The Difference Between Storm and Silence {Larry}•{BDSM}•{Hybrid}•{MPreg}

Chapter Twenty Eight

Something the man says on the other line has Harry shooting up from the bed. He says a quick, "Hold up," to the man and holds the phone screen to his shoulder. "I'm really sorry, babe, but I have to go. This is really important."

Louis furrows his eyebrows and glances at the digital clock on the nightstand. "Its after midnight, Daddy. You can't go out..."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, but this can't wait. Super super super emergency. Um...at the firm," he swiftly lies, rushing around to grab his jeans and fairly clean T-shirt. He shrugs on his coat and runs back over to Louis, kissing his lips before leaving the room before Louis could utter a word.

The small Sub doesn't get any sleep. He's too worried about his husband, so he just turns off the light and curls into a ball around his belly. He swims in the huge sweater and buries further into it, pulling the collar over his head so that he's covered completely. He shimmys his little feet closer to his body and finally gets them into the sweater, leaving himself a small, black, warm blob in the sea of gray sheets and blankets. He feels his soft blanket by his feet, so pulls it up in between his legs and over his belly, rubbing into it and starting to purr loudly.

That's when he feels it. A very, very, very soft nudge against his side. He gasps and taps the spot again. He feels another nudge, on the complete other side of his belly. "Holy shoot," he mutters. He's not allowed to curse around Harry, so they made up different words to say. Like fudge instead of fuck and crab instead of crap and, of course, shoot instead of shit.

He grins widely and can't suppress his tears. He begins purring loudly and rubbing his belly while simaltaneously rubbing his head and ears against the blanket. His chest vibrates and tongue feels like Jell-o from all the vibrating in his throat.

He can't help it. His stupid pregnancy hormones making everything out of whack for him. He closes his eyes and imagines himself on the floor on his knees. A mixture of water and sweat clinging to his body. Steam envelopes him, hot water cascading onto his body and running down his back and onto the tile floor.

His nails dig into the flesh in front of him as he uses one hand to steady himself, the other to rub something quite hard. A hand tangles itself in his hair, rubbing his ears and yanking harshly. A loud moan emits from his mouth.

"L-lou," a voice above him whimpers. He flutters his eyes open, peeking up through his eyelashes at his Dom, the man dripping wet against the wall of the shower, one hand tangled in Louis' hair and the other grasping tightly at the very top of the shower door. His eyes are shut tightly, his head thrown back against the wall. Water droplets cascade from his sopping wet hair down his pecs and abs, following his vline. Louis catches some in his mouth.

Harry's lip part in a silent "o" as he moans throatily, his back arching off the wall as Louis relaxes his throat, nuzzling his nose against his belly. He squeezes Harry's thigh, their little signal for this sort of thing. Harry immediately nods, gripping the back of Louis' head tightly, thrusting into his mouth.

Louis groans, heat building in his lower abdomen. He keens, grasping Harry's hip to make sure he wont touch himself.

"Such a slut," Harry mumbles. "A little whore for me, huh? Getting yourself off by letting me fuck you face, sweetie? Is this what turns you on?" Now he knows Louis can't answer other than little incoherent whimpers and moans, but he likes to tease.

Harry looks down at him with a smirk while he's looking up. His hair falls from his shoulders, thick, sweet drops of water falling from his full, pink lips and his green eyes red rimmed, completely wrecked. With the knowledge that he could do that to his Dom, that he could wreck him by wrapping his pretty little lips around his big girth, he cums harshly around his stomach, his throat constricting and whole body lurching forward.