#lauras-collection

It’s not like you’d intended to develop these feelings for Harrison, it had just sort of... happened.

When your now-roommate had responded to the ad you’d put up on Facebook, you’d thought he was a little bit too good to be true. Harrison had turned up to the showing in a designer coat and he’d laid the charm on thick - and before you’d really had time to think about it, you’d ended the encounter by inviting him to live with you. He was moved in by the end of the week, and every day since has been an adventure.

You get on well. Very well, in fact. You’d go as far to classify him as one of your best friends, which is an issue now, because somewhere between signing the lease and today, you’ve managed to develop this absorbing, fervent lust for him, and now you can’t seem to be able to stop looking at his fucking hands.

There’s a lot of things to admire about Harrison, but his hands are your greatest weakness. Whether they’re wrapped around a glass, or drumming over the kitchen table, or passing you the salt shaker, your eyes are just... drawn there. His fingers are so long and stocky, and your stolen glimpses send your mind swirling down the gutter. You imagine watching the veins flex as his fingers travel all over you, grabbing at you, pulling you close, stroking against your inner walls-- and it’s utterly seductive, and completely consuming.

And as if the strong lines of his hands aren’t enough, his ring is a source of your suffering, too. The silver metal glints beneath the lights in the kitchen, and it always garners your undivided attention, because it’s very easy to imagine what it’d look like pressing up against your cunt, the cool metal burning against your hot hole.

You think you’re very inconspicuous about it. Harrison doesn’t seem to notice your fixation on his hands, or how you sometimes swallow particularly harshly every time he runs his fingers through his hair, but maybe you were too distracted by his movements to ever realise that - whilst you were watching his hands - Harrison was watching your face, and observing your eyes clouding over with lust every time he articulated something with his hands.

So he teases you a little bit, just because he can, and he enjoys making you squirm because he wants to see how far he can take it before you snap.

He goes all out. Letting his hands rest on the small of your back, his fingers rubbing small circles over the tender skin when your hoodie rides up. He makes a very conscious effort to keep pulling at his hair whenever you’re around just so you get the full view of his knuckles curving and his muscles clenching, and his fingers tousling up his strands. When he realises you have a thing for accessories, he starts stacking more layers of rings all across his stocky fingers, and he starts religiously wearing his watch around the flat because he knows just how much you love seeing the rich leather strap wrapped around his wrist.

It all finally escalates when you’re cooking together, and you get a spot of sauce on your chin, and you ask him, very nicely, to get it off for you.

“You’re so messy, Y/N,” he mumbles. Harrison draws his hand to your face, and he bites at his lower lip as he sees the way you’re watching him move. He draws his fingers over your chin and swipes away the bead of rich tomato sauce with his thumb, but instead of pulling away, he brings the pad of your thumb up and presses it over your lips. Your eyes darken and you part your lips, and he slips his finger into your mouth easily.

A small, trembling whine passes up your throat, and you suck around his finger eagerly. It feels heavy on your tongue, and Harrison presses it further into your mouth as you reach up and grab at his waist, your cooking forgotten as your mind clouds over.

“I know you like my hands, darling,” Harrison finally dares to say. The way you’re looking at him - all distracted, and aroused, with those large dark eyes confirms it. “I see you, when you’re staring at my fingers all the time.” You hum quietly, and you’d feel embarrassed if he wasn’t staring at you like he’s ravenous. “Do you want me to show you what they can do?”

With a desperate jerk of your head, Harrison dips his other hand down. Luckily for you, you’re wearing a short floaty skirt, so he’s able to keep his thumb resting in your mouth as his other hand slips up to cup your crotch. You whimper, the sound coming out muffled against his thumb, and Harrison swaps it out for his index and middle fingers instead, stretching your mouth out as you buck your hips down against his other hand.

“So wet for me already,” he whispers. He leans nearer to press a warm kiss to your cheek, his lips finding your ear a moment later as he adds, “Can’t wait to feel you around m’fingers, love.” He finally lets his digits slip beneath the waistband of your panties, and he gathers up the slick from your entrance before bringing it up to massage over your clit. As your eyes flutter shut, his tongue flicks out across your earlobe. “Keep your eyes on me, love. Want to watch your face as I fuck you, with my fingers in your mouth.”

You watch Harrison intently, enjoying the sight of his focused features as he alternates between rubbing over your clit and sliding his long, stocky digits into you. He stretches you out, and it’s delicious, and the fact that he’s got his other hand hanging from your mouth makes it even better. You suck on his digits as you moan, every inch of you crawling with heady desire as you start to grind down against his hand, your breathing hitching. With each long thrust of his fingers into you, the palm of his warm hand fucks up against your clit and it draws you close.

“Such a pretty little thing, aren’t you?” He murmurs, his blue eyes dancing darkly. Your lips are messy with spit and you struggle to keep his fingers in your mouth as your loud, building moans that threaten to spill out. “Pussy’s so hot and wet for me. Makes me wonder what it’d feel like to fuck you.” Harrison angles his fingers just right, and you find yourself reaching up and curling your fingers around his t-shirt, just so you have something to clench around as he rocks you to the edge. “G’nna cum for me, love? Let me feel you. Go on.”

His fingers slip from your mouth, and the kitchen fills with the sounds of your enjoyment as you release. His lips travel up and down your neck, kissing you, sucking your skin, drawing out your climax as you whimper and pulse for him, his fingers filling you to the knuckles as his thumb nudges against your clit over and over again. It’s electric - and after waiting so many months to feel his hands working you over, it feels incredible.

“Shit, Haz,” you stammer out, as he moves his hand away from your cunt. You watch as he finds your eyes and he enjoys bringing his digits up to his mouth and licking off your release, his pink tongue lapping up your juices eagerly. “Holy fuck...”

Harrison smirks. “Enjoy that?” He asks, and you nod immediately.

“Your hands are incredible.”

He moves in nearer, and you bite your lip as you find yourself on the receiving end of one of his intense, lusting stares. “They’re not the only part of me I think you’d enjoy feeling.”

You chuckle lightly and run your hands over the front of his shirt. “Oh, really?” You ask, glancing down to take note of his bulge. “Best show me what I’ve been missing out on, then.”