#harry update

Y/N gulped at the unintended innuendo. Get it together, she scolded herself. This is strictly business.

She warmed up some lotion in her hands and began working on Harry's muscular back and shoulders. Almost immediately, she could feel the tightness and knots from years of intense athletic training.

"You've got a lot of built-up tension in here," she commented, digging her fingers in to loosen a stubborn knot. "What sort of athletic background are we working with?"

"Footie, if you go by my English roots," Harry said, sucking in a sharp breath as she worked a particularly tender spot. "Played striker on an academy team as a kid before my interests shifted to music in my late teens."

Y/N raised her eyebrows, impressed. She had no idea Harry was such a talented athlete on top of his musical skills. Somehow that made her former crush on him even more intimidating.

As she moved down to his lower back, she tried to keep her touches clinical and impersonal. But she couldn't help noticing how toned Harry's body was, the muscles rippling beneath her hands. 

Stop ogling him, you're being completely unprofessional! She gave herself another firm mental rebuke.

For a while, the only sounds were Harry's occasional groans as Y/N dug into his tight knots and the relaxing spa music playing softly in the background. But eventually, Harry broke the silence.

"You know, you seem a bit nervous around me. Is it because I'm....well, me?"

Y/N felt her cheeks burn. She should have known he would pick up on her awkwardness.

"I'm just trying to stay focused," she mumbled, unable to keep the embarrassment out of her voice entirely. "I don't want to slip up and disappoint an important client like yourself."

To her surprise, Harry let out a low chuckle. "Love, I may be famous but I'm just a regular bloke like any other. No need to be nervous."

His voice was warm and full of humor, putting Y/N more at ease. She realized she had been building him up as some intimidating celebrity in her mind when really he seemed down-to-earth.

Feeling emboldened, she decided to open up a bit. "To be honest, I may have...had a bit of a crush on you back in the day. Your music was a big part of my teen years."

"Is that so?" Harry sounded both flattered and amused. "Well, I'll take it as a compliment from a pretty lady like yourself."

Y/N felt her traitorous cheeks heating up again. Were they...flirting now? She couldn't tell if he was just being charming or if there was real interest there.

She tried to keep things professional as she moved on to his arms and legs, though her lingering shyness made it difficult. Harry seemed to sense it, not pushing things but keeping up his friendly banter that had her laughing in spite of herself.

By the end of the ninety minutes, Y/N was disappointed for the massage to be over. Some of the intimidation had faded, replaced by an easy rapport. Almost as if...they could really be friends, or more, not just client and masseuse.

As Harry redressed and prepared to leave, he paused and gave her a heart-stoppingly charming smile. "Same time next week? I'll need to keep these knots at bay."

Y/N couldn't resist smiling back, a warm flutter in her belly. "I'll be here. It's a date."

Wait, did she actually just say that?! She wanted to cringe at her awkward choice of words.

But Harry just chuckled easily, not seeming bothered at all. "A date it is, then. I look forward to it."

As he sauntered out, Y/N exhaled a long breath. Suddenly, her job had gotten a lot more...interesting.

Over the next few months, Y/N looked forward to Harry's weekly appointments increasingly more. They had fallen into an easy, teasing back-and-forth during their sessions peppered with plenty of flirtatious banter. 

At first, Y/N firmly kept things within professional boundaries, no matter how strong her crush was growing. Harry may be a laid back, regular guy, but he was still a client at the end of the day.

However, the more she got to know the real Harry beyond his famous persona, the harder it became not to develop deeper feelings. His sharp wit, endless warmth and care for those around him, and genuine humility all endeared him to Y/N enormously.

For his part, Harry seemed to be growing quite fond of Y/N as well. He playfully requested she work extra hard on his "problem areas" and loved to tease her about her technique and bedroom eyes whenever she was really concentrating. Y/N would pretend to be flustered, but secretly loved their charged back-and-forth.

One week, Harry didn't show up for his usual appointment. Y/N tried not to feel too disappointed, figuring he must have just been busy. But when he missed his spot the following week as well with no notice, she began to worry something was wrong.

"Everything okay with Harry?" she couldn't help asking the spa receptionist. "I haven't seen him for his appointments lately."

The petite blonde receptionist gave her a sly grin. "Haven't you heard? There was an issue with his latest music release, so he's been dealing with that whole mess the past couple weeks."

Y/N frowned, concerned. Harry hadn't mentioned anything about work issues. Then again, she realized they had become so comfortable with each other that she always viewed him through a friend's lens rather than a client's now. 

Making a snap decision, Y/N pulled out her phone and drafted a text to the number Harry had given her months ago, just in case she ever needed to reschedule his slot.

"Hey there, just checking in! Missed you the past couple weeks and wanted to make sure everything is alright?"

She hit send before she could overthink it, her heart fluttering nervously. This was wildly unprofessional to text a client like this, even if Harry had become more of a friend really.

To her surprise, Harry texted back almost immediately.

"Y/N! Was just thinking about you, funny enough. I'm so sorry for going MIA, it's been a madhouse with this new album mess. Let me make it up to you with dinner this weekend?"

Y/N's eyes widened as she re-read the text. Was Harry...asking her on a date? Or was he just being friendly and suggesting they grab a bite to catch up? She wasn't sure, but her heart was pounding either way.

Throwing caution to the wind, she typed: "It's a date. Looking forward to it!"

If her massages with Harry had been growing increasingly charged lately, Y/N could only imagine how electric an actual date with him would be...

The rest of the week dragged by interminably for Y/N as she counted down to her dinner with Harry. She agonized over what to wear, settling on a slinky red dress that walked the line between casual date and fancy night out perfectly.

When Saturday evening finally arrived, Y/N felt uncharacteristically nervous as she pulled up to the chic restaurant Harry had chosen. What if she had been misreading everything and this was just a friendly dinner after all? She didn't want to make things weird if that was the case.

But the second Harry opened the door to greet her, looking unfairly handsome in a slick black button-down, her worries melted away. He was giving her the same heated look he got when she was working out a tight knot in his muscles - unmistakably attracted and intrigued.

"You look positively stunning, love," he murmured, taking her hand and giving it a delicate kiss. "Though I don't know what I was expecting, you always manage to blow me away."

Y/N felt her face heating up at his unabashed flattery, her pulse racing. She couldn't resist giving his bicep a playful squeeze.

"You're not looking too bad yourself, popstar. Now are we going to eat, or did you just invite me out to shamelessly flirt?"

Harry grinned wickedly. "Why can't we do both?"

The evening passed in a blur of delicious food, sinfully good wine, and the most scintillating conversation Y/N had ever experienced. She and Harry swapped stories, teased and joked, and delved into surprisingly deep philosophical discussions, all without missing a beat.

By the time they were splitting a decadent slice of chocolate cake for dessert, Y/N felt more relaxed and giddy than she had in years. Despite all her nervous buildup, the date was turning out perfectly.

"You know," Harry began conversationally as he licked some icing off his fork in a way that made Y/N's mouth go dry. "When you started as my masseuse, I'll admit I figured you were just another pretty face hired by the spa. Starstruck and nervous around me because of my image and all that rot."

Y/N felt her cheeks warm at his words, but Harry grinned teasingly to show he meant no offense. 

"But you proved me absolutely wrong in the best way possible, darling. Your skill and your spirit both blew me away. You're always so professional, but with this amazing warm heart and sharp wit just beneath the surface."

Y/N couldn't help smiling bashfully at his earnest compliments. "Well, you hardly made it easy to stay focused and impersonal, Mr. Cheeky Flirtmaster. I'm just glad we were able to become...friends."

She said the last word tentatively, wondering if Harry felt the same growing sense that they had become something more than that recently. His heated gaze and body language said as much, but she didn't want to assume.

Harry seemed to pick up on her hesitancy, his green eyes crinkling at the corners fondly.

"Y/N, I think we both know our 'friendship' has evolved into something deeper, at least for me. I've fancied you for months, maybe longer if I'm being honest with myself. You're bloody brilliant - smart, talented, caring, with a rocking body that drives me spare in the best way."

He reached across the table to take her hand, running his thumb over her knuckles. The tender intimacy of the gesture made Y/N's heart skip a beat.

"What I'm asking is...would you want to make this official? Give us a real go as more than just mates?"

Y/N felt like the breath had been knocked out of her lungs. She had imagined hearing those words from Harry's lips more times than she could count. But now that he had actually said them, she was temporarily stunned into silence.

Seeing her speechlessness, Harry chuckled warmly. "No need to answer right this second, love. I know it's a lot to process coming from your formerly famous client-turned-mate. Just think it over, yeah?"

Y/N finally managed to find her voice, emboldened by the caring warmth in Harry's eyes. She turned her palm over, lacing their fingers together decisively.

"You don't have to give me time, Harry. I've been crazy about you for ages if I'm honest. Of course I want to give us a real shot. I can't think of anything I want more."

The brilliant smile that spread across Harry's face sent tingles down Y/N's spine. He brought her knuckles to his lips, brushing a soft kiss there.

"Then it's official. We're a couple now."

Y/N felt giddy, like the words were a dream. Her and Harry Styles, the man she'd fancied for years, were entering a relationship together. What were the odds?

"Should we, uh, keep things professional at the spa still?" she asked, suddenly wondering if their new situation would make things weird.

To her surprise, Harry shook his head adamantly. "Actually, I was thinking of finding a new masseuse. I wouldn't want to put you in an awkward position having to work on your boyfriend's body every week, tempting as that sounds."

He gave her a heated look and Y/N felt a rush of arousal, imagining all the new layers their massages would take on now.

"Fair point. I don't think I could keep things totally professional anymore either," she admitted with a coy smile.

Harry signaled for the check, keeping Y/N's hand linked with his posessively. "Then it's settled. I'm all yours now, darling. Though fair warning, I'll expect my massages in private from here on out."

The tone of his voice made Y/N shiver pleasantly in anticipation. Oh, this romance was going to be incredibly fun.

***

Over the next few months, Y/N felt like she was living in a wonderful dream. She and Harry were inseparable, their bonds of friendship strengthening into an unbreakable foundation as their passion grew.

They went on romantic dates, attended glamorous celebrity events, and spent long cozy nights together at Harry's place. Y/N felt herself falling harder and harder for the kind, charismatic man who never failed to dote on her or cheer her on.

One evening, Harry surprised her by having a limo pick her up from work at the spa. Y/N raised her eyebrows in amused confusion as she slid into the sleek black car, wondering what her doting boyfriend was up to now.

To her delighted shock, Harry was waiting inside wearing a dashing tuxedo. He held out a rose to her with a warm smile. 

"My love, you look as breathtaking as ever. Are you ready for our night on the town?"

Y/N laughed giddily, feeling like a princess in a fairytale as Harry showered her with kisses. "You'll have to tell me where we're going, love!"

"Well, first we have dinner reservations at the city's most exclusive new restaurant. And afterward..." Harry trailed off teasingly before pulling a pair of tickets from his inner jacket pocket. "I've arranged for us to have a private vip loge at the opera!"

Y/N's jaw dropped. She knew Harry took great pride in planning thoughtful, romantic gestures, but she was blown away by this grand occasion. The evening was straight out of a storybook.

"Harry, this is...I can't even put into words," she breathed in amazement. "You are the singularly most incredible, thoughtful man in existence. How'd I ever get so lucky?"

Harry just grinned boyishly, giving her a wink as the limo pulled away from the curb. "You deserve all of this and more, darling. Tonight is just a start."

The rest of the evening passed in a blissful whirlwind. Y/N and Harry sipped gourmet cocktails as candles flickered between them at the restaurant. Their heated looks and brushing footsies beneath the table made the anticipation crackle deliciously. 

After the stunning five-star cuisine, Harry surprised Y/N again by hiring a violinist at the opera to serenade them privately in the vip loge while the show played out on stage. He held her close as they swayed to the rich, emotive music, looking into each other's eyes adoringly.

By the time they arrived back home in the limo, Y/N could barely keep her hands off her romantic prince of a boyfriend. She attacked his mouth hungrily as he lifted her into his arms, stumbling inside as they continued to devour each other.

That night was a blur of frantic lovemaking, tearing at clothes and tangling in the bed sheets as release was desperately chased between them. Y/N had never felt so thoroughly worshiped and cherished as when Harry was passionately laying claim to every inch of her body, branding her as his own with his scorching caresses.

"You're everything, Y/N," he groaned into the slick skin of her neck as she writhed beneath him. "My whole bloody universe, all the stars in the sky. Nothing means more to me than you, my perfect girl."

After, when the frenzied haze cleared, Harry held Y/N with indescribable tenderness like she was the most precious thing in existence. Which to him, she absolutely was. Her hands stroked through his sweat-dampened chestnut locks as he pressed fervent kisses to her collarbones, her sternum, everywhere his full lips could reach.

"How did I ever get so lucky?" he murmured, more to himself than her as he gazed up at Y/N reverently. "My entire world in these arms."

Y/N had no words, rendered speechless by the depth of love emanating from her man's bright green eyes. So she simply held him closer, letting her touch express everything her heart was too overwhelmed to put into phrases.

Of course, there were still hints of Harry's internal struggles with fame and the immense pressures of his career. The more Y/N got to know him intimately, the more she saw the tightly-wound tension that still crept into his muscles and posture frequently.

It killed her to see Harry in pain or overwhelmed, dealing silently with the weight of Hollywood's demands. So she made it her mission to take care of him, just like when she was his masseuse but in more intimate ways now.

After an especially grueling day of meetings and recording sessions, Y/N would draw Harry a hot bath infused with relaxing essential oils. She would gently undress him, unable to resist pressing soothing kisses along the protesting knots in his shoulders and back. Harry would let out deep rumbles of pleasure at her therapeutic touch.

One draining evening after he had done promo interviews all day followed by a high-energy concert, Harry came home to their penthouse utterly spent. His eyes were rimmed with exhaustion and his mouth was drawn into a tight line, shoulders hunched under the weight of his weariness.

Taking one look at her love in such a depleted state tore at Y/N's heartstrings. She quickly sprang into action, knowing just what he needed to recharge and find his center again.

"Go have a long, hot shower, babe," she murmured, pressing a tender kiss to Harry's furrowed brow. "I'll take care of everything else."

While Harry dragged himself to the bathroom, Y/N set about creating the perfect soothing atmosphere in their bedroom. She dimmed the lights to a warm golden glow and lit a few spicy aromatherapy candles. Then she pulled out her professional massage table and arranged it with all her favorite oils and lotions.

By the time Harry emerged from the steamy bathroom wearing nothing but a plush robe, Y/N had the space utterly transformed into a private spa oasis. Soft nature soundscapes played lightly in the background, blending with the flicker of candlelight to create an ambiance of pure tranquility.

Harry's brow unfurrowed slightly as he took in the scene, a small smile playing at his lips. "You're too good to me, darling," he rumbled in that gruff, sleepy tone Y/N adored.

"Mmm, not possible," Y/N assured with a soft smile, helping Harry shrug off his robe so he could climb onto the table completely nude. 

She warmed up some of the aromatic sandalwood oil between her palms before beginning her sensual ministrations along the perfect terrain of Harry's back and shoulders. His tight muscles instantly began loosening under her skilled touch.

Harry let out a deep, relieved groan as Y/N's strong hands found each knotted snarl and gently worked them loose. He practically melted into the table, boneless and pliant beneath her.

"S'why I love you so much," he slurred, the profound tension seeping from his body. "Always know just how to take care of me, dove."

Y/N hummed in contentment, leaning down to press a line of soothing kisses along the dips of Harry's spine. Between her mouth and her fingers spreading hot oil into every bunched muscle group, he was soon utterly liquid and relaxed. 

This went on for almost two blissful hours, Y/N taking her time to reverently cover every last inch of Harry's body in her healing touch. At one point she gently turned him over to tend to his chest, abdomen, and the handful of other areas he accumulated strain.

By the time she was finished, Harry was borderline unconscious - eyes hooded, face perfectly lax, breaths coming in deep and even pulls. Y/N trailed one last stroke down the miles of inked and toned skin he had exposed to her. Her beautiful boy, wholly at peace once more.

Pressing tender kisses to each of Harry's closed eyelids, Y/N carefully covered him with a plush duvet before slipping out of the bedroom. As much as she would love to stay and watch over him, she knew he needed to fully surrender to restorative sleep now.

Y/N headed to the kitchen, deciding to prepare one of Harry's favorite home cooked meals for when he woke feeling replenished and ravenous. As she moved around the space chopping vegetables and searing chicken, her mind couldn't help drifting to thoughts of the wonderful man in the other room.

She felt so unutterably lucky to be the one person in Harry's life allowed to take care of his weary body and soul in such an intimate way. All the fame, fortune, and success in the world was meaningless to Y/N, compared to earning his unwavering trust and being able to soothe away his struggles whenever they arose.

When Harry finally padded into the kitchen a couple hours later, he looked noticeably refreshed and at peace. There was a soft, dazed expression playing on his features as his bright eyes landed on Y/N in an oversized shirt cooking away.

"There she is," he rasped in that deep, gorgeously gravelly morning voice of his. "Most beautiful sight in the world."

Y/N grinned, warmth blossoming in her chest at the open adoration on Harry's face. Even after going through a draining day, he still couldn't help being an outrageous charmer with her.

"Did you get enough beauty sleep, love?" she teased lightly, moving across the room to wind her arms around his trim waist.

Harry hummed in contentment, ducking his head to nuzzle into the crook of her neck. He inhaled her familiar honeysuckle scent deeply, as if letting the aroma soothe his very soul.

"More than enough. I feel reborn, all thanks to you taking such incredible care of me as always." One of his large hands trailed up and down her back. "You spoil me rotten, darling."

"And you love every second of it," Y/N murmured with a soft laugh, tilting her chin up to search his sparkling green gaze.

The tender look Harry returned her with stole her breath away, like it still did even after all this time together. His calloused thumb traced the line of her cheekbone reverently.

"How could I not?" His low rumble sent tingles down her spine. "When you pour so much love and devotion into everything you do for me. Makes me fall deeper every damn day, dove."

As their mouths slanted together in a searing, drugging kiss, Y/N couldn't dream of a response. Because there were truly no words sufficient enough to capture the cosmic love between them in that moment.

Of course, their intimate times weren't always just about relaxation either. Y/N's massages frequently led to much more heated activities once Harry was completely de-stressed, his desire for her building as she worked her magic on his body.

Harry loved nothing more than to suddenly flip their positions, pinning Y/N to the bed and attacking her neck and collarbone with hot, hungry kisses. His hands would grip her curves possessively as she writhed beneath him.

"You've woken the beast, darling," he would growl in her ear, making her shiver with delicious anticipation. "Now you'll have to tame him."

Their lovemaking was always passionate and intense, the depth of their connection shining through in how perfectly in-sync their bodies were. Y/N never felt more beautiful, powerful, and utterly cherished than when Harry was worshiping every inch of her with his hands, lips, and tongue.

Sometimes their couplings started not from a massage, but simply from them stealing heated looks while going about their day. Like the time Y/N was baking in the kitchen, shaking her hips to the beat of the pop song playing while she rolled out pie dough, careless and free of the world around her.

She didn't notice Harry sidle up behind her until his strong arms wound around her waist, tugging her flush against his solid chest. His lips found the juncture of her neck and shoulder, sucking a blistering path up to the spot behind her ear that drove her crazy.

"Look at you," he rumbled in that gravelly morning tone of his as Y/N gasped and arched back into his sturdy frame. "Being all sexy and domestic, tempting a bloke with something fierce."

Y/N bit back a throaty moan as Harry's nimble fingers slid beneath her loose shirt, calloused palms blazing a path up her ribcage. "Harry, what-what are you doing?" she breathed, though she already knew the answer if the hardness pressing into her backside was any indication.

"Having a nibble of my favorite snack," he replied cheekily, punctuating his words with a sharp nip to her earlobe that made her inhale shakily, her heartbeat accelerating in her chest.

Before she could really process what was happening, Harry had easily turned Y/N in his arms and hoisted her up onto the wide kitchen counter. She reflexively wrapped her toned legs around his trim waist to anchor them together as he attacked her mouth in a desperate kiss.

His tongue plundered deep, tasting every crevice as Y/N clutched at the dense muscle of his biceps and back. One of his large hands cupped her jaw to angle her how he wanted while the other palmed her breast through the thin fabric, brushing a calloused thumb over the peaked nipple there.

Y/N whimpered into Harry's mouth, already spiraling from how quickly his talented hands and lips had her arousal spiking. He was single handedly unraveling her till she was putty in his hands, the only thought in her mind was what he was planning to do to her next..

Finally, Harry broke the filthy clash of their mouths, panting harshly as he pinned Y/N with a look of pure hunger. His green eyes were near black with want, wandering possessively over her flushed state.

"You make me so bloody crazy, dove," he rasped in a low rumble that had her pulse kicking up another notch. "I can't keep my hands off you."

Y/N whimpered at the pure need saturating her boyfriend's deep tone. She squirmed deliciously against him, desperate for more friction.

"Then don't," she managed to gasp out through her daze of arousal. "Take what you want from me, Harry. I'm all yours."

The low, guttural groan Harry let out at her breathless plea, very nearly had Y/N coming undone right then. His smoldering gaze somehow burned even hotter with carnal intent.

Before she could process what was happening, Harry had ridden her of her shirt and shorts in two effortless tugs. His big palms instantly settled at the curves of her waist, thumbs dipping beneath the lace waistband of her underwear teasingly.

"Look at you...so gorgeous and flushed, ready and waiting for me," he praised in a low rasp, leaning in to drag his tongue up the slender column of her throat. "You have no idea what you do to me, do you baby?"

Y/N was too far gone in the spiral of her own pleasure to respond with anything more coherent than a choked-off whine that had him thickening in his pants. She writhed against Harry's solid frame, silently pleading for him to end her torment.

Seeming to take the hint, Harry ducked his head to mouth along the swell of her breasts and sternum, layering nips and sucking kisses until her skin was covered with marks of his devotion. Y/N arched her back hair sticking to her rapidly dampening skin as breathy moans tumbled from her parted lips.

"So responsive for me, dove," Harry grunted in approval, his big hands sliding around to shamelessly cup and squeeze her backside. "So perfect at taking everything I give you."

With one swift movement, he tugged her skimpy panties aside and plunged two ring clad fingertips through her dripping folds. Y/N cried out shamelessly at the long-awaited relief, her hips bucking forward uncontrollably to maximize the delicious stretch and burn.

"Christ, so wet and tight," Harry ground out, sounding utterly wrecked as he swirled his fingers around her throbbing entrance teasingly. "Made just for me, isn't that right lovely? Made to take my fingers, my tongue..."

His voice dropped to a sinful baritone as he slowly pumped his thick digits in and out of her fluttering, slick heat. Y/N let out a shrill whine of complete surrender, eyes rolling back as she fully gave herself over to the glorious sensations sparking along every nerve-ending.

"Made to take every hard inch of my cock, pushing deep inside this perfect little cunt," Harry continued in that gravelly and raspy tone, leaning down to whisper the obscene words directly against her damp skin.

True to form, his skilled fingers had Y/N right on the edge of shattering with dizzying speed. Her thighs quivered with the coiled tension, inner walls fluttering madly around the deliciously intrusive stretch of his thick digits.

Just when she thought she couldn't take any more of the exquisite torment, when stars were bursting behind her eyelids, Harry abruptly curled his fingers upward in a devastating stroke against that magic spot inside her. Y/N's entire body convulsed as she broke into a thousand kaleidoscopic pieces, a strangled scream of pure euphoria ripping free from her throat.

By the time her vision finally began refocusing, her loose limbs were draped bonelessly over Harry's shoulders, her head spinning in dizzy bliss. She clearly registered the achingly slow push and pull of his fingers continuing to work through her fluttering, overstimulated cunt.

Harry's burning gaze was locked onto her sweat-slicked, flushed skin as he methodically wrung out every last spasm of ecstasy from her boneless frame. The soft, reverent look of awe on his handsome face stole what little breath Y/N had managed to recapture.

"Look at you, darling...absolutely wrecked for me," he husked "So stunning like this, falling apart on my fingers. All fo’ me"

Despite feeling completely satisfied, Y/N couldn't help but feel a rush of desire at Harry's words.  He always had been equal parts tender and filthy in his erotic praise and endearments.

Case in point, his next words as he slid his glistening fingers into his mouth to taste her essence were absolutely scorching.

"Clean that essence up for me like a good girl, dove...because I'm going to need you soaked and begging again in about five minutes."

Y/N let out a breathy moan at the promise in his words, knowing full well her legs were going to absolutely sore tonight, her knees wobbly and unable to walk by morning.

She nodded around the slick digits, swirling her tongue around the fullness of them as he sighed at the way she sucked his fingers.

“God, I wish it was m’ cock behind those pretty lips, dove” he pulled them out, placing his hand right over her naked thigh, “but I want it inside your pretty pussy for now”

She nodded, too awestruck to actua;ly process her mind to his words.He shook her head at her, pulling down the pants he had put on earlier.

“Got me so hard. Could’ve burst from listening to you being so filthy for me”

Her cheeks flushed at his risque words, thighs pushing together as his cock sprang free, the angry, red tip throbbing as he took himself into his palm, stroking his length to relieve some of the tension.

She pushed her thighs above each other, feeling utterly flustered and dizzy. He was gong to fuck her, and memories of all the times he had, flooding her mind like ocean water.

Finally, he let go of himself, parting her thighs and slotting himself in between. She let out a broken gasp, mouth going dry as she took a look at her own desperation, red and swollen, yet, so needy and wet.

“Could never get enough of you” he said into her mouth, swallowing her gasp as his cock stretched her open deliciously. A broken moan made its way past her lips, her quivering legs wrapping around him as he slid himself inside her. Her wetness swallowed him up, her pussy gushing with arousal as he angled her hips higher.

“Good, fucking–so damn tight for me” eh cursed, her mouth parting open into another broken sob as he thrust in and out of her, her wet walls taking him in so well. He felt so heavenly, his cock buried inside his pretty, so pretty and perfect girl.

“How did I stay so long without you? Hm?” he asked rhetorically, and she opened her closed eyes. His hand reached between her parted legs, his skilled digits teasing her clit, while his practised strokes made her fall apart under him.

“Oh fuck, yeah–right there” she begged him to keep fucking her, his cock hitting the deepest of spots inside her. It had her mind going numb, her toes curling as he fucked her with delirious intent.

“Pussy’s so good–:” he praised her once again, his fingers finally landing on her clit, a sharp spank that made her cum right then and there.

She arched her back, her head falling back till it touched the counter. She grabbed her nipples, pinching them as he rubbed circles over her clit, his cock fucking her at a pace that had her screaming and begging for more.

“Oh fuck, Harr–Harry, oh my fucking god”

He grabbed her hips, laying her down flat as she choked on another sob, her wetness gushing out and wetting the cold marble counter. Harry was grinning and smirking, watching her fall apart beneath him. He was the only one who could make her mind go absolutely detached, the only thought in her mind being of him. His name. His cock. His hands. The way they made her feel.

“Her orgasm prolonged as he kept her on the edge, her pussy short circuiting is the overstimulation kicked in. She was sore, two orgasms after a day of work would do that to her.

“Harry–” she pouted, her hands reaching out for his, to which he immediately complied, intertwining their fingers.

“Just a little longer, Almost done”

He promised, and began fucking her at the vicious pace again. The room echoed with the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin, her hips bruised as he sucked a breath in, teetering on the edge of sweet, sweet release.

He came inside her that day, his cock leaking inside her warm, warm cunt till he was fully spent and empty, her cunt full of his load as he stayed inside a little longer, relishing in the way she fluttered around him, squeezing and milking his cock for all he had.

He kissed her knuckles, murmuring sweet words of love as they lay on the counter for a while, her bake affair long forgotten, since she had already gotten a taste of something much sweeter.

***

The next morning, as Y/N was featherlight kissing her way down Harry's chiseled torso with the intent of rousing him for another sensual round, her lips brushed against something unfamiliar on his skin. Frowning, she pushed back the bedsheets to get a better look.

There, etched in thick black ink just above Harry's hipbone, was a new tattoo she had never noticed before. It was a series of numbers, almost like...coordinates?

Y/N felt her breath catch as she recognized the distinctly precise numerical patterning. She had taken enough coding classes to spot geographic coordinates when she saw them.

"Harry..." she gulped, tracing the new ink with a trembling fingertip. "What is this? Why do you have map coordinates tattooed on your body?"

The sleepy, blissed-out expression on Harry's face instantly shuttered closed as soon as the words left Y/N's lips. He seemed to almost freeze for a moment, grimacing ever-so-slightly as he struggled to keep his expression neutral.

"It's...nothing to concern yourself with, darling," he finally replied in a tone that was just a bit too overly-casual. "Just a drunken mistake from a mate's stag night a few weeks back. Doesn't mean anything, I swear."

But Y/N knew her boyfriend too well to be convinced by his nonchalant dismissal. She searched his bright green eyes, unable to shake the feeling that there was much more to this strange new tattoo than he was letting on.

What secrets could Harry possibly be keeping from her? And just where exactly would those map coordinates lead if she dared to follow them?

The delicious haze of their previous intimacy was shattered, replaced by a gnawing sense that Y/N was missing out on some important truth about her boyfriend's life. And she knew their relationship could never regain that blissful closeness until she uncovered what Harry was hiding...

(next part)

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tell me if you like this! i want to do a part 2, but this one's long, so we'll see! please reblog or comment if you like, it makes my heart happy :)

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Though when you first laid eyes on him- your personal bodyguard, you felt the composure crack just a bit. Enough that you couldn’t help your eyes following him as he strode through the hotel lobby. Your first meeting had forced a wave of heat over your body, when he met your gaze and introduced himself with an unanticipated, British accent, and hardened voice. He’d caught your eye, forced you into an uncomfortably vulnerable position, which wasn’t usual for you.

He was harsh, a bit blunt- but you didn’t mind. You were familiar with the type of men that usually found themselves in that line of work. Stoic, reserved, but intimidating. You liked your privacy, not answering mindless questions or making idle conversation- nothing like the hollow prodding of foreign delegates.

He was no different than the others before him, aside from the sinful thoughts that crossed your mind when you laid eyes on him. He made it a point to keep distance between you, only tending to you when you asked, no polite conversation required. You didn’t expect any less, not from a foreign national who likely had no interest in making conversation with a diplomat.

You’d been in and out of meetings the entire week, driven around by the  man. He hadn’t left your side, suited in a Kevlar vest and carrying a handgun. He’d watched you bury yourself in your work, dig into the unpleasant parts of your job that needed to be done. He admired that kind of work ethic, even if you were a foreigner.

Your conversations were brief and uninviting. It was easy to discern his distaste for small talk. He’d built a wall around himself, that much was evident, but it only spurred your desire to delve into unsavoury territory. You saw yourself in him, a reflection of someone who’d closed themselves off from meaningful relationships, an effort to remain unbound and free from complications.

The week had flown by. Little by little, you came to see glimpses of his personality, what made him chuckle, what he liked and disliked. It was vague, but enough for you to come to enjoy- inadvertently. You were lonely, there was no room for denial there, and in your vulnerable state, you’d found yourself wanting more.

That much was a shock. Though, you’d also kept your distance, not allowing yourself to be caught staring, remaining composed even if your heart was pounding in his presence. The added stress of an upcoming dinner didn’t help your fragile state.

It was common for foreign politicians to host dinners, welcoming you to their country while promoting the image of peace. It was a tradition that you’d grown used to and learned to tolerate regardless of the strain it put on you.

It sneaked up, between conferences and meetings; a dinner scheduled with the Prime Minister’s associates, and you couldn’t be a minute late.

You’d already finished with your hair and makeup, zipping yourself into the tight dress until you couldn’t reach above your shoulders. You were frustrated and already running behind your tight schedule. You let an exasperated sigh leave your lips before you called for Harry.

“Everythin’ alright?” He asked, cracking the door.

You sighed again, walking to meet him halfway.

“I can’t do the zipper up,” You said. “Would you mind?”

He’d seen you in every state; half-asleep, post-shower, even casual dress- but the sight of you in a dress that highlighted all the right places made his knees weak. He couldn’t meet your eyes, not for a moment while he blinked away the thoughts of you that ambushed him.

He nodded briskly, and you spun around while moving your hair to allow his fingers to do up the rest of the closure. His fingertips brushed the skin on your back, feeling the silky texture beneath his rough hands. You forced yourself not to shiver, not to give in to the warmth crawling its way down your abdomen.

“Thanks,” You nodded.

You tugged at the dress that sat on your curves, settling it appropriately over your cleavage and hips. Your feet slipped into heels, offering Harry a quick, haphazard smile full of unseen nerves.

“Let’s go,” You nodded, grabbing your purse before leaving the hotel room with Harry following close behind.

He drove you to your meeting. He’d kept quiet while driving, his hand clinging to the steering wheel, sneaking glances of you in the rearview mirror. He could see you fixing your lipstick in your pocket mirror, one knee hooked over the other, lips rubbing the colour together.

He couldn’t deny, he imagined those heels strung over his shoulders, maybe even digging into his back- though his head twitched while he forced himself to focus.

You were no better; your eyes had been studying the side of his head, drawn further down to the tattoos showing on his forearm. You watched him from your spot in the backseat, painfully willing yourself not to imagine him hovering over you, buried between your thighs, but it was a useless endeavour.

It took you off guard, finding yourself so flustered in his presence that it was difficult to manage simple conversation. You were grateful he didn’t talk much, liked the silence as much as you.

Throughout dinner, you could feel him watching. His eyes locked in on you, studying your face as you smiled and laughed at the uninteresting conversation in front of you.

Your eyes darted to Harry’s, finding his gaze already on you. Regardless of your preference for privacy, you felt a connection. A longing, for something more than cheap discussions and placid smiles. It could’ve been the wine, or delusions caused by stress, but it distracted you.

Harry’s domineering stare never left you, not within the few hours it took to finish your meal, and during the conversation that followed.

Ordinarily, you’d think nothing of it- if anything, it would be expected, or a good choice of personal protection; but the stiffness in his stance, eyes surveilling your body, the hand that touched the small of your back as he guided you from the restaurant- your gut told you he wanted more.

You did indulge more than a few glasses of wine near the end, knowing you’d share a ride back to your hotel with Harry. It was liquid courage, filling your veins in the hopes that you’d be able to tolerate the ten-minute drive without feeling flustered.

As he opened the door for you, welcoming you back to the empty hotel room, you stopped just inside.

Your heart was pounding against your rib cage- the wine causing a bit of blurriness in your vision and a boost of confidence upon seeing him so close, only a foot outside your room. It made avoiding temptation so much more difficult than you were equipped to handle.

“Would you like a drink?” You asked, your hand resting on the door as you held it open.

“’M on duty,” He shook his head, stepping back.

“Not for much longer,” You replied, checking the time over your shoulder.

His weight shifted, wondering if it was worth the risk— if you were worth the risk. As his eyes wandered down your frame, he sighed quietly. Willpower was his strong suit, but after a week of watching you torment him with your silk bathrobe and tight-fitting dresses, he’d been worn down.

“Alright,” He conceded with a nod.

He stepped inside, ridding himself of his utility belt and vest, making himself comfortable on the hard armchair across from the couch. He wasn’t one for much conversation, and your request came as a surprise.

He wondered if maybe you’d offered him a drink to thank him- it was your last night under his watch, after all; though a less disciplined part of him hoped it would be an invitation to have his fantasies fulfilled.

“You prefer Scotch or Bourbon?” You asked, gazing over your shoulder at him.

“Bourbon,” He replied.

He was leaned over, elbows on his thighs as he watched you rummage for two glasses and pour the bourbon over ice.

You joined him in the sitting area, handing him the glass before taking a seat across from him. Your feet curled up under you, resting your elbow on the back of the couch while you looked at him.

“Have you been doing this long?” You asked, finishing a sip.

“Few years, after I left my other job.”

You smiled softly, “I thought you were a vet. How long?”

“Too long,” He answered, fingers clasping the glass as he watched you.

Your eyes narrowed at him.

“Was it too bad that you had to run away–? Must’ve been hard to be away from your family.”

You diverted your gaze to the bourbon in your glass, waiting with bated breath for his answer. You hadn’t seen a wedding ring, though the times he went with obnoxious number of rings on his hand did make you skeptical, but after a close watch one day, you realized none of them was a wedding band, or a promise ring.

“No family,” He shook his head. “Don’t have time for it.”

“Your wife, then?”

“If you wanna ask me somethin’, prefer you just ask it,” He was leaning even closer, his stare was agonizingly precise.

You could feel the taunting smirk on his face, the tone of his voice inviting you to find out what his intentions were, how he felt about you. He could read you well, notice the changes in your demeanour, your breathing.

You took in a deep breath as you wondered if he was silently hoping you’d get on with it already. You liked getting to know him, though. If not to pry in his personal life so you knew just how far things could go.

The look in his eyes, one of focus and unwavering dedication to give you all of his attention, had you trembling with desire. Unravelling your legs, you strode to stand before him, and he sat up straighter.

It was a risk, though most of the risk had been diminished when he flirted with you, practically offered himself to you. And when his hands wrapped around your thighs, you knew exactly what he wanted.

“Do you have a wife? Girlfriend?” You asked, leaning in closer.

“If I did, wouldn’t have come in here.”

“Fair enough.”

“You gonna keep askin’ me questions or take this dress off?”

His hands had a firm grasp on your thighs, keeping you pinned to the spot.

Your hands landed on his shoulders. “Help me?”

He unzipped your dress, his hands helping to slide it down your shoulders. Once you’d slid it down your body, he looked you over, pulling you onto his lap.

“Couldn’t take my eyes off you in that fuckin’ dress,” He muttered, leaning into your neck.

You hummed with satisfaction, “I noticed.”

“S'pose I ain’t subtle when I want somethin’.”

Your cheeks flushed- maybe the drinks, or maybe the feeling of his hands on your body, but his words seemed to cover you in a fog of lust.

“I like that,” You grinned.

And it was one of the first times you looked at his face while the world was silent around you. No chatter, no talks, just him and you, and his lips on your neck.

He gave wet, open-mouthed kisses, soothed by his tongue, teeth grazing your silky flesh. You’d let your head fall back, eyes shutting as you savoured the goosebumps he coaxed from your body.

The warmth between your thighs spread, engulfing every limb until it felt like you were on fire- especially when his hand reached around, taking a handful of your ass with rough palms.

Your hands, in turn, slid down his chest, feeling the hardness of his pecs, mountains of muscle across his body. He was warm beneath your touch, feverish with lust, burning up just at the thought of your body against his. He was pushing his groin up into you; heavy breaths in your neck, hands grabbing whatever they could reach.

One of his hands slithered between your thighs, calloused fingers finding the crest of your pussy to apply pressure. Your lips moulded together, a soft hum of pleasure escaping in a sigh through your nose.

Still, he leaned into your neck, had a handful of your backside in his grip, manhandling you to grind your pussy over his fingers.

“Just like that,” You moaned softly, gentle pants of pleasure fanning against his neck.

He only sighed quietly in response, his groin pressed against you, hips rocking into you. Already, you were leaking through your panties, the fabric sticking to the slick lubrication dripping between your thighs.

“You’re wet already, sweetheart,” He grumbled in your ear.

“I know,” You moaned faintly. “I need more.”

His hand disappeared for a moment, belt buckle clanking together, unzipping his pants as he pulled his cock from his briefs. Your eyes lifted to his, perching forward, using your hand to gently glide his cock into your entrance.

He buried his face in your neck as your palm guided him to the tight embrace of your pussy- ridges of his cock sliding past the velvety barrier with ease.

“Slow,” He grumbled. “Fuck me-” He choked out.

The tip of his cock just barely pushed past the slick lining of your pussy, and he dropped his head back. In unison, groans of pleasure left your lips as you lowered yourself onto his cock, opening yourself up until he was finally buried inside you.

“Christ, sweetheart,” He muttered, his hands finding your hips.

You didn’t stop, moving your hips forward as he lifted his head to find your eyes. His bottom lip was tucked between his teeth, harsh grunts leaving his chest.

“You feel good,” He mumbled.

“Tell me how good,” You breathed, your hands meeting around the back of his neck.

“Real fuckin’ good,” He grunted.

His hips inadvertently bucked up into you, causing a flash of a smile to cross your lips, before he reached down and rubbed his fingers over your clit.

Your pace faltered for a moment, a quiet whimper escaping, before you pulled yourself even closer, grinding on his lap. Your arm wrapped around his neck, desperately chasing the friction his fingers offered, the depth of him inside you.

His fingers had a bruising hold on the flesh of your waist, his face nearly buried in your breasts as you rocked into him.

Low grunts of pleasure were muffled against your skin, his body rigid while he resisted the urge to climax. Your lips parted as puffs of air escaped, fighting to catch your breath between the pleasure and exertion.

He went to pin you to the couch cushions, set the pace himself when you stopped him with a hand on his chest.

“I get what I need,” You exhaled, still grinding your hips against his. “Then, you can have what you want.”

He was pleasantly surprised. He’d never been one for giving up control, though watching your hips move, your breasts in his face- it wasn’t so difficult to sit back and let you ride his cock.

“Get on with it, then,” He said, leaving a harsh smack on your ass.

“Use your fingers,” You shot back, nearly breathless.

“You ever say please?” He cocked his head.

“Please,” You spat out.

You watched his lip twitch, then felt his rough fingers rub circles over your clit. You hunched over, leaning on his shoulders for support, smelling the faint scent of his cologne, listening to the deep breaths he was desperately trying to camouflage.

It was enough to bring your climax to fruition, eyes squeezing shut as pleasure engulfed you, soft tremors in your legs and hips as it migrated outward.

Your head fell back, lips open in a gasp that had been suffocated by your heavy breathing. Your fingers dug into the taught muscle of his shoulders, toes curling while your body hit plateaus of pleasure.

“That’s it,” He drawled. “There it is.”

You whimpered softly as the pleasure dissipated, leaving you soft and pliable, relaxed. Then, he moved you to the cushions, pulling your legs around his torso.

He drove his cock into you, feeling the after-effects of your orgasm in the form of short contractions. Each time your pussy squeezed his cock, he was pushed even closer to cumming. His breathing sped up, elbows digging into the couch as he buried his cock in you.

You were useless, lifeless against the couch, hanging onto his neck as he thrusted into you. Breaths fanning your chest and collarbones as he buried his head into you, groaning harshly.

He hurriedly pulled out of you, tugging his cock a few times before releasing his cum over your stomach. A few twitches, low groans, soft exhales; his eyes met yours in the aftermath of his orgasm.

You laid back, relaxing as he brought you your robe and a towel. You quickly cleaned off, tying your robe around your waist as he tugged his vest over his head and grabbed his gear.

“Thanks,” You nodded, your eyes barely meeting his. “For this past week, and for that.”

He huffed- a small expression of amusement.

“Let me know next time you’re in town.”

“Probably won’t be for another few years,” You sighed, your hand holding the door for him once again. “If I had a reason to, I’d stop by.”

He then grinned, “Here,” He rummaged through the fatigued pocket of his vest, handing you a card.

It had his name and a phone number, not listed whether it was personal or business.

“If you find yourself in need of my services. Anytime.”

You smiled, taking the card and examining it.

“How’s next week sound?”

“Good.”

“I look forward to it.”

He left you with a short goodbye, thumbs hooked in his vest as he wandered off, giving one last look over his shoulder before disappearing.

*

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