Harry on the Prairie

Chapter 39

She's laughin' til I get to the "squeeze out a few pups" part, which is when her eyes fly wide open and her mouth flies even wider. "Squeezin' out a few pups?" Her voice is way higher than regular.

"You don't wanna have a houseful of younguns? A passel of pups? With me?" I tickle her and she swats at me.

I practically skip over to the mattress on the floor, turn down the covers, holdin' 'em back with a grin. I wait for her to get in, but she just shakes her head and laughs.

"Harry Styles! If that's not puttin' the cart before the horse, then I don't know what is. I swear, you are so ornery sometimes." Her face and neck blush a right beautiful shade of rose in the lamplight, makin' it so I can barely see her freckles.

"Oh God, no. I, uh — I didn't mean it like that. I mean, not now." My laugh is loud in the closed-up space as I grab her up like a sack of flour and toss her onto the overstuffed mattress. "Now I'm just talkin' 'bout  sleepin' and some cuddles."

Frankie is quick to pull the covers up to her neck as I'm crawlin' up the mattress in her direction. I wiggle myself under the blankets and cozy up to Frankie on my side, proppin' my head up on my elbow to get a good look at her.

"What?" She asks, starin' at the ceilin', holdin' in a giggle.

I run my pointer finger down the bridge of her nose, then skip to her chin, turning her face to me.

"Yes." She states, matter-of-factly.

"Yes, what?" My fingertips cross her cheek softly and there's a slight dip in the mattress as Duke hops up and lays near my feet.

"I'll marry you, Harry." She smiles. "In case my answer wasn't clear earlier. I'll —"

My mouth is on hers before she can finish acceptin' my proposal. She gasps in surprise, her lips part on instinct and my gentle tongue reacts quicker than it does to candied pecans. Her muffled laugh turns into a whimper and my cock responds with an all-too-familiar needy ache. I imagine what it'll be like one day in the not-too-far-off future when I finally get the honor of pushin' into her delicate softness. Just thinkin' 'bout it . . .

"Harry . . . Harry?" Frankie's hands on my cheeks turn my face up so our eyes meet. "Are you alright?"

A bit dazed, I shake my head much like a wet dog would to dry off. I realize I'm on top of Frankie, nestled between her thighs with a boner bigger than a prized hog at the county fair. I'd been rubbin' my privates up against hers hard 'nough to start a fire; thank God we weren't nekkid. Mortified, I scramble offa her as fast as I can and take a tumble onto the basement floor in the process.

"God, Frankie. I'm so . . . I dunno — it's like my thoughts got carried away and took me with 'em . . ."

"It's okay," her voice is sympathetic as she rubs her neck. "I thought you were gettin' a little aggressive there. Get back in bed, Harry." She pulls my side of the blanket back with a giggle.

I drag my sorry ass back in bed and Frankie returns to my arms, none worse for the wear. I'm mutterin' apologies as I push some golden curls away from her cheek. Frankie coos to settle me, and it's then I notice the mark on her neck she musta been rubbin' at a minute ago.

"What on earth?" I explore with a feathered touch and Frankie's cheeks blush a warm pink. Oh, God. "Did I do that? Frankie?"

She's confused only a moment, then realizes, "Harry - oh no, hon . . . I mean, you did get a little, um . . . wild I guess, but it's okay. It's o-kay." She repeats it again, slower, strokin' my cheek.

"No, it's not okay, Frankie —"

"Harry Styles, you listen and you listen good. If you ever do anything that's not okay by me, I will let you know it immediately. Did it ever cross your mind that I let it continue 'cause I liked it? You're not the only one here capable of getting carried away, Mister."

What? She wants me just like I want her? I thought it was always men doing the wantin' and women doin' the turnin' down. A big grin spreads across my face.

"You want me, too? Frankie?"

She blushes every color of pink and red I'm aware of and prob'ly even some that I'm not, and she hurries to hide her face in my neck.

"Say it, Frankie. Tell me you do. Tell me you want me." My voice quivers unexpectedly, causin' Frankie's eyes to promptly return to mine, which are filled with need.

"I do, Harry." She pauses, then pushes herself up against my manhood, almost given' me a heart attack in the process.

"Frankie . . . we can't—"

"I don't mean that, it's just . . ." Flustered, she fumbles for words. "It's just that you've done things to make me feel good. A buncha times. And I—"

"Frankie. Anything we do makes me feel good. You feel good, I feel good. Just countin' your freckles makes me feel good. I don't even have to be touchin' ya at all," I chuckle.

She pouts.

"C'mere." I pull her in for a tight cuddle. Jesus Christ, this boner is never goin' down. 'Specially with all this canoodlin'. She feels it. I know she feels it. She has to.

She looks up at me with big eyes about to lose some of their innocence. Godammit. Why am I hesitatin'? We could die in this storm tonight, and I'd have never known the softness of her hand.

While I'm spendin' entirely too much time hemmin' and hawin' over what to do, in the blink of an eye I'm aware of Frankie's innocence flippin' to curiosity and determination when I feel her fingers fiddle with the drawstring on my long johns.

Somethin' akin to butterflies starts zippin' 'round in my gut and I briefly imagine the plague of the locusts from the Bible, but when Frankie's fingertips trail against the soft flesh 'neath my bellybutton, I know my protestin' days are over.

I feel her eyes watchin' my responses, but I don't have it in me to meet her gaze just yet. My eyes are squinched tight 'til her hand slips 'neath the fabric of my underwears and she idly twirls some of my down there hair between shy but nimble fingers, causin' a groan to fall my lips and my  eyes to fly open soon afterward.

She's watchin' me with a nervous smile. So beautiful. "Frankie . . . you don't have to —"

I'm silenced by her eager lips on mine as she drags the pads of her fingertips up the shaft of my cock towards the tip. My mouth dominates hers, she moans, and it's all too much. I'm too close to stop it.

"Frankie," I murmur into her mouth as I bring my right hand to the front of my longjohns, coverin' her hand with mine and usin' them both to get a couple tugs out of my near empty but thankful dick.