Daddy issues // Harry Styles

Chapter 9

Big mistake. Huge. The Julia Roberts in "Pretty woman" kind.

You stood there staring at your phone, mouth agape, for God knows how long. You just couldn't look away. There it was, a black and white photo, definitely very artistic looking. From afar you could even maybe speculate it was a professional shot. Which contrasted even more with the subject of the photo, making it all the more scandalous: your lace panties, the very first ones you'd originally forgotten in Harry's ensuite only to later find hidden in his nightstand... absolutely drenched in what could only be Harry's cum. There was no mistaking it, and he made sure you knew exactly what you were looking at.

He'd not added any text, no warning, no nothing. He just sent it, knowing full well you were at work. Deliberately. To taunt you. To make you squirm. The fucking tease.

You just kept staring and staring until Lindsay came back from her lunch break and gave you a puzzled look "Still haven't cracked it yet?"

"Huh? Oh!" you fumbled with your phone, locking the screen for good measure "Yeah. It's uhm... proving more difficult than I originally thought"

"Want me to go over it, maybe I can help?"

"Oh, no, no" you cleared your throat "It's all right. I'm almost done with it, I can feel it"

"Ok, suit yourself. Lemme know if you change your mind. And go eat something, you look pale!"

Jesus fucking Christ. You glanced back at your phone, the photo just as shocking as before. How were you expected to get any work done now? Your eyes moved to your monitor and you read over the last few code lines like they were sanskrit. You had no idea where you'd meant to go with all that, nothing made any sense anymore and your brain was just refusing to cooperate. All it prompted was that pic Harry had sent you. Honestly, had he sent a cock shot it would've been less shocking.

You leaned back in your chair, sighing heavily. Fuck it. This honestly earned you a half day. But you were trying to be responsible, so you just grabbed your work laptop, deciding to take this home, where you could... focus. 'Cause right now you sure as hell couldn't, not until you did something about that dull ache between your legs.

You didn't even reply to his pic. What was there to say? You were thankful you'd taken your car to work that day, 'cause you just couldn't get home fast enough. You drove in a daze, trying to focus on the traffic ahead and distract yourself, but it was proving quite difficult. You finally, somehow, made it home. You parked your car not too far off from the alley where you'd went down on Harry just 9 days back and the memory of his cum seeping out of the corners of your mouth- because it had just been so much of it that you couldn't swallow fast enough- combined with the fresh visual of it all over your panties was sending you spiraling.

You scurried upstairs to your flat, absolutely desperate to get off. But now that you'd washed your hands and slipped into something more comfortable you decided to take it even further and edge yourself some more. You were already so far gone, you knew it'd be torture but you (not so) secretly loved it.

To make matters even worse, you could "hear" him just as clearly as you had when he'd guided you through it over speakerphone while driving back home, his voice slow, deep and sultry with the faint buzz of his car's engine as background noise.

"Are you comfortable? Yeah? Lights out, all snuggled up under your blanket? Good. I want you to feel the weight of it and imagine it's me hovering over you, pinning you down. There's nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, baby girl. Just close your eyes and listen to my voice."

Your phone chimed, interrupting your rendition momentarily, but your mind blocked it out and managed to get right back into the narrative you'd already gone over way too many times since last Wednesday night.