.

But the events of the night were weighing heavily on your shoulders, exhaustion creeping into your bones, and you didn’t have the brainpower to wonder what Lloyd might do with you if you were gifted to him on his birthday. Even if you knew you’d have just as much fun with Ari’s other friend as you’d had with Curtis.

“Daddy,” you whined softly, burying your face against Ari’s beefy chest. His hand squeezed your hip possessively and he said his goodbyes to Lloyd, then helped you into the truck, making sure he was the only one who could see the way your pussy flashed as you climbed into the cab.

Ari followed you up and locked the door behind him while you crawled into the cot in the back, laying down on top of his soft blankets despite the sticky residue still clinging to most of your body. Ari pulled off his t-shirt and kicked off his pants, then joined you in the narrow bed. 

Your body melted at the familiar comfort of his weight behind you, and you began to relax as sleep tugged at the edges of your awareness. But when Ari’s cock pressed hot and hard against your bare ass, you remembered his promise from inside the bar, how he said he was going to fuck you whether you were awake or not. You moaned softly while he bunched up the flannel shirt you still wore around your waist. 

Your face was already pressing into the soft pillow on Ari’s bed, your eyes closed, but you arched your back and pushed your ass against Ari’s hard length, inviting him to slide inside your slick cunt. You were sore from Curtis’s fucking, but wet again for your trucker. You were always wet for him, your body craving the feeling of his cock filling you up in the perfect way that only he could. 

“Ya gonna stay awake for me while I use your messy cunt, cock whore?” Ari rumbled into the back of your neck. The flat of his tongue swiped up the column of your throat, wringing a soft whine from you as he licked the beer from your skin. It felt so good, sending shivers down your spine and raising goosebumps all over your body. “Or did my friend wear you out?”

All you could manage was an unintelligible mumble, the sound muffled by the pillow crushed beneath your face, as sleep pushed more insistently into the border of your wakefulness. Ari’s deep chuckle rumbled against your spine, making you even wetter for your filthy, perfect trucker.

“Go to sleep, kiddo,” Ari murmured in your ear, his hand sliding over your hip to press against your lower belly, his fingertips grazing the tattoo that was branded into the skin of your mound, just above your pussy. His touch moved your body slightly, arching you enough for the head of his cock to find the slit of your cunt. “Let daddy use your tight little hole while you get some rest.” 

Ari slid inside your pussy slowly, pressing the air from your lungs as he took his time impaling you on his cock. Your aching inner walls clenched around him desperately, pain and pleasure flaring to life and zinging through your exhausted limbs. A rough, greedy grunt rumbled in Ari’s chest, the sound softening into a warm, satisfied groan once he was fully seated inside you.

It hurt a little to be stretched out around Ari’s cock so soon after taking Curtis’s pounding, but when your trucker wrapped his arms around you, holding you cocooned in the cage of his broad chest while he rocked his hips almost gently against your ass, you felt yourself melting into him. Ari’s lips and tongue worked against your neck, licking sticky beer from your skin, his beard deliciously familiar while he set an almost soothing pace as he fucked you.

Despite the soreness between your thighs, and the tiny zings of pleasure thrumming through your body from Ari’s cock rocking into you, your exhaustion was too great and it wasn’t long before you were slipping into the warm comfort of sleep. That night in Ari’s truck, you fell asleep with a blissed out, cock drunk smile on your face, happy as could be to be in your trucker’s arms.

You may have spent much of the night as a gift for the bar owner your trucker called a friend, and you were glad you could be part of making Curtis’s birthday special, but you would always belong to Ari. And you would always end your nights in his arms, because that was where you wanted to be and where you belonged—with your trucker, Ari Levinson.

“Want to make a little video of you. How’s that sound?” Harry said as Y/n looked down at the pretty lacy nighty set he’d just gifted her. She was used to him buying her things but this little gift with silk and lace and bows was super sexy and feminine and exactly something she’d love to have.

Looking up at him with rounded eyes she smiled, “Anything you want, Daddy. Is this for the video?” She asked as she lifted the lingerie upward.

Harry brushed his fingers over the material and nodded, “If you want. You’ll be the star so you can decide what you’d like to wear or not wear.”

Looking over the delicate fabric she nodded and bit her lip, “I’ll go change. I really like this. Think it’ll be really pretty for a video.”

It was stunning. When she slid it up her hips and tucked her breasts into the flimsy lace she looked at herself in the mirror and grinned. It really was lovely. She imagined that the lingerie was very expensive. Nothing she could ever afford. But of course, nothing Harry bought her was in her price range.

The moment she walked into the bedroom, dawning the sexy lacy set and a pair of sleek black heels, Harry already had his cellphone recording and the lights dimmed. He was sitting on a chair with his legs spread and watching her as she stepped in closer.

She’d never done anything like it before. Being recorded was nerve-wracking. She wasn’t sure how to act or what to do as she stopped and stood just feet from her lover.

“What should I do?” She asked shyly as she brushed her hands over her sides and looked down at herself.

“Show Daddy how you touch yourself, baby. Use that chair next to you if you want to sit or bend yourself over it. Show me what a good girl does for her daddy.”

Harry was already aching for her. He’d been gone at work all day and had missed her. The vintage lingerie set that he bought her last week finally came in that afternoon and seeing it hidden away in the box under his desk had him imagining what she might look like in it all day. But what he imagined hadn’t even been close to reality. The way it fit over her curves made it look like it’d been tailored for her. Her breasts were held in as the lace softly stretched over her skin and her nipples were visible through the thin fabric. Tiny bows on either hip that dangled silk over her smooth skin. She looked edible.

She smiled and rubbed her hands over her breasts first. She felt her soft tits under the fabric and pressed her nipples through the lace to get them hard as she watched Harry. Moving her hips a little she laughed in embarrassment at herself as she lowered her hands over her stomach and to her hips. She felt silly. She wasn’t a good dancer in any setting but trying to do some sort of strip dance while being recorded? In front of Harry?

Harry had a serious expression on his face though as he turned on a sexy song for her to dance to, “You’re doing so well, baby. Look at how pretty you are for Daddy. Like a little present with lace on top and little bows on your hips. Keep going, honey.”

The music gave her something to move to so she swayed her hips a little more as she continued feeling the fabric under her palms. She kept her eyes on Harry’s, wanting him to give her cues but he was silent as he watched her. She decided to lift her arms upward and spin. She spun slowly and kept her neck turned so she could see Harry and when she saw him lick his lips and his eyes drag down her frame to her hips and her waist she felt like that was a good sign.

She bent herself down, slowly pushing her bottom out and lowering her hands to her ankles before attempting to sensually pull herself upright again. Her rhythm had never been great but she was doing her best to move to the slow and sexy beat.

Placing her hands on the chair she arched her back and wiggled her tush a little as Harry’s expression turned a little darker. He looked like he was getting turned on and that really had her tummy bubbling with excitement.

“You’re a natural, Y/n. So fucking gorgeous for Daddy. Keep going, baby. I wanna see you get a little nasty.”

She knew her face was hot and her ears were on fire. Her nerves were peaking but she felt like he was enjoying what he was seeing based on the way he was looking at her. And if that didn’t give it away, the bulge at his crotch was a good indicator.

She put her pointer and middle finger in her mouth, using her tongue to swipe up and down her digits as she sat down in the chair across from Harry. Spreading her legs apart she watched as he angled his cell phone toward her and she pulled her wet fingers out of her mouth, “Like this, Daddy?” She lowered her left hand down between her thighs and pressed her wetted fingers over the thin material at her crotch. She continued rocking lightly to the music as she gazed into Harry’s eyes and bit her lip.

Harry watched as she toyed with herself over the fabric of her lingerie and he was nearly bursting from his pants. He loved how sweet and shy she acted but he knew she could be absolutely filthy if she wanted to, “Bring your other hand up and play with your tits too. They look like they need some attention.” He directed.

She was thankful he told her. She preferred to be given directions and now she at least knew for sure he wanted to see her play with her breasts.

Touching the fabric over her boobs she poked one finger under the lace and brushed over her nipple as she continued circling over the fabric at her crotch with her other hand.

Harry pressed over his erection as he watched his girl do her thing. She was adorable but he could tell she was finally getting worked up, “Don’t stop touching yourself until it’s all wet. Want you to show Daddy how wet you can get.”

Y/n let out a deep breath and nodded as she continued fingering over her nipples and rubbing the warm spot between her legs.

“Daddy, want to touch it. Under this. Can I?” She poked her finger along the inside edge of her panties close to her pussy.

“Yes, baby. Pull it to the side. Let’s have a look at Daddy’s sweet little cunt.”

She pulled at the material and pushed it to the side, exposing her pussy to Harry and his camera. Spreading her legs further she leaned back and swayed her neck as she rubbed herself, “It’s getting wet for you Daddy. Just like you like.” She lifted her fingers and puffed a small laugh, “See?”

Harry groaned and undid his pants to let his cock have a bit more space. He was going to lose it. Yes, she was adorable, but she was a vixen and she knew what she was doing.

When the material of her panties was all wet and her soft panting had her chest rising and falling she began to pull at the lace over her breasts and bring her tits out, “Want you to see how hard my nipples are.”

Harry leaned forward and examined her body as her breasts bounced free from the top of the night set, “Now that your pussy’s all messy, want to see you dance a little baby. Start taking off your lingerie one piece at a time.”

Y/n moaned as she removed her hand from her pussy and stood up with a grin. Harry’s hard cock and his parted lips and dark eyes told her what she needed to know. He loved what he saw and her confidence to keep going was spurred.

The top part of the lingerie was unhooked and pulled off as she moved with the music and then she turned around so her bottom was aimed at Harry as she bent and looked over her shoulder, “Watch this Daddy.”

Harry was watching all right. That was never going to be an issue. He’d kept his eyes on her body the entire time, “Oh baby. You’re such a sweet girl with your ass in the air for Daddy like that. Can you stick your fingers inside your wet hole for me? Want to see you finger yourself like this.”

She grasped onto the chair and pulled the fabric away from her crotch again. It was soaked through. She kept her head turned so she could watch Harry as she brought her hand around her bottom and spread her legs, pushing two fingers into her pussy for the camera, “Feels good, Daddy. Wish it was your fingers inside of me.” She panted her words.

She arched her back further as she continued thrusting her fingers and keeping her eyes on Harry. The angle was perfect. Her backside was bare to him, the fabric pushed over so he could see everything, wet and puffy with her fingers stuffed into herself. Her tits swayed as she rocked herself to the beat and her high heels made her look extra slutty.

“Now turn to face the camera again. Want to see your perfect breasts.”

She pulled her hand away and stood as she turned and gyrated her hips and squeezed her tits together, “You like it, Daddy? Is it a good video?”

Harry nodded, “Very good. How would you feel about me fucking you and recording it? I promise no one will ever see it but us.” He hadn’t intended on it, but now that he had started it he figured why the hell not?

She would say yes to anything he wanted. She never questioned his decisions, “I like that if you want it. Want you to fuck me, Daddy.”

Harry groaned and let out a laugh, “In due time. Pull the rest of that off, baby. Keep your heels on, though.”

Her hips moved slowly as she pushed her fingers into the band of her bottoms and began to pull them down her legs, still attempting to keep up with the beat.

Harry stood up and held the phone out so he could capture everything, “Let’s have a little smoke, and then I’m gonna set this up and fuck you. Keep dancing baby.”

Lighting up a joint after he propped his phone up to record Y/n as she danced he took a puff and then handed it to her.

Taking it between her fingers she drew in a breath of the cannabis and continued dancing slowly wearing only her high heels. One hand she used to run over her curves, feel over her breasts, and down to her tummy while she inhaled and then blew out the smoke from her lips.

Harry took the joint from her to let her get back into the little strip tease she began doing.

“My pretty girl. Who’s girl are you baby?”

Y/n looked at Harry and ran her hands upward and swung her hips, “I’m your girl, Daddy.”

His smile and the sultry gaze had Y/n feeling quite bold so she tilted her neck from side to side with the beat then pinched her boobs together, “Mmm… look, Daddy…” her moans were soft as she thumbed over her nipples and swayed, “So pretty for you. Am I pretty for you?”

Harry swallowed and nodded, “So pretty for Daddy, that’s right.” He sat down on the chair she was dancing next to as the camera kept recording, “Can you give me a lap dance? Want to see how filthy you can be.”

Wearing only her heels she looked at the camera and then climbed over his lap, facing him. Her drippy pussy was on display for the video as she gently moved her hips and Harry kept his hands on the arms of the chair.

She arched her back and sighed as she rolled her hips and tried to stay steady over him as well as she could.

“You can put your hands on my shoulders if you want. I’ll allow it.”

She quickly lowered her hands so she could stabilize herself as she rocked and swayed to the music, “Like it, Daddy? I’m a good girl for you aren’t I?”

Harry groped at her ass and pulled her down over him, her pussy pressed against the zipper of his pants, “My good girl. Does exactly what Daddy asks of her.”

She smiled and nodded as she rolled her hips over him. She knew she was wet but as she felt Harry’s zipper under her she gasped and looked down, “Oh no, Daddy. I’m getting your pants all wet.”

Harry was barely holding it together. He was ready to destroy her, “S’okay. Wouldn’t be the first time, would it? Can be washed. You’re just a dirty girl. Can’t help it when she’s messy.”

When she felt Harry pull her in closer she felt like her body was on fire. She knew he was going to be fucking her soon. His cock was hard and his eyes and irises were nearly fully covered by his pupils, “I’m so messy sometimes, Daddy,” she said as she began to climb off his lap and settle onto the floor between his legs. Turning around to look into the camera before looking back up at Harry she hesitantly put her hands up to his zipper, “Can I pull you out? Wanna suck on you so bad.” The camera had the perfect angle of her taking him into her mouth as Harry struggled to keep his mind clear. He wanted to give her a taste but he really wanted fuck her brains out.

She took him down her throat as Harry pushed his hands into her hair and made her gurgle over him a few times before he lifted her up and stood from his spot and bent her over the chair, “Daddy needs to feel this pussy right now. Needs to fuck his little girl before he goes crazy. You did so good for me, baby.”

Harry watched the camera as he pushed himself into her tight, wet hole. She gasped and clung onto the chair as he stuffed into her, “Yesss… Daddy…”

Moans and grunts and slow, long thrusts started the scene. His sweet girl was only wearing heels as he was nearly fully clothed, his cock the only thing exposed to the camera as he started to work into her at a faster pace.

He pressed her down by the back of her neck, her face into the seat cushion of the chair with her mouth wide open. She could barely make a peep once he began to thud into her harder. The sturdy chair moved under their weight as each heavy plunge was given to her.

Harry kept one hand at her bottom, pulling her soft skin so he could watch his cock disappear into her slippery pussy over and over again. The camera was picking up the scene from the side and Harry knew his cock could be seen entering her pussy at the angle it was in. It was perfect for his own private collection.

When he spanked her bottom quickly she groaned and gasped, the first noises from her throat since he’d been inside of her and he smiled, “There you are. Wondered where your voice went. Little girl needs spankings to get her to speak up? Hm?”

She was being rocked and jolted at each of his harsh thrusts and her clit was rubbing hard over the fabric of the arm of the chair and it felt divine. Her eyes were rolled into the back of her head as she gurgled and tried to respond but her body was already sending her into an orgasm.

Harry coughed out a surprised laugh as he felt her clench and spasm over his cock and he closed his eyes as she came around him. It was the best feeling in the world to have Y/n’s pussy in orgasm while he was inside of her. There was nothing like it.

He landed another palm on her bottom as she began to come down and he pulled out, lifting her up gently. He wrapped his hands around her hair and pulled her back into his chest as he spoke into her ear, “On your knees for me little girl.”

Y/n clumsily got to her knees and turned to face Harry. She was a mess with drool on her face, palm prints on her backside, messy hair, and mascara down her cheeks. A gorgeous mess.

Harry grasped her hair into a makeshift ponytail and began to pump his cock in front of her face, “Open up wide and stick out that pretty tongue.”

She looked up at him in a daze as she opened her mouth and jutted her tongue out for him. She kept her hands behind her back, knowing that’s how he liked it. She only touched when he allowed her to.

The moment his warm, pink tip settled over her tongue she licked along the parts she could reach and moaned at the taste of his precome dripping. Harry continued stroking himself off, his slit in contact with her taste buds as he groaned at the sight, “My little fuck doll. Loves having Daddy’s cock in all her holes,” He pushed himself down into her throat in one swift motion and held her down on him as he continued, “Goddamn, baby. Always take it so well. So pretty when your mouth is stuffed and throat is gagging.”

He pulled back out as she gasped and kept her mouth wide open. She kept her eyes on his and slid her tongue out to reach for his pretty cock but with the way he was holding her hair she couldn’t move her head and Harry went back to stroking himself on her tongue.

He wanted to come inside of her pussy and show the camera the creampie and how cute she was dripping with him, but he also wanted to record himself coming on her face and her tits.

He felt his balls squeeze to his body as he moaned and felt his tummy swirl as his orgasm started to unfold.

Gonna cover you in my come, baby. Fuck, so pretty…” he pumped faster as his fingers tightened in her hair and he felt his legs quiver as he finally began to release.

The first pump of his come went into her mouth before he angled himself to spurt on her face and then her neck and to her tits. Harry’s groans and the sound of his palm stroking his cock, getting come all over his shaft as he poured himself all over her pretty skin was pornographic. He knew the video would be good for later. He’d have them watch it that night as he fucked her again before bed.

“Fuck, baby! God… ffffuuu…” his words were panted as he slowly came down and gently released her hair.

His chest heaved slightly as he caught his breath and grasped her chin, angling her face upward, “Time to lick Daddy’s cock clean, baby. Go on.”

Y/n got to it immediately, swiping her tongue over his shaft and down his balls and back upward, swallowing his come and her arousal, lapping at him like he was a lollipop.

“Mmmm…” she moaned as she looked up at him with her tongue roving over his skin.

“Yeah? Tastes good sweetheart? It’s cause your pussy was there too. Like how you taste don’t you?”

Y/n nodded as Harry backed away and tucked himself into his briefs. He bent down to his cute girl with his come all over her and swiped up a glob from her tits putting his fingers up to her mouth, “Taste.”

She happily opened her mouth and wrapped her lips around his fingers, licking those clean as well. Harry sighed and grinned, “Daddy’s dirty girl.”

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It was his bachelor party and his mates had encouraged him- forced him, really- to go to the back room to get a private dance from the one he’d been eyeing up all night. It was hard not to, with her creamy smooth skin, breasts held up perfectly by her bra and those fucking garters around her thighs- it was a major weakness of his. She moved her body like water, smooth and rippling as she worked around the pole. Hair following her like a velvet curtain and a cat like grin, full of filthy promise. His head had been reeling as an unfamiliar feeling rose in his guts and his cock shamefully grew in his trousers. 

The thing was- He’d been trying to talk himself out of having cold feet for months. Proposing was what felt like the next logical step. That’s what her friends had said, what her parents had hinted out. They weren’t wrong, he supposed. Savannah was a good girl, someone his parents approved of, and she was nice. The sex was alright, she didn’t complain, and she was beautiful. But there was something missing. 

That passion. That lust he’d always thought he would feel when it came to his forever partner. Something he’d been convinced wasn’t real. And he was a piece of shit, because watching the woman in the skimpy get up approach him as he sat in the oversized cushy chair, his cock had more interest in her than it had in his fiancè in the last 4 months. 

“Hello.” She purred, syrupy voice warming his bones. “I heard I was specifically requested and with quite a nice tip promised. I can’t help but be flattered.” He could see her skin sparkling, like there was body shimmer sprinkled all over her. The thighs, the chest, her breasts especially- he felt that guilt in his stomach start to dissipate as she got closer to him. She smelled sweet, like coconuts and vanilla, and she stared right back into his eyes. Her lips painted a cherry red, he nearly panted as she placed her knees on either side of his spread thighs and sat on top of him. 

God, he felt like his heart could beat out of his chest. Her warmth went straight to his cock though she wasn’t sitting on it yet, her hair long and brushing his forearm as he kept it on the arm of the leather chair. It was oversized for this specific purpose, he thought. 

“Well, I have to admit to you that the feeling is mutual. I could feel your eyes on me when I was on the stage and I was impressed. Such a handsome man.” Her fingers stroked his jawline, tilting it up towards her face as she moved her hips. He was hypnotized. Eyes dipping to her lips and back up to her heated eyes. “You’ve got me for an hour, now. I think you should introduce yourself.” 

He could barely feel his tongue, but he had to get to talking. She almost intimidated him, sitting on top of him and touching him like she had all the rights to be there. Like he wasn’t about to get married. “Harry. My name’s Harry.” He rasped, managing to spew those words out without losing his tongue. Thank god, because he knew it wanted to do many other things. 

“Yeah? Well, Harry… you can call me Angel.” She purred, slipping her fingers up and through his hair. It was embarrassing when he let out a soft moan, feeling her manicured nails against his scalp. It had been so long since someone touched him like this. His fiancè was sweet, but she didn’t really… do much for him. Not like this. She’d make a good wife, a good mother no doubt, but he wanted more than that. “I don’t usually take offers like this, you know.” The temptation moved from straddling him to standing in front of him, turning around and bending over to brush her ass against his crotch. “I don’t do private rooms but being blunt? I thought you were sexy. We can break a few rules tonight, can’t we?” 

Her body laid on top of his as she rolled her ass on top of him, making him drop his head back against the chair. There was no way she couldn’t feel his cock, not with the way it was straining against his trousers. She moved perfectly against it, her arm coming back to tangle in his hair. Her temple was against his cheek, feeling the slight scruff as she took his hand from where it was clenching the arm of the chair with white knuckles, pulling it to run over her stomach. 

“Usually… we don’t let people touch us. But I think I can make an exception for you.” Her hand was slow as she moved it up, trying to feel for any resistance. It was clear she wasn’t going to make him do more than he wanted- but that was the problem. He wanted. Fucking desperately. It was hard to hold on to the resolve, to remain faithful when the girl of his dreams was dangling herself like a cat going for a string. He wanted to touch and taste and feel. All the things he absolutely, positively should not do. 

“Yeah?” His voice was dark and rough, trying to find his self control and ultimately failing as he let her drag his hand up and cup around her breast. The both of them let out a noise of relief as he squeezed without her urging, continuing her moving on him. “What kind of exception?” 

“Well… your friends told me that you have one more night of freedom. That you didn’t seem like you were getting what you needed in your other situation.” Her thumb ran over his ring finger. “They told me that you needed to pull your head out of your ass and see that it’s a mistake.” Her body moved further up, lips ghosting his jaw. “To put it bluntly, Harry, they wanted me to show you that you could have the attention you want. Don't settle for the first pretty face that someone approves of. Sometimes….” She moaned as his fingers pinched her pierced nipple through the lace of her bra. “Sometimes you’ve got to be reminded of the things you could have.” 

Harry was in a trance. He’d barely had a sip of his drink, having been too enthralled with her on the stage. His friends must have noticed it, and he hadn’t even been sure considering he had stared her whole set. Tipped most of his cash he’d taken out. At one cold sober, and he couldn’t even blame it on anything but his own mind. He hadn’t allowed himself to look at other women, tried desperately to make this work and be faithful but fuck, he was losing. Her supple ass moved against his cock, his fingers plucked her nipple as she was giving him an in. 

“And how am I going to be reminded of that?” He was going to regret this, probably. When he woke up tomorrow and the adrenaline had faded… or maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe his mind would be as clear like he had been dying to have it. 

“Like this.” She hummed. “Let yourself do what you want with me, Harry. If you do decide to go through with it… if you cuff yourself to that woman, as lovely as she may be… you’ll have had one final night of freedom.” Her voice was a purr. “Let me take care of you.”

It scared him. Being locked into a relationship he knew he wasn’t going to be fully satisfied with… it wasn’t what anyone wanted, but he felt a little trapped. He’d settled, he knew that, but it hadn’t been so obvious to him until a woman he was truly attracted to came and ruined his plans. It wasn’t fair to put this on her, but it was like looking at his decision for what it was. A mistake. 

He wished he could be stronger. He wished he had more resolve, that his prick wasn’t leaking in his pants as he palmed her tits, that he stopped her from sinking to her knees and undoing the belt his fiancè had bought him for his birthday, that he didn’t raise his hips and help her pull his pants down. He wished he could say he didn’t groan in satisfaction as her hot little tongue ran up the length of his cock, from his sac to his tip with a filthy little giggle, but he did it anyways. 

“Fuck…” she cooed. “Such a pretty cock, Harry.” Her words were murmured as she lapped over the leaking slit. “I’m going to take care of you. Don’t worry about a thing, okay?” She took his hand and pulled it to her hair. “I’ll pinch your thigh if I need to stop for a second. Let go of all that worry and let me take care of you.” 

The guilt that had still tried to roll around in his stomach began to dissipate yet again as she sunk her head down on his length. Taking him down, showing off her skills as he felt the tip of his cock in back of her fucking throat. His mouth fell open as he looked down, feeling her nose brush his tummy before she pulled up, saliva stringing to her lips as she sent him a filthy grin. Harry hadn’t felt that in ages, his fiancè more gentle with the way she gave oral- refined. She didn’t like to do it much anyways  which- it was fine. Everyone had their preferences. But fuck, when she spit thickly on his cock and used her hand to stroke and smear it all over, he remembered just how much he missed a sloppy blowie. How much he missed the animalistic desire, when a person would be so eager to please that they’d put their all into it. 

“Shit.” He hissed through his teeth. “That’s good.” The words fell from his tongue without a second thought and her eyes brightened as she sucked the tip back into her mouth. The soft squelch of her wet hand stroking him was audible, sucking firm on the ruddy tip and her tongue brushed the slit, making his breathing quicken. He was only a few minutes into it and it was the best head he’d ever had. “Take more.” 

The Angel on her knees simply looked up at him, putting her clean hand on his on the back of her head and motioning for him to push. 

Fuck. 

“You- You want me to fuck your mouth.” He rasped, watching as she nodded, humming the best she could around him. How could he say no to that? When his prick was dripping for her and her hand was firmly stroking over the base. He held her hair in his hand, slowly pushing her down as he watched. Her red lips had smeared on his cock and his stomach and he knew he’d need to wash up before he got home and his clueless fiancè possibly saw, but it sent a thrill up his spine. Watching her stretched lips sink all the way down, marveling at how she took it with only a few gags- he was in his own version of heaven. 

“Christ, you’re good at that.” He grit his teeth, pulling her up slightly before pushing her back down. “Let me know when you need to breathe. Fuck, it’s been so long.” His head rolled back on the chair, lifting his hips slightly as he felt her throat flex. She was drooling around him, letting out noises that vibrated against him and added to the pleasure. It was disgusting, filthy, so fucking wrong- and yet he was obsessed. 

She sat like a good girl, even though she was being a filthy whore for him, her free hand gently dragging her nails over his inner thigh. It made him fucking crazy, hissing as he really fucked into her throat. She’d feel it tomorrow, she’d remember taking his spoken for prick into her mouth and changing his whole fucking world view. “Such a good slut for me. Can’t believe you’re taking all of this, fucking Angel.” He slurred, rutting up into her face as she let out little gags and fueled his arousal. 

Giving her a chance to breathe, he relished in the choked sound she let out as he pulled out of her mouth. She panted, pulling on his length before spitting on him. The girl was a fucking wreck, eyes wet with tears and chin dripping with spit but she looked happier than he’d ever seen anyone else taking his cock. It made him think about how she’d never seemed this happy to pleasure him. It was done, of course, but it seemed like a chore. This girl, Angel, which he doubted was her real name- she was enjoying every bit of it. Loving it. “You like sucking me off, don’t you?” He thumbed away some of the mess. 

“I love it.” She admitted, turning her head to press a kiss over his thumb. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to suck a pretty cock. None have been as good as yours.” The girl’s voice was wrecked and it did something to him, the most primal part. “Is this all you want, sir?” Her eyes gazed into his own. “Did you want to cum into my throat? Or….” She tilted her head. “Did you want to do more to me?” Her eyes fluttered as she gave him a soft, coy little look that made his prick twitch in her hand. “I’ll give you anything you want.”

The man didn’t even know that was an option. Honestly- he shouldn’t. This was bad enough. He was cheating, he was fucking up massively, but he couldn’t deny he was drawn to this woman. This beautiful stripper who had given him the most glorious head and let him fuck into her throat. It would be wrong to fuck her. So fucked up, so awful to do this and crawl back into bed with Savannah when he got home- but he couldn’t say no. He really, really needed this. 

“I want to know your real name before I fuck you.” He decided, sealing his fate as an awful- but sexually satisfied- person.

“Y/N.” She mumbled, moving up his body. “But don’t tell anyone else, yeah? I like you…” her lips brushed against his own. “So I’m going to let you do awful, filthy things to me. The stuff the girl at home won’t let you do.” The side  took the lead again and took his hand, cupping it over his cunt. “Don’t waste a tight, hot cunt that’s wet for you. Or… my ass.” She purred. “It’s all up to you. I’m open to anything with a cock like that.” 

Harry moved in a blur. A double check she was okay with it, a condom being produced from the side drawer that she slipped on his cock and her body climbing on top of his, he couldn’t really find a way to stop himself when the mere sight of her had changed his plans, ruined his mental resolve. Her panties yanked to the side, her slick cunt wasted no time. He’d offered to prep her but she shook her head, telling him she wanted the stretch- and he wasn’t going to tell this girl no. 

His mouth fell open as he groaned, watching her cunt spread for him. He had a front row seat as she sat herself on top of his cock, watching it fill her up. She whimpered, nails digging into his shoulders as her tummy jumped at the sharp breaths, but she never stopped. Slowly taking him in, she engulfed him and covered him in that tight, sopping heat that he had been desperate for. She was much tighter than the woman he had waiting for him at home, and the thought only spurred him on. “Fuck me… you’re so tight.” He hissed, hands gripping her ass tight. His marks would be visible on her. She’d stumble home and go to sleep, wake up with the reminder of his cock in her and his hands on her- but he couldn’t have the same. He wished he could, though he doubted he could ever forget this. 

“Just for you.” She purred, pushing him to lean back against the chair. Fully sat on him, she began to grind over him. Whimpering as her clit brushed his stomach, looking at his face as his eyes were moving from where they were connected and her face. He looked almost like he was in pain, but she knew it was pleasure. Getting used to feeling her around him. The girl knew it was wrong to do this, but she never claimed to be a saint. A man as sexy as him should be positive about who he was marrying, because god knew he could get anyone he wanted. “Is that what you needed, Harry? Needed a tight cunt wrapped around your big cock?” She leaned in and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Testing her limits. 

Everything about this was wrong, but it had never felt so right being inside of a woman. Feeling her squeeze him as she rocked back and forth in his lap, her breasts brushing his chest and her lips nearing his. He knew kissing her would be the final nail in the coffin, the last straw, there would be no turning back or controlling his urges. But he knew she was the one in control at the moment and he was at the mercy of the beautiful woman and the needs of his leaking cock. “So fucking good, baby.” He panted. “S’all I needed.” 

Y/N beamed, grabbing a handful of his hair and pulling his head back before connecting their lips. And that was game over for Harry. 

He gave in. Submitting to his desires, the last tiny droplet of guilt drying up like water on a hot pan. Sizzling away as the arousal burned hot in his gut, his balls tight and full as she began to lift herself up and down on his prick and her tongue entered his mouth. Sweet like cherry vanilla, moaning into his mouth as she fucked herself on his cock like she owned it. Hell- he had to admit that tonight, she did own it. She was giving him everything that he had been dying for, begging for, but couldn’t have. He’d settled without it for a while but this was the reminder that it could be better- he could have better. 

She was so fucking wet. Harry’d never felt pussy like this before, not with it dripping down to his balls and smearing over his stomach as she whimpered against his mouth. Her hand held his hair and tugged, making him growl against her mouth as he began to fuck into her. Sinking down further into the chair with his feet firm on the ground, bucking into her welcoming, sopping hole as she let out little noises against his mouth. 

“Take me.” She taunted through breaths. “Fuck me, Harry. Fuck me like you’ve been needing.” Lips dragged across his own and he could feel her smile. “She doesn’t give it to you like this, does she?” Her hand pulled harder at the nape of his neck, making him grit his teeth. “Doesn’t suck you nice and messy, doesn’t let you take her pussy like this? How could she waste such a gorgeous cock…” her other hand clenched down on his shoulder, a squeak leaving her as Harry’s hand came down roughly on her ass. “Oh, fuck. She doesn’t let you do that either, does she?” The girl had nerve to giggle against him, suckling on his bottom lip as he snarled. “Do it again, baby. Hit me.” 

Harry felt like he could pass out. Fucking into her cunt without reservation, her filthy words fanning the flames of his arousal and dousing any possible guilt even just talking about her, she told him to smack her ass again. So he did. He didn’t hold back, feeling the sting in his hand but also noticing how she got even more soaked as his length pistoned into her, how she let out a string of low curses before tugging his hair harsher. “Again.” She growled. “Fuck me, Harry. Fuck me like you can’t do to her. Are you going to lock down this perfect cock on someone who can’t use it right?” Y/N was pushing boundaries but she was getting what she wanted, another rough spank that she was sure would bruise. 

“Yes, yes- you know I’m right.” A giggle of disbelief filled the room, along with the slap of wet skin. “You could have pussy whenever you want. Don’t-don’t tie yourself to someone you can’t pound like a slut. That’s what you’ve been needing, isn’t it? Pussy better than that frigid bitch of a wannabe wife-“ the words were cut off as Harry took control. Turning them around, he stuffed her face into the cushy back of the chair and lifted her hips up, making her scramble to hold on to the chair as he slammed back in. 

“Shut the fuck up.” He hissed, tugging her head to the side so she could breathe but holding on the side of her head so she stayed put. “Just shut up and take my cock like the good little whore you claim to be. Fucking slut.” He smacked her ass again, smiling to himself at the fucked out smile on her face. This was the nasty shit he’d been holding back, no outlet to put it in. It was pathetic, he knew it, not going after what he wanted- but this was a wake up call. Women like Y/N existed. Who wanted it just like he did, who taunted and craved and let themself get messy. Didn’t worry about bruises, who asked for it harder. This was his dream woman, if he was being honest. 

“Sorry, Daddy.” She whined. “I’ll be good for you. Just don’t stop fucking me. I’m gonna cum.” It wasn’t a secret. He could feel it, feel her beginning to pulse around his length as he railed her. He was in her stomach, fucking her deep and she took every inch. The thought lingered in his mind, thinking about how an hour wasn’t enough. He needed more of this. He wanted to take his time, to make her whimpery and wobbly in the knees. Make her fall out of work the next day. It wasn’t something he thought she did, but if she would allow it he knew he was going to pay her for every second. He’d been depriving himself of everything he wanted for the idea of a picture perfect life, for what people thought he should have. “You’re going to make me cum…” the warning was higher pitched, her eyes watering.

“I can feel it. God, can’t believe how lucky I’ve got it. Perfect little slut for my cock.” The chair was hitting the wall but the pumping music outside muffled it. His balls smacked against her clit, getting wet with each thrust and making her legs quiver. The girl’s fingers held tightly to the chair he was fucking her into, body lax and giving him then ability to do whatever he needed. “Maybe I’ll come back and take this pussy again. Would you like that? Like being a nasty fuck like this, ruining my plans?” 

“Yes- yes, don’t keep this dick away from me, Harry. I’ll do anything to have it again.” She was cockdrunk and he knew she may not mean it, but it was what he needed to hear. Y/N was doing what he’d needed to have months ago, providing him the mental clarity to see he was making a massive mistake if he went through with this. “She doesn’t have to know. I’ll be quiet, please- come back and see me. Shit.” Her hand hit the fabric, eyes hooded as he gave her what she needed in return. “Or don’t go th-through with it. I can give you what you need- oh my god.” Her words were interrupted by him spreading her open and spitting right over her hole, thumbing over her ass. “Yes. Yes- please, do it.” 

Harry was in awe of her, pressing into the needy girl’s ass with his thumb and watching as her mouth dropped open. It was a domino effect after that. Pushing his thumb in and pulling it out only once before filling her back up, she began to shake under him before letting out a choked moan of his name- she came. Wet and hot, gushing slightly around his cock and making a mess as she came, slick and perfect for him. 

He wished he had more willpower, but it had been so long since he’d fucked properly. Seeing her whine and reach back, finding his arm and digging her nails into his forearm and cumming like a mess around his cock, he was quick to follow. It surprised him how intense it was. Feeling her pulsating hole trying to milk him of every drop, he growled loudly and sloppily thrust into her, looking at the creamy cunt as he unloaded into the condom. His legs felt weak as he slowed his thrusts, breathing heavy and sweat covering his forehead as he looked down at the view under him. 

His dick sheathed by the best pussy he’d ever had, her ass snug up against his body and her blissed out face looking back at him. He was a mess, one that he knew he wouldn’t be able to explain to anyone without making it abundantly clear about what happened, but this was the best he’d felt in months. 

“You okay?” He asked softly, stroking the hair out of her face. “Went rough on you.” His knuckle brushed away the trail of tears. It did something for his ego, he knew, and this would be something he remembered forever. The most beautiful woman looking at him like he’d hung the damn moon. He’d done that to her. It filled him with pride. This was the feeling he was supposed to have after sex. That feeling he’d been going crazy searching for. Not the slight disappointment as soon as the lackluster orgasm faded. Savannah wasn’t a bad woman, not at all- but she wasn’t right for him. 

“I’m fucking perfect.” She breathed out, shaking her head. “Just- don’t pull out yet. I need a minute.” Her voice was weaker now as she slumped against the chair, Harry following suit. Pressing himself against her back, he took the lead and kissed her again, humming at the taste of him and cherry vanilla on her lips. “Are you going to come back and see me?” She mumbled as he pulled back a bit. 

It wasn’t normal to think about his grumpy face and even crankier demeanor; the way his lips pursed thoughtfully around wordy responses about a student’s answer to an essay question, or his long, calloused fingers that wrapped around the same gel ink pens he always used for grading.

It wasn’t normal for her to fall asleep imagining herself pressing her own plush lips to the same ones that nearly begged for an apology just a few hours ago.

And it certainly wasn’t normal for her professor to admit that he’d spent the weekend thinking of her, either.

The English building stays unlocked until around 9 pm on weekdays, just in case professors end up hauling their grading into late nights or students have group projects. She hurries through the wooden doors as soon as she arrives, hurriedly yanking her mittens off and stuffing them in her coat pockets as she walks the familiar journey down to Harry’s office. She’s unsurprised that most of the offices and classrooms have already gone dim, but the closer she gets to Harry’s, the sooner she realizes that his is the exception. With the bleak, yellowed light from the lamp she’d picked out a few weeks back, she sees a faint luminance from his office’s frosted window. Swallowing, she decides against her better judgment before waltzing in like she owns the place, and instead opts for a hesitant knock, punctuating it with a call of his name. 

“Profess— Harry? Are you in there?” she nibbles on her lip before tacking on a, "It's Y/N."

She hopes he recognizes her voice as she wrings her fingers together in front of her. She thinks she hears muffled movement on the other side of the door, but she’s not entirely sure. It never occurred to her that perhaps he wouldn’t want to see her — maybe he’d peek through the crack of the door, see her face, and widen his own eyes in shock and embarrassment, maintaining silence until she eventually gave up and walked away. Her throat bobs nervously at the imagery. 

She’s ready to give up when the door swings open, revealing a rather flushed looking version of the typically neat, well-kept professor she’s used to seeing. His cheeks don a splotchy pink hue that speckles down to his neck, where his usual button down is currently undone. Underneath, he wears a plain white tee-shirt. She blinks at the small display of intimacy before snapping her eyes back up to his face. He’s running his finger through his messy curls, tugging lightly at the base of the locks.

“Is everything alright?” he asks through a slightly nervous voice. With furrowed eyebrows, she nods her head slowly.

“Yes— well, no, I guess. I feel bad about earlier.”

She chokes the words out in hopes that she can keep her humiliation at bay. She’s unsure if her eyes deceive her, but it seems as though his face relaxes some before he quickly nods, stepping aside to let her in. 

“Um, you have nothing to feel bad about,” he says, shutting the door quietly behind her. She shrugs her shoulders as she stands in the middle of his small office, avoiding his gaze. “I was out of line, Y/N.”

“What did you mean by it?” she rushes out, facing him with a leery expression. “That you spent the weekend thinking of me. And feeling awful about how you’ve treated me.”

His mouth opens and closes, and she can’t help the way she glances down at his raspberry-hued lips. She swallows tightly, biting on her own bottom lip.

“This isn’t something we can do,” he mumbles out breathily with a shake of his head. “You know that, right?”

They’re dancing around the obvious. Her stomach lurches at the low, groveled volume of his voice, and her fingers twitch at her sides as she resists the urge to step closer to him. She’s never been forward with a romantic interest before — she’s never had a reason to be, to uphold a certain level of confidence. 

But she can’t help herself. 

“Tell me, then. Tell me what you thought of this weekend.”

Harry’s nostrils flare. 

“If it’s not something we can do,” Y/N says softly, licking over her lips, “Then whatever you thought about should be nothing, right?”

He’s torn. He’s so utterly torn that it feels like his brain is being split in half. He knows what he should do — he should tell her she’s wrong and that she should leave. He should leave this entire situation behind him, chalk it up to him being a touch-deprived idiot, and move on with his life. Join a few dating apps and find someone decent to settle down with. 

But why would he do what he’s supposed to do?

“I thought about how fucking shitty I felt for ignoring you for weeks after you told me you just wanted my praise,” Harry blurts, heart hammering in his chest as he slowly starts to close the gap between their bodies. “I thought about how much I like having you around — how smart and talented you are, how beautiful and creative your brain is.”

“I’m not—”

“I’m not finished,” he replies curtly, making Y/N’s eyebrows shoot up to her forehead. “I thought about how pretty you are. I thought about how I’m thankful to have you as my assistant, because no one has ever been able to meet me on the same level. I thought about… how I’d be taking advantage of you if I told you any of those things, so I promised that I’d keep them to myself.”

He’s standing directly before her now. He’s so close that she can smell the warm musk of his cologne and see the freckles dotted over his nose. It makes her stomach churn in the best way. 

“Why didn’t you?” she finally breathes out. 

A smirk forms at the edges of his lips. He looks down at her as if he wants to swallow her whole, and she’s not sure that she doesn’t want him to. 

“You asked me to tell you, sweetheart,” he murmurs. He reaches out to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear and her skin zips with electricity. “‘S not much of my fault now, is it?”

Quickly, she shakes her head. She swallows nervously and hopes he doesn’t notice her picking at her nails as she waits for him to surge forward and press a messy kiss to her lips. 

But instead, he stops. 

A look of clarity ghosts over his face and his throat bobs. It doesn’t stop him from thumbing over her chin with sorrowed eyes. 

“We’ll wait until the end of the semester,” he murmurs out. The look of disappointment on Y/N’s face must be obvious because his eyebrows furrow in dejection. “It’s the safest way, okay? After that… after that, I’m yours.”

I’m yours. It echoes through her brain, making her heart thump rapidly in her chest. She feels it everywhere, but the hesitancy remains. 

“Promise me,” she whispers, pressing a wary hand to the expanse of his chest. “Promise me I’m not wasting my time. Promise me that you mean this.”

He can’t help it — before he can even contemplate the consequences, he ducks down to connect their lips. It takes her by surprise but she immediately kisses him back, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck to pull him closer.

Despite the reluctant context, the physical bond is anything but. Harry kisses her unhurriedly, like he has years to worship every bit of her lips. He dips his tongue into her mouth the second she grants him the opportunity, and her chest feels like it’s ready to explode when he squeezes her hip. His large palm easily finds its way to her ass and she whimpers breathily into the seal of his mouth. It’s the only thing that brings him back down to earth — a reminder that he’s no longer daydreaming but experiencing the real thing. He forces himself to break the kiss but leans his forehead against hers, keeping his eyes shuttered closed.

“I promise you,” he exhales, and he feels her nod. “I’m yours.”

. . .

Attempting to act normal around Harry is harder than Y/N had anticipated. 

In hindsight, the evening consisted of a half-assed confession and a rather… intimate kiss that nearly knocked her off her feet. If it had been with anyone else — someone her age, a fellow student or peer, maybe — she, of course, would be anxious over it. But the fact that she had to see him a day later in class was… well, somehow embarrassing. 

She contemplates her outfit for hours, wanting to seem cute and put-together without overly desperate. She was scared it would be written all over her face the second she walked in and sat at her seat beside his podium — "I made out with Professor Styles in his office a day and a half ago and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it for more than two seconds since it happened" may as well have been written across her forehead. 

When she finally does show up to class, Harry looks… well, he looks like his usual self. He’s wearing those wide-legged trousers that she thinks he must have in at least a dozen colors, matched with a button down and a sweater vest overtop. He’s standing at the podium with his back to the entrance as he waits for students to filter in, squeezing his bottom lip between his fingers. He’s reading something, Y/N’s unsure what it is, but when he hears the less than graceful clatter of her setting her things down at the table, he glances over to her and flashes her a smile. 

A smile.

“Hey,” he greets. His voice is low and gruff and if she hadn’t been looking for it, she surely would’ve missed it. But she doesn’t, and it instead sends a zap of lovesick energy thrumming through her body. 

“Hi.” she mumbles back, waving as she leans over to pull her laptop from her bag. 

That’s the extent of the interaction, but it’s far more than she’s ever received from him. Normally, when she arrives at class, he fully ignores her. She only began to take issue with it when she figured out she was growing feelings for him, but somehow the quiet utterance of hey feels like a public acknowledgement of what occurred just a day prior. In some crazy way, it seems like it’s just as open as grabbing her and smacking a hard kiss to her lips. She finds herself wishing he would as he begins today’s lecture on male writers in feminist discourse.

As written on the schedule, Harry’s taking the time to discuss authors like George Herbert, John Berryman, and Leo Tolstoy. Y/N doesn’t feel particularly drawn to any of those figures, though a few weeks back when she and Harry were discussing this unit, they did find a mutual appreciation for Jacques Lacan. He wasn’t originally in the lesson plan — Y/N remembers it vividly, because she can recall saying that he would be a great fit. Her heart had expanded in her chest with praise when Harry agreed. 

And yet… Harry’s standing up there in front of the lecture hall, waxing poetic in the dreamiest way possible, about Jacques Lacan.

“Lacan was incredibly controversial, so I don’t expect all of us to feel comfortable with translating his viewpoints to modern day psychology,” Harry explains as he hovers over the old, wooden podium, “But what I do want to dig into is his basic idea of the symbolic register. Does anyone know what that is?”

Yes, Y/N wants to say. It’s the concept that our existence as humans includes language, culture, and rituals. 

“Lacan came up with this idea that he thought was waiting for us the second we were born. He felt that the symbolic register encompassed maybe more artsy, culture-based facets, and that was one of the most important parts of the human existence. We won’t get too far into it because this isn’t a psychology course, and frankly, I could give a shit if you truly understand this or not.” The class, including Y/N, laughs quietly. Harry rolls his lips into a thin line to avoid a smirk from appearing.

When the huffed merriment tapers off, he continues. “What I want you to take away as writers is this: Lacan’s symbolic register essentially implies that our lives, from the very start, are swamped with uncertainty. There’s no path for us. As you write your characters, consider that. Lacan thought that life experiences, specifically lack and desire, were what impacted the course we go on.”

As expected, the class is silent. Y/N’s found that students are typically too nervous or intimidated to contribute to conversations during Harry’s lectures, and she’s been on the receiving end of many, many emails asking things that could have been resolved in class.

“Think about what your characters lack. What are they missing? What are they unable to receive access to? Is it a resistance to pleasure, to giving in?”

Y/N swallows harshly at that. She pretends like she doesn’t hear it, instead focusing in on typing a response to an email in her inbox. 

“And then, consider their desires. Their deepest, darkest wants. No one has to know them — in real life, no one truly knows our truest desires, anyway,” she swears her eyes squeeze closed at that, but she quickly snaps them open, “But use it as an exercise for this weekend. Don’t forget, second drafts are due on Monday. Class is dismissed.”

Y/N swear she feels a second heartbeat in her core as the lecture hall begins to trickle out with students.

. . . 

“I thought we were waiting until the semester is over.” Y/N blurts it out when she can’t focus on grading Ren Wei's draft. 

Slowly, Harry glances up from the stack of papers he’s currently grading. With confused eyebrows, he sets his pen down. 

“We are,” he says softly. 

“Then what were you talking about in class today?” She hisses lowly. She keeps her voice quiet even though the door to Harry’s office is shut closed. 

“What do you mean?”

Y/N sighs frustratedly and sits back in her seat. She avoids Harry’s confused gaze as she crosses her arms over her chest. He ignores the way it pushes her breasts up through the soft fabric of her sweater. 

“The whole lack and desire thing. You know you weren’t planning on talking about Lacan until I brought him up a few weeks ago.”

Harry’s throat bobs and she licks over her lips, quickly glancing back up to his face. She’s right — they both know she’s right, but Harry’s reluctant to admit it. He’s stubborn — he’s always been this way in relationships, and it tends to be one of his greater downfalls as a partner. Deep in the pit of his heart, he knows Y/N deserves better. She wouldn’t be worth putting his job or her status as a student in danger if she wasn’t.

“You’re right,” he finally admits as he nibbles on his bottom lip. “I’m sorry. It was out of line and I won’t do that anymore.”

She pauses for a beat. And then, “I thought maybe you changed your mind.”

His shoulders deflate and she suddenly feels embarrassed. It was a stupid thing to reveal, she decides, and she picks at the skin surrounding her fingernails as she mentally beats herself up for it. 

And for a moment, Harry contemplates it. He knows it hasn’t been that long since he told her they have to wait, but he’d be a ridiculous liar if he didn’t admit that she’s all he’s been thinking about ever since they kissed in his office. Nervously, he reaches across the length of his wooden desk and takes her hand into his. He intertwines their fingers together and gives her hand a small, reassuring squeeze, and she looks up at him through her eyelashes. It makes his heart warm.

“You know this is incredibly difficult for me, right?” he asks. Y/N shakes her head and he scoffs in response. “I can’t stop thinking about you, Y/N.”

She blushes. “I can’t stop thinking about you either.”

“Yeah?” he chuckles, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. She nods. “When we kissed, it… it was so good, y’know? It just… it felt good.”

“I know,” she breathes. She squeezes his fingers lightly before retracting her own hand and placing it in her lap. She may look naive, but she's already decided that she won't let him have the upper hand – not when it comes to something she can actually have control over, like teasing.

The movement surprises him but he chooses not to acknowledge it. “But this is what we decided on, right? It’s better this way. It’s kind of like edging, hm?” 

His eyes nearly bulge out of his skull as she glances down at her phone to look at the time. 

“Anyway, I have to head out to class. Text me if you need anything, Professor Styles.”

She waltzes out of his office with a snarky, knowing grin on her lips, and Harry has to do a series of deep breathing to stop his cock from exploding in his trousers. 

. . .

Y/N Y/L/N is a complete and utter minx. 

Harry has no choice but to come to this conclusion because in the weeks that follow their agreement, he swears she does everything she can to try and make him break. The worst part is, he doesn’t even know if she’s doing it intentionally. But every time they’re in the same room, all he can think about is hauling her over his shoulder, locking her in his office, and stretching her body over the length of his desk so he can fuck her until she can’t even think straight.

And there’s still three months left of the semester.

Admittedly, nothing ever really happens between them. Despite the apparent and blatant flirting that occurs on both sides, they keep things surprisingly professional, even behind closed doors. For the first time in his teaching career, Harry is actually ahead of grading. For some reason, he feels as though it’s a testament to how well he and Y/N actually work together.

But then there’s the matter of her teasing, which drives him up a fucking wall — the cute little mini skirts she almost always wears, the batting of her eyelashes at students in his class, followed by the wide-eyed smile she flashes Harry as soon as she knows he’s seen it. She even out-smarted him on Ursula LeGuin the other day and, as dorky as it seems, Harry doesn’t think he’s ever been so turned on in his life.

It’s a series of back-and-forth. When Y/N has to leave his office for class, he’ll thumb at her chin or her cheeks so she gets all flustered before she heads out. Later that night, she’ll text him an innocent question with some sort of “typo”:

can’t stop thinking about your lips

oops! list* not lips! your list of grades — it’s due next friday, right??

It’s a stupid, risky game that neither of them can stop playing.

Even when they’re sitting in Harry’s office that Wednesday afternoon, buried beneath piles of final drafts for the midterm paper, he can’t help but gnaw on his bottom lip as she sits across from him. She’s focused — the cute furrow between her brows is the primary tell — but every now and then she’ll bring her pen up to her mouth to bite on it or poke her tongue out to lick over her lips.

Despite the chill of the day, she’s wearing a wool mini skirt atop sheer black tights, and he hasn’t been able to stop glancing down at the soft skin of her thighs since she showed up to campus hours ago. He wants nothing more than to rip a hole in the fabric, pull her into his lap, and kiss her until she’s a whimpering, breathless mess. 

He’s so distracted that he doesn’t even notice the clock is steadily ticking towards 5 pm and, technically, Y/N should’ve left an hour ago. With wide eyes, he drops his pen on the pile of papers in front of him. 

“Shit,” he curses, “You should go. Your hours ended at 4.”

She taps her phone screen beside her, “Oh. I didn’t realize it was so late. I guess I got in the groove with grading.” 

“It happens.” He says understandingly as he leans back against his chair, stretching his achy back out some. “I’ll see you on Monday, then?”

She peers up at him through her lashes. “It’s 5 pm on a Friday, Harry. You should leave, too.”

He runs his tongue over his teeth. She’s right, especially since he’s been attempting to distract himself from his crush on Y/N by doing late grading sessions in his office. 

“Yeah, you’re right,” he mumbles as he grabs his large tote bag. “I’ll walk you out, if that’s okay.”

They both know that it’s perhaps a cross of the boundary they’ve been trying to firmly maintain, but how harmful could a walk be? 

Y/N flashes him a small smile. Silently, they each pack their things up, and she follows him out of this office as he locks his door. They walk side-by-side, Y/N nibbling on her bottom lip as Harry tries to resist the urge to grab the hand that he keeps accidentally brushing with his own knuckles. 

“Do you have any weekend plans?” She suddenly asks softly, glancing up at the taller male. 

He hums, “Nothing too exciting. Probably just gonna catch up on TV and reading. You?”

“The secret life of an English professor, hm?” Y/N teases and he chuckles. “I have to start prepping for midterms. Laundry, too. I guess nothing more fun than your plans.” 

He laughs and her stomach erupts into flutters as he holds the front door for her. She smiles in gratitude, but her steps come to a stop when she witnesses the state of the weather. 

It’s nearly a white out. A snowstorm must have barreled through while they were busy grading, because now it’s dark, flurries of snow instantly landing on Y/N’s eyelashes and jacket. 

“Y/N,” Harry appears at her side, “You’re not planning on walking through this, are you?”

“I-I don’t have a car.” She mumbles, stuffing her already freezing cold hands into her pockets. “I’ll be fine, it’s not far.”

“No, but I wouldn’t feel okay with sending you home in this,” he replies. She blinks when she feels his hand reach out to her shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. “Would you let me drive you home, please? Just so I know you get home safely.”

Her stomach turns. This would officially cross the student/teacher boundary, but he’s right — it’s frigid out, and she always hates walking home in the dark anyway. Swallowing tightly, she nods. 

“Yeah, please. I’ll take a ride.”

“Good,” he exhales with a nod, “My car’s just over in the faculty lot.” 

With the both of them slowly shuffling through the snowy ground, they eventually make it to Harry’s car. As expected, it’s covered in snow, but he turns it on and blasts the heat so she can sit inside while he uses a brush to clear it off. She picks at her fingernails as she watches him through the foggy front window, her chest continuing to grow with nerves. She knows that this is all she’s wanted for weeks — to be alone with Harry, outside of the confines of his office — so why is she so scared? 

Luckily, he gets in the car before she has more time to contemplate it. Blowing warm air into his cupped hands, he shivers dramatically. 

“Fuck, it’s cold,” he whines, making her giggle. “Something funny about that, passenger princess?” 

“No!” She exclaims with a laugh, “I’m sorry I didn’t help clear your car off. I’m sure that was awful.”

His eyes crinkle teasingly as he chuckles along with her. As he backs up out of the parking spot with ease, he presses the palm of his hand to the back of Y/N’s headrest, checking to make sure he’s clear. She wonders if he’s used to driving in the snow, but lets the question die in her throat instead of pushing the conversation. 

“Sorry, I didn’t ask where you live,” he says when he turns onto the main road. “I think you mentioned once that you’re not too far from campus?”

She nods. “Yeah, I’m on Maple. It’s a single-person house, I’ll tell you where to turn.”

“You live alone?”

She doesn’t think the question is meant to be inherently suggestive, but there’s something about his immediate response that has her teetering on feeling that way. Swallowing, she nods again.

“Mhm. Most of my friends graduated or moved away when we finished undergrad, so it’s just me.”

“No pets or anything? You seem like the type to own one of those bald cats.”

Y/N balks at his reply, a peel of laughter bubbling from her chest. “What?”

Harry’s cheeks warm as he slowly drives down the snow-covered street. He doesn’t know how to tell her that he thinks about what kind of person she is when she’s not around — he knows it probably sounds creepy, but it’s how he’s been entertaining himself in the meantime. 

“I just… feel like you’d like those things,” he treads lightly, shrugging his shoulders, “Is my assumption wrong?”

“Very much so. I’ve only had dogs,” she giggles, “Are there any other assumptions I should know about?”

His throat bobs. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” she quirks a brow. “Turn at the light.”

He flicks his right signal on, “I may have tried to figure you out a bit in my… spare time.”

He cringes, but the sound of her laughter quickly pulls him from his embarrassment. 

“Well now I have to know.”

“Fine,” he decides, finding himself drawn to her little game, “I think you prefer matcha or hot chocolate over coffee.”

“True, but that’s only because you watch me cringe every time you drink your stupid black coffee.”

Harry snorts, “Okay, fair. I think you’re a homebody.”

“Mhmm,” Y/N nods. “True. Go on.”

“You prefer chocolate to vanilla.”

“Strawberry, actually.”

He hums. “You read period piece smut for fun.”

Y/N lets out a loud cackle. “What about my personality makes you think that?”

“You just seem like the type to go to the romance section at the bookstore, but only buy dirty books that are set in the 1800s,” he replies easily, a smirk edging at his lips, “Am I wrong?”

She ignores the way her cheeks flair with warmth. “I’m not opposed to it, but it’s not the only thing I read.”

“Sure,” he laughs. She rolls her eyes before pointing to a house down at the end of the road. 

“I’m right over there.” 

Harry nods and pulls up in front of it. The snow is only worse on the residential streets, likely because there haven’t been many cars going through to clear the roads. She nibbles on her lip as she unbuckles her seatbelt and turns to look at him. 

“Thank you for the ride.” she says softly. 

“Of course.”

They stare at each other for a beat before Y/N tears her gaze away from him. She glances out through the front window, watching momentarily as snowflakes continue to beat down on the exterior of his car. 

“It’s not safe,” she mumbles breathily, facing him again. “You shouldn’t drive in this.”

He swallows. He knows what he should say: No, it’s okay. I should go home. We said we’d wait, remember?

But he doesn’t want to. Not when she’s dangling alone time, off campus, right in front of his face. He can’t resist her — he doesn’t want to resist her.

“Can I come inside, then?”

. . .

Y/N’s house is everything Harry would have expected it to be. 

She has two huge bookshelves that are overflowing with worn novels, Post-It’s and folded-down pages sticking out of nearly every page. She has plants and candles, cuddly blankets thrown askew over her couch, and a sink filled with half-consumed cups of tea. There are framed pictures and Polaroids tacked up on her fridge of people Harry assumes are her friends and family. He smiles gently as he passes by an image of her wedged between two older people who have some of her same features. It’s all very her, which means it’s all entirely too comforting.

“Do you want something to drink?” Y/N asks, nibbling on her bottom lip as she glances up at the man before her. It’s an unusual sight; one that makes her feel like she has to blink a few times to ensure she isn’t dreaming. 

“Not unless you’re willing me to make my ‘stupid black coffee’, as you affectionately referred to it in the car.”

Y/N blushes, “I don’t have any coffee here, but I can make you tea. Or hot chocolate.”

“Tea is good, sweetheart.”

The flush only deepens at the pet name. He’s not sure where it comes from — maybe easing into a relationship-type dynamic is easier than he thought, especially considering he’s been pushing it down since their kiss. He watches as she turns to face the kitchen counter, occupying herself with turning the kettle on and retrieving two tea bags and mugs. He wants nothing more than to hug her from behind, pressing his fingertips into her hips to squeeze them teasingly. To dip his head to the crook of her neck and press kisses along her delicate skin. He swallows and adjusts his trousers, willing the thickening erection tucked underneath to go away.

“How do you want it?” she asks, glancing behind her to look at him.

He coughs. “Sorry? How do I want what?”

“Your tea,” Y/N replies slowly, a small smile on her lips, “How do you want your tea, Harry?”

“Oh— um, however you take it is fine.”

She nods and busies herself with filling the mugs up with the boiling water. Once she’s finished, she slowly hands him the steaming cup. He smiles in gratitude, allowing their fingers to brush against one another in the pass-off.

“By the way,” she says lowly, blinking at him, “You’re doing a shit job of hiding your boner.” 

Her eyes crinkle in a smirk as she lifts the mug to take a sip of the warm liquid. Harry’s cheeks instantly warm and he stutters over his words, attempting to force out an apology. She lets him scramble for a moment before reaching out to curl her fingers over his wrist with a smile. 

“I’m just teasing you. I hope you know I don’t care.”

He huffs, setting his cup down on the dining room table, “Yeah, but I’m the one who told you we have to wait. And now I’m standing in your kitchen, getting hard over you making me tea.”

She giggles. “I consider that a compliment, to be honest.”

“I’m sure you do,” he grumbles, “You make me feel like a doped up, lovesick teenager.”

“Really?”

“Of course,” he scoffs, “Everything you do does something to me. Even if you don’t mean it. It’s ridiculous.”

“What do you mean?”

He sends her a knowing look and she grins. 

“You know what I mean, Y/N.”

“You know I’m not good at reading between the lines, Harry.”

He sighs. “You turn me on. Even by doing the stupidest shit— knowing more about me in certain subjects, wearing those cute little skirts… it all drives me insane. I’ve been trying to keep it together, but I can’t.”

“Then don’t,” she replies almost instantly, placing her mug on the table next to his, “I don’t want to wait, Harry. I feel… I feel so stupidly desperate for you. And I want this— I want you.”

“I know, but—”

“But in any other context, if we didn’t meet this way, there wouldn’t be an issue,” she points out stubbornly, “If we had come back to mine after a date, we’d already be upstairs with our clothes off.”

He can’t help the way his cock jumps at her words and he mentally groans. He wants to yell into one of those cute throw pillows on her couch, or maybe lay face down on the fluffy carpet in her hallway. 

“Listen, I’m sorry if I’m crossing boundaries, we can just watch TV or something—”

“Stop,” he cuts her off with a shake of his head. “Can we just… Can I just kiss you again? I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”

Y/N blinks owlishly. Surprise is clear on her face, but it doesn’t stop her from nodding her head. As corny as it sounds — and Y/N knows it’s corny — it feels like magnets being pulled together. It’s not a moment longer before Harry’s palm is pressed gently against her cheek, his lips brushing up against hers. She’s nearly salivating at the thought of closing the gap between them and yet, at the same time, her brain is melting with lust. 

This kiss, unlike their first, is riddled with want. It’s hurried and sloppy, teeth clashing and tongues dipping into each other’s mouth. Harry’s hand slips from her cheek and down to the back of her neck, giving it a small, testing squeeze. She presses her chest impossibly closer to his, eyelashes flittering at the warmth radiating from the button-down he wears. She’s desperate to feel him, to eliminate any boundaries or distances between them — for the first time, she’s sick of playing games. 

“Upstairs,” she pants out through swollen lips. He takes her bottom lip between his teeth and pulls playfully, allowing it to snap back in place, “Take me upstairs, please.”

He swallows and her eyes find his Adam’s apple, nervousness settling in her chest. He gives her neck another squeeze. 

“Are you sure?” he breathes. She leans up to wrap her arms around his neck and presses a gentle kiss to his lips. 

“If you’ll have me, I’m yours, Harry.”

“You’ve always been mine,” he mutters with his forehead against hers, “Show me the way, sweetheart.”

She grabs his hand in hers and lightly tugs him out of the kitchen. If she’s being honest, she’s fantasized of this moment for months now. She was never sure of how it would happen (the logistics never mattered in her daydreams), but having him here, standing in her bedroom, feels like some kind of joke her mind conjured up. 

But when he lays her back against the mattress, elbows digging into the soft tufts of her bedding, it feels a little like a hazy fantasy. 

When he parts her thighs and kneels down between them, pressing a smattering of kisses along her neck as his hands push the fabric of her thick sweater up, her labored breathing is the only anchor she has in reality.

And when he finds himself between her thighs, tugging her black tights down to reveal a sodden pair of underwear, a hiss sounding out from her mouth when he bares her center to the cool air of her bedroom, things begin to feel very, very serious.

“Is this okay?” he asks huskily. He’s since moved down to kneeling on the carpet of her room, his large palms parting the insides of her thighs. Every single move he makes drives her insane. 

“Yes,” she breathes, fingers gripping the blanket beneath her. 

He’s less calculated now that he’s received her consent. She instantly mewls the second he puts his mouth over her, licking through the wet fabric of her underwear. Her eyes roll back just from the muffled sensation, especially when he allows a low moan to vibrate from his chest. 

“Need more,” he mutters against the soft skin of his thigh as he pulls the material to the side. He inhales sharply at the sight of how wet she is, his fingertip gently tracing over the tip of her swollen clit. “You were hiding all this from me for months.” 

He states it as if it’s a fact — like she’d been doing it intentionally, when all she’s been doing is dreaming of the day he’d finally be the one to break. Through a shaky swallow, she parts her lips. 

“Didn’t mean it,” she murmurs, sitting up slightly to look down at him. It’s a heavenly vision — the image of the professor she’s been crushing on, on his knees for her in her bedroom. He sends a smirk her way as if he can read her thoughts (and maybe he can, she’s truly not sure anymore), and surges forward to dip his tongue through her folds, licking up the heady arousal dripping from her hole. It makes her gasp and reach down to grab his hair, a tight fistful of locks in her hand.

“Doubt it,” he says into her core. His fingertip continues tracing tight circles into her clit as he begins to flex his tongue inside of her, and Y/N’s back is arching against the expanse of her mattress from the wet, intoxicating sensations of it all. It’s nearly too overwhelming for her, especially given the sensitivity of her clit — but Harry can feel her tensing beneath his grasp, a delicious telltale sign that her peak is quickly rising. 

“Harry— oh my god—”

“I know,” he coos, replacing his tongue with two of his fingers. He presses against her g-spot and she gasps, grinding her hips down against his hands, “There you go, angel girl, cum on my fingers. That’s it, good girl.”

If his hands weren’t currently occupied, one would undoubtedly be wrapped around his length right now, twisting and pumping until he emptied himself to the sight of Y/N’s coming, pulsating pussy. It's better than any daydream he ever could have thought of — her moans are beautiful and whimpery, her body warm and pliant beneath his touch as she comes down. Sensitivity immediately takes over and she gently bats his hands away, panting out loudly from above. 

“Alright?” He asks softly, placing a light kiss to her thigh. He hears her swallow loudly. 

“Jelly,” she mumbles, “Limbs are jelly.”

That makes him chuckle as he sits back up on his knees. He hovers over the length of her body and smiles at her fucked out expression. 

“You’re pretty when you come.” He says before leaning down to peck her lips. 

“Yeah?” She asks teasingly, “Show me what you look like?”

Harry stills but she nips at his bottom lip playfully, “You didn’t cum in your pants just from eating me out, did you?” 

“Got pretty close to it.” He confesses, eyes falling shut as she continues pressing kisses to his jawline and down to his neck. 

She hums at the admittance as her hands rake down his chest, “Do you wanna fuck me?” 

“Whatever you want,” he swallows, the answer sounding far more submissive out loud than he’d intentioned, “Fine with… I’m fine with whatever.” 

“I want you to fuck me.” She says, looking up at him. “Is that okay?”

“That’s perfectly okay.” 

Y/N grins and begins to make quick work of shedding his layers of clothes. His button-down is the first to go, followed by his trousers and belt. Once he’s down to his briefs, she gently hints at wanting to climb on top. He has no reservations with that so he helps her straddle his thighs, watching as her eyes peer down at his covered length. 

“You look big.” She admits. 

He’s not sure if it’s meant to be a compliment or a nervous comment, so he silently issues a small squeeze to her hip. 

“Seriously,” she continues with a frown. “Other girls have taken you no problem?” 

This makes him laugh. “Generally, yeah.” 

“I don’t think it’s gonna fit.” 

Harry smirks. “This isn’t your way of telling me you’re a virgin, right?”

“No!” She exclaims theatrically, and that only amplifies his laughter. “I’m just… I’m nervous! You look really big Harry, seriously.” 

“Take me out then,” he instructs lowly and the tone of his voice zips straight to Y/N’s center, “I promise, you’re freaking yourself out over nothing.” 

She grumbles as he pulls his underwear down his legs. Harry kicks them off his ankles and she sighs as she takes him into her hand. He has to make an effort not to hiss at the feeling of it. 

“Still huge,” she mutters, “My hand barely fits around you, Harry.” 

“You’re making my ego insane, angel.”

She peers up at him, where his arm is tucked behind his head like he’s lounging the day away. She gives the head of his cock a small squeeze. 

“Do you really think it’ll fit?”

“Yes,” he chuckles, “If not, I’ll just go down on you for an hour and by then you’ll be open and wet enough.”

“Shut up,” she mumbles, the thought of him spending an hour of his time between her thighs almost being too much to fathom. “‘M gonna try to put you in.”

“It’ll be fine, sweetheart. Just breathe and take your time. We can do a different position—“

“No,” she quickly shakes her head. “Wanna ride you. This is how I envisioned it.”

Harry’s eyebrow quirks at that but his curiosity is quickly replaced by pleasure when she hovers her hips over his length. The warmth from her previous orgasm is radiating off of her and he breathes out sharply when she pushes the tip in, her fingertips covering the sight. Harry reaches out to move them. “Need to see,” he grunts. 

Her jaw drops open as she slowly lowers onto him. Neither of them speak — it’s all entirely too consuming; her getting filled to the brim and him being surrounded by the tightest heat he’s ever felt. When she finally sinks down to his pelvic bone, her eyelashes flutter. 

“Can you move?” He asks through a slightly clenched jaw, “Or— do you need me to—“ 

“I can do it.” She replies as she steadily attempts to move her hips up. “Oh, that’s a lot.”

“Too much?”

She shakes her head, “It’s good. Is it good?”

“It’s amazing.” He breaths out, gritting his teeth as she moves up and down. 

With his reassurance under her belt, it’s easier for her to find a bit of rhythm, even if she has to place her hands down on his chest for stability. He happily places his own palms on top of them, curling his fingers around her wrists to help her. 

“There you go,” he encourages, leaning his head back against the pillow as he watches her. “You look so beautiful, holy shit.”

She moans when she finally figures out a pace that hits that soft spot inside of her, eyelashes fluttering from the constant pressure. Harry moves his hands down to her hips to assist in the maneuvers, but mainly because he doesn’t know if he’ll ever get sick of seeing his touch on her skin. She swallows harshly when she lifts a hand to coax at her swollen clit, a wet gasp sounding from her lips. Harry’s gaze lifts from where they’re connected to see widened eyes. 

“What’s the matter? Are you okay?” He asks in immediate panic. 

She nods quickly and reaches out to grab his hand and place it over his stomach. 

He thinks he may pass out. 

Beneath the soft, dimpled skin of her stomach, he can feel his length bulging in her tummy. If he looks close enough, he can see the faint outline. It takes everything in him not to snap. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters as she resumes her pace of bouncing on his cock. 

“Told you you were— oh— big,” she says stubbornly, and if he wasn’t so overwhelmed with the current state of her body, he probably would have had a comeback. But right now, all he can focus on is not blowing his load inside her. 

“Need you to come,” he grunts. She nods eagerly like a puppy and he smirks when her fingers return to her clit, rubbing tight circles. “Need you to come so I can paint that pretty pussy, yeah?” 

“Yes,” she mewls desperately. Her movements get jerkier and sloppier, but Harry has no problem meeting her hips. He thrusts up inside of her to hopefully reach the same spot, though his worry is quickly wiped away when he feels her muscles contract, her face twisting beautifully. 

He can barely help her through her orgasm before he’s pushing her into her side. He’s no longer inside and his hand has switched to keeping her thigh up as he pumps himself, groaning at the sticky mess between them. 

“Wanna feel it,” she whimpers almost pathetically, “Please Professor Styles, cum all over my pussy.” 

That’s all he needs before he’s bursting at the seams, ropes of thick, white cum covering her. He’s a groaning mess and he doesn’t even notice that she’s running her hand through his hair, playing with it gently, until he has nothing left to give. With a final whimper, he lays back against her bed, completely spent. 

When they’ve both caught their breath, Harry turns back onto his side to face her. 

“You alright?” he asks softly. He’s nervous to reach out and thumb at her cheek or press a kiss to her hand. For some reason, he feels like the situation is too delicate right now and he’s at risk of fucking it all up.

Y/N hums, “Mhm. Are you?”

“I am.” he answers with a thick swallow. “Is it okay if I hold you?”

“Please.”

His heart jumps and he wraps an arm around her shoulders, tugging her into his chest. He leans down and kisses her hair. 

They sit in the silence for a bit, Y/N finding comfort in Harry’s constant breathing, the sound of his heartbeat. 

And then: “So you envisioned this?”

She bites at the smile on her lips before she bats at his pecs, “Shut up. I know you did too.”

The pads of Harry’s thumb carries your chin towards his fork, mouth parting slightly to accept the egg drenched in hollandaise that passes through your lips.

Immediately you hum at the flavour spreading amongst your tongue. Nodding your head in delight at his choice, you offer him an genuine smile with napkin raising to your mouth to clean any sauce leftover.

“Good, isn’t it?” Harry grins while you continue to chew before swallowing.

“That taste delicious!” You reveal, running your tongue over your bottom lip looking between the two plates.

“Better than the french toast?” He quips, brows raising in question while he goes back to eating.

“Oh baby, nothing is better than french toast.” Happily going back to your plate of syrup drenched and sugar powder meal.

It’s unusual for Harry to spend his mornings with you. He’s normally always out before you can catch him slipping away. So, when it dawned on you that he was still present in bed it had you crawl deeper into his warmth; the sun draped itself around the frame of the bed, his hands roaming down the expanse of your body with deep inhales drawing through the space.

You lied nurtured under his touch for just a few more hours until he rose up, pressing light kisses along your head before standing and making his way to the bathroom, suggesting brunch at his favourite breakfast spot.

It’s why you’re next to him with his hand on your thigh, both appreciating each others presence in the rustle of the restaurant atmosphere.

“Are you going into work this evening?” You ask, fork digging into the cut pieces and bringing it towards your mouth.

“Yes, I’ll be in the office,” His hand going towards his coffee to turn the porcelain cup on the table. “I actually wanted to discuss something with you darling.” His gaze trails to your lips chewing your breakfast.

The words made your sight narrow, tongue peeking out of your mouth to swipe along your flesh. Maple syrup floods your taste buds as you continue feeling Harry rub his hand across your jeans.

Your head knocks to the side in adoration at your charming boyfriend, view roaming amongst his suited frame. The sun that shines through the windows cause the green hues in his eyes to sparkle beautifully in the light, his chestnut hair is styled the way you always admired, running across his forehead in lose curls.

“I want to know love, how have your past relationships been?”

Your teeth clench down on each other, gaze shifting with tight limp smile spreading along your features. The question has you resting your fork down on the plate. It’s not a question that should have you perplexed, but you’ve been with him for four months now and could’ve sworn already having this discussion with him before.

“Mostly just nonchalant men who didn’t care about me.” Your hand meeting Harry’s as it smoothes over your thighs. The response causes him to chuckle softly.

“I know… but I mean sexually.” Your focus trails, warmth rising to your cheeks with fingers curling around his rings.

Now, you really don’t believe you ever had this conversation with him before. The personal question drags your mind back to memories of mediocre men barely fulfilling your needs for the majority of the useless relationship. Past intimacies can’t even compare to what Harry and you have; you’ve come more under his touch then any of your past lovers, you’re sure it’s telling with the way you’re so humble in bed.

“Well, I don’t know… it doesn’t compare to you if that helps?” Searching the restaurant until Harry drags his nails heavily across your thigh, it brings your attention back to his who surveys you.

“Use you words sweetheart.”

The intimate sight of two lovers nestle in the back of the establishment immersed with each other, holds adoration from onlookers stealing glances. It’s as if it’s only the two of you in this room, warm touches nourishing the desire to be in his hold from the admirable exchange that brews between the both of you.

“The sex was whatever honestly, it was decent. I can probably count on one hand how many ex’s actually made me come… so, I mean what I say that they don’t touch what you do to me.”

He hums acknowledging everything. Harry can tell but your fidgeting hands and darting eyes that this conversation was making you somewhat uncomfortable, even if he slides his touch smoothly across your skin encouraging the truth, your cheeks still continue to glow.

“And I must say myself, I’m very pleased with our sex life… I can’t get enough of you,” Harry agrees, nails continue to drag down your legs while you smile shyly at him. “So… it’s safe to say you haven’t done anything past your limits?”

His words cause your expression to transition back to confusion. Anything past your limits? Teeth feel over the flesh of your bottom lip as you don’t break your stare with Harry, completely unfazed with chin tilted and back relaxing against the cushions of the booth.

“I don’t know what you mean by that?” You confide with jaw tensing. The topic of conversation has completely shifted your appetite from your half eaten french toast.

Harry sight runs over your frame, examining every crevice of your face before drawing down to look at the subtle cleavage exposed from your lace drawstring top. It was moments like this when he would look at you with such hunger that makes you weak. Simple eye contact drawing thoughts of wanting to get on your knees before him.

“Besides the occasional spank and choking, what else do you like?” Cheeks now blaze impossibly red with gaze breaking from his. Your sight looks around the room as if everyone in the restaurant can hear your conversation — though there was no one seated in the two tables in front of you.

“Shouldn’t we talk about this somewhere more private?” Eyes connecting back to his forest ones.

Harry snickers while scratching your thigh. The sound send waves of relaxation as you let your free hand tuck your hair behind you ear looking pleasantly at him.

“I’m sure we’re good.” Smirk stretching on his lips as he continues to sooth you with his touch.

Regardless of the customers being so distant from the table, still it somewhat felt wrong to talk about sex in the middle of the lively restaurant. Children laughter and indistinguishable conversations float around as pinned up waitress and hostess litter the floor beaming expressions when passing guests.

Your eyes trail back to Harry, shifting your head to each side. Despite the topic being explicit for the scenery, you must admit the discussion about desires between both parties in the relationship never was mentioned. The feeling of his palm drags over your knee, smiling at you tauntingly as his gaze never wavers.

“U —Um…” Throat clearing as you let your fingers follow Harry’s motions. “I like to get spanked.. a lot.. and I guess, I want to be slapped too.” His eyes brighten with amusement, pearly white teeth shining as he rustles against the leather.

“I like…” Mouth running dry as you think over your words afraid as if Harry will look at you like some freak, though the conversation shines with mutual honesty. “Spit.”

“In general you just like spit or…” Harry breathlessly laughs as it makes you knock your head into his chest in embarrassment at his teasing.

“I mean I think it’s hot if you were to spit in my mouth sometimes?” Neck craning up as he smiles.

“That can be arranged,” Fingers drawing itself back up your frame. The alluring touch he his has over your body with eyes filled with pure lust, cause your heart to pick up being turned on by the conversation and simple affection.

“I can’t think of anything else really? I like when you call me good girl and such,” Lashes fluttering as he nods his head acknowledging your words. Harry admires your jittery expression, dancing gaze and timid hands.

“Oh! and I would also like if sometimes… I don’t know,” Fingers going back to crave the intricate imprints over the gold of his rings. “If you can come on me?”

He’s surprised you have such dirty thoughts dwelling in your mind. Spitting in your mouth and wanting to let him dress you in his seed, he never thought such things would be your naughty desires. His devious smirk spreads wider, head nodding and fist curling deeper into your skin.

“Filthy girl.” Harry winks. It sends annoyance through you as you roll your eyes and pull away from his chest, your hands reaching towards your water set on the table.

Your palms are slick with sweat wrapped around the glass. Heart beating in your ears as if a second symphony to the chatter in the air. Regardless of how many times he has seen you naked and suck the juices that expels between your legs, it made you nervous confessing to him things that turn you on during sex. You’re heart is set ablaze, teeth nibbling on the inside of your cheek trying to reel in your nerves.

Harry gently pats your thigh, his expression never wavering as he looks at you, completely infatuated in your anxious state. He leans in with lips pressing against the temple of your forehead, hum radiating warmth across your arm. The gesture relaxes your body seeking comfort in his towering frame.

“I love when you get flustered,” He confides. Your lips draw into a flat line looking up at him playfully. Fingers placing your glass down on the table before leaning back into him.

The two meals in front of you begin to grow cold as the appetite dwelling within seeks the very thing your boyfriend satisfies, and the conversation is definitely not helping that craving.

Hues of pink begin to settle amongst your skin as you turn towards Harry, persuasive connection with obvious sexual tension beckoning between eyes. Your expression soon resembles the same smile spread on his lips.

“Since this topic of conversation seems to be more important than your endeavours… what do you enjoy in bed?”

Harry shifts next to your frame, tongue peeking out of his mouth with sight still hungry as if he wants to devour you in this restaurant. His hand leaves your thigh, draping up your waist and running along your neck.

“I enjoy feeling you wrapped around me,” Fingers roam along your skin to hold your jaw softly.

“And the way you look so helpless below,” Confession causing your legs to squeeze together, trying to relieve the pulsing between your legs.

“But, I want to purpose something…”

The energy that connects your hearts is an invisible string twine together with love and passion. It was clear what was on both your minds, and the hand that holds your chin keeps that symmetry of eye connection.

“How do you feel if there was more of a power balance in the bedroom?”

You swear arousal flashes over Harry’s eyes. Grin straightens as the grip over you tenses awaiting your answer, just when the subtle blossoms of pink leave, it returns amongst your cheeks bones.

“There isn’t one already?” Threaded brow lifting on your forehead with teasing tone.

“Yes… but let’s just say things can be more exciting.” He proposes with grace, charming appearance and beautiful melodic voice rattling your heart strings.

A pleasant hum leaves your lips as you lean even deeper into his presence. Frankly, you didn’t even care what Harry was talking about, the way he was looking made you want to spread yourself all over the booth.

“How would you feel if I were to tie you up?” Both eyebrows rise in shock, those being his next words wasn’t what you were expecting.

Thoughts of him having his way with you, but being wrapped up as if his own personal gift makes the slick passing through your folds begin to soak the material of your panties.

“I wouldn’t mind that.” Agreeing to his desire with your eyes sparkling up at him.

“And if I were to handcuff you and use a paddle?” Confession having your chest raising with quick breaths. The desires he admits has your mind return back to the film you’ve seen years ago.

“Still not opposed.” You return, sight still admiring his captivating energy.

Harry lets his expression shine smugly. He’s relaxed and attentive, examining every detail that attracts him and has his body enjoy your now relax demeanour. His tongue swipes along his bottom lip, trousers growing tighter watching every heavy draw from your chest knowing that you want his touch between your legs.

“Channeling your inner Christian Grey?” Body gently rocks into him, his smile never deters and eyes still pierce with intensity. The grip he has over your jaw loosens as he swipes his hand along your cheek, gently tapping the skin there.

“Yes, I want to ruin you.”

It’s your turn for your eyes to flash with an usual desire. Hands now finding their place curling around the denim of your jeans.

“I’d like to degrade you. How does that sound?” Harry is still calm, the words that leave his mouth not fazing him the way it does you.

You’re use to stern fingers cutting off air flow or faint imprints of digits across your cheeks; but you were never once revealed to paddles or handcuffs, now with thoughts of being degraded, you don’t know what to think but fall into his luring behaviour.

“Degrade me how?” His hand draw away from your skin and find their previous place. Curls brushing along the side of your face with his breath warm against your ear. The gesture has you swallowing, eyes looking around the establishment still rustling with customers.

“All of the things you like… just more rough.” You nod your head slowly, understanding his words. “Just think of you belonging to me, in every sense.”

Harry pulls away from your neck, smile now genuine and reassuring as he pats your thigh. If he prompts that your desires are similar but, to a different degree, it relieves the nerves tickling down your spine. Nervous smile stretches on your lips as you bow your head once more.

“Okay?” He whispers, eyes searching your features that transforms into relaxation.

“Okay.” Blinking up and curling your fingers back over him. “I trust you.”

The soft crinkle of pillows comfort your knees in the position you’re set in. The warmth of the chandelier above illuminates the room, shining over the paintings adoring the walls and the television set reduce to background noise.

Lashes flutter along the hollows of your eyes when the crimson rope drapes around your waist. The shallow roughness of the harness sinks tightly across your skin as you shift around on the floor.

Though the room is set in gentle tones of expensive diamonds reflecting off the light, it doesn’t stop the shiver that courses through. Goosebumps rise across your skin with perky nipples adding to the sensation settling.

“How is it? Too tight?” Harry questions, fingers running the material around your wrist as you shake your head lightly.

“It’s okay.” Nails nestling between your palms as you feel him beginning to knot the rope together.

A heavy breath draws from behind you, pads of his finger tips run up your spine. It follows every dip that leads all along your neck, touch smoothing over your shoulder as the sound of his shoes shuffle amongst the floor is being heard, while your sight continues to stare ahead. Heart grows with anticipation and knees seeping into the sheets against the floor as you swallow timidly.

“What’s your colour?”

Sight catches on Harry’s tailored trousers that walk amongst your view. Tongue gliding over your bottom lip at the growing erection displaying itself. Your view flicks up towards him, connection shimmering with submission and dominance as he stands in front of you with hunger in his gaze.

“Green.” Surveying eyes focus on his hand running up your neck and holding your jaw aggressively.

“Green, what?”

“Green, sir.”

The ends of Harry lips twitch upwards, grip shaking your head playfully at your response. Your nerves course through in tingles of arousal, hips swivelling into the pillows to subside the pulsing between your legs.

His waist leans towards your mouth which doesn’t shake your gaze as you let your lips part and run over his clothed erection. Seductive moan trailing from your throat as you trace the girth of him. His free hand finds his way playing with the hair by your neck, teeth tucking away his bottom lip as he studies your submissive appearance and appreciates your eager eyes.

“Gonna be my good little toy?” Harry ask, eyes catching on the way you bite at the cloth of his slacks.

“Yes, Mr. Styles.”

Fingers venture along your scalp to bury your face deeper into his crotch, your gaze still admires the man dominating you. With your back bending into his posture, your hands run along each other dying to feel him under your touch.

Strings of red robe dance across your body binding any movements from your upper half. It’s dreadful temptation not being able to roam amongst his skin like the many times you’re use to. It has your neck craning up in desire wanting nothing more than to pleasure every part of him that aches for you.

Grip pulls your hair back, free hand leaving your jaw to relieve himself of his suit. Your gaze enlarges watching him tug himself off in your view, fist curling around his thickness observing your restrained body. Voluminous breasts sit softly in the air with fidgeting muscles that flex with arousal brewing between your legs.

“Open wide.” Harry demands, head craning down as he watches your lips part.

Your tongue glides out of your mouth as he stares over you darkly, eyes examining over your red flesh exposed and bare. View of your entrance eyes look up at him in praise, cherry slick muscle set out in front of him as he leans forward, spit trailing from between his lips.

It lands as a long raindrop of his fluid to spread amongst your tongue messily, while holding your jaw wide. Harry straightens up, cock in hand tapping himself over your tongue. Heavy pulsing dick spreading himself along you before he’s drawing his hips back leaving a trail of himself to connect to your glistening muscle.

“Suck it.” He commands. You nod your head swiftly, leaning forward and feeling the weight of him fill your mouth.

Knees push deeper into the comforting blankets, mouth swallowing his length as your fingers knot together with nails digging in between the cracks of your knuckles in frustration.

Lips roam up the expanse of him, chest swallowing rush breaths as you peer up at him through heavy coated lashes. His hands nestle into your hair feeling over every strand and scratching your scalp. It urges you to lean forward to accept him deeper past your limits.

The room swirls with heated emotions of power and obedience; Harry examining your plush lips sucking him down as his hips push into your frame, palms holding your head with force as he watches your eyes flutter at the control being the centre of your attention.

His cock expands down your throat with added wetness, his hardness dragging down the expanse with his heavy thickness swelling glands as his position halts. Your eyes twinkle up at him, tears brimming the edges feeling your chest begin to burn from the withdrawal of air.

Harry holds you there for a few more seconds until his fingers are releasing from your hair, his hands going to his dress shirt and beginning to undo the buttons as you draw away from him. Lips floating across his length, dancing love across the angry veins protruding along the underside of him.

Pleasant moans leave your mouth as you go back to enveloping him down your throat, gaze never breaking the connection that holds eager devotion from both parties. Every possession in the room bares witness to the desire dwelling in the middle of it, sweat shining lightly over skin with bruise lips trailing saliva over every crevice looking for affection.

Your throat contracts around his cock, hips pausing to nourish in the quiver of you choking around him before pulling away. A heavy draw of air leaves as your eyes watch Harry peel his dress shirt off and let it drape along the floor. Beautiful ink trails amongst his skin; from his love handles to his chest, black streaks add to the arousal that has your hips runting deeper into the pillows.

“Good girl.” Harry compliments, hands going back to your messy head to tug you back, his body looming over your teary eyes.

“So needy, so perfect.” He utters. Bound hands nearly swipe against the sheets the way your spine bends to peer up at him. “Speak baby, what do you want.”

Deep inhale draws out as you blink up at him, tongue poking out to run over your bottom lip and catch it in between your teeth.

“Your fingers sir.” Lashes batting up at him in adoration as his hold relaxes in your locks before trailing out of your hair.

Harry gaze lingers when drawing away from your sight, footsteps walking around your frame and standing behind your back. The presence of him made you swallow heavily, nails leaving creases into your skin at the anticipation of the moment.

His fingers make their teasing venture back along your shoulder, digits running over very bone that protrudes down your neck to your spine, it feels over your knotted hands. The warmth of his breath blows behind your ear sending shivers through you, teeth clenching amongst each other with nerves. It’s the dreadful dance of Harry teasing that makes your heart change in paste, mind dancing with wonder and emotions singing with impatience.

His hold over your tied wrists rocks your nestle hands back forth, shallow breath still bellowing behind you with the heated presence of him radiating along your back. His gestures are too calm and patient from the previous actions that transpired, and with every draw that breezes past your ears and flattens along your neck, it has you tensing with each blow.

It’s like seconds pass by in hours, the tempting game of stressing you out is Harry favourite and it obviously shows. Tongue pokes out of your mouth biting into your bruised lips as you try your hardest to not crack, wanting to ask him to stop and touch you just where you want him the most.

Both of his hands glide up the rope and slide amongst your waist, fingers gently urging you to lean forward as he helps you maneuver your position against ruffling sheets. Your face lies gently amongst soft material, backside set in the air as his hands expand over the flesh and grope them. The lack of attention to your expose pussy set high in the air causes you to whimper into the pillows.

“You’re shining baby,” Harry observes, thumb brushing along your arching folds as he pushes your cheeks together. It encourages another blissful moan to escape your lips.

“Please sir,” Eyes squeezing due to the torment making your clit throb with need.

“Please what?” The gruff voice has you whining high in your throat.

“Please Mr. Styles, your fingers.”

Nails release from your skin and rest in the crook of your palms, it was taking everything in you to be subservient and not let your body back into his touch. It was evident in the way your thighs twitch that you’re fighting the urge of his teasing ways.

“Like this?” Harry palms drag down your plump cheeks to let his digits slither between your folds.

Index and ring finger rubbing gracefully along your lips making your eyes flutter open in satisfaction. You surrender completely to his control movements as your arms tense amongst the robes holding you together.

“Yes, sir.” Breathy moan swimming past your lips as your chest sinks deeper into the sheets.

His fingers continue to drag along your pussy, spreading your creamy fluid amongst yourself. His sight is in complete awe of your holes ready and set on display. Plump and glistening with swollen clit shuddering with each draw along the bud.

“Mr. Styles,” You moan. The call of his dominate name greets a furious slap to strike against your cheeks.

“Good toy.” Harry praises, his thumb rubbing against your entrance that has you whining once more.

“F —Fuck,” Shoulders pushing back as your knees quiver against the plush sheets. His fingers are practically coated in your fluid with the way he’s playing in your pussy, feeling every fat flesh of skin glistening in all its moisture.

Harry is captivated with your features and how they display every nerve that he strums within his hold, he’s absolutely smitten by every quiver that trickle downs the expanse of your thighs just dying for more pleasure, and with the way your spine curves into the fortress of pillows and sheets having your body bound to red rope, it has him falling in love with you.

Breasts flush in passionate colour, erect nipples gliding amongst the material of the sheets as your mouth parts open expelling sounds of pleasure. It causes Harry cock to twitch, the sight in front of him is one he truly admires, it’s why he lets his digits trail from your clit and thrust into you.

Relieving sigh trails out of your chest, fingers nestling deep between your folds to the point you feel his knuckles press deeply against your lips. “So pretty love.”

Fingers draw out to trail back in smoothly, pads of digits curling and capturing every greedy nerve that begs for more attention. It’s an agonizing torment of Harry’s weighty fingers diving into your pussy. Your chest bubbles in excitement and thighs shake with irritation.

Each stroke of him is rough thrusts into your pussy with slow movements that have your toes curling into each other. The motions have you drunk off the luring fingers, mind beginning to grow aggravated at your restraining hands that want nothing more than to card them through his curls.

“Mouth Mr. Styles, your mouth, p —please,” Voice stutters with eagerness, you want nothing more than this pleasure to swallow you whole.

“Anything for you princess.” Harry’s provoking motions never halt as he dips his head between your thighs. Tongue running up your folds to nestle itself along your second hole.

The placement of his wet muscle swirling between your two entrances with finger still drawing dramatic thrusts into your pussy has your spine curving into the pillows, backside straightening up but not to the point that it doesn’t stop Harry from following your movements. Deep groan vibrates amongst your pussy that your eyes roll to the back your head.

With his face buried between your legs you find your nails catching at the ends of his hair, fingers craving for attention as you cry into the sheets from the suppressed hold.

“Sir,” You mumble into the linen, high pitch inhale of breath as your thighs widen and feet thump at Harry flicking his tongue along your asshole. “C —Can I come, p —please sir.”

The call of him has his eyes catching on your trembling fingers craning to hold onto his hair, it doesn’t make him hesitate to let his free hand that spreads along your cheek to slide into your hold. His eyes bow in pleasure as your head twist and body retreats against his.

“Yes baby, be my good girl.”

Needy hands and stuttering voice announce your climax shining through. From the twisting tongue to precise control thrusts into your pussy, you’re brainwashed with the sensations Harry delivers. It’s stings with fury down your spine, clenching toes and shaky fingers indicating the beautiful embrace overcoming you.

Tickling nerves and jolts of thrill comb through your body, it twitches away from the draws of his movements. Quivering thighs that shake in arousal as he continues to slurp up your nectar, tongue lying flat and running between both holes. Your mouth hangs open in complete awe of how he made you come undone all over his tongue.

“That’s my good toy,” Deep voice radiating between your folds as you feel wet kisses along your strained thighs.

Your eyes are glazed over in arousal, the feelings coursing through was numb relief of the tantalizing adventure Harry decided to take you on, one that you’re very happy about it.

“So wet and ready for me.” Harry adds, his finger lazily dragging between your walls as you hear him moving behind you.

The hard press of his cock slides between the very holes that his tongue has laid across, it has you an moaning mess. Everything he was doing to you is foreign, from the red rope dressing your skin to the wet muscle trailing along sensitive parts, it’s a new stimulating sensation that you now crave and want more of.

So, when Harry lets his hips meet your back side in shallow thrusts as he rubs himself between your drenched holes, you let your fingers curl around his free one and tug gently at his hands.

“Please sir, I want you so bad.” Head twisting in irritation not being able to see Harry the way you want.

“Mhm… how bad do you want me?” Unoccupied hand smoothing over your cheeks before setting a fierce slap amongst the flesh.

“Really bad,” You whine, foot hitting against the floor in irritation as your shoulders stretch against the harness. “I need you Mr. Styles.” Teeth escaping your mouth to bite into the pillow with frustration.

“More.” Harry demands, palm landing another smack against your skin. It has you whimpering against the material of the sheets.

“I want you to fill me up. I want you to make a mess of me. Use me all you want.” His fingers twist amongst yours as he continues to rub himself between your holes.

“Mr. Styles, please, please, just fuck me,” You’re begging as if he holds the answer to all your prayers, the tormenting pleasure of his dominance blanketing your self respect as you fall victim to his power. “Want you to ruin me, please sir.”

As those words trail out of your lips it made him break between your folds. Thick heaviness of him thrusting between your wet lips as he sinks himself into your pussy. Heart ignites with passionate fury burning bright as he spreads you wide just the way you like. He’s thundering down your walls in drawing movements that have your pussy loving the aggressive stretch of him down your folds.

“Oh my god,” You mumble, arms going slack as his hips jerk your body against the mountains of pillows.

Harry grunts behind you, another harsh slap welcoming itself amongst your blossoming cheeks as he strokes himself deeply into your heat. Previous mess of fluid sliding down your inner thighs and adding comfort to his greedy thrusts. Every draw back from his hips is met with the furious rock of his dick into your throbbing pussy.

Your lashes flutter in your bobbing gaze ahead; the legs of your shared dresser sits in your version, polish floor and painted grey walls encase your view as Harry punctures his furious strokes into you. The drown out noise of the show partaking in the background adds to the combination of slick lacing together in the space of your rush breaths, while Harry continues to pound away.

His hand trails amongst your bruised ass cheeks before venturing up your back once more. Chest leaning down as his grip glides towards the top of your neck and shoves your face against the pillows. The action surprises you as a wave of arousal sends another rush of creaminess to expel between your folds.

With each angry strike of his hips it has your face digging into the white sheets leaving your vision a blurry mess of brown floorboards and white blankets. The rough assaults of his cock in your pussy is pleasuring every part that craves everything Harry has to offer. Your body completely submits and devours every motion that he sends through your veins, you’re only fuelled by him and all does.

“Holy shit baby,” Harry comments, hand shoving your face deeper into the cushions as you moan in pleasure. “My good little fuck toy, so nice and wet for me.” He boosts as he never stops his intense thrusts.

“Yes sir, always good for you,” Moaning loudly as you welcome the bouncing of his hips against your backside.

His fingers rock into the creases of your palm, grip over your neck tensing with each jerk of your head that moves with every rough stride of Harry behind you. It’s in the roughness of his love that pins and needles spark up the underside of your feet, ears ringing and tears beginning to gloss over your vision at your second climax barreling down.

“S —Sir… p —please… Mr. Styles can I come,” Quivering voice matching your fluttering eyes as you clench your stomach trying to contain your roaring nerves.

“Yes, be my good toy,” Harry reassures, with hand gliding up your head and grasping your locks into his hold to lift your gaze as he continues to fuck you.

Almond nails dig into the skin of his knuckles as your body jerks around in his hold, even with surging muscles it don’t stop him from continuing to relentlessly fuck you with scalp burning on fire from the tugging grip.

Your heart is a fuzzy mess of nerves and emotions, pulsing veins trying to regulate every crevice that beats in pleasure from waves of arousal that course through. This feeling is addictive, because even with your hips drawing away from the sensitivity coursing through your pussy, you’re loving his cock still bruising your tired walls.

“What’s your colour?” Harry asks in your daze, rush thrusts finding a rhythmic paste that leaves you whimpering under his stirring hips.

Deep breath draws from your lips as Harry relaxes his hold in your hair, his fingers trailing out of your locks and roaming amongst your waist as he lets you settle your back along his chest continuing his motions.

“Y —Yellow, sir.” Head shifting to the side to catch his glistening body.

The feeling of his lips press against your head, fingers that were once interlocked with yours part as he begins to undo the knot of the rope. The rough cloth drags along your skin as it begins to unravel. Red harness descending down your frame leaving lines of its texture wrapped around your body.

Relieving sigh floats out of your mouth as your hands free themselves from their tight hold and rest along your lower back. The sensation of wet pecks roam up the expanse of your shoulder as Harry continues to tug the garment off of your body.

“Such a good girl for me.” Harry says between kisses as your fingers feel over his naked thighs.

The burning of the rope that halted all of your movements scorches across your body in its previous hold. It adds to the painful pleasure of the restrain that seems to be your favourite part of this play session.

“Lay down for me love,” He beckons, hands curling around your waist to turn your position around and have you lying on the fort.

Your legs part comfortably around his frame while his lips press kisses to every red streak imprint gracing your skin. The gesture has your hands trailing into his hair and feeling every motion of his head making his way up your body.

Even if Harry just shoved your head into the floor and made you feel like his personal fuck toy, you wouldn’t think in moments like this were he peppers your body with love that he did such a thing. It adds to the infatuation that brews within you because of him. Harry is charming yet so devious with his persuading movements, it has you ready for anything he proposes.

His cock nestle itself between your lips, chest parallel with each other as he bites at your flesh. Harry lets his love swell with every dig into your skin that bruises easily against his actions. Fingers curving into your skin to leave indents from his strength over you. The fact he’s still starving for more has your thighs enclosing around his hips.

Your pussy is undeniably sore and body limp that draws heavy breaths in from the second climax still leaving its footprints. The attention that brushes deeper between your folds reminds you of belonging to him in every sense, being his doll that he can play with and use over and over again. It has the whine that escapes your throat desperate to be everything for him, just the way he wants; his perfect doll.

“I love being your toy,” Whispering into the heated atmosphere with hands drawing down his hair and cradling the nape of his neck. Harry hums against your skin, left hand trailing up your sides and holding his favourite place.

“Open wide.” It makes your jaw flex with tongue sticking out once again on display for him. His other hand dips between your legs, dragging over his dick glistening in your slick before patting it along your puffy lips.

Silky drop of saliva paints your red flesh, messy mascara streaking over your temples with teary eyes still so needy to please. It’s why when the fluid coats your tongue does his cock push in with all his length. Long hum drowning your rushed breath as your head knocks deeper into the pillows, nails dragging down his skin from your sore walls stretching around him.

His grip over your chin pushes your mouth close allowing you to swallow his spit, long muted taste of whisky and your juices sliding down your throat as he pounds into your pussy that quivers with each thrust. Every word trailing out of your mouth is hiccups of swears and begging. Tired pussy accepting every assault that drives into the sweet spot that graces your cervix.

“You’re so beautiful taking my cock like that darling, so pretty letting me use your pussy.” Forest eyes catching your soft ones with bitten lips that drown in overstimulation. “Be my good girl and hold up your legs for me.” Hand draping up your stomach and fitting itself next to your head.

Foggy gaze nods as you find the strength in your stinging arms to peel your hands under your thighs and lift them towards your chest. The change in position has his thrust piercing your pussy in rough strikes. Pitiful cry leaving your lips at Harry bruising your folds with every pound of his hips.

Soft blankets and rugged texture of rope willow in the empty spaces of the mountains of sheets complied over the floor. Every greedy drive of his hips ruffles covers and soak up the sweaty bodies gracing the spread. The emotions swirling in the room is an addicting aura of discipline as your head jerks with every thrust as you look up at him as if a beautiful statue.

“Sir,” Lashes fluttering as your stomach begins to clench; teeth bite into fatty flesh with nails grasping at clammy skin. Your third climax rakes through your nerves at each thrust pounding away at your pussy.

“What is it pretty girl, you’re gonna come?” Eyes flashing in amusement at your docile features roaming all over your face.

Your head bows timidly, whimper escaping your throat as the bubbling ache between your legs surges with sparks as your toes curl in on each other.

“P —Please,” Jaw tensing as tears willow in the creases of your eyes. Harry looks over your slacked expression, pink tinge and raising chest, it makes him smirk at your submission just so accepting of everything he wants.

“Please can I come.” Cry slipping through your lips as your nails drag down your thighs in scratches. Lonesome tears trail down your temples from the sensations consuming you.

“So needy aren’t you?” Tempting voice with luring gaze making your legs shudder in your hold.

You’re back to nodding your head and accepting every powerful thrust into your sore pussy. Your walls tense with irritation at his cock fucking you so brutally, even trying to control yourself from coming all over his cock makes your mouth run dry.

Lungs flex with impatience as your back curves in on itself, hair digging into the clouds of pillows and sheets as your eyes screw shut, waist quivering away from his tormenting hips as more tears fall over your cheeks.

“Yes toy, come all over me.”

The only words you’ve been wanting to hear has your chest surge with ease as your thighs twitch. Long drawn out moan singing from your throat as your fingers contract around your skin. There’s an electric vibration coursing through your brain leaving it all drowsy and numb, your stomach trembles from the torment that keeps on barreling through as dewy slick coats your bruising folds.

“S —Sir,” Hesitant voice meeting with your eyes opening and revealing Harry’s enamoured expression.

His hips pace themselves, spine relaxing against drench sheets as mouth parts with sweet symphonies slipping out. His stare never leaves your body that twist and pulse around him. Beautiful sight of your submissive self drowning in the pleasure that Harry introduces, it’s shaky breasts and twitching hips.

Bruised flesh litters amongst the soft skin that his lips once press loving kisses into, it swirls in the moisture that aims to cool down your body in the intense atmosphere of the situation.

Rough thrusts now drag along your folds in easy strides as his head slides from between your lips before thrusting back in leisurely. There’s a faint whimper that leaves your mouth as your fingers relax against your limp thighs.

“So perfect for me.” Harry sighs, the warmth of his cock leaving your folds has you crying at the loss.

Your eyes watch in pleasure the way his hand wraps around his cock, stroking himself twice in his palm before he’s painting his come all along your stomach. Generous squirts of his creamy seed dripping across your belly button with small splatters of it roaming amongst your rib cage.

The heat of his fluid stings against your feverish skin as the ruffle of sheets curl around your head. Harry necks cranes down and lets his lips slip along yours, the feeling of him gracing your skin makes you moan at the exchange, realization of his mouth finally meeting yours in the sweet escapade.

Rush breaths now relax with exhaustion, timid fingers releasing your hold over your thighs as your feet fall amongst Harry calves. Your fingers card through his curls accepting his tongue passing through your lips, and loving every moment of him swirling against your buds.

A gentle smile took her features as she shrugged down at him. Harry only shook his head before he laid all of his attention out on her body, dotting kisses down the curves of her form as he moved her skirt to catch on her ankles. Helping her discard the garment, he flung it to join the pile already on the floor consisting of both of their shirts and her cardigan. He didn't waste a moment before settling his eyes on her near-bare form. 

Down to only her bra and underwear, she was a vision in his bedsheets. Her chest was nearly spilling out of her bra from the amount of times he had pushed the cups out of the way to kiss at the swells and leave his mark. Though, what had his attention captured and unwilling to let go, was the sight of her soft thighs spread apart and the pair of pearly, satin panties tucked between—completely mismatched to the rose toned cotton bra she had on. From where he was sitting, he could see a small wet spot decorating the underside, giving away just how eager she was to have him. 

His cock bloated in his pants, urging him forward with a near-drooling mouth. He'd never had his mouth between her thighs before, always a little too giddy to have his cock inside instead. Today could be the perfect day to take his time with her, get to know more of her body and what else he could do to make her float away for him. 

"So pretty, sweetheart," he murmured to her, fitting his hands on the soft curve of her waist, "Prettiest I've ever seen." 

He didn't have to look at her to know that she was biting back a smile, gazing at him with a pair of heart eyes that he never grew tired of. He focused on planting his lips to the soft of her stomach, just under the line of her bra before working his way down. His fingertips grazed the thin sides of her panties, attempting to work them down her spread thighs as he kissed down her body. 

It was when he started pulling down her underwear, hitting a bit of a lag with how drenched her center was that her panties clung to her form, that had Harry's breath catching. He couldn't wait to get his mouth on her.

Before he could get very far, only kissing down to her bellybutton, (Y/N) moved her hands from where they were on his shoulders to land on his cheeks. Her fingertips dipped into the curls on the sides of his head, her grip gentle as she directed him upwards. 

"Just want you," she told him, curling her body in order to meet him halfway and press her lips to his in a distracting kiss.

While he was a bit disappointed to have been pulled off track, he wasn't going to argue with her if this was one of her boundaries for the night. Instead of resuming his trek down her form, he settled on parting his lips just so and allowing her tongue to tangle with his. 

"Y'have me, pretty girl," he murmured into her mouth, helping pull her panties down before fitting his hips between her thighs. 

His disappointment didn't last very long, not when she could feel that wetness he had been craving now pressed against the ridge of his cock. He'd taste her another night.

—————

Throwing his head back, Harry felt a dreamy smile land on his lips as he breathed out a sigh. With his eyes shuttered, he sunk further into the couch cushions with his legs spread and his pretty girl on her knees before him. His hand in her hair tightened, clumsily ensuring no stray hairs impeded her vision. 

"God, sweetheart, gonna make me cum so hard," he groaned, forcing himself to peel his eyes open to get a look at her. 

With her hair pulled back, Harry could see every plane of her face, every shift of her features, and flutter of her lashes. There was a shine to her eyes that always appeared whenever she dropped to her knees for him, glimmering every time she looked up at him through the fan of her lashes. Her skin was warm, cheeks and chin slicked with her own salvia and his pearly precum. Her glossy lips were snug around his cock, only the barest remains of her glitter lipgloss having survived him pushing into her mouth. 

He couldn't help to moan at the sight of her, practically melting into the cushions. Widening the spread of his legs, he pushed her head down that much more with his grip on her hair. Just the very tip of her nose grazed the thatch of hair at his base. She gagged the smallest bit around him, throat contracting while tears collecting in her eyes like stars. Instinctively, Harry went to pull back, allow her space to breathe, but she stayed just where she was with her hands stationed on his thighs, nails digging into the plush skin. She paced her breathing and leveled herself out before she looked at him with her watery gaze. 

"So good, sweetheart, so good" he praised breathlessly, scratching his fingers at her scalp in a soothing run, "Doing so good for me. Y'like doing this for me?" 

With his mouth dropped in a gape and his breath coming out in puffs, Harry could only watch as she pulled off of him. His cock bobbed in her face, slick with her spit, a string of salvia connecting his tip to the pillow of her bottom lip. Her mouth was swollen as she looked up at him, her hands squeezing the flesh of his thighs as she shuffled forward—as if she couldn't be close enough then.

"I love it," she breathed, voice crackling, "I love making you feel good, H." 

Canting his head, the beginnings of a smile touched at his features. His hands in her hair were gentle as he directed her forward just enough to press her swollen lips to his cock. "I know, pretty. Y'always make me feel so good, y'don't even know." 

(Y/N) had the nerve to look up at him bashfully through the frame of her lashes as she puckered her lips against the head of his cock, kissing at him just like he taught. It was like watching his own personal performance the way she gave everything to him in order to make him happy. His own little movie star, he thought with a tense in his abdomen.

He watched as she dragged her tongue along the underside of his length, taking a moment to tongue at his balls like she knew he liked. She took him into her mouth as deep as she could all while he watched as her raptured audience. 

Seeing her face slick with his arousal and blissed out, there was a part of him that wanted to pull her from his cock and to fit his head between her own thighs instead. He hadn't been able to get the thought of going down on her out of his mind since he fantasized over that wet spot on her panties days ago. He wanted to be the one with a swollen pout and slick on his cheeks; he wanted to give everything he could to her, wrap his lips around her clit and dig his tongue inside her. The thought had his cock flexing in her mouth, a blurt of more precum seeping out. 

Maybe he could have both, he thought—he could have her on his face while she sucked his cock at the same time. His hands tightened in her hair at the thought, a moan of her name fell from his lips. He felt breathless when he tried to tell her as much, that he wanted to try something with her before he came. 

(Y/N) seemed to be spurred on by his actions, doing that much more to make him cum down her throat. Before he could warn her, heed her to stop now before he would be too spent to do anything special for her, she readied herself with her nails digging into his thighs, taking him further. He could feel the slide of her tongue over his shaft, the closing of her throat around his tip. Where she couldn't reach, her slick hands came to take care of him. 

"Sweetheart—shit—I—" he choked out, his eyes fluttering to a close despite how badly he wanted to watch her. His hand in her hair could do nothing more than tighten among the strands, every bit of his energy and attention being too spent on the coiling in his stomach.

It didn't take much for him to succumb to the pleasure she was giving, his balls drawing tight to his cock just before he felt the first spray of his cum down her throat. She gagged around him, the tight muscles drawing that much more of a reaction out of him. A melody of moans fell from his mouth, mixing with (Y/N)'s own rumbling ones he felt more than he heard. His thighs tensed on either side of her, his cum mixing with the slick saliva of her mouth. 

He wasn't sure how long he sat there with his breath robbed from his lungs, flooding her mouth. By the time he had more on his mind other than how good the warmth of her mouth felt or how deeply he swore he was feeling his release, (Y/N) was doing nothing more than delicately sucking on the head of his cock, licking over his slit. 

With his eyes refocusing in the present, he could see the white remains of his cum on her tongue. The sight had his cock jumping in her hand. The reaction had a small smile decorating her face before she drew away completely, looking up at him with pride despite her disheveled appearance. 

"That was a lot," she quipped, her voice a bit stilted as she dropped her cheek to lay against the cuff of his knee. 

A plume of laughter fell from his lips as he shook his head at her. Raking his fingers through her hair, he rolled his lips between his teeth, still thinking about the fantasy that pushed him so direly over the edge despite knowing he didn't have the energy to execute it anymore (that was thirty-five for you). 

"It was, yeah," he smiled at her, curling down towards her until he was capturing her lips in a tender kiss. "Jus' for you." 

"Thank you," she peeped, drawing another peal of laughter from him. 

"C'mere, pretty girl," he beckoned, drawing away just to welcome her onto his lap.

Careful of his softening cock, she settled on his lap with her thighs astride his hips. (Y/N) wrapped her arms around his neck, melting into him with her eyes fluttering closed. 

"Thank you, sweetheart," he murmured into her hair, dropping a kiss to the crown. 

He could feel the smile blooming on her cheeks at his appreciation. "That's just as much for me as it is for you, honestly," she told him, amusement tinting her tone.

Though he was sure she was trying to get him to laugh with her, the implication had him rolling his neck until his head was thrown back against the back of the couch. His eyes shuttered as he recalled the unfulfilled vision of her sitting on his face with his mouth between her thighs. The idea made his cock ache.

God, he needed to eat her out—and soon.

—————

Harry couldn't tear his eyes off of (Y/N)'s body and the way the shimmering fabric of her dress clung to her form. The short hem fluttered around her thighs, shifting just enough as she stepped through her apartment to show off an extra inch of her skin for him to feast his eyes upon. His cock grew thick in his trousers, the fabric tightening as he attempted to keep his focus on the night's plans instead of making new ones. 

"I'm almost ready. I just need to do a couple more things," she prattled as she passed him by, feet still bare with only a single earring in and her hair half done. 

"Take your time," he told her, barely registering his own words as he swore he could spy the line of her panties through the fabric of her dress. He knitted his fingers together in his lap, a tactic used in hopes of keeping them to himself. 

It wasn't until she passed by his spot on the couch another pair of times, looking a touch more put together with her tiny dress fluttering around her body, that he lost his fight. She had her shoes of choice in hand when she padded by him, saying something about needing a couple of more minutes when he reached out and hooked his arm around her middle. She was stopped in her tracks, looking at him with wide eyes. 

"I'm almost done, I just n—"

"I know, I know," he told her, brushing her off in favor of dropping his hands to the soft give her thighs. "Just let me look at you a little. You've been running around, barely letting me see you before you're gone again—it's not fair." 

Sliding his hands up the hem of her dress, he could feel the goosebumps that pebbled over her skin. The length of his fingers hit the waist of her panties, digits hooking into the line.

Pushing her hand through his hair, she canted her head. "We're already running late, H. I think Tawny's gonna be mad." 

Harry shook his head, dropping a kiss to her plush thigh, his nose skimming the end of her dress. "She'll be fine. Jus' tell her I got sick and I can take care of you instead." 

Peering up at her, he waited for her permission before he would take down her panties and push her dress up. She was rolling her lips between her teeth, her hand in his hair pulsing. 

"We did that a couple of weeks ago, though," she murmured, an apology already swimming in her eyes. 

Shrugging, Harry flexed his fingers on her hips. "They won't notice." 

Releasing her glossy pout, (Y/N) offered him a soft smile before she started shooing his hands from underneath her dress. "You know they will. Let's just go, and we can leave early and come home. If you still want me, you can have me then." 

Harry relented then, drawing away from her core and dropping his hands to a more appropriate station on her legs. "Alright," he petulantly sighed, reveling in the small laugh she rewarded him with, "I suppose I can wait." 

"I'll make it worth your while," she promised, bending down to press her lips to his pouted ones with her hands cupping his jaw, "Let me finish and then we can go, honey." 

"I'll be here," he said, sending her off with a pat to her bottom as she bent to collect her shoes from the floor. 

He couldn't manage to tear his eyes from her as she padded back to her bedroom, folding his hands in his lap with his palms buzzing from her warmth.

—————

Harry's hand sat gently on (Y/N)'s thigh, his palm a cuff around the curve. Opposing his soft touch was the tick that had his jaw clenched shut. His throat bobbed every time he chanced a look at her from the corner of his eye. 

Tawny's get together had been just as eventful as Harry had figured. It was full of wine glasses, "homemade" snacks (she has never learned to throw away her takeout boxes), and bubbling chatter. He learned from Sarah that she and Mitch had started talking about the possibility of babies, Tom and Jenny were going away for a month-long trip to Greece later in the year, and Charlotte was planning on hosting an open mic night at her café (and pleaded with almost everyone to get them to come so it didn't completely flop). He had been little more than (Y/N)'s accessory at times, clasping her hand in his and dutifully following her around as she flounced about and talked to anyone and everyone. He wasn't much in the mood for socializing after shoving down his desires back at her apartment—he would much rather trail behind her, getting an eyeful of her ass and the sway of her hips. 

His mind hadn't drifted far from what he had been desperate to do before having to leave for Tawny's. He was eager to end the night; watching her and giving innocent touches to the small of her back or on her hand weren't enough. It was the worst when she had scooted by him when everyone had migrated to the couch, (Y/N) sidestepping around him as she used his shoulders to steady herself, leaving his face level with the soft of her tummy and just where he knew the line of her panties laid under her shimmering dress. He'd had to collect a throw blanket to drape over his lap afterwards, feigning a want to share with and warm (Y/N) when she settled at his side once again. 

As much as he loved his friends and seeing (Y/N) bubble and chatter among them, by the time the two hour mark approached on their stay, he was ready to get out of there. After a slew of too-long goodbyes and a suspicious glance from Mitch, Harry had his arm around (Y/N)'s waist as they made it out the door. 

That was how he found himself here, not paying enough attention to the road with his pants too tight for comfort. 

"Are you okay? You're being really quiet," (Y/N) murmured by the time they pulled up to her apartment complex, her hand came to rest atop his own. 

He could feel her eyes on him as he steered them towards his unofficial parking spot. "'M alright, sweetheart. Jus' really want to get y'inside." 

Whatever she saw in his darkened gaze had her own features softening, a giddy smile on her lips. "Really?" she chirped, attempting a discreet glance at his lap. 

His lips folded into a lopsided smile as he squeezed her thigh. He leaned across the console, leveling his gaze to hers with a brush of his nose against the bridge of her own. 

"As if you didn't know," he teased, quickly pressing his lips to hers in a deft kiss before he was releasing his hold with a pat to her leg, "Now, c'mon. 'M tired of waiting."

Harry felt a little too smug when she didn't immediately follow, stuck for a moment in her spot with her eyes blown wide. Rounding the bonnet of the car, he met her at her door before she had a chance to push it open. He helped her steady on the asphalt, the point of her heels teetering on the uneven surface. 

Hooking his arm around her waist, he escorted her up the open staircase leading to her apartment. With his mind occupied, thinking about the soft cotton of her panties he had felt up earlier in the night, the trek felt like nothing to him. (Y/N)'s fingers fumbled some as she unlocked her door, surely feeling the weight of his hand on her hip and the heat of his gaze tracing over her profile. 

Stepping over the threshold, (Y/N) turned to Harry as he locked the door behind them, her eyes bright and a bashful smile on her lips. 

"Let me take off my makeup, and ch—" 

Surging forward, Harry used his grip around her waist to press her back into the wall before sealing his lips to hers in an urgent kiss. He was sure she had an idea of what she thought he wanted tonight—another replay of her splayed out on his bed with her legs spread and his cock sinking inside her—but he had a different craving that he doubted she even realized. She melted into his kiss after a lag of surprise, her hands floating up to settle on either side of his jaw. The length of her nails caught on the baby hairs bordering his hairline. 

Parting his lips, Harry deepened the kiss with his tongue swiping out to draw a line along the seam of her mouth. (Y/N) didn't hesitate before matching his intensity, welcoming his tongue inside her mouth with a delicate moan. Slick sounds filled the entryway to her home, matching the parting and meeting of their lips over and over. He didn't care to be particularly composed as he doled out his affection, the twisting of their tongues messy and clumsy with how badly Harry wanted to put his mouth all over her. Every sigh she breathed in his mouth, every drag of her nails through his hair, every heave of her breasts against his chest had him crumbling that much more. 

Trailing his mouth down, smearing his kiss over the curve of her chin to the line of her jaw, Harry followed all the way down the column of her throat. The lower he went, dropping towards the neckline of her dress, he could feel how heated her skin was, chest heaving as she caught her breath through kiss-swollen, saliva-slicked lips. 

He dropped to his knees in front of her, feeling his pulse thrumming as he gazed up at her from his new position. A lopsided smile landed on his lips when he saw the way she looked down at him, instinctively reaching for the curls crowning his head, threading her fingers through the waves. 

"W-We can go to my bedroom, an—" 

Harry shook his head before she could finish. "We're going to stay right here, sweetheart." 

With that, he grabbed one of her ankles and shifted to kneel in front of her. He placed her heeled foot on his bent thigh, working his fingers into the clasp that held the strappy piece around her ankle. Peering up at her through his lashes, he could see how intensely he held her attention doing nothing more than a simple task he'd done for her plenty of times over. A bit of pride had him straightening his shoulders. 

He had her right where he wanted. 

Shucking her shoes off, sending her back to her original height, Harry didn't make any move to get up. Despite the way she tugged at his hair, urging him to stand up and continue with the mess of kisses they had started, Harry stayed right where he was. He could kiss her for the rest of the night if she wanted, but he needed to take care of this first. 

With how hard his cock was in his pants, a blurt of precum having wet the fabric of his briefs, diving between her thighs was going to be more for him than her.

Planting his mouth in a searing kiss on the plush of her thigh, he started a new expedition in adoring the rest of her body he had been so awful to ignore before. Goosebumps raised on her skin as he plucked his teeth against the soft skin. His palms skated up the curve of her legs, following the line of her form just as he had until he was edging under the hem of her dress. He dragged his lips over her thighs, never fully parting from the flesh before he pressed another languid kiss to her skin. 

"Harry," she sighed the call when she felt his nose skim the fluttering edge of her dress, lifting it up with another kiss being placed on the newly-bare skin. 

"Wanna take care of you, pretty girl," he murmured to her, his words dripping over her skin and down the length of her legs, "Always make me feel so good, want to do that for you now. Can I, sweetheart?" 

"A-Are you sure?" she asked, eyes softened and trained only on him. 

His hands plunged under her dress, landing on the waist of her underwear with his fingertips teasing the elastic. More of her thighs were put on display from the lifted fabric, but the front swath hung perfectly over her modesty, concealing her from his eyes despite his best efforts. Harry nosed at where her clit was nestled away out of his sight, feeling her hips tense under his hands. 

"Been thinking about it all week, pretty girl. I think 'm very sure," he grumbled against her, "Y'can't distract me this time." 

Her skin warmed, her pulse bubbling. "I just wasn't sure—you-you've never... before, so." 

Harry shook his head, a frown of disappointment settling on his lips as he gazed up at her. "That's no good, huh. Haven't been very fair of me to not take care of you and eat your pretty pussy out like you deserve—especially since you're always so sweet to me, darling." 

"It's okay," she told him, her bottom lip being plucked between her teeth, "I know you love me." 

Harry's features softened and molded into a tender smile. This time the kiss he dropped on the bare of her thigh was made of nothing but pure affection. "I do love you—very much. Can I show you how much?" 

The eager nod she gave him was the permission he needed before Harry was finally shucking her underwear down her legs. He helped her step out of the fabric before he unceremoniously stuffed them in his pocket. Settling as comfortably as he could on his knees, Harry flicked his gaze up to watch her reaction just before he pushed her dress up.

Her pussy glistened in the light, her lips puffy and soaked. Her fingers in his hair pulsed just before she widened her stance that much more, revealing more of herself to him. While it was far from the first time he'd seen all of her body, this moment felt more charged than any before. 

He truly did feel bad, hearing what she said. He didn't like that she had just assumed she was one of the many that didn't believe in going down on their girlfriend, that it was something he wouldn't even try with her. The assumption was far from the truth and something he planned on banning from her mind after tonight. 

Leaning forward, taking advantage of her spread legs, he planted his lips on the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. "Can't believe I've never tasted you before, love. Y'look so sweet, you know that?" 

"M-Maybe," she answered, her voice a shaky whisper from above, the heat of her gaze following his movements. 

"Maybe?" he teased, skimming his lips that much higher before starting from the beginning on the opposite thigh, "Have you tasted yourself before, pretty?" 

Harry was sure that if he could reach her cheeks, he would have been able to feel the heat bubbling under her skin at his question. "Um, once or twice," she sheepishly admitted. 

His mouth broke into a grin at her admission. His briefs were going to be sporting quite the wet patch if she kept this up. 

"I don't blame you," he mumbled into her skin, reaching the softest part just a breath away from her pussy, "I don't know how y'keep your hands off all day long. I could spend hours right here, darling." 

Inhaling a heavy breath through his nose, he caught the scent of her arousal. He had a hard time dragging his eyelids open afterwards, sinking that much more into the moment. 

Closing that small, teasing distance, Harry offered himself some mercy and planted his lips directly onto her clit. It was a loving kiss, his lips puckered and giving just the way they would have been had he been kissing her mouth. A small yelp left (Y/N)'s lips at the contact, her muscles bunching under his palms. 

Peering up at her through the frame of his lashes, Harry pushed another budding kiss to her clit, this time watching the look on her face. He saw her eyes attempt to close, lashes kissing her cheekbones, with her mouth dropping into a small gape. A pinch appeared between her brows, the same way they always scrunched when she was attempting to concentrate on something. 

The thought had the very corner of his lips plucking into a slight smile. 

After planting a slew of kisses on her clit, feeling her pulse jump against him, Harry dropped his hands from her hips to slide around to the backs of her thighs. His palms cuffed the soft skin, fingertips denting into the gentle curve as he pushed her towards his face, angling her hips just so. Throwing one of her legs over his shoulder, her slit parted to match the splaying of her hips, revealing her flushed sensitivity. Her core was sticky wet, waiting for him. 

(Y/N)'s breath caught at the first spread of his tongue through her slit, matching the rumbling groan that came from his chest. Harry had to fight to keep his eyes from shuttering as he sunk into the moment—into the taste of her on his buds, into the feel of her weight on his shoulder, the pulsing slickness of her opening. Something deep in his stomach was quelled finally after getting his first taste, urging him to indulge more and more now that he finally had what he wanted right in his hands. His fingers pulsed around her thighs, keeping her steady on her feet and pussy presented for him to do as he pleased. 

The flat of his tongue slid through her slit over and over, collecting her wetness and reveling in the heady taste that was her before swallowing. The tip teased her hole, dipping in in hopes and catching more of her taste right from the source. He could feel (Y/N)'s toes curl behind his back, her heel pressing into his spine to urge him into giving more. He smiled around his ministrations as he zigzagged his tongue over her pussy before he focused back on her clit. 

Kissing at the bud, he spoke as best he could without lifting his mouth from her cunt. "Y'taste so good, pretty. Gonna need this every single day now that I've had you," he told her, unsure if this was just dirty talk at the moment. He could imagine a good life where he started every day between her thighs and ended it the same way. His cock jumped in his trousers at the thought. "Can y'give me that, sweetheart? Your pussy every day just for me to have?" 

"Uh-huh, uh-huh," she sounded, her voice a touch shaky as she braced herself with her grip on his shoulders. "Feels re-really good, H." 

Spurred on by her stuttered praise, Harry surged forward, replacing his lips with his tongue now laving over her clit. It was swollen between his lips as he gave placating sucks to the bud, (Y/N) letting out the softest mewls in response. With her thighs trembling under his hands, he dared to think that if he weren't there to prop her up or the wall offering her balance, she would have tumbled down. 

He wanted to give her something worth crumbling for. 

Diving down from her clit, he followed the split of her spread lips until he was tonguing at her opening. Her wetness had spread to the inside of her thighs, his cheeks, and now the tip of his nose as he wagged the flat of his tongue over her folds. It was just as he wanted her, a little messy, a little clumsy as she learned just how it felt to be taken care of by him. 

Pointing his tongue, he jutted his chin against her and thrust his tongue straight inside her pussy. Her fluttering walls clenched around him, welcoming him in as if this was his cock splitting her walls open. Above him, (Y/N) had gone silent. Peeking at her, he saw her jaw slack, eyes closed, and her chest shuddering with a stunted breath. If his mouth wasn't so busy, he wouldn't have been able to hold back the smug curl of his lips. 

Instead, he wriggled his tongue inside her, tracing along the ridges and curves he was so familiar with in another context. (Y/N)'s hands in his hair came alive then, tugging at his roots. He matched her intensity, stroking his tongue in and out of her hole while he used his grip on her thighs to bring her flush to his face. His cheeks were muffed by her warm thighs, chin soaked in her slick, and nose mushed against her clit. 

"H-Harry, fuck," (Y/N) cried, her voice thin, "I-I—oh my god—I—" 

"What do you need, sweetheart?" Harry asked, drawing away just enough to speak against her puffy folds. "I'll give it to you, jus' tell me what." 

She swallowed hard, throat bobbing as she fluttered her gaze to keep in the moment. "Fi-Fingers, please." 

He didn't bother to answer, instead giving into her want in a heartbeat. With the hand cupping the thigh sitting on his shoulder, Harry reached between her legs and stuffed his middle finger inside her fluttering walls. He thrusted through a handful of times before he added his index, (Y/N) keening at the addition with her head thumping against the wall. 

With her shimmery dress still covering her form, every heaving breath, every shudder of her spine, every tensing of her hips was highlighted in the faux-starlight. She was a dream above him, a sheen on her skin, hair pulled back from her face as if she knew he would want to catch every minute expression she made. His own breath came in ragged puffs, but he didn't care much as he attached his mouth to her clit once more. 

He drove his fingers inside her while he sucked her clit between his lips, giving those same laving licks and soft sucks that had her whimpering in the first place. Her hands in his hair were shocked into a tight, unwavering grip. Her thigh over his shoulder shifted until her calf was strapped across his back, urging him closer and closer, toes curling against the material of his shirt. 

He could do this all night, but he had a feeling (Y/N)'s expiration was coming soon. The telltale sign came in the scrunch of her nose, her eyes clamping shut before she forced them open in hopes of catching every detail. 

"Gonna cum for me, pretty?" he mouthed against her clit, feeling (Y/N)'s muscles bunch at the feeling of his voice vibrating around her. 

A small whine crawled its way out of her throat as she nodded, her mouth in nothing more than a gape. 

"Let me have it, sweetheart," he crooned, "Want you to cum on m'face so bad. Been all I could think about for the last week—don't disappoint me." 

There was that trigger he knew too well. She always wanted nothing more than to be the best for him—his best girl, his perfect love, his favorite everything—she would never disappoint him. (Could never, really, as far as Harry was concerned). 

All it took was a brush of Harry's fingers through her fluttering walls and particularly lingering suck of her clit before (Y/N) was crumbling above him. His name left her mouth as if in prayer, adoration and admiration soaking into the syllables. Her back arched from the wall, pushing her hips that much closer to his face. Harry didn't stop, feeling her walls pulse around his fingers, her clit pulsing between his lips. She grew especially wet, leaving him to lap it all up—just as he had wanted in his fantasies.

Aftershocks rained through her body as she came down, her muscles pulsing at every touch he gave her. It wasn't until she let out a particularly pathetic whine, her hands in his hair pushing him off, did he draw away from her. 

"Too much?" he asked, voice hoarse through his swollen lips. 

"Too much," she repeated in a watery voice. 

His mouth and cheeks were soaked, the tip of his nose and chin also glistening in the light. His hands slid down her form, fingers cramping from how tightly he held onto her. (He hoped he both did and didn't leave any bruises on her skin; he hated thinking about her in pain, but also appreciated the thought of his mark on her). 

While (Y/N) caught her breath, Harry helped ease her thigh from his shoulder, steadying her balance without his form propping her up. He fixed her dress despite there being no reason to hide after what they just did, smoothing the fabric over her hips in a soothing touch. 

"Y'alright, love?" he asked, feeling a little breathless himself as he checked in on her. 

"Yeah," she answered simply, her eyes having fluttered shut. 

Harry smiled at her, standing to the full of his height. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he started her towards her bedroom. "Let's get y'cleaned up, yeah?" 

"Yeah," she repeated. Harry's grin grew wider.

With her eyes hooded and movements lethargic, Harry guided her back to her bedroom. Flicking on the light, he deposited her on the edge of her bed. He watched with an affectionate smile as she flopped back into the mattress, arms falling above her head as she stretched out. 

He left her to her quiet soothing as he stepped into her bathroom. Picking a washcloth from her collection under the sink, he wet it before running it across his face to clean up her remaining wetness. Looking at himself in the mirror, Harry could only shake his head. 

His hair was a mess, raspberry lips tinted to that of a red-ripened strawberry. His cheeks were flushed, the blush reaching over the bridge of his nose and down the curve of his neck. Just as he thought, his cock was still impossibly hard in his pants, hiding a drenched spot on the front of his briefs where he had been leaking blurts of precum while tasting his girl. 

Taking the damp flannel, Harry reentered her room to see her just as he left her. She wordlessly opened her thighs for him when he took up a now familiar position on his knees in front of her. 

"Is it alright if I push up your dress again, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice a low croon in the quiet of her bedroom. "Jus' gonna clean you." 

"Okay," she answered simply, lifting her hips some as he pushed up the fluttery hem.

Harry made quick work of wiping up her arousal that had dripped to the inside of her thighs and his saliva that he had spread over her intimacy. When he touched her clit, hoping it would be so fast she wouldn't notice, he earned a small hiss, her legs recoiling to close around his hand. 

"Too much," she reminded him, a pout evident in her voice. 

"'M sorry, sweetheart," he murmured, compounding his words with a small kiss to the cuff of her knee, "Almost done, then we'll get ready for bed. You're tired, right?" 

"Yeah," she sighed. 

He didn't waste much time finishing up, signaling he was done with a swift kiss to her hip before standing to his full height. 

"I'll grab some clothes for y'to change into, then we'll cuddle up. Does that sound good?" he prattled, looking over her as she laid still stretched out. 

"Wait," she stopped him, reaching her arms out for him. Harry didn't hesitate before lacing his fingers between hers, though she didn't stop before she had tugged him into laying beside her on the bed. 

A plume of laughter fell from his lips, matching the dimpled smile molding his swollen lips. "What is it, huh?" 

Disentangling their fingers, (Y/N) instead reached out and looped her arms around his neck. Pulling him in for an innocent kiss, she nudged her nose against his. "Thank you." 

"Sweetheart, that was as much for me as it was for you. Trust me," he laughed, planting another one on her lips. Thinking back to her hesitancy before he had indulged in his fantasy, he kept her close, his expression sobering some. "But, I am sorry I made y'think I wasn't interested in doing anything like that with you. Obviously, that's far from the truth, I jus' never found the right moment, I guess. We always had something more important we wanted to do." 

(Y/N)'s lips plucked into a bashful smile, surely thinking of all the other "important" things they took care of in favor of spreading her thighs open with his head. 

"It's okay," she offered, looking at him with a flutter of her lashes as she dropped her eyes to his mouth, "I'm happy we cleared it up, though." 

"Me too," he murmured, tipping his chin and catching her mouth in another sweet kiss. 

This time (Y/N) deepened it just enough to get a taste of his tongue swiping over hers. There was no doubt she'd get a sample of what was tucked between her thighs, seeing as how Harry could still plainly taste her on his buds. 

"Are you sure you're ready to go to bed?" she asked once she pulled away, shuffling that much closer to him amidst the tufts of her duvet. 

"Did you have other plans?" Harry's gaze scanned over her features, not missing the way she flicked her gaze down, as if hoping she could catch a glimpse of his lap. 

"Well," she started, bright eyes meeting his, "I don't know if it'd be very fair if I was the only one that got to feel good tonight." Scooting closer, she was able to lift her leg to lay over his hip, his hard cock pressing into the inside of her thigh. 

"I think we could postpone sleep, right?" 

Landing his hand on her waist, he pushed her to lay on her back before he laid himself over her. 

She nodded up at him, attempting to bite back her smile. "I think that sounds way more fun."

It was the spark of giddy light in her eyes, the excitement hiding behind her shy smile, that had Harry's heart skipping a beat. 

Staying up with her was much more fun than dreaming.

—————

Today you and Harry had gone to the amusement park together. You split a funnel cake with powdery sugar, you rode a few rides together, held hands as you ran through the rain back to your car and now here you were, in your bedroom at your parent’s house. The storm was heavy and the rain was falling hard and fast. Your parents were asleep and so you and Harry decided he would stay the night. It felt a little awkward for him to stay over because he hadn’t since he started dating Birdie six months ago.

But he’d slept over and in your bed plenty of times before Birdie. Nothing ever really happened. Well, except for the one time.

6 months prior

You’d woken up when you felt Harry moving in a rhythm that didn’t match up with your sleepy brain, so you turned and reached out for him to stop moving but you pressed your hand right over the skin on his hard penis, which he was pumping in his palm. He had been masturbating and was being really quiet, not making much movement at first. But once it started feeling really good and his balls squeezed as he was just about to come, he was shaking the bed a bit with his faster, more meaningful pace and it caused you to wake.

You both gasped the moment your hand came into contact with his, quite sizable dick. You were shocked first of all that it was sitting right there, just out and bare and his hand was clenched around it but also because of the thickness of him. You hadn’t realized. You knew what this was. He’d been masturbating and you looked up into his eyes, not wanting to look away from his pretty erection.

Harry was looking at you, suspended in motion. He intended on not waking you. Originally he was going to get up and go to the bathroom but then after he rubbed over himself he thickened up so fast, he thought maybe it would only take a couple of minutes. He was so horny and getting up from the bed would mean he’d have to walk 30 feet, open and close doors, move his limbs, and then he’d be standing while he wanked in the bathroom. It was a lot of effort, all that. This would have been a quick pop and then he could wipe up with the tissues sitting on the bedside table next to him. He’d never even have to get up.

He should have used better judgment looking back on it now, with your pretty eyes on his and his hand wrapped around his dick. And he saw the way you looked at his cock. Your eyes widened, lips parted. You paused for a bit as you slowly moved your hand away. It was almost like you wanted to keep your fingers on his solid smooth shaft. Warm. Long. Twitching as he was just interrupted from his orgasm.

So when you smiled at him and moved your own fingers down your long t-shirt and slipped them into your knickers Harry released the breath he was holding. You rubbed over yourself, fingers hidden by the fabric over them, and Harry started up his movements again.

You watched as he jerked his cock in a cadence that was the stencil for your own movements.

“C…can I see? Too?” Harry asked as he moved his free hand up to the band of your panties, still pumping himself.

You nodded at him and stopped your fingers for a moment as you pulled your panties down to your thighs. Then you quickly got back to work.

The sharp inhale of breath from Harry when he saw your pussy for the first time was not missed by you.

You spread yourself a little as you rubbed your clit to allow maximum friction. You and Harry were both rubbing your genitalia, masturbating with panting breaths right next to each other. You knew you’d regret this later but your tired/horny brain didn’t mind too much at the moment. Seeing Harry’s fingers wrap around himself as he fucked into his hand was so hot. And your little wet pussy in his view, arousal being pushed around over your clit, slushy sounds coming from you, it was his end.

You both came quickly, your eyes on one another, the scene was lewd and naughty. Harry ejaculated over his torso and his face scrunched, mouth wide open, breathing hard with one deep groan into the room.

Just the look on his face had you coming. It burst hotly from your veins as you watched his orgasming expression and you whimpered and moaned and when Harry heard you coming he opened his eyes to see for himself. He didn’t want to miss it.

After you both cleaned yourselves with the tissues on the bedside table, all in silence, you laid back into your pillow and Harry pulled the sheets back over his body. And it was never brought up again.

But that was just once. Before his girlfriend came into the picture, well, before they were “official” anyway. Which is probably why it was never brought up. And now he and Birdie were together, well, certainly nothing would be happening.

You both got into bed, joking around like always as you clicked your tv on so you could watch something for a bit. Neither of you was tired yet, you’d both admitted.

Harry slid into the bed next to you. You had your back against the wall and sat with your legs pointed toward the tv on the opposite wall. You’d stuffed pillows and blankets all around, both cozied in. But Harry was close and you were very aware of his proximity. Even with all the blankets and pillows, he’d wiggled in right next to you and his bony knee was dug into your low thigh. Burning, sizzling your flesh, and shooting up your skin directly to your core. You were so attracted to him, and it was moments like these that you hated it. Because he definitely didn’t feel the heat of proximity, his heart didn’t pummel his ribs in his chest, his tummy didn’t send out butterflies into his groin and make him drip with arousal as it did you.

You bit your lip and tried to keep your attention on the tv, or at least you tried to feign interest. Because you couldn’t pay attention to anything but the person sitting next to you. His looming presence. He was leaning toward you, his arm nearly pressed into yours, but just an inch short. It made the hair on your skin raise. Your throat felt dry.

Pay attention to the tv.

Then Harry chuckled and you turned to look at him, "What?"

"You. What're so you stiff for? Look like you're uncomfortable or something. This show's not that good, Y/n."

You forced a smile and knew you were red in the face. Your hormones were going nuts. Any time you were around him lately they were. You couldn't help it. You tried stopping the way you were attracted to him, the way you felt about him beyond just the attraction, the way it stung that he'd never choose you. But ever since that night when you masturbated together, the view of his cock in his hand had been carved into your brain, a permanent fixture and you had a hard time not thinking of him in that way.

"Oh just... I think I just need to..." you scooted around and moved away from him a bit. It helped you breathe. You acted like you were just trying to get yourself more comfortable when you lifted the blanket and pulled at it, to untuck it from your bottom, but the blanket wasn't really that tucked in so when you pulled you gave it too much muscle and the force caused your arm to fly up and you hit Harry in the chin.

"Ooomff!" He reached up and grabbed at his face and backed away from you.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry! Let me see!" You got onto your knees and pushed Harry back, as you leaned over him to assess the damage. You'd whacked him good, "Does it hurt? Do you need ice? I'm so sorry, Harry!"

Harry just laughed and grabbed your hips, flipping you down to the bed, tackling you over the pillows, and holding you down, his hands pinning your upper arms down as he straddled you. You squealed and laughed at the sudden move.

Then Harry released your arms and brought his fingers down over your ribs and started to tickle your sides. You squirmed and kicked as much as you could and tried pushing his weight off of you but Harry was heavy and strong. Always freakishly strong.

"Oh no! Does that tickle? What 'bout here? Right here?" He continued his fingers over your shirt-covered ribs when you realized, between blushing and laughing from being tickled, that you'd taken your bra off because you two were settling in to go to bed anyway. It was a bit of a habit to remove your bra before bed.

And the reason why you realized it was because Harry suddenly slowed his movements and you opened your eyes to look up at him and saw the way his eyes were taking in the braless tits, with hard nipples poking through the t-shirt on the girl he was just tickling and it had you embarrassed.

You pushed at him to make him move off and he did. Silently. He didn’t say anything about it, just moved back to his spot on the wall and fixed his eyes on the tv.

You felt your face heat up and wished you could just disappear. Sink into the blankets and never come back up. He was obviously grossed out by your braless breasts. You swallowed the lump down your throat and tried to ignore how it made you feel that he reacted the way he did. Obvious disgust. And now? He can’t even look at you.

You both stared at the tv screen in silence. You went over in your head how you should apologize to him but the longer the moment had passed the less it seemed to matter. The damage was done. You felt nauseated.

Harry had tickled you plenty of times. In fact, he tickled you just about any time you were alone together and joking around and even in front of Birdie a time or two. Though you could tell Birdie was not a fan of him tickling you based on the scowl you’d receive when Harry would finally peel himself away from you. You loved it when he touched you, though. It felt like the only time it was okay to let him put his hands all over you and even though you truly were very ticklish, it turned you on just having his digits digging into your ribs or your tummy. But you wouldn’t ever tell him that. And you realized that if you had a boyfriend you wouldn’t want him tickling another girl that way either.

His voice made you jump as you were caught in a state of self-loathing and disappointment while trying to push down the reaction your body automatically had after he touched you.

“Y’hear me?” His head was leaned back to the wall as he was looking at you.

“Oh. No, I didn’t. Sorry.” Another thing to apologize for.

“Said that maybe we shouldn’t tell Birdie I’m staying the night. She wouldn’t like it.”

You nodded. Of course not. Wouldn’t want your girlfriend to know you're staying the night with your dog of a best friend. You put your gaze back to the tv and tried to brush off your upset. It was no use.

And suddenly his hand was on your wrist and he was leaning forward to get your attention, “Hey. Look at me. Are you okay?”

You turned your face to look at his handsome one and just shrugged, “Yeah. I’m fine. Why?”

“Cause you got pretty quiet after I tickled you. Did I do something wrong?” He seemed sincerely concerned.

You looked down at the blanket over your lap, “No. of course, you didn’t. Just felt embarrassed.”

Harry’s hand at your wrist tightened a touch, “Can you please look at me?”

You lifted your head again to look at him.

“There. Now, why did you feel embarrassed?” His kind eyes were always so entrancing.

“Uh… well, because I forgot I took my bra off and that was… well, it’s gross. I’m sorry.” You tried looking back down at your lap but Harry shifted and moved his hand from your wrist to your chin and gently tipped your face toward him so you had to look at him.

“What’s gross? Nothing gross has happened here tonight. And you shouldn’t be embarrassed. S’just boobs," Harry laughed his words as he spoke.

You nodded but kept silent. Yeah, just boobs. Ugly ones attached to your ugly friend, nothing to get worked up over.

Harry kept his eyes on yours for a little longer than he normally would and you swear you saw him look down at your lips and then slowly back up to your eyes. It had you feeling warm and confused. There was a time you thought he liked you but then he asked Birdie out and she was everything you were not. You two couldn’t have been more opposite. And that was all you needed to know to see he probably never liked you like that.

But this look, this gaze had your heart racing. You'd seen it before.

“Pretty.” He said it in nearly a whisper. A quiet statement that might not have been meant for your ears but you heard him. And he was looking at you as he said it, more to himself than to you.

You stitched your brows together and shook your head. No, that's unlikely that he'd said that. You huffed a laugh and tried to turn your face away but Harry's hand kept a loose grip on your chin, turning you back to face him.

"You're pretty. Very. It's why I think we shouldn't tell Birdie. Because she thinks I like you," Harry's words had you utterly confused. You're pretty, he says, but also, he doesn't want Birdie to know... it didn't make sense what he was saying.

"Right. But of course, you don't like me like that. So..." you looked down, and moved your eyes off of his beautiful ones while he still held your chin.

"I do. But... we're friends and... I guess that makes this complicated," he released your chin and you turned your head away. You knew it was a lie. He was just trying to make you feel good. Soften the blow of why he would never choose you.

"That's okay. I get it, Harry," you swallowed the lump in your throat and blinked your tears back. You would not allow yourself to cry in front of him about this. It was silly.

Harry sighed and from your peripheral could see him lean back to the wall where he turned to face toward the TV.

It was silent like that for a bit. No words, no movements. You were feeling quite sad and confused, but mostly sad.

You don't know how long you two stared at the TV in silence. The dark room was lit up with the TV screen and the volume was low so as not to wake your parents.

"So that's it? I get nothing from you?" Harry spoke quietly. You turned to look at him as he kept his gaze on the TV. His jaw was clenched.

"What do you mean?" You were so confused about everything that he'd said. Now, this?

Harry slowly turned his head toward you and he looked upset. He had a frown line between his brows as he spoke, "I just told you that I liked you and that I think you're pretty. You gave me nothing. You never give me anything. I've been flirting with you and dropping hints for years. I get nothing from you but jokes and you just brush me off every time." He sounded mad.

You blinked in your confusion and frowned, "What? What do you mean? Dropping hints? Harry, you have a whole girlfriend who is my complete opposite. I don't understand what you mean."

Harry shook his head and kept a look of disdain over his features, "You're always acting so clueless. We flirt and you brush it off. Remember when we... you know, you saw me that night and we both... did that mean nothing?"

You huffed and scowled, "Obviously it did but then you went and asked Birdie to be your girlfriend the very next week. What was I supposed to do? Beg you to not go out with her?" You had raised your voice slightly.

Harry let out a scoff, "I wanted you to tell me you liked me, Y/n. You never said anything about it again after that. The next morning when I tried bringing it up you made some joke about it. How it was gross. So, yeah, I tried to move the fuck on with a girl who I know for sure likes me."

You thought back to that morning after. You felt like he was not serious when he brought it up. It seemed like he was joking about it himself so you went with that vibe and brushed him off. But now he was here he was mad about it somehow.

"I don't know what to think Harry. You're confusing me."

Harry shuffled on the bed and turned toward you, his face still set in a serious expression, "Okay. Fair enough. I guess I should just…” he sat for a moment as he looked at you, his jaw clenched, “I like you. I would have liked to have asked you to be my girlfriend. Not Birdie. Does that clear up your confusion?" He looked down at you with his brows raised before continuing, "But you never could tell me what you felt for me. Every single time I tried to talk to you about it you laughed it off. So what was I supposed to do?" Harry laughed and shifted again, "You always give me mixed signals, Y/n. I see the way you look at me, and sometimes the way you flirt with me is not just a friendly flirt. And that night when we masturbated together... well that was something. But you're too scared to let me like you so you pretend there's nothing here. So that's why I have a girlfriend who's not you."

You were stunned. You couldn't look him in the eyes or breathe or move. You had to be dreaming but you also knew you weren't. You felt ashamed and disappointed in yourself because he was right. He'd given you a lot more than you'd ever given him and now it was probably too late.

You returned your gaze to his and soften your features as you pushed your nerves down to tell him the truth once and for all, "I'm sorry. You're right. I..." you swallowed to wet your dry throat and felt your nerves bubble over as you pushed them down to finally spit it out, "I like you. I have for a long time. I just... I didn't think you really would like me that way."

Harry's stern expression with the frown line softened as you spoke but then he shook his head, "Fuck that. I have tried to show you. Don't put the blame on me here - saying I wouldn't like you like that. What's that mean? That's bullshit and you know it."

You licked your lips and nodded. It was bullshit. You were just a coward, "Sorry."

Harry sighed and groaned, "Stop. I don't want to hear sorry. Do you have feelings for me? As more than just friends, Y/n. I need to know. It feels like you do but you keep pushing me away. I just need to know so I know what to do here."

You smushed your face up in confusion again, "What to do?"

Harry laughed in frustration and shook his head, "Answer the question."

You both stared at one another, the proximity was causing you to ache again. He'd put his hair in a bun before you got into bed because his hair had gotten long and for some reason, you found him even more attractive than when he had it down. His cheekbones were gorgeous. His features were perfectly symmetrical and handsome. There was no way he'd actually be into you. But he just said he was. You had to tell him the truth.

"I do have feelings for you, Harry. Um... deep feelings and I have for a long time. I like you a lot," you looked down and took a deep breath. You don't know why it was so hard to say but now that you had you felt your entire body tingle with embarrassment.

Harry was silent for a bit. It had you worried. You'd already struggled to tell him that you liked him and now he was quiet. You looked up at his face and Harry had his lips pursed to the side in thought. His light green eyes were on your face.

"Is that what you wanted to hear? What? Now I've said it and that's it?" You crossed your arms over your chest and Harry rolled his eyes.

"God, you're so frustrating. I just wanted a moment to bask in the news you'd just given me. Wanted a moment to soak it in." His expression became playful, a lopsided grin took over his features, and his dimples appeared. You smiled back at him and looked down at your lap.

"You like me enough to be my girlfriend?" He raised his brows at you and tilted his chin upward.

You parted your lips, "Uh... yeah. But you already have a girlfriend so..." you narrowed your eyes at him.

Harry let out a breath in disbelief, "Shut up. You have to stop acting like you wouldn't jump my bones this very second if I asked you to," he smiled as he spoke and you shoved at his arm.

"Would not! Harry, you have a girlfriend. You know I'd never do that."

Harry chuckled, "But you would be my girlfriend if I broke up with Birdie?"

You felt like you'd pass out. Was this happening? Harry was the only guy you'd ever felt anything for and he was gorgeous, fun, and your best friend. And now he was asking you this? Your answer was automatic, "Yes."

Harry's grin widened as he lifted his bum and pulled his cell phone from his back pocket. You watched him pull up his messages and bring up Birdie's contact.

It was pretty late, nearing midnight. Birdie had known that you and Harry had gone to the amusement park together and you saw the messages from her that he'd not yet answered.

From Birdie: I thought you were coming over after?

From Birdie: Are you with her still?

Harry typed in his message quickly and hit send.

To Birdie: Yes. I'm with her. Sorry about doing this over text but it's late. I think we should break up. Have felt this way for a while. We'll talk about it tomorrow and I’ll explain.

You stared down at the phone as he locked the screen and put it face down on the bed.

Your heart was pounding in your chest when you looked up at Harry with new eyes. This all felt like a dream.

"There. I'm single now. Wanna go out with me, Y/n?" His smile was a bit cocky and you still had your mouth dropped open in surprise as you nodded.

"Okay. Yeah."

Harry wasted no time in leaning over you and cupping your face. He didn't press his lips to yours right away but you could feel his warm breath on your top lip. He smelled like mint and soap.

"Yeah? Are you serious? Because I don't just like you a little. I want you to be my girlfriend but this is more than that. You mean it?” Harry’s warm hands on your face felt dizzying.

You bit your lip to suppress the grin that was taking over and nodded, “I am. I’ve wanted that… this. I really like you, as more than a friend, Harry.”

Harry let out a sigh and closed his eyes before shifting to his knees, still with your face in his hands, his forehead to yours, “Fuck. Okay. Then I need you to understand me when I tell you this," Harry swallowed and you heard it and you felt his lips brush over yours briefly before he continued, "I'm in love with you, Y/n. I'm crazy about you."

Your lips were still parted. There was no part of you that didn't love every part of him and now he was here in your bed telling you he felt the same. It was insane how fast things changed from the moment you arrived at your bedroom until now.

"H... Harry... I love you too."

The moment the last word left your mouth his lips smoothed over yours in reckless haste. It was your first kiss with Harry, well like this because there had been the occasional peck of the cheek and forehead. But this kiss had your brain turned to putty. Your limbs were floating and your heart was bouncing around on the inside of your body. You lifted your arms to wrap around his neck and Harry moved his hands from your face down to your waist to pull you in close to him.

You’d kissed a handful of guys but none of them gave you butterflies the way this kiss did. None of those kisses filled your body with an ache and relieved the craving all at once. None of the kisses you’d had in the past felt like they’d change the course of your life like this one.

When his tongue pressed against yours you whimpered on accident, Harry broke from the kiss with a small laugh. His eyes were dark and his raspberry lips were wet and pinker than you’d ever seen them.

“God. So you’re my girlfriend? And you fucking love me?” Harry swallowed and let out a shaky breath as his chest rose and fell with a heavy breath, “I’ve just wanted you for so long. I feel like we’ve wasted so much time.”

Oh god did you want him too. For years. Everything about him was your ideal. You modeled every idea of a relationship after the friendship you had with him. You knew everything about one another and your feelings for him ran so deep that you felt it seep from the bottom of your feet and squish around with every move you made. Like stepping into the ocean and having your feet sink into the silky sand underneath. The kind that gets into your toenails and even after you’ve showered you find traces of it all over your clothes and your shoes and your floor. And then the night you saw his dick all those months back. You hadn’t stopped thinking about it. You’d only had a few quick boyfriends. One of them you had sex with but none of the guys you tried dating would come close to being like Harry.

You dropped your gaze to his crotch and noticed the sizeable bulge and you let out a laugh. It all felt so surreal.

Harry scoffed, “Looking down at the big guy? Do you want another peek at him so you can make a more informed decision as to whether you actually love me or not?” Harry’s words sputtered out in a laugh. He was always teasing like this. It felt like you two were back to normal but now there was a heavy blanket of sexual tension covering you both.

“Shut up! Do you think your dick is what made me love you?” You laughed and nudged at Harry but he grasped your wrist and kept you close. His smile had turned to something a little more seductive, the kind of smile you’d seen him give you before and you felt your tummy dip and soar. It was a smile that faded into something severe and tender. Like need and hunger.

“Probably. It’s what all the girls like me best for,” Harry chuckled and licked his lips. He was teasing obviously. Trying to be playful but you were reeling. You did want to see his dick again. You were already imagining what it might taste like in your mouth, what it would feel like inside of you…

“You’re so dumb,” you spoke with a smile and looked back down at the bulge and back up to him deciding to keep the moment light and teasing, “Okay. Yeah. Let’s see it again so I can decide if I want it near me or not,” you laughed and bit your lip as you looked at Harry. You both smiled and you watched as Harry bit his lip, mimicking your expression.

He kept his eyes on yours with his brows raised as if to say, challenge accepted. Harry was not one to shy away from showing his body. He was quite comfortable with himself. He’d walked around in front of you in boxers or naked (but covering his bits with a towel or a shirt) so many times you couldn’t count. He unbuttoned his pants and lifted his hips to drag them down his thighs. He paused for a moment, his eyes still on yours with a faint smile, head cocked to the side and brows still raised on his face as he pushed his boxers down and then took his t-shirt off swiftly, tossing it into the room. Some of his hair was pulled from the bun he had it in when he pulled his shirt off.

There it was. In all its glory once again. Long and thick and pink at the tip. Your breathing picked up and your head swirled in lust and you felt like you might pass out. But you wanted to touch him and you wanted him to touch you.

You lifted yourself to your knees and pulled your sweatpants down. You weren’t wearing panties but you knew where this was going. It was something you’d wanted for years. You decided that even if he didn’t want to have sex (which was highly unlikely) you’d be okay with that. But you wanted to have sex. The only time you’d ever done it was pretty okay. You liked it enough that you’d like to do it again, and you felt so close to Harry that you knew it would be better with him.

Harry’s gaze landed in between your thighs and his expression changed to something raw, carnivorous. His mouth parted and he couldn’t see your pussy but the view of your soft thighs and the way he knew you didn’t have a bra on under your thin t-shirt made him want to bite down on your smooth inner thighs.

When he reached for you to pull your body to his, you fumbled over his legs and he dragged you up to him where the bottoms of your thighs settled over the top of his, your legs straddling his hip as he leaned back. You pressed your lips to him and he put his hands on your sides. You both had no underwear on. If you moved up only a couple of inches your naked centers would come into contact.

Harry’s palms were gripping your sides keeping you in place. He wanted to bring you up to his dick and have you pressed to him, but he was holding back for your sake. He wasn’t sure if you wanted that or not, but you had taken your sweatpants off…

Harry’s mouth on yours, his tongue sweeping across your tongue, his strong hands holding your hips, the smell of his soap… it felt like everything you ever imagined. And you had imagined it. A lot. You often touched yourself thinking of the way his cock looked in his hand that night. In fact, ever since that night, you hadn’t masturbated to any other person. It had only been Harry from that day on. And now, you were sat in his lap with your warm centers so close you could feel the heat of it over your tummy.

You pushed at his shoulders and sat back to look at him. You wanted to pull your shirt off but there was a bit of you that was still feeling just a little shy. He couldn’t see that you didn’t have panties on yet. Once your shirt came off you’d be totally naked before him. He’d seen your pussy before, but that was in a moment of a sleep-filled lusty haze. There was no sleepiness to use as an excuse this time.

You brought your palms down over his chest and darted your eyes down to his cock. You licked your lips and looked back up at him. You knew he’d slept with three girls. He always told you about his sex life. He knew all about yours too. You hated that he’d been with other girls, far prettier than you thought of yourself.

But Harry hated that you’d been with anyone else as well. He wasn’t going to call himself a Casanova or anything but he knew he could be better with you than anyone else. Half the time he was with Birdie, he imagined it was you. He tried not thinking of you but anytime you two would hang out there was always flirting and teasing, and when he’d go to see Birdie after, if he had plans with her, he couldn’t get you off his mind and it was you he fantasized about.

When Harry began to grin at you because you were taking too long to make another move, which was true as you were just looking from his dick to his eyes, you laughed through your nose. It felt so silly to be shy around him, but at the same time, this was all new territory.

Harry started to laugh with you and then he softly pushed at you, making you fall to your back he kept his hands at your ribs and started tickling you to ease some of the tension because in all honesty, he was nervous too. You were laughing and kicking at him but Harry sat over your thighs keeping you from doing any damage and when he looked down that’s when he noticed your lack of panties. He paused his hands and softened them over your ribs, the pads of his fingers now faintly caressing your sides as he kept his eyes on your pussy. You watched his jaw go slack as he shamelessly inspected the way your thighs were pressed tightly together and how his cock was hanging right above you, it was beautiful, both of your naked bodies so near.

“Not wearing your knickers. That’s a surprise,” Harry smirked at you and brought his hands down to your bare hips and over your thighs and you watched as he swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing harshly.

He pushed himself to hover over you and brought a hand down to your left thigh to spread your legs. He settled in between your thighs and leaned down to kiss you again. But this time he was directly over your body and you could feel the weight of his warm dick lying over your tummy and you moaned and spread your legs further. You knew you were already slick. You usually became wet anytime you were around him for long enough.

Harry groaned and you felt him rock down over you, his thick shaft digging down into you. He continued kissing and licking at your mouth when he reared himself back just a little, placing his cock over your pussy. When he nudged down a little to feel how warm you were he realized you were wet and he easily slid upward.

“God… Y/n. Fuck…” Harry moaned, not stopping his hips from rocking down over you.

You both continued moving together and kissing for long moments. It was something you thought you could do for all eternity. Harry’s heavy cock felt so nice in between your folds and being dragged up and down over your clit.

You whimpered when you began to tingle a little. You felt a little surprised that you could come like this, but of course, you could. It was Harry.

Harry stilled his hips and backed away from the kiss. His pupils were blown out and his lips were pink and puffy, “You’re so wet for me. Bet I could just slip right inside like this,” and he pushed down, nudging at your clit for emphasis.

You nodded, “Yes. I think you could…” you licked your lips and watched Harry’s face closely. You were hungry for anything he was willing to give.

“Can I lick your kitty for a bit,” Harry grinned as he said it. You laughed and nodded.

You held your breath as Harry moved down your body and he put his arms under your thighs and pushed you down into the bed. He looked up at you, still with that smirk on his face, and just as you were about to shove him for being goofy he opened his mouth and brought his tongue out to swipe up your wet folds. You were effectively rendered speechless.

He kept humming and you’d hear, “Mmm…” as he licked through your labia and over your clit. His eyes stayed on you as he ate you out. You watched as his tongue worked around your clit slowly and then he’d draw it into his mouth with a slurping noise. When he pulled his face away a bit to look down at your pussy you watched strings of your arousal from his mouth down to your pussy. He licked his lips, breaking the drips of arousal off and swallowing it down.

He focused his attention on your cunt and moved an arm out from under your thigh to rub his fingers through your folds. You moaned softly at the sensation and the way you were feeling so vulnerable under his close examination.

Harry looked back up at you, his fingers still working your pussy slowly, “You taste so good and you look so pretty. This pussy is the best pussy I’ve ever had, and we haven’t even really started yet.”

You panted when he spoke. You hadn’t expected those words to come out of his mouth. It was sometimes hard to be serious around him but this was no laughing matter. You were so turned on it hurt. You loved everything about this.

Harry returned his mouth to your cunt and then gently eased a finger into your entrance. You dropped your mouth open and let out gasps and felt your simmering blood turn to a boil as he sucked you in and licked you up. His finger massaging at your walls with the low murmur of the TV on in the background.

You put your hands into his hair and this made it come mostly out of the bun he’d had it in. It didn’t matter. He didn’t stop what he was doing to you and you yanked on his hair as you swayed your hips over his mouth.

You had to keep quiet, though. You still lived with your parents and they were just downstairs asleep. It was a conscious effort to keep your moans at a very soft volume, but the way his mouth felt on you had you wanting to be loud.

Harry began to groan a bit and with his cock desperate to be rubbed on something he rocked into the comforter under him, keeping his mouth on your pussy. You looked down at his face and he had his eyes squeezed shut. You could tell he was trying to get relief with the way his hips were grinding down into the bed. You pushed at his forehead a bit and he lifted his face, his lips ghosting over your wet pussy.

“Harry? Um…” you swallowed your nerves down, “… do you want to have sex?” You wanted to have sex. You wanted to feel him inside of you.

Harry’s brows shot up and he pushed himself up and looked around the room and back to you with a nod, “I mean… yeah. Of course I do,” he spoke with a laugh as he pumped his cock a few times for relief. He was aching already. Having his mouth on you was doing him in.

You sat up and finally pulled your t-shirt off over your head and Harry’s eyes widened. He climbed over you, pushing you back down to the bed, and attached his mouth to your tit and lapped around your pebbled nipple as he squeezed the other one under his palm gently.

He looked up at you and shook his, “Fuck,” before going down to kiss and suckle at your other breast.

You laughed when he nipped at you and he raised his head again, his hair all strung out and messy, half up in his bun, “How do you look like this and I never… shit Y/n. You’re so pretty,” he pushed himself up with his face scrunched, “I think I could cry. Fuck…” he palmed at both of your tits for a few more moments, watching as he smushed them together and pushed at your nipples. He couldn’t believe he was getting to grope you after all these years.

When he looked back up at your face you were smiling gently. He smiled back at you, biting his lips into his mouth, the indents in his cheeks carving inward, “Do you have a condom?”

You nodded and sat up again. Harry moved back to give you space and you pulled a packet from your bedside drawer and tossed it to him.

It felt so crazy to watch him naked in your bed as he slid a condom over his dick. A condom that he was putting on and was meant to be used with you. You were both going to have sex. Together. You had goosebumps over your skin but you felt hot. You had imagined this scene in your mind over and over again and now it was really happening.

“Do you want to get on top? Or what do you want? I’m not going to be picky here. I’m gonna like anything you want,” Harry spoke with a low voice as he settled next to you, his hand smoothing up over your hip to your tummy.

“Mmm…” you considered. You weren’t super experienced and the one guy you’d slept with never made you come so you weren’t sure what you liked the most, “Maybe you can start on top, and then we can switch to try with me on top if we feel like it?”

Harry nodded and squeezed your sides with a big smile. He pulled your face back to his and kissed you a little, his palm softly massaging your breasts. And in a smooth transition, Harry moved your legs apart and put himself between your thighs. He rubbed the insides of your soft thighs and got a good look at your pussy again before grasping himself and dragging the condom-covered tip through your slick flesh.

“Okay. Are you ready? Do you need anything first?” He wanted this to be the best you’d ever had. He didn’t want to do anything wrong and he wanted to make sure that you were happy and well-pleased with him. He wanted to be a good lover.

“I’m ready. Just need you,” you nodded and spoke in a whisper as you watched Harry’s arm flex when he lined himself up to you and began to gently and slowly move past your entrance. You watched Harry, his eyes on yours as he entered you for the first time. It was a gorgeous little stretch and pull and you gasped with a smile on your face.

Harry returned your smile and paused for a second. He wanted to enjoy this with you. He planned on going slow and connecting with you the whole time.

“Okay? Feels okay?” He breathed his words out and you nodded with a grin.

He began to push himself in further before he slowly reared back and then plunged in again, coating the condom with your arousal. Each time he backed out a little and then pushed back into you he got a bit deeper.

His languid strokes were slow and smooth. You were both panting and it felt so good. It felt like it was meant to. You were so happy, so beyond excited about Harry wanting you that your brain was fuzzy with joy and love and all those gushy gooey feelings. Harry leaned over you as he continued fucking into you slowly. He pressed his lips to yours and you opened your mouth up right away, licking his tongue and pushing your lips together with hot open-mouthed kisses.

You were glad the TV was on. It helped to drown out the noise of your mattress squeaking and the small moans and whines coming from you two. You kept quiet but you knew that if Harry sped up at all things would naturally become louder.

You rocked your hips upward each time Harry rolled his hips down into you, giving your clit the friction it needed. Harry kept his mouth over yours as his cock slid inside of you, deeper and deeper until he was pushed into the hilt and he let out a bit of a louder groan when he felt you squeezing him tight.

He lifted his mouth and with a small laugh he spoke, “Thank fuck for the condom or I’d already have been coming. You feel really good,” his grin was sexy and you lowered your hands to his bottom and pulled him in closer to you. He kept his eyes on you as he thrust upward into you, keeping himself fully sheathed inside of you.

You bit your lip and breathed hard through your nose. He was deep. It felt so good, though, to be connected to him this way and you nodded, “It does feel really good. I can feel you so deep, Harry,” your words were panted out as Harry continued rolling his hips upward to push your insides apart.

When he began to pull out to his tip and then glide inward you could hear how wet things were down there. Harry was grunting and he felt his groin get wetter and wetter each time he got balls deep. Part of him wished he get even deeper, push even further into you, lodge his cock into your guts so far that you two could never be apart again.

His cadence increased a little and the wet sounds of your bodies patting together were now just as loud as the TV. Though the volume was low, it was still an obvious noise of sex.

Harry put his hands into your hair and cradled your head as he fucked you, looking into your eyes, “I love you so much, Y/n,” his words were shaky breaths and he snorted a little at the end which had you laughing but when he gave you one harsh thrust you yelped and grasped onto his back with your fingers. He didn’t mean to thrust into you so hard but you felt so good. He couldn’t wait to start having sex with you all the time. This was the first time, though, so he really did want to go slow and make it meaningful, make it last and last. But he just knew that he’d be railing you so deep and hard and making you scream the next time. The first time, however, he wanted to show you his feelings, give you all of himself with a slow, decadent fuck and he wanted to savor the way you felt in his arms and on his dick.

Your mind was reeling from how he felt inside of you, the way his body felt over yours, how he made you feel so pretty and so loved, “I love you too, Harry…” you moaned your words and felt yourself being gently rocked upward at each of his plunges.

Harry began to shake a little, he felt his balls tighten and he knew he was going to come soon. He stopped rocking his hips and breathed for a moment to calm down. He wanted you to come first.

“Wanna get on top and ride me?” Harry kissed your lips after he asked and you nodded into his lips.

He quickly pulled out and got onto his back as you climbed over him and sat up. You placed your palms over his chest and Harry put his hands on your outer thighs, loving the view of your tits and your stomach on view for him. He was over the moon. It was also a nice reprieve for him to have you switch positions so he could regain his composure and not come too fast.

Harry watched you as you grasped his cock, wetted hair at the base, and the condom smooth underhand. You would love to feel him without the condom. You’d heard things about the extra friction and heat that could be felt without a condom, but you were just happy to be getting his cock at all.

With one hand on his chest to stabilize yourself and your other one holding his shaft steady, you sink over him slowly and watch the tip slip in. Harry held your hips and watched as your pussy spread for his girth and he twitched as you lowered only an inch. Once you got his head past your entrance, you kept him shallow inside of your cunt as you placed both palms at his chest and moved slowly just over his tip, really feeling the way it opened you up, savoring the thickness of him.

Harry smiled at moved his gaze from where you were connected to your eyes, “Just gonna fuck tip? S’that feel good like that, Y/n?” His voice was deep and strained.

You loved how it felt in fact, “God, Harry… it just feels so good. Just wanna, go like this,” you said as you pushed down over him, getting only a tiny bit deeper before moving back upward so he was nearly all the way out, and then fucking down on his tip again, “for just a minute. It’s so thick.”

Harry closed his eyes at your words. He knew he was large. But hearing you say it while you were naked and your pussy was gripping at his head, the little sounds of your arousal being plunged into, the smell…

Soon, though, you wanted to feel him pushing your wet walls apart again. You wanted him moving your insides around and feeling how much he could stuff you full. You lowered down further until you were seated over his lap with his balls tucked securely under your bottom. You ground over him for a moment, rubbing your clit onto his pelvis.

Harry moved his hands from your waist to your round bottom and he hung on tight as you rode his cock, slicking yourself up and down, with your hips angled to keep your clit in contact with him. It sent electricity through your body when you had his length inside of you this way. It was deeper when you were on top and it ached inside of your body as you moved down over him. You couldn’t help but start tearing up just a little because it was everything you’d wanted for years.  

Harry was silent other than his own breathy grunts each time you moved down over him. He saw how you were getting a little emotional, but he was too. He pulled you down so he could press your lips together and he adjusted his hips and began to gently rock into you from his position. It was soft and slow still, but the springs in your mattress were squeaking in rhythm with his upward thrusts.

It was so intense, the way everything felt in your body, your heart was pounding and your mind was surging with thoughts of complete bliss to be loved in return by Harry. He loved you. He wanted you. His cock was pushing into your pussy and everything just felt so good. Your mouth and his mouth moved slowly, softly as you both moved your hips together.

When you suddenly felt the snap of your orgasm begin to pulse around your middle and the tingle started to spread from your tummy to your clit and then into your vagina, you knew it was going to wreck you. This wasn’t just going to be like the orgasms you achieve by rubbing at your clit quickly in bed each night. Harry's big dick was pressing into your g-spot with ease and the way he was moving into you meant you felt him inside of you and your orgasm was going come from inside of you as well.

Harry felt you begin to quiver and your mouth stopped moving on his when you began pulsing gently over his cock. He increased his speed of upward thrusts just a bit and the bed began to rock a little harder. The sound of wet skin making contact was in rhythm with the springs in your bed and you began to moan a little louder than you should have.

Harry knew you were coming when you began to shift over him faster and began to moan. He tried to put his mouth over yours to keep you quiet but you angled yourself away from him as you gasped and rocked your pussy over his cock, “Fuck, Harry! Holy shit!”

Harry laughed as you clenched his dick and your moans were so loud. He couldn’t stop you, though. And he just hoped your parents couldn’t hear you. You felt so good on him, coming and moaning and shaking in your orgasm.

Harry watched your face with your mouth dropped open and your tits bouncing as you used his cock for your pleasure. He threw his head back into the pillow and smiled as he gasped and spurted into the condom. He was in heaven, coming with you on him, your name falling from his mouth. He loved that his dick made you feel so good you lost control of yourself.

Harry panted and shut his eyes tight as he released his come, his orgasm finally giving him total relief.

You collapsed over him as you began to come down and breathed into his neck with a big smile on your face and a few tears on your cheeks. It was probably the happiest you’d ever been. All in one night Harry had admitted he liked you, then told you he loved you, then fucked you so good you cried. And now he was yours.

Harry rubbed over your back slowly and kissed your temple. He loved this moment. He knew there would be many more like this and it squeezed his heart just thinking of how you were his now.

You pushed yourself by your elbows and looked down at Harry and his disheveled hair. The band that held his bun in place was nowhere to be seen, his chest flushed with a big dimpled smile on his face.

“Harry…” you didn’t have anything in mind to tell him. You just wanted to say his name.

“Y/n…” he said to you as he pinched your bottom and you jumped but he held you down over him so you couldn’t move too far from him.

Everything felt so natural with Harry. So real and so fun and it just made sense now. You’d always been in love with him and he’d always felt the same for you.

You both smiled as you started to laugh again, “That was… the best. I’m gonna need to buy more condoms, though. Because we are doing that again.”

Harry nodded and breathed out a laugh, “Yeah? You wanna fuck me again, Y/n? S’that mean you like me?”

You shook your head and rolled your eyes and clenched down over his cock, squeezing him tight and Harry gasped. You waited for a moment before you responded but then with a smirk on your face and a hand at his temple brushing his hair back you said, “I fucking love you.”

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“Yes.”

“You don’t have to do this. S’a waste of time.”

You shoot him a look and walk over to the bed, where his legs part to let you in because you rarely take no for an answer with him, and he knows this. You put your hands on his shoulders. “That was quite the display at dinner."

Heat rises in his cheeks and his lashes lower. Clearly, he’s been moping, but even when he’s being a sourpuss, he can’t keep his attention off your body for long. Especially when you’ve dressed up for him. Your mouth quirks fondly as you watch him begin to look, both of his hands wandering up to your waist. “This isn’t for Kemp,” he murmurs.

“No.”

You’ve changed since dinner, into a pink silk set and matching peignoir. Each of your guys has a preference for what they like to see you in. Kemp likes you in black, modern lines, breasts served up on the platter of a quarter cup bra. Ari likes nightgowns, Andy likes girlish undies, and Lloyd, well … he likes anything pretty that’ll give under a knife.

Bucky, though. He goes for the soft silk shorts and delicate bralettes that the girls used to wear back in his day. You’ve raided more than one estate sale in your quest for the best-preserved pieces of vintage lingerie out there, the man at the drycleaners now thinks you are a very intriguing person, and you never tire of seeing the nostalgia that fills Bucky's eyes whenever you wear them.

He looks at you the same way he sometimes looks at old Luckies adverts or rotary phones, at fire-escape sunsets and his best pal’s dog tags; like you're something he thought he couldn’t have, another Grable or Hayworth, piece of something good from a home that doesn’t exist anymore.

At your waist his fingers dig in, thumbs swiping back and forth over the silk waistband of the underwear. “It’s not my night,” he mumbles, his mouth twisting into something thin and unhappy. “You should be with him.” He makes to take his hands away, but you stop him by planting your hands firmly over his and giving a squeeze.

“Hush.”

“But Kemp—”

“He’ll keep.”

Tonight was supposed to be Steve's night to have you. He'd cooked one of his fancy dinners, and on the cabin’s primitive cast iron stove, no less—a mouth-watering roast with scalloped potatoes and heirloom carrots, paired expertly with the perfect wine. But the meal had ended in disaster.

“What gets the Winter Soldier’s dick hard anyway? S&M? Oh no wait, I got it—amputation kink!”

“Let me look at you.” You capture Bucky’s right hand and bring it up to examine him for injury. He huffs, but you persist. A few spots on his palm are visibly cut, but already scabbed over. “I thought it looked worse than this.”

He looks away sheepishly. “Serum,” he mutters.

He’s been quiet for most of the day, upset about something, though you haven’t pressed until now. He’d barely spoken a word during dinner. When Lloyd had decided to be a smart ass about tomorrow being Bucky’s night with you, Bucky had overreacted, squeezing right through his stemware and spraying glass shards and merlot all over the table.

“Leave it, Doll,” he says to you now, uncomfortable under your scrutiny. “I’m fine.”

You tut softly in disagreement. “Are you going to tell me what happened? Mm? Or am I gonna have to wring it out of you?" You reach to tuck a strand of his hair behind his ear as you wait him out. He’s showered since dinner, hair damp and curling at the edges, dressed in sweatpants, his feet bare and vulnerable against the cabin’s wood floor. You like him like this, though you’d prefer it be under different circumstances. “I’m waiting.”

He shakes his head with his eyes still lowered and mumbles, "Lloyd's a jerk."

You scoff. "Well we all know that. But it shouldn’t have gotten you that upset.” You cant your head sadly at him. “What aren’t you telling me, baby?"

A muscle in his jaw ticks, and he still won’t look at you, but finally he whispers, "I forgot to pack my patches for the trip. I left 'em at home, so … Haven't had one in almost four days now."

Your lips part in realization. "Oh." Your gaze instinctively drops down to the crotch of his sweatpants, but you look away quickly. His eyes are full of self-deprecation when you meet them, and you know he saw you looking. Your heart clenches with pain for him. It all makes sense now: dinner, why he’s been quiet and trying to push you away, insisting that any time spent with him will be time wasted. “I see,” you say.

He nods dejectedly. "That’s why you shouldn't bother. S’no point, I’m not gonna work right. You should go be with Kemp. At least he can— "

"That’s enough, James."

His eyes shoot back up at the name, wide and fragile in a way that makes you want to hold him tight and never let him go. Sometimes you think that if you had to pick just one of your five, it would be Bucky. Not just because he's damaged and hurting and you apparently have an innate need to soothe that hurt, but because he's been so hurt, by so many and for so long. He deserves you the most, goddammit. Deserves something good and soft that he can cling to and find comfort in; a place for relief and rest, for once in his sorry life.

You sigh, knowing that you need to get him out of his head and make him feel good, allay his fears about his body and his worth. "Okay,” you decide quietly. “Okay, do you have lube?” He hesitates but nods, and you smile and pet his hair. “Do you have anything else?”

He’s shyer to admit that, but your unrelenting attention gets it out of him. “... bedside drawer,” he murmurs.

You reward him with a kiss to his forehead. “Okay. Good, that’s good. Take your clothes off and get up on the bed.”

Slowly, and with visible reluctance, he obeys. The muscles of his shoulders and arms flex as he reaches to pull his tee shirt overhead. You go to the nightstand and slide the drawer open, finding the lube and toys. You try to hide the relief that you feel at seeing them, but it is a relief. If things don't work out tonight, you'll still have what you need to wring an orgasm out of Bucky in other ways.

When you turn back to the bed, he's settled at the headboard, slouched against the pillows so that he’s half sitting, half lying down. He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his sweats, but he pauses, eyes flicking uncertainly back up to you. "... I—"

"Aht.” You shake your head. “Everything.”

He sighs and sheds his pants as well. Finally naked, he looks down at his lap instead of at you, hands balling into fists atop his thighs as he very clearly fights the urge to cover himself. “See?” he grumbles. “It’s not gonna—”

“Shhh. Look at me, baby.” You wait until he does before you reach up to trace your fingers along your collarbone, feathering from one side to the other, then skimming over the tops of your breasts. In typical male fashion, this successfully distracts him, and you simper at how predictable he is. “You know, you haven’t said anything about my outfit, Sergeant,” you tease. Touching the robe’s trim, you slowly edge it off your one shoulder, letting it catch in the crook of your elbow as you push the other side off as well. “Haven’t even told me how pretty I look.” When you straighten your arms, it slithers off your body completely and pools on the floor, and Bucky wets his lips to apologize with a breathy,

“Ma’am.”

You smile. “I wore them just for you, you know.” You climb up onto the bed and crawl to him, settling over his lap with a knee on each side of his hips. You sit back on his thighs. “Tell me I’m pretty,” you whisper.

“Doll …” he says weakly, his bravado slipping the longer you talk to him like he needs. “My meds …” He gazes longingly at your lingerie-clad body. “I can’t—”

“Hush.” You take his face between your hands and kiss away his protests. “No more of that, now. Tonight’s for you, for me to take care of you. That’s what I want. No excuses.” You feel his shiver and you hum knowingly. “So? Are you gonna let me take care of my boy?”

The thing is, you say you have five daddies, but you really have four. For one of them, it's the other way around.

Bucky sighs and nuzzles at the corner of your mouth, holding himself back from truly kissing you. “Mommy,” he breathes, a tiny shudder running through his body, followed by a hurt little noise that goes straight to your cunt. He whimpers as soon as he realizes what he’s said.

You coo and kiss him, delving in with your tongue and forcing him to open for you, to give himself up to what you want. “That’s it,” you encourage, pulling away and sitting back to get a better look at him. More color has risen in his cheeks, his breath is coming just a little heavier, his chest moving with it now that he’s let that word slip. You place one hand on his pec and cup the side of his face with the other. “I love to see you letting go enough for that,” you whisper. “You deserve to feel good, Jamie.” His blush worsens at the name, and you hum. “Go on and touch me now.”

His hands slide from your thighs to your waist, then up to your chest and back down, hovering, like he’s not sure where he wants to touch the most. You push your breasts out for him and watch as his lips part and his eyes go half-lidded. You use his momentary distraction to glance down between his legs, and are unsurprised to find his cock still soft. Four days without testosterone will do that to a man. Poor baby.

You look away before he can notice and get self conscious. “Here,” you say, trailing your hand from his cheek down to his neck and over to his shoulder—the left one. “I said everything, didn't I? Let’s take this off.” Your fingers curl over the metal, notching into the correct placement along the back seam. You wait until he meets your gaze and gives you the nod of surrender you’re looking for. “Good boy,” you purr, pressing into the trigger spots in the way that only you, Bucky, and a couple of women in Wakanda know how to do.

The plates lift and shudder, the arm’s internal mechanisms releasing with a series of whirs and clicks. It detaches from his body and falls into your hand. You set it aside reverently, petting down the inner forearm to the wrist. It’s a beautiful thing, and it’s beautiful on him, but you always find the most genuine, raw version of Bucky to be when he’s brave enough to be without it.

You put your hands on his shoulders and murmur in approval. “There he is.”

His left side looks empty without the prosthetic. You know how exposed it makes him feel, to not have that part of his body on him. You trace over the angry scars that line the anchor site, feeling the rough and smooth texture under the pads of your fingertips. He’d told you once, about his memories of it—the early days of surgeries and grafts and mistakes and revisions. The pain. Seeing the evidence of all that hurt scarred into his body makes you want to envelop him in warmth and comfort and safety forever.

“Just look at you,” you murmur, petting at the swell of his pecs. He’d waxed his chest before this trip, and that tells you that he was indeed looking forward to having sex with you while on vacation. Poor thing, forgetting his medication. It doesn’t bother you one bit, but you know it bothers him. Like most men on the planet, Bucky can’t help but ascribe worth to his penis, and it’s ability—or inability—to get hard.

It’s soft now, where it sits nestled between his thighs. Vulnerable and sweet. You sort of pet at it, tracing the velvety softness with the pads of your fingers, fascinated by the little wrinkle of foreskin at the tip and how delicate that part of him is when the rest of his body is so big and honed and hard. Out of your five guys, Bucky is the only one who isn’t circumcised. Men back in his day weren’t cut like that, he’s told you, always stubbornly glad to at least have avoided having that taken from him.

You curl your palm over his whole cock, cupping it against his body, fingers dipping in to press at the empty space behind. He’s very sensitive there, in the place where they did cut him all those years ago, and his composure stutters when you rub the tips of your fingers back and forth over the scar.

“Please,” he gasps, looking tearfully down at your hand on him. “I-I can’t. I’m sorry. I can’t.”

“Shh sh sh.” You pull your hand away from between his legs and hold his face instead, pulling him into your chest. He buries his face there, whining and nuzzling against your silk-bound cleavage. “Shh,” you soothe, wrapping your arms around his head and rocking him, your fingers sinking into his soft hair. You feel the hitches in his breath and the searching heat of his mouth as he tries to get at your breasts.

“Sorry, sorry,” he pants, apologizing for his body, for things he has no control over.

“It doesn’t matter, baby. Not to me. I just want to make you feel good.”

He whines miserably. “But I can’t make you feel good.”

“Shhh. That’s not true.”

You may or may not be able to coax an erection out of him tonight, but if there’s one thing that Bucky needs more than his own orgasm, it’s yours. Knowing that he’s bringing you pleasure is the one thing that can always chase the shame of his own impotence away.

With that in mind, you tug his hair gently and tell him, “Take my bra off, sweetheart. I want to feel you.”

He obeys with a needy sound, unhooking the bra and easing the straps off your shoulders. You hold him and hum in pleasure as he buries his face in your tits and sucks your breasts hungrily, pulling on your nipples until they’re puffy and sensitive. He gets lost in it, hugging you one-armed around your waist and moaning quietly, “Mmm, mmph, hmm.”

It’s not that Bucky can’t achieve any erection without his meds, it’s just a matter of how far he’ll get. After a while, you notice his hips tensing and releasing in tiny movements. You reach down and cup him again, cooing in encouragement when you feel his body reacting the barest bit. “There we go,” you murmur, fondling him as he thickens in your hand. You worry the foreskin over the head, and sure enough he starts to fatten up under the attention. A healthy blurt of precum wets up your fingers and you chuckle appreciatively. “Aw, lookit that. Big boy.”

He moans in embarrassment, a helpless little, “Mommy,” leaving his lips in protest as you coax him away from your chest.

“Shh, relax. Sit back for me.” You push on his shoulder to force him back against the pillows. “There you go.” You shuffle up close in his lap and push your hips forward, holding his cock up against the front of your panties.

“Oh God,” he moans.

“Mmhm. That’s it, baby. Lookit that.”

“Fuck,” he breathes. His hand curls over your hip, pulling you in closer, his fingers digging into your softness as he stares at where you’re rubbing him against yourself. “Please,” he whispers, begging for your touch just as much as he’s begging for his body to work the way he wants it to. “Oh, please, please …”

“Shh, I’ve got you.” You rock your hips the barest bit and his precum smears against the silk, making a dark patch right over the hood of your clit. “Oh my god, look at that.” You hold him and rub the head firmly against your clit, back and forth, sighing at how nice it feels. “Oh, James.”

He groans and paws at your waist, trying to pull you closer. You chuckle and coo at his neediness, pleased when you see his cock pulse again. “Aw, baby, is it getting harder? I think it is. You must really like humpin’ on Mommy’s panties, huh?”

“Shit,” he curses, hips jerking forward. “Nnn, yes., shit …”

You push on his shoulder with your free hand. “Lie back more. There you go.” You let his cock go and line your clothed sex up with his length, letting your weight come down. Both of you groan at the pressure. You grab onto his shoulders and capture his mouth in a filthy kiss as you spend a few moments just rocking luxuriously against him, back and forth, enjoying the way the silk glides and using his body to make yourself feel good. “Fuck, baby,” you breathe. “Oh, Jamie. M’getting wet, Sweetheart, you feel that? See how good you’re making me feel? Such a good boy.” It doesn’t take long until the crotch of the panties is soaked through with your own arousal. “Baby,” you exhale shakily against his mouth. “Aw baby, does that feel good?” He whines and nods his head tightly, and you coo in response. “I know. I can feel how much you like it.” Really, he’s only half hard, but it’s enough for you to take hold of him and pull the edge of your panties aside, slip him in there and,

“Oh my god.”

“Mmhm.” You pull on his hair to force his head down and make him watch. You give tiny little pulses of your hips, working him inside the panties, the fabric gripping him and sliding over his cock like it’s jerking him off. You cup your hand over the panties from the outside and keep rocking, humming and cooing at every devastated sound he makes. “Yeah,” you purr. “Oh yeah. Does that feel good, Sweetheart? So smooth and silky. Rubbin’ on mommy’s pussy. Can feel you bumpin’ my clit in there.” You take your hand away so he can watch the show of his cock inside your panties, smiling when he gives another devastated moan.

Men; such visual creatures.

He makes a horribly disappointed noise when you move to climb off of him, but you’re quick to pull the panties off and return, kneeling over his slouched form again. He grabs your waist, whining needily, and you soothe him with gentle sounds. “Shhh sh sh. I got you.”

“Please,” he begs. “Please. I’m good. I’m good.”

“Yes you are, baby. So good. Shh. I’ve got you. Gonna take care of everything.” His cock looks like it might almost be hard enough for penetration. You give it a few furtive strokes, worrying your thumb wetly underneath the head. A fresh blurt of precum wets up your hand and it visibly twitches, and you don’t waste any more time. You cant your hips forward and angle him towards your entrance, rubbing back and forth along your slit until he catches. “Oh! Theere we go. Oh, good boy.”

“Ogn!” Bucky sobs beneath you, desperate and scared that it won’t work. “Please, please, please,” he begs, eyes screwed shut. “I can’t. I-I can’t—”

“Shhh.” You kiss him to try and help it along, hips pressing down as your hand abandons its guiding hold on his cock. He’s inside you, just barely hard enough to hold onto it, so you don’t pull up. You stay seated and rock your hips in tiny motions, working him inside and trying to keep him seated long enough to give him some stimulation, trying to clench down on him and keep him hard enough. “There you go, baby, there you go …”

“Oghhnn…”

You’re able to grind on him for a few moments before you lose him, Bucky’s sob cutting through the air as he slips from your entrance.

“Nnnh! Oh no, no, hnn!—”

“Shhh. It’s okay, it’s okay.” You cradle his face and kiss him, trying to calm him down. A glance downwards shows his cock lying there, wet and fat against his belly, but not quite there for what he wants. Bucky sobs and you try to soothe his mournful cries. “Shh sh sh, baby. It’s okay. It doesn’t matter.” You know he’s embarrassed and frustrated, that he wants to be able to fuck you. But that’s clearly not in the cards tonight and you grip his shoulders to get him to calm down and listen to you. “It’s okay. Relax, James. Just take a deep breath.” You trace the side of his face affectionately. “Hey. We can still do this.”

He moans miserably, disagreeing, but you just line your cunt up against his length and start rubbing on him again. “Watch me,” you order, and he does, some of his frustration leeching away when he takes in the sight of your wet folds dragging over his cock.

“Oh,” he groans quietly. “Oh, … fuck.”

“Yeah,” you agree shakily, moving your hips so your clit rubs right on his glans. “F-fuck, baby. That feels so, oh, so good.”

His attention shifts to your face as he can tell that you’re starting to get close. He catches your gaze with dark, eager eyes and sits up straighter to lean into you. “Yeah?” he breathes. You whine and nod and he growls, fingers digging into your hip to help guide you, rocking you harder against him. “You gonna cum?”

You nod shakily. “Y-yeah, Bucky, ohn …”

Seeing you taking pleasure from his body bolsters him, sparking something purely male in his gaze, eager to make you come. “Do it,” he purrs, leaning in to drag his lips against yours and egg you on, “Go on, mommy, grind it. Make yourself cum on my cock, soak my lap, lemme feel it.” He grabs the tip of your breast and thumbs furiously back and forth over your nipple in that filthy way that always gets you close.

“Oh!” you gasp, “James!” You grab at his shoulders and grind hard on him as your cunt pulses and everything aligns: your lips spread on his cock, clit rubbing right there on the head, the pressure and the slide and his voice in your ear and his hand on your tit—

You cry out as your hips stutter into a series of hard, desperate jerks. You grab his head and hold onto him, fingers dug into his hair as you whine through clenched teeth and ride it out greedily. “Oh, God, ohn, ffuck yeah, nnn…”

His arm wraps around you and holds impossibly tight, both anchoring you and rocking you through it. And all the while he groans and encourages you with words husked into your skin—hot, rambling things that sound like praise and satisfaction, sliding into disjointed bursts of a foreign language:

"Vot i vse, malyshka." (that's it baby)

Tak khorosho. Tebe tak khorosho so mnoy, mamochka." (So good. you feel so good, mommy)

Lyublyu tebya, lyublyu tebya." (love you, love you)

You don’t speak a word of Russian, but somehow you understand completely.

Masterlist

This has been a fill for @mcukinkbingo

card: sarahyellow

square B1: castration/penectomy

You clear your throat. “You don’t…you don’t have to say it back. I just wanted you to know.”

There’s another long lull between your admission and his response. He shifts in your arms before finally he finally nods once.

And that suffices as his reply.

Truth be told, you feel relieved. You aren’t even sure why you said it at all, much less now. And after such an intimate scene. Especially when you knew he most likely wouldn’t say it back.

But you don’t blame him for that. Mr. Styles has never been the overly romantic, affectionate type. You don’t expect that to change just for you. You’re happy with the relationship you have. You like that you stay at his apartment more than your own. You like that he dedicates his free time to you. And you like that you work together and play together.

He’s more than just your partner and your boss. He’s…yours.

“Sir?” you whisper, and you feel his hand tighten around yours. “Are you all right?”

He nods again. Quickly. Strained. “I’m fine, Peach. Are you?”

You nod, too. “Mhm. I’m better now. Promise.” A beat. “Could we start the scene again?”

He lets out a sigh and finally looks up to catch your eye. “Maybe later. We’ll see.”

You pout and feel that anxious twist in your stomach return. You don’t want to end this moment on a sour note. The note where you had to safe word and make him stop only to tell him you love him and surely freak him out. You want to go back. Start it all over again. Do it right.

He notices your frown and tilts his head. “Peach,” he warns. “Don’t.”

“But—”

“I said we’ll see,” he repeats sternly. “If you’re good, I’ll consider it. But if you want to argue with me, you can sit here, achy and dripping, with nobody to touch you.”

You bite back a whine. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl.” He pats your hip. “I’ve got a few more emails to answer before dinner. If I go, will you be all right until I’m done?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He takes hold of your chin. Firm. “I want your honesty.”

“You have it.”

He hesitates. There’s a tension here, between you. An unspoken strain and an edge you’d give anything to smooth out.

You can tell he wants to resolve it. He’s a problem solver. It’s in his nature to fix things. And that’s how this whole arrangement was started in the first place.

But how can he fix what he knows he broke?

He kisses your cheek. Quickly. Gently. “Be good while I’m gone.”

And with that, he leaves you. He turns off the camera, puts his clothes back on, and disappears into his home office.

You spend the next several hours trying not to stare at his closed door. Or thinking about how it ended. What you said. You delete the footage off the SD card and vow to never speak of this day again.

He feels so far away, even if it’s only a few hundred feet. But there’s an ocean between you now and you are lost in his sea. 

Dinner is good. You order Chinese and it’s delivered right as he’s exiting his office for the night. You do your best to put things back to the way they were before. You talk—a lot—and he listens. He’s quiet. Nodding along without much commentary. He picks at his food and you know something is still on his mind.

You hate it.

He cleans up while you go take a shower. You take your time, allowing the water to wash away your regret. Make you clean again. Until each mistake has been swept down the drain.

The two of you will be okay. You have to be.

When you get out, you find him on the bed. He’s got his reading glasses on and a book in his hand and he looks…

Ethereal.

You’ve always been attracted to him. How could you not be, when he has a jaw like that and abs that could grate cheese? But somehow, he looks even better like this—relaxed. At peace. He’s still wearing his fancy slacks and white button up. But the sleeves have been rolled to his elbows and he’s left the first few buttons undone. 

You step further into the bedroom and he doesn’t seem to notice. He’s engrossed in his novel, glasses perched on the tip of his perfect nose as he flips to the next page. And you smile. Your insides already aching as you crawl onto the end of the mattress and allow your towel to fall away.

When the bed dips, he glances up. Briefly. He notices the feral look in your eye and the way you’re moving toward him. He knows what you want and thankfully, he doesn’t deny you.

He looks back to his book. “How was your shower?”

“Good,” you murmur. You reach for his belt and slip it through each loop until you can toss it toward the floor.

He’s quiet.

“How’s your book?” you ask and he hums.

“It’s all right. Not entirely helpful but I like the subject.”

You grin. You adore when he sounds studious. “That’s good.” You pull his zipper down and reach inside his briefs. 

Still, he doesn’t so much as flinch. He reads and he pretends as though you aren’t currently dragging your palm along his hardening cock. He pretends your tits aren’t mere inches from his grasp and he pretends that he can’t see the way you’ve already begun to drip.

You take him in your mouth. Your tongue is wet and ready and you swing your leg over his thigh in order to brace yourself against his lap and take him fully. He’s large. Incredibly large and you forget that sometimes until you feel the way he curves down your throat. 

You pull back and spit only to watch the way it drips down his length until you can smear it around the way you want.

“Peach,” you hear him say and you look up. He moves the book aside to see you. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” 

He reaches down and pinches your cheek. “Watch it,” he warns and he’s strict but somehow kind. “I thought I told you to wait.”

“I did wait,” you argue before sucking on his tip. You pop off and lick your lips. “All day. Couldn’t wait any longer.”

“Hm.” He moves his hand to the back of your head and tugs you away. “I’m not sure I should let you.”

“…why?” You straighten up. “I’m okay now. I want to do this. And you never got to finish—”

“Peach—”

“—which I know isn’t the point,” you amend quickly, remembering what he said before. “I know. But I want to make you finish. I want to make you feel good. Especially after what you did for me.”

He frowns now. Sighs. Takes off his glasses and sets down his book. “I’m your dominant and your partner. It is my job to take care of you. I don’t do it because I want something in return and my kindness is not transactional. I care about you. I want you to be okay. Always.”

I care about you isn’t exactly an I love you but it still makes you smile. Really, really big.

“I know,” you whisper. You squeeze his thigh. “But I feel…edged.”

He smirks. “Do you?”

“Mhm.” You dip back down and drag your tongue up from his balls. You notice his jaw tick. “And if you really want to take care of me and make sure I’m okay…you’ll cum in my mouth.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He considers this, fingers tapping over the hard cover of his book. Then, he nods once, and slips his glasses back on. “All right. I’ll let you have your way just this once. But once you’re through, you’re to get into this bed and go to sleep. Is that understood?”

You nod eagerly. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl. Go ahead.”

With that, you continue your sucking and fondling while he continues reading his novel. The bedroom is eerily silent except for the loud echo of your wet, enthusiastic lapping at the large cock sitting proudly on your tongue. And you wouldn’t have it any other way. Even if won’t give you your own orgasm before bed, you’re content to have him just like this.

It doesn’t take long until he’s twitching in your mouth. He doesn’t look at you or watch the way your cheeks hollow or the way his balls look in your pretty hands, but you know he’s desperate to. You can tell by the way he turns the page. The way he grips the book and tries incredibly hard not to rip it in half as he moves to the next chapter. 

You don’t slow. You keep going, even as his legs flex beneath you. As his chest takes in labored breaths. You want to get him there and he subtly nudges his leg further into your cunt to feel your arousal smear across his skin. 

You do everything you know he likes, even though the camera is off. You suck and squeeze and give him everything you know he likes. Because this performance is just for him. The way you moan, the way you swallow, the way you bob and take more of him than you think you ever have before.

You’re his good girl. His investment, his toy, his.

And moments before he finally releases himself all down your throat, he tosses the book aside, grabs a fistful of your hair, and yanks you off.

“Get on,” he grits and tugs you closer.

You don’t need to be told twice. You scoot forward and line him up just so before he takes hold of your hips and helps you sink down. Things move quickly and he doesn’t have the patience to wait any longer. 

And it’s beautiful, this moment. The way he stretches you open. And even if there’s a slight burn from the intrusion of his thick cock, you revel in the pain. Both of you groaning the moment you feel it.

And you know he won’t be able to hold off much longer.

“How did it taste, Peach, hm?” he asks as he fucks up into you. “How did it feel to have me in your mouth?”

“Good,” you pant. You claw at his curls. “So good, Sir—”

“Yeah?” He slaps his hand against your ass and you mewl. “Like to take my cock, don’t you? Like to be my dirty little slut—"

“Yes—”

“Like to feel me down your throat…have me cum all over your tongue.”

You make too many noises and he reaches up to pull your lip with his teeth. He kisses you and groans into your mouth and this is what sex should be. Rough and hard but filled with adoration.

“What a fucking whore,” he groans. He tugs at your hips. Watches the bulge in your belly with every thrust. “Begging to suck my cock, wanting to make Daddy feel good…guess I don’t give your mouth enough things to do, hm?”

You shake your head and wilt in his hold. He rarely refers to himself with that nickname and hearing it now almost tips you over.

“So fucking wet,” he exhales and you look down to watch with him. “S’fucking pathetic, isn’t it? Didn’t even have to touch you to have you dripping.”

He’s right. He always is.

He pinches your clit. Takes your nipple in his mouth and lets his large hands scratch down your back—your shoulders blades, your spine, your ass. And you have never felt safer than here in this moment with him.

“Cum,” he says, and he nips at your skin until it’s littered in marks and memories.

“Cum,” he whispers, and he pulls on your hair and wraps it around his fist to bare your throat to his teeth.

“Cum,” he pleads, and he kisses you—hard—until the room is spinning and you finally let go.

You unravel together. A collection of moans and cries and tangled limbs as you make a mess of each other. And you don’t care—about any of it. About what was said earlier, about what wasn’t said, about the way he looked when you said it.

You cling to his strong shoulders and you kiss him hard and you indulge in the feel of him dripping from your cunt.

But he’s not through. He pulls you off his cock and flips you onto your knees until your ass in the air.

You feel his tongue. Dragging up your cunt, tasting the remains of his cum, your cum, everything. He spanks you—hard. Paints his mark across your skin and leaves it there just so he can admire it.

“Say it,” he hisses and you suck in a sharp breath.

“Wha…what?”

“Say it,” he says. He spanks you again and nips at your pussy. “Say you love me.”

You clutch the duvet and your thighs are shaking. Your mind feels fuzzy. “I…”

Another slap to your ass and you’re overstimulated and wildly sensitive. He fucks his tongue into your dripping hole and grunts at the way you keen and you’ve never felt this kind of beautiful confusion.

“Say it.” He holds your thighs open and nearly suffocates himself as he mouths at you. “Fucking tell me you love me. Tell me again.”

You shake your head. You don’t understand. “Harry…”

Wrong. He slips his fingers inside and fucks his cum back into you. Fast. Lewd. Loud. “Come on, Peach. I know you want to. Know you do….so say it.”

And maybe this is a trick. Maybe this is some cruel, sadistic game just to make you lose but you can’t think straight when he’s this close. When he’s bending your body to his salacious intentions and treating you like a toy.

“I love you,” you whisper. You screw your eyes shut. “I do, I love you, Sir.”

He curses. Groans. “Again.”

“I love you.” You fall onto the bed stomach first but he doesn’t stop. He flips you around and he looks at you as he eats you. “I love you, Mr. Styles.”

His lashes flutter. You reach for his hair and tug it with your fist and he moans into your cunt before drinking you down. Spitting on your pussy just to smear it around and thrust it back into you.

You arch. “Shit, I love you—I—”

You cum again and he enjoys every second of it. He pulls you as close to his face as he can get you and lives inside the sound of your strained whimpers.

And when you finish, he leaves your clit with a satisfied pop and licks his lips. You watch him crawl up your body until he’s settled atop your chest and you smile lazily as he reaches up to run his hand down your cheek.

“My sweet Peach,” he whispers and kisses you hard. You taste everything. You taste him. You taste the desperation woven alongside his tongue. He kisses you until you can’t breathe and he only stops so he can stare at you a little longer.

You brush your fingers through the damp curls along the back of his neck. “That was fun.”

He’s quiet. Studying you closely and you feel as though you’re being graded on a test you didn’t know you were taking. 

Then, he murmurs, “I don’t say it.”

Your heart skips. You don’t have to ask what he means. “I…I know. It’s okay. I don’t expect you—”

“I don’t say it because I’m afraid I can’t live up to it,” he continues. He ignores you. “Because the last time I did, I couldn’t deliver on what it meant. My love didn’t look the same as hers did. I said it. And she still left.”

Your other hand finds his shirt. You trail your touch over the exposed skin of his chest and you feel the way his heart races. “I know.”

His brows furrow. “I want to say it,” he says softly. “I want to. For you. Because I do. And I don’t want this to feel unfair—”

“It doesn’t,” you assure him. “I promise. I…I figured you wouldn’t say it back and I was okay with that. Because it doesn’t change the fact that I do.”

Another beat. “I’m worried you didn’t mean it.”

“What?”

He sighs and sweeps his thumb along your jaw. “You’d been anxious, and you were scared. You said none of your other partners had ever been kind to you in moments like that, and…sex is intimate. It can change the chemistry in your brain and maybe…maybe you didn’t mean it—”

“I did.” You grab his face and you make him listen. “Harry, I meant it. I still mean it. And I’ll mean it tomorrow, too. And the next day. And the next.”

His expression softens.

“And I meant it long before today. I wanted to tell you tons of times and I didn’t because…I don’t know. I didn’t want to scare you,” you admit and you both smile. “It is a big word. But it’s just a word. It means nothing without action. And even if you can’t say it, you show it every day. And that’s all I could really want.”

He dips down and nuzzles his nose against yours. “I don’t deserve you, Peach.”

“No,” you tease. “No, you don’t.”

You kiss again and his body feels good against yours. His heart feels good against yours.

Then, he exhales, "I love you."

And you don't say anything. But you smile. Because you know everything he's giving up just to offer you what you want to hear.

Minutes go by before you finally change the subject and say, "You know, I kind of wish we'd been recording all that. That would have been some great content."

He laughs, relieved, and the sound is so incredibly beautiful. 

“Next time,” he says and you grin as he holds you closer. “Tonight…your love belongs to me.”

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY CUTIES!!! Granted, this wasn't exactly a Valentine's blurb BUT LISTEN IT WAS CLOSE ENOUGH!!!!! ASLFJSF

I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH and hope you're having the best day! No matter what it looks like or who it's with ♥️

~ Full One for the Money Masterlist

~ Full Masterlist

Credit for the incredible and perfectly peachy dividers to @firefly-graphics!!

The water was impossibly blue, the weather was perfect and their boat was heavenly. He’d never been on a vacation quite like this. He’s actually been to Italy for a bit when he did an exchange program, but he hadn’t been able to just relax. He’d spent his time exploring and studying when he was here, picking up the language, learning the people, his surroundings. There wasn’t time to just… be

A week back in Italy with the best food, a private boat and villa and the most beautiful woman he had ever met, all expenses paid? He would be a fool to turn that down. All he needed to do was help her unwind. That meant hiding her work phone from her, massaging her shoulders, letting her sleep on him like she was now, and giving her every bit of affection and sex that she could possibly want.

‘You work so hard, darling. Deserve a break. I’ll take care of you.’ Was what he had told her when they boarded the boat, kissing her lips as he felt her hands grip his shorts. They had been particularly slutty this trip, something he really liked. His new brand of shorts were cut closer on the thigh, in a variety of colors. Y/N had appreciated them greatly.

It was after the first round of sex that day that Y/N requested they spend some time up on the deck. The warmth was welcome to her, he could tell. It was his job to relax her, to keep her sane, and he liked to think he did a pretty good job of it- both with his words and his cock. This time, though, he could tell she had been particularly drained from work and he made it his mission to keep her as relaxed as possible. Their drinks sat on the ledge behind them, condensation sweating the glasses. Y/N’s book was abandoned with a bookmark haphazardly placed in it, her cheek pressed against his bicep.

The concept of a midday nap for her was unheard of. Harry had been with her for a while now, and in his time knowing her he had never experienced it. That’s how he knew she was really exhausted. Fingers stroked the hair from her face with his opposite hand, simply observing her as she slept. A soft vulnerability was painted on her features as her guard was completely down. In her sleep, Harry could see just how sweet she could look. In everyday life, she was a very powerful and merciless businesswoman. She was wealthy beyond his comprehension and she had gotten to that point because she took no prisoners. She had to, in order to get what she wanted. He’d seen firsthand her cold demeanor and her stoic, practiced words when she was at work and they’d be interrupted.

No one besides Harry had ever seen the woman beg for anything. No one had seen tears drip down her face when she was overstimulated, no one had seen how mushy she got after an entire night of hot sex where he took care of her. Despite the fact that they switched around who was in charge and he very much loved being a good boy for her, Harry liked seeing her soften up for him. Being exposed to a side of one of the country’s most powerful people that no one else had gotten the chance to see? It made him feel powerful all in himself.

When their arrangement had started, she had taken the reigns for the most part. She’d needed to get comfortable with him, which had taken some time. The first night he had taken over control had been a bit of a power struggle, but she took to it well after getting a real taste of what Harry could do.

Being able to comfort her, even in moments like this, made him smile.

“I can feel you staring.” Y/N voice slurred against the skin of his arm, rubbing her nose against it as she shifted to tuck her face into his neck. “Rude.”

Harry’s heart warmed with the rays of the sun, turning slightly so he was facing her before gathering up her sleepy form in his arms. “How could I not stare? When the lioness is asleep, it’s the best time to observe the beauty.” Lips pressed against her warm forehead, letting her leg tighten around his waist. Looking down, he could see some of the bruises he had left on her silky skin. Fingerprints on her thighs, a few on her hips. A sense of satisfaction went through him as he felt her lips give a chaste peck to his throat, exhaling heavily. He had done this. He got to experience this woman fully.

“Lioness? I’d say Tigress, if anything.” Her sleepy laugh made him smile. “How long was I out?” Stretching her body out, she shook for a second before curling back up against his side. It did things to his heart that he didn’t want to talk about.

“An hour.” His fingers returned to her waist, rhythmically dragging up and down the curve of it. “Passed right out. You’re exhausted, love.” It was a bit concerning. Y/N handled pressure very well, stress even better since Harry had entered her life- but he could see some cracks forming before they’d left. “M’glad you took us here. You needed a break. I worry about you.” He spoke against her hair, knowing she didn’t like it when he worried.

“I’m okay.” Her voice was soft. “I… I remembered what you’d said about feeling a breaking point coming and doing something about it before you reach it. I was there.” Opening up wasn’t easy for her in the slightest, but Harry had been her confidant for a bit now. He never judged her, always stressed the importance of mental health along with her physical. “I just wanted to go somewhere we could just relax. It’s still hard for me.”

That much, Harry knew all too fucking well. Y/N was always wound up tight. She was coiled like a snake for most of her day. Being a woman in her position, unfortunately she had to be. She had to work twice as hard and be twice as defensive because men were awful and believed they deserved her position, her success more simply because they were men. It was sick and wrong but Harry understood why she had to feel on the guard all the time.

“I know it is.” The reply was soft. “But m’teaching you, aren’t I?” He was a very relaxed person now that he didn’t have to work at the bar. He was able to work on his music, do his yoga, bake his treats, and focus on this fucking gorgeous woman’s pleasure. For some, it wouldn’t be fulfilling. For Harry? It was a dream come true. He loved teaching her how to relax.

“You’re doing a good job.” Y/N chuckled, pulling her face from the refuge of his neck. “Got a pretty boy with equally as pretty words to help me with that.” Her own fingers came up to stroke the facial hair sprouting on his face. She was a very big fan of it, he was finding out. He hadn’t shaved in a few days and she seemed mesmerized.

“Just pretty?” He smiled, feeling her finger pop into his dimple. “I’d prefer… beautiful. Gorgeous. Ruggedly handsome, even. Sexy is acceptable too.” The quips were met with a laugh from the woman, face tilting up and catching his lips.

Harry was pleasantly surprised. Y/N was shy with her kissing at times. It wasn’t that she didn’t like it- she reacted with her whole body when he kissed her- but she didn’t initiate it too much. The opportunity was not going to be wasted. His mouth responded immediately, a happy hum leaving his throat. Fingers gripped her thigh and pulled her tighter against him as she shyly brushed his tongue against hers. Impressive. She was making a lot of the first moves, and he was ecstatic about it.

She tasted like orange juice, the mimosa’s from breakfast back on her tongue. Harry was taking in every bit of it, one hand curled around the back of her neck while the other kept her thigh against his hip, languid greed encompassing the kiss as he took a bit of the control away from her. There was that buzzing in his stomach, cock thickened as her body heat outshined the sun. In the middle of the boat, he didn’t have a care in the world other than keeping her satisfied.

“Mmm.. S’sweet.” He mumbled against her lips, going back in for more. “Open that pretty mouth f’me. Don’t be shy. I want everything from you.” He was going to milk this for everything he could. Her fingers slid into his hair, the manicured nails gently grazing his scalp and making him groan loudly. Chills flushed on his skin as he pulled her closer, cock pulsing in the shorts as he felt her arch into him. She knew what that did to him, the minx.

His tongue found hers before he sucked on it lightly, fingers diggling into her thigh as he pulled back just a bit. He felt her fingers tug on his hair again, trying to pull his mouth back to her own. It was refreshing to feel her need for him. “You’re starting something, darling.” He warned slowly. “M’not going to stop it if you continue.”

“Don’t.” Was her reply, pushing herself further against him. “We can do anything.”

Harry was surprised by her response. They definitely weren’t fully alone, but no one would come out on to the deck if they weren’t requested. Y/N had asked for privacy beforehand. The crew of the large boat stayed below deck… And honestly? Harry didn’t give a fuck if someone from another boat saw them. He was going to take this opportunity to pleasure his woman.

Rolling them over, he heard her squeak as he hovered on top of her. Eyes opened, the lusty haze making her grin as his body was backlit from the sun. He looked like her own personal angel. Swollen pink mouth and scruffy face, he was sent directly from wherever wet dreams originated from to be the one that took care of her.

“Filthy girl.” He whispered. “S’that what you want? Do you want me to do whatever I want to you?” He leaned his nose against her nose, brushing the skin as she nodded.

“Yes.” The word was breathy, unlike her normal cadence.

Harry grinned that filthy grin that made Y/N’s cunt clench around nothing, the promise of more in his eyes making her blink up at him. She had worked so hard, kept it together so well.. All she wanted to do was fall apart under him. Be dirty, take a risk for once in her controlled life. They’d fucked around many places, but she could see other boats not too far away. She knew it was risky.

“Oh, sweet fucking girl. You’ll let me tug this top off?” He questioned, tugging the cups of her bathing suit down slowly to give her a chance to say no. She didn’t. He pulled the fabric over her pebbled nipples, grunting in his throat as he took a look at her beautiful tits on display for him. “Hm.. Beautiful girl. That’s what you are.” Dipping down her body, he showed no hesitation taking one of her nipples into his mouth.

Sucking on the bud, he heard her gasp and fingers grip his hair as he methodically pulled the sensitive nipple into his mouth, brushing his tongue against it. So warm, her skin smelled like her body wash and salt from the ocean as he lathed his tongue over it again. Teeth brushed it ever so slightly as he pulled back, eliciting a gasp from her before he switched breasts with a satisfied groan.

Yes. This is what his girl needed. His sweet, overworked, filthy minded girl. His cock was dripping into his shorts, the risk of the situation and her need for him arousing him more than he had been in a long time.

“More.” She whimpered. The one word was enough to get him to pause, looking at her with his blown out eyes. Mournfully releasing her nipple again, his wet lips opened to speak to her.

“More? Are you asking for me to fuck you, pretty baby?” His low tone made her clit throb, nodding frantically as she felt him press his fingers against her covered cunt. The bathing suit did little to hide her arousal. He could feel her heat, feel the slickness of her, and he knew he needed to take her. Now. “Yeah? Y’want me to tug this to the side and slip right in?” He spoke against her lips, pressing a kiss there before moving to her jaw. “Want my cock tucked up inside you, nice n’snug?”

Fingers tugged the fabric to the side, leaving her slick cunt exposed to the ocean air. To him. She shuddered under him as she peeled her eyes open, watching in anticipation as his hand went for his shorts between them. Slipping them down just enough to expose himself, he grit his teeth. “Hm?” His voice prodded her. He was covering her body, sure, but it would be obvious what they’d be doing.

Her body jolted when he tapped the ruddy tip of his leaking cock against her cunt, nestling it between her slit while he got himself wet.

“Yes.” She had been reduced to a beg. Y/N was usually much more talkative, much more of a tease, but she couldn’t be right now. This was exactly what the woman wanted. She wanted Harry to take over and make her forget all of her troubles. “Please. Just do it.”

Harry didn’t need much convincing.

She was still a bit sensitive from their sex when they’d woken up, a broken whimper leaving her throat as she felt the tip press into her. It was embarrassing how wet she was just from this. The man had made it near impossible to not be affected by his presence and she was too tired to pretend she wasn’t.

Harry’s cock was thick and long and the perfect size to fuck her dumb. To make her mind shut up about anything other than how good it felt. After long days in the office, it’s exactly what she’s needed. It was no different now, eyes falling shut as her head rolled back, legs closifn around his hips to urge him deeper. There was no need to fake that she wasn’t greedy.

“Fuck.” Harry grunted, feeling himself bury into her. “You needed it again. My poor girl. Needed me to take care of you.” He pressed his mouth against hers again before slowly moving, grinding inside of her as her fingers tugged the hair at the nape of his neck. It was a tight, wet paradise being locked inside of her. Shallow thrusts, feeling her clench up around him, he slipped a hand under her head to hold the back of her neck.

“Needed me so bad that you’re taking my cock right in front of everyone. What a filthy, nasty girl you are. So desperate for my prick to be buried in that sweet little pussy all over again that… you don’t even care if you’re caught.” He was working her up. Dirty talk got to her. Stimulated her in a way that he knew she wouldn’t admit to loving when she wasn’t hanging off his cock, but when she was?

She ate it up. Every crumb.

Legs stayed tight around him as he moved slowly, so fucking deep that she could cry. This was what she needed. Harry was right. She was desperate and dirty and she didn’t care if people were even right next to them, she had wanted him to be inside of her more than anything. This was her escape.

“No, my dirty girl just wants to soak me again. You want people to see how wet you get around me? How filthy and sticky you leave my cock every time I pull out? It goes right down to my thighs, you know.” His velvety voice was wrapped around her head. “You’re not happy unless m’balls deep inside of you. Greedy thing.” He crooned, feeling a bit more of her slick coating his cock. Fuck, he was obsessed. “ But this is a newer development. You’ve always like the idea of someone seeing but… they definitely can right now.”

It got to him, too. His dick was swallowed in her sweet relief, but he knew he wouldn’t last too long. Despite the slow thrusts, they were deep and a bit rough, moving her slightly when he bottomed out. Each thrust was rewarded with a squeak, a moan, a whimper. He was addicted to hear what noise he got next.

“They can see it, baby. If they turn their heads, if they look over, they can see you being fucked. Clinging to me, keeping me close. There’s no way they will be able to mistake it.” Despite the fact he eas covering her and his shorts weren’t fully down, the movements made it obvious. Harry’s always been into adventurous sex, always been into exhibitionism, but it was different here. It sent a heady zing right to his cock. Being a show off, an attention whore, he was in his prime.

“Harry…” she whispered, head tilting back as he bit down on the lobe of her ear. “I can’t. M’gonna cum if you t-talk like that.” She was going to regardless. The sweet press into her spot, his spot really, was perfect. There had been worry that maybe he wouldn’t be able to get her off at the beginning of when they met- no man had properly done it before- but he had exceeded all expectations. He was hers. She was keeping this man as long as she possibly could. He was perfection. Indulging in her like this was just one of the many reasons.

“You’d cum if I was silent. Your cunt loves my cock. Doesn’t she? Loves to be fucked in any way. On your knees, your stomach, riding me… but especially when people can see it.” He licked over her neck, the filth of it making her nails dig into the back of his neck. The stab of pain made him moan, moving a bit harder. It wasn’t fast, wasn’t hurried in the slightest. It was lazy and hot and so goddamn good.

“Yes. I love it. I-I want them to see.” She admitted in a slightly slurred voice, the pleasure already building up with his thrusts. Like sparks over her body. “Want them to watch. I’m gonna-“ she couldn’t finish the word, one of the thrusts stealing her breath.

“I know you want that, my filthy slut. Such a little whore for me.” He laughed, breathy and hot as he covered her lips back with his own. He was about to cum. He could feel her begin to quiver around him. “Going to soak my cock and let them see? So fucking dirty. Letting me fuck you out on this deck, not a care about anything other than getting filled. S’gonna make me cum too.” He looked at her with hazy eyes. The sweat on her forehead, the stickiness of their skin under the hot Italian sun.

All of this was erotic.

“Let go for me, angel.” He decided to pull out the language he knew she loved, nestled against her lips. “Voglio sentirti Bella ragazza. sempre così perfetto. Lascia che mi prenda cura di te, sempre.”

Y/N couldn’t stop it. The rasp of his voice, the Italian falling off his tongue, she came with an intensity she didn’t expect. Mouth falling open as he stole her breath, she finally expelled a moan as she came all over him. Slicked up, creamy and hot, she pulled him in and tried to push him away as the orgasm was worked through.

Harry wasn’t far behind, gritting his teeth as he cursed. His balls tight, he released the heavy load into her cunt, stuttered movement of his hips making him grunt with each finishing stroke. He painted her walls white, pushing it in deep as he groaned against her mouth. Breathing each other in, the movement stopped.

Y/N was full in every sense of the word, legs loosening but staying wrapped around him as her body loosened all its limbs. It was exactly the thing she had needed.

“You okay?” He asked softly, nudging his nose back against hers before pressing chaste kisses to the corners of her lips and the heated cheeks. “Did so good. Fucking perfect, as usual.” His praises made her lips quirk in a smile, returning a chaste peck before falling back to her blissed out features.

“Mhm. Perfect, actually.” Her response was a giggle, the relaxation back on her face. “But I’d like you to stay inside me for a bit.”

Harry rose a brow, trying to keep his softening erection at bay. “Will you behave? I need the nap now.” He needed a bit of time before going again- though keeping himself warm on her cock was a very nice addition to the day.

“Probably not. But I’ll let you sleep for a bit on my chest before I bother you for some more.” She replied, carding her fingers through his slightly sweat damp hair. His forehead fell against her shoulder, shaking in a laugh as he kissed the skin.

Perhaps for some, it could be considered intense, but he knew what he wanted in life. He knew he loved her by their 4th date, he knew he wanted to marry her by the 7th, and now they'd been committed to one another for about 6 months. It was incredible to have someone you just.... know is yours.

They were a bit opposite, Y/N and him. Harry was a lot more outgoing, a lot more experienced in the ropes of life, but especially sexually. Y/N hadn't done much of anything prior to Harry, and he had the honors of introducing her to a whole plethora of things. Lots of kinks they'd dipped their toes into and Y/N gave her feedback on.

She was shy beyond what he was used to, but he found it endearing. He didn't mind working her through her shyness and building her up so she felt comfortable enough to speak to him and tell him what she liked, what she wanted to try. So far, she had gone off of what Harry had admitting to liking- at least the tamer stuff- and he was more than happy with her progress. All he cared about was her comfort and pleasure.

She liked spanking with his hand, wasn't too fond of a a paddle, thoroughly mewled when he had slipped his thumb over her tightest hole, enjoyed that he was in charge and she was his sweet little baby. They'd gone slower but Harry had been more than honest with her about his likes and his preferences. Y/N appreciated honesty more than anything, even when it hurt because lies were her number one hate. The sweet girl didn't dislike much, but dishonesty was one of them.

When she had sniffed out that he had been hiding something, he was quick to fess up that he'd been a bit anxious that it would be too much or too odd for her given this conversation had happened only after the 3rd time they'd had sex, so he had admitted that he preferred a certain honorific- Daddy- and that he wouldn't ever make her feel bad for not wanting to call him that if she so chose. Y/N hadn't said much about it since.

Not until tonight.

Deep inside, Harry watched her puffy, pretty cunt spread open as she took his cock. it was sticky with her arousal and his spit, her ass recoiling when his thighs hit it. It was a glorious scene, one of the sexiest things Harry ever had the privilege of seeing with his own eyes. She was making a mess on his length, a mess of glistening slick and creamy smears that were settling on the base making the sight almost too much for Harry to handle.

Then there were the moans, the sweet, delightful little 'uh's' that left her Scarlet painted lips. He'd taken her out on a date to a lovely little restaurant and when they arrived home she had kissed him deep, leading to this moment right here. Her dress discarded across his bedroom floor and her face resting on his pillow as he fucked into her needy cunt. Sweet calls of his name, for more, for him not to stop, she was getting more and more vocal as the pleasure began to raise and he was doing everything he could to make it even better for her.

"There we go, my love." He purred. "Can feel it, you're about to cum f'me again." The encouragement always did it for her, his hand squeezing her plump ass as he pounded away into her. "Perfect little pussy for my perfect girl. M'so obsessed with you." He wanted to give her another, knowing she was going places she hadn't been before by her babbling and clenching at his pillow but she hadn't called for him to stop- if anything, she asked for more. Harry couldn't get enough, so he was holding off his orgasm just to see her do it for him.

"M'gonna, m'gonna cum, m'gonna- please, can I?" Watery eyes looked up at him, the perfect version of his destroyed sweet peach as mascara smeared slightly under her eye. "Can I cum, can I please? M'good, m'so good, m'a good girl, I need to." Her rambles only made him love her more, despite her knowledge.

"Go on, my sweet girl. Let go f'me." He cooed, continuing the pace as he watched her unfold in front of him. He could feel it, feel her rippling around his cock and the gush of her arousal as she let out a squeal. Relishing in the feeling of her trembling under him, when she said something that caught him off guard. One, whimpery, pathetic sentence that had him almost keeling over.

"D-Daddy, want your cum, let me have it, please...."

As soon as it hit him what she said, he couldn't stop himself. Balls pulling up and cock throbbing as he emptied hot cum into her, a low groan leaving his mouth as it stayed open. Feeling her orgasm start to wane but pussy stilll clenching, milking him of his cum, he was careful as he fell over and held himself on top of her, hips stuttering as he tried to gather his bearings.

His Y/N, his sweet, delicate Y/N had just called him Daddy while begging for his cum. There was no way his orgasm could have withstood it. She probably would be slightly embarrassed when she realized what she said, but he was in heaven. He hoped it showed an inner want to call him that, that it was in her mind when they were intimate because she could see him like that. At the end of the day, all he wanted to do was take care of his precious girl, make sure she was cared for and comfortable.

Her head was back, hair flowing down her back as the elegant expanse of her throat was on display. The soft skin so bite-able, kissable, he mourned the loss of the ability to kiss it but it was soon distracted by her bouncing returning.

“Baby, baby, baby- fuck me.” He hissed, the slapping sound of her ass meeting his thighs and her wet cunt slipping up and down the length was almost too much, feeling her cunt dripping and wetting the patch of pubic hair neatly groomed at the base of his cock. She was making a fucking puddle, dripping down his cock and making him sticky. “Y-You’re so wet.” He whispered in awe.

“Y-you’re hitting something.” Y/N admitted, continuing the action over and over again as she got his dick more and more wet. Harry was living in a dream, eyes rolling back as her tightness continued to glide up and down. “It’s so good.”

Harry knew that. He was in rapture, helping her bounce as his fingertips dug into her hot flesh, urging her to move at the perfect pace. Not too fast, not too slow but nice and deep. Letting him dip all the way inside of her and feel it. He knew he was making a mess, precum dribbling inside of her and that too, made it even better. She asked for it raw, and Harry provided.

It just felt too good.

Overwhelming, almost, as the delicious squeeze made his legs shake slightly and his balls pulse, full and ready to empty into her whenever the right time came- but it was hard to control himself right now. It was hitting something, just as she had said, but for him too. How messy and wet her cunt was, how she made his cock and sac sticky and soaked, her face contorted in pleasure.

“Harry…. Harry, Harry, right there.” She adjusted just a bit and found her spot, but it was too late to warn him. He could feel the gush of her orgasm on his cock, a silent sob leaving her as he followed soon after. Load shooting up and filling her as he shook, thighs trembling as she tried to work out her orgasm. Milking him of every drop as she was greedy, continuing her bouncing with little noises. Primal and squeaky, like she was begging for more.

“S’too much.” He tried to say, but she wasn’t hearing him- so he lifted his hips and kept himself buried. It’s all it took for her to whine and collapse on him, taking him for a hungry kiss.