a/n: it's been a while !
Chapter 45
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I didn't book the fanciest room for our stay. Finding a suite to be unnecessary, I settled for a regular room with a queen-sized bed on the ground floor. It was small with white walls and orange ceramic tiled flooring, but at least there was a sliding door that led to the beach.
Harry walks into the hotel room behind me with our travel bags. He sets them on the floor while taking a look around at the tight space we had. Remembering my claim of the bed, he heads for the couch tucked into the corner near the AC unit.
Like the car ride here, he's silent. I can't tell what's on his mind this time. Maybe he remains sad over Sage.
Instead of going over to console him, I lift my bag off the floor where he'd left it and I take it with me into the bathroom.
Small as the room, it's clean and comfortable rather than luxurious. I don't mind it at all, though.
After shutting the door, I lift my duffel bag onto the countertop to open it. I don't plan on staying in the hotel room for the rest of the night—especially when evening has only begun. So, I pick out an outfit before I proceed to freshen up.
I apply makeup on, covering the bags under my eyes that have gotten worse, I've noticed. Perfecting my eyeliner, I then apply mascara to my lashes. I think back to the makeup tips Sutton gave me.
I miss her.
Shaking my head, I push aside the fact that I've been avoiding her texts. Although it makes me feel like the worst person in the world, it's to keep her out of my mess.
I get dressed, putting on a skin-tight red dress to match the color of my lips. Fixing the spaghetti straps over my shoulders, I then run fingers through the ends of my hair to let waves fall into place. To keep the wind from blowing in my face, I decide to pin the front pieces of my hair back. Last, I slip on strappy heels that I successfully lace up above my ankles.
Finished and satisfied with my appearance, I clean up after myself and zip up my bag.
I leave the bathroom and I drop my duffel bag onto the floor near the bed I've claimed. With only a shoulder bag that contains my cellphones, cash, lipstick, and room key, I finally lift my head to acknowledge Harry. He's already staring.
"I'll be back," I tell him and with that, I head towards the door.
"Wait. Where are you going?" he asks, rising from the couch. When I look over my shoulder, I see he only wears a white muscle tank top with a pair of gym shorts. It's as if he was ready to crash for the night.
"It's been a long day. An emotional one, too. I just want to have a drink and maybe take a walk," I tell him.
"Not alone you're not," Harry says.
With my hand on the doorknob, I turn around to face him. I lean back against the wall and watch as he begins to search his bag. "Why not alone? I can take care of myself," I say, though I don't feel confident when I say that.
Harry glances at me as he throws on a white short-sleeved buttoned shirt. Keeping it apart, he then takes off his shorts to replace them with tan slacks. He then chuckles. "I just want a drink, too."
"Right," I say, pushing myself off the wall. "Well, hurry up." As I open the door, I give him one last look before walking out to leave him behind. He was sliding feet into his white shoes by the time I was out of the room.
I can hear music from a distance, Latin and heart-thumping, from where I stand outside of the room and in front of the car park. The breeze comes through and it isn't like the Nevada warmth I've missed—it's crisp instead. I start to walk towards the rhythmic sound, following the cobblestone path. Around the corner of the hotel, it's when I spot the string lights, the line of catering food trucks, a bar in the form of a hut, and then the beach.
Amazed, I approach the lively scene where many people gather around—most in groups or pairs and others alone.
In Vegas, where everything is built to mimic cities like Paris or Italy, the sight before me doesn't compare. I smile when it hits me that I'm in the presence of something beautiful. I can't let the reason why I'm here in the first place taint my experience.
I make it to the beach bar hut and I boost myself up onto an empty barstool. Setting my handbag on the tabletop, it isn't long until I'm approached by a bartender. I smile when I'm greeted. Though, I don't get to greet back when Harry has officially caught up to me.
"You couldn't have waited five more sec—"
"Hi! I'll... I think I'll have a beer," I interrupt Harry to order.
"And for you, sir?" Harry is asked by the bartender with an accent.
In the barstool beside me, he lifts his arms to rest it in a cross on the table. "The same. Thanks."
I look at him as he sits on my left. Sitting up in my seat, I cross my arms on the table as well. "How are you?" I decide to ask because a deep part of me knows it would be insensitive if I don't ask. The man subtly cried in my arms in the airport parking garage because he was overwhelmed. Little does he know, I would've held him a bit longer if he hadn't been the one to part first.
"I'm okay," he says softly, but he doesn't look at me when he says it. "You?"
I hum, letting my eyes fall onto my hands. "I would say never better but—" As if on cue, we're giving our chilled bottles of beer with a lime wedge stuffed into the rim.
"Gracias!" I say to the bartender.
"Provecho."
"But?" Harry then asks when he wants to hear what else I had to say.
Squeezing the lime wedge, I then tap it to let it plop into my drink. It dives deep into the beverage before it rises back onto the surface. "I learned that my grandpa was the leader of a gang and that my mom failed to mention it when I told her I was moving to LA to get to know him." I bring the bottle to my lips to take my first sip.
"Would it have changed things? If she told you, I mean."
I pause, setting the bottle down gently. Looking at him again, I begin to search my thoughts. "I mean... yeah. For starters, I wouldn't have moved. I wouldn't have bothered to get to know him if it meant he was involved with violence."
He's pressing his lips together. After taking his own drink, he then licks his lips and says, "I don't think that's true. You still would've moved. You're just speaking out of frustration."
With what he says, I frown. "Oh... You think you know me better than I know myself?" I take offense.
"No," he shuts me down. "Because you once said evil is taught and not something you are. Your granddad was the leader of a gang, yes, but originally it wasn't with the intention to be violent. If your mum would have told you who your granddad really was, you wouldn't have thought less of him. Just like the way you didn't think less of me. You know, before I... did what I did."
He leaves me stumped when he reminds me of the words I've said to him before. Even though his eyes have shifted away from mine, I remain staring at him. Maybe he's right. Maybe I am talking out of frustration. Maybe I'm hurting for the innocent lives taken from the effects of the gang violence and maybe my anger is being misdirected.
Searching for more clarity, I ask him, "Did you personally know my grandpa?" I take another lengthy drink.
He shakes his head. "Personally, no. He was like a myth or a legend. He was untouchable and barely even seen. All I knew when I joined Dante's gang is that he wanted to take Angelo Veca down. I can't tell you why, because even I don't know, but I'm sure he was envious of his power."
Taking another drink, I then hum. "When you say power," I begin, searching for a clearer definition.
"I mean his protection under the cartel, his riches—"
"His riches?" I interrupt. "I'm sorry, what riches? My grandpa lived in the same home my mom grew up in. Needless to say, it wasn't entirely the nicest house on the block."
Licking his lips, Harry looks at me again. "Dirty money, Jo. It was money he couldn't use to buy a nicer home without the bank wondering where the hell it all came from. Besides, it's all gone now. Dante got a hold of it all shortly after your granddad died."
"Oh," I say softly and take another drink of my beer.
He's answered my questions so far. Going out on a whim, I decide to say, "I want to know how you ended up here. In detail. I want to know your age. I want to know about your obsession with strawberry soda. I want to know... everything so I know whether or not to trust any word you say again." I'm left to hope that I get to learn a little bit more.
He falls silent beside me as if he didn't expect me to ask for his life story. He then lifts the bottle to his mouth for another sip. His eyes flicker onto the screen mounted near the shelves of bottled liquor. He's looking at the televised soccer game, but I don't think he's paying attention. I would have called it stalling, but he finally says, "I only ever liked one foster home. The others were shit except for one. They made me feel at home. I mean, they took time to teach me how to read and other things I was delayed on. My foster dad had a sweet tooth. I didn't even know flavored soda existed until he offered me some. I don't know... I guess I drink it because it reminds me of the comfort I once had in that home. I know it's stupid. But, um, I was around twelve while I was living with them."
He meets my eyes, finally when I whisper, "That's not stupid." Intently listening, I hadn't realized our elbows were touching above the table. I don't shift away. "What happened? How long did you live with them?" I ask.
"There was this other kid in the foster home... Who they must've liked more than me. For starters, the kid was smart. I lived with them for about a year, longer than him, but they adopted him instead."
I hate that for him.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be," he assures and he takes a break to drink again. "I lived in and out of many homes. The older I got, the less I was wanted. But I accepted the fact that I would never be adopted. At sixteen, I started to work. At seventeen, I got a license and bought a piece of crap car. At eighteen, I lived in that piece of crap car for a while."
I hum with my chin resting above my palm and with my hand wrapped around the almost empty bottle of beer. "You said you made some friends? How did you meet them?"
His eyes shift away from me again to look at his hand above the table. He then lifts it, only to turn the pearl ring around his finger. He fiddles with it and says, "Yeah, my car broke down one day and there was this guy who decided to help me. After trying to fix it together, we realized there was no use. The piece of crap was done for. This guy then realized I was living in it. It's when he offered me a hand and a place to stay. He took me back to a flat where four other people were living. They all shared a two-bedroom place. It was chaotic, but it worked."
"I can imagine," I say in response to the chaos he mentioned. "Then what happened? Did you become their roommate?"
"I did... I lived with them. Of course, with so many people squeezed into a tiny flat, it can get frustrating. It sure as hell frustrated this one girl. She hated me," he tells me but with a smile on his face. "She hated me, even more, when the guy who first helped me suggested for her to give me a job at her tattoo parlor. She had no choice but to teach me everything about body piercing."
Done with our beer, the bartender has offered us another. I accept with a quick smile before looking at Harry again.
Although he tells me about a girl who hated him, it's hard to believe he hated her back. Not when he smiled the way he did. I then pause when I remember that I had asked him how he got into body piercing back in Las Vegas. He's mentioned this girl to me before, but briefly and without much context. "What was she like?" I ask out of curiosity when her significance is apparent.
He shrugs. "Stubborn, a bit of a bitch, but she valued friendship. She was just making me earn her kindness since, according to her, the world had never been kind to her. She was too good for it anyway."
I feel my heart drop at the reminder that the girl he's talking about is dead. He stops fidgeting with his ring when we're brought a new bottle of beer. I then ask, "You don't have to answer... but was she like your girlfriend or something?"
He looks at me. He begins to shake his head.
"Were you like... in love with her?" I ask when curiosity nudges me. It's hard to believe Harry has ever felt the kind of love that runs so deep. Perhaps, the loss or unrequited love could play a role behind his complexity.
"That's the thing... she was killed before I ever got the chance to feel that deep. She was just my friend who had a pretty name and she wore pearls, but then she was killed for being involved with shit she shouldn't have been involved in."
"Shit, I'm sorry."
"Don't be," he says again before heaving a sigh and taking another drink.
"But I am. I'm sorry for your losses..." I lick my lips and I look down when it falls quiet again. Shortly, I ask, "After that, it's when you came to LA? Why LA?"
"No real reason besides the fact that I wanted to get away. Though, history repeated itself. Dante found me, offered me a hand, and took me in except for a price. I was about twenty, I think, when he had six people beat the shit out of me."
"To recruit you in his gang?"
He nods. "It was the worst beating I've ever taken in my life. I think it's what started the fucking tremors... But um, I've been Dante's right-hand man for about seven years."
"You've been loyal to him for that long?"
"I mean it when I told you that I had no choice in deceiving you, Jo... I didn't enjoy it. I think Dante made me use you to test my loyalty again. I don't know, but he controls every little aspect of my life. Like my money, for example. Even if I compensated you, repaid you the four hundred grand, it wouldn't go by unnoticed. What I gave Sage's mom, it's what I've been storing on the side for years."
I'm starting to feel numb as I'm chugging down the beer. I understand his situation, mostly because I'm in a similar one and I can't tell him about it. Not when it means I might risk my parents' lives.
I'm the liar now.
"So, you're twenty-seven?" I deflect from my guilt after doing the math.
"Yeah."
After the last sip of my second beer, I hum. "So, not pushing forty as I originally thought."
I make him laugh and look away. "Fuck off," he mumbles to me before finishing his drink as well.
I sit up, searching for the bartender as I lean forward. Smiling when he comes back, I ask about the types of tequila he had to offer to lighten the mood. I think he's told me enough for the night. Although it's expensive, I end up ordering Harry and me a round of Clase Azul.
"It's on me," I say to Harry.
He watches me as the bartender has poured us expensive tequila shots. I think a part of me hopes he grows suspicious behind my spendings. It would save me from having to break Louis's order if Harry figures it out for himself that I'm being used again.
"Cheers?" I lift the neat tequila shot.
His tired eyes meet mine again through the eruption of screams when a goal has been made on the televised soccer game. I break my stare from him to look all around me. Smiling over the excitement, I laugh and look at Harry again.
Tapping his glass with mine, finally, he says, "Cheers, Jo."
I bring the glass to my lips. With a chuckle, I then tilt my head back to take the smooth liquor down. I barely make a face from it and neither does Harry. I smile as I watch him nod as if he enjoyed the taste.
"Good, huh?" I bite my red lip and I shift when it's starting—the swarming heat forming at the apex of my thighs. It happens every time I drink.
In agreement, he says, "Really fucking good. Do you want another?"
I swallow as I bring my thighs to a squeeze. As appealing as his offer sounds, I recognize my limit so I shake my head. "No, thanks." I then turn my head towards the sand where people have gathered. Under the string lights and to similar Latin music now ten times louder, bodies are dancing. I begin to unlace the strings of my strappy heels when I want to join.
"What are you doing?" Harry asks when he notices I'm taking off my heels.
With a grin, I hop off the barstool to set my heels on top of it. I then grab my shoulder bag. I unzip for cash and once I lie it on the table, I look at him. "I'm gonna dance."
With bare feet, I jog on over to the sand. Feeling the bass of the music in my chest, it's when I begin to sway. I tilt my head over to look for Harry near the bar. He's leaning back against the tabletop with thighs spread where he sits. I grin to think he's watching.
Tiene a to' lo' nene' loco y a la nena' loca'
To' quieren besarle la boca, hey
Mírala cómo se toca
Bailando e' que me provoca
With the people all around me, I move with the fun beat as I take my hands to roam it across my body. Swaying my hips, I smile when I'm approached by a man.
Young and in a muscle tee, his arms are colorful from a tattooed sleeve. I turn to him, allowing myself to dance close to him without touching.
When he greets me, I step even closer to say back, "Hi!"
"On vacation?" He asks.
"Yup!" I turn around, grinning from the way the stranger closes the space between us.
"I'm Jason," he introduces, but I ignore him. Learning from my mistakes, I don't plan on telling another stranger my name. I only hum to continue dancing along to the music.
I feel warmth in my cheeks as I close my eyes then feel the stranger grind up against me. With his hands on my hips, I sway while lowering myself. I come back up only to feel his warm breath by my ear.
"You're not going to tell me your name?" He asks and before I could even shake my head, I'm tugged by the hand.
I open my eyes again as I'm twirled. I gasp when my back has crashed against Harry's front like the waves against the shore. I look ahead to find Jason glaring at Harry for stealing me the way he did. Submissively, he gives me up when I lift my free hand to run them into the curls behind me.
After grinding myself against him, my mouth falls open when I feel a jolt of teasing pleasure shoot through me.
My sudden movement has caused the stupid piercing to rub my clit. I bring my bottom lip between my teeth when fingers drag along the sides of my hips and towards my waist. He elicits a sweet shiver as he breathes behind me.
The song has come to an end and I'm left frozen by his chilling closeness. A slower song begins to play and that's when I turn to look at him. Absentmindedly, my arm finds its way around his shoulders.
"I was dancing with him," I say, breathing out when he stands tall over me.
Looking at my mouth, he asks, "I'm sorry, who?"
I grin as my other hand reaches for his bicep. As I move to the rhythm again, he can't seem to meet my eyes under the orange lights above our heads. "The guy you pulled me away from. Don't play dumb," I tease.
With a sharper jaw, he hums low and lifts his green eyes. "Oh," he then says. "You mean the guy with the colored sleeve. I mean, getting a colored tattoo is bad enough but a sleeve?" He scoffs which makes me grin.
"What? What's wrong with that? I thought it was hot," I say to him as his hands hold my waist. My heels, I notice, hang from his wrist.
"You thought that was hot?"
As I continue to sway against his body, I tug at his hair gently to bring him a little closer. "I did," I whisper when I watch his head hang low. "That doesn't bother you, does it?"
With hungry eyes on my chest, I push my long hair off of my shoulders. He then takes in my neck before his eyes are on my mouth again. "And if I told you it does?"
I release a breath, watching the way he stares. I delicately hum when I tug at his hair again. I watch his chin lift as I lower my hips in motion to grind against his left thigh. "Then," I pause when I feel a sensation that causes me to tighten my grip on him. "that would really suck for you."
This wasn't my intention. I left the hotel room with the purpose to let loose and not getting this close to him again. Though, his hands on my body are making me reconsider.
I want him.
At the drop of a beat, I'm turned the other way again. I let out a giggle when my ass is met with his crotch. With my toes in the cold sand and a tilted head back against his shoulder, he feels across my stomach as we move in sync.
"I need you," I hear him. It was low and near my neck, but I heard him. I lift my head again with red-stained cheeks from his little confession that feeds the needy part of me.
"Huh?" I tilt my head, not looking at him directly in the eye as I stare at his mouth.
Slow in our movements, Harry's fingers find their way to brush across my throat. He looks at me when he repeats, "I need you... For the longest, I fucking needed you."
His words and the alcohol in my system are what sends me into a hormonal rage. I release a pant when being needed feels good. My piercing and all the dancing also play a part in me feeling good.
I reach for his hand to lift it off of me. Though, I keep my hand in his as I turn around and face him again. Taking a step back, I pull him along to get away from the dance scene. "Then have me."
Smirking, I face forward again to stomp over the sand to reach the sidewalk again. Though, before stepping onto the cement, I halt. "Wait! Hand my heels over?"
"No time," he dismisses, making me gasp when he lifts me into a scoop. I laugh as my arm hooks around his shoulders. When his white vans step above the grainy cement, he begins to walk.
"Eager?" I taunt, tucking slightly overgrown hair behind his ear. "Or are you just being kind?"
"Both?"
I let out a laugh. "You? Kind? Just admit that you're eager, there's no need to lie," I tease with fingers tracing across his jaw. I hum again, near his ear when I delicately stroke my tongue along his earlobe.
"Fine... I'm eager," he groans when he's almost to our hotel. "So fucking eager when I haven't fucked you in weeks."
"Ah," I tut. "Who said anything about fucking?" I spike an eyebrow and his pace has come to a stop. It's as if I just took away his horny dreams.
"Am I not deserving enough to fuck you again, Jo?" He looks me in the eyes when he asks. He's serious, but I can see the dimple on his cheek wanting to sink.
"Hm, do you think you are?" I look at his lips and slowly he begins to walk again. Instead of the row of our hotel room, he heads for the nearest wall.
"It doesn't matter what I think," he tells me as he lets go of the hook from my legs only to shift me. Effortlessly, I'm tossed to have my legs cling around his hips. I giggle through it as my back touches the wall and as my red dress rides so far up along my thighs. "It matters what you think, sweet girl. So, tell me... Do I have to work harder?"
I don't pay attention to my surroundings when he's in front of me this way. The way he stares, it's hard to tell if people are around us or not. "Sweet girl?" I stall. "That's new. You've never called me that before."
"Should I start?" He asks by my ear and my lips part from the way he kisses at my jaw. "Sweet girl."
Tilting my head to one side, my eyes shut to feel his soft kisses down to my shoulder. "No," I whisper when I tighten my thighs around him. "What if I don't want to be sweet or thought of as just a girl, hm?"
He bites my shoulder and it causes my hips to jolt up against him. I almost moan at the scrape of his teeth. He then asks, "What do you want to be called? Angel baby?" He's lifted his head as my hand slides onto his cheek. Biting my lip, I feel the tip of his nose brush against mine.
"Fuck, no," I mumble and shake my head. "Anything but that... C'mon, don't go soft on me now, Styles."
"I'm not fucking soft."
I moan softly when I roll my hips into him again. "You're right... you're so hard and big, too, aren't you?" I smirk as I remain close to his mouth. "Where's the guy who would call me a slut? Or the one who said he should've killed me? Not going to lie, that excited me because I know you don't have the actual balls—"
He shuts my drunken words with a grip on my throat. I whimper, closing my eyes when his mouth hovers mine. "Watch your fucking mouth," he warns as my hand finds his wrist to hold.
"Or what?" I whisper underneath his heavy pant.
"Or I'll give you something to gag on like the fucking slut you are."
I open my eyes again when he lets go of my neck. He then lifts my chin as he takes his lengthy fingers into my open mouth. I meet his gape before he mutters the word, "Suck."
I wrap my lips around his fingers, feeling his digits drag across my tongue. Humming, I suck with a gentle head bob. "Such good fingers," I whisper after parting. I then smirk as I see the red stain of my lipstick smeared by his rings.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," I respond as he freely squeezes at my ass. As I push his fallen curls back, my eyes won't fixate anywhere else but on his lips. "but they'd be better if... they were fingering my pussy."
I grin when the filthy words that slipped off my tongue make him groan. I take his cheeks into my hands when I'm tempted to kiss him. Though, I resist the urge.
"I'll finger that sweet little cunt of yours... Just say the words and I'll finger fuck you like a whore right here."
He gets a soft moan out of me.
I hate that I missed his mouth—the words that come out of it and the things he could do with it.
I tilt my head, brushing my lips on his. When he leans forward, I lean back. "Not here," I mumble. I have other plans. "Take me to our room."
And with that, I wrap my arms around his neck again when he pulls me from the wall. I don't care who walks past us at this point, I plant cherry-stained kisses from the crook of his neck and to the bottom of his ear.
Making it to our room, there was a moment of struggle over searching for the key in my tiny handbag. Once the door unlocked, I asked him to put me down. I then grab onto his white shirt as he steps into the room ahead of me. I practically yank it off of him and I smirk when he turns around.
"Don't touch me," I warn when he's about to take me into his arms again. Tossing his shirt on the floor, leaving him in his tank top, I step forward when the door shuts behind me. I shove at his chest. "If you want to touch me, you're going to have to work harder for it."
He steps back from my shove. Hungry eyes on my body don't leave as we carry ourselves like meat-deprived animals towards the bed. I push him onto it and it isn't long before I plant my knees between his parted thighs.
"Tell me what you want from me, needy little fuck."
Raising the ends of my dress, I grin over what he calls me. "It's not what I want from you," I begin to say as I peel the tight dress off my body and over my head. I release a sigh when I sit with bent knees in nothing but my underwear. Roughly, I take his chin between my fingertips. I make him look at me rather than my exposed breasts when I feel braver than ever.
Our foreheads touch as he has hands behind him to keep him up. My free hand begins to roam up his thigh as he asks in a whisper, "Then what is it?"
"I... I want you to know what it feels like to be used," I say, keeping myself from letting me grab at the stiffness in his pants. "So you don't get to touch me... not until I need you to touch me, got it?"
My hand slips off his face when he nods. I prop myself up onto my knees again only to undress myself further.
"Kind of ironic that you showed up at my door around the time my piercing got healed, don't you think?" I then tease, letting myself grin when I push my underwear off.
"A coincidence, really," he responds with a grin that matches mine. "but fuck did it heal nicely."
I sit with bent knees between his thighs again and I nod with a hum. "You were so right about the heightened pleasure, by the way," I say while bringing fingers to my mouth to lick.
"Did you play with it often?"
Nodding, a moan leaves my mouth when I touch it. In a circular motion, the nerves of my clit send pleasuring waves from the metal ball of my piercing. "Mm, I did... but I wasn't the first to play with it."
His eyes lift from my teasing fingers to look me in the eye from my revelation. I can't tell if that upsets him when the frown on his face is practically permanent.
"You've been fucking around, D'Amore?"
I let my mouth fall open as I begin to roll my hips into my needy fingertips. "I have... Fuck, I met this really cute girl and she fucked me so good."
And this time, I'm not lying to him.
He sucks in a breath, sitting up when he watches me drag my fingertips down to my entrance. He bites his lip when he watches me take my two fingers with such ease. He doesn't say anything. He grips the sheets underneath his palms instead.
Gasping from the forthcoming pleasure of my strokes, I smirk from the way he looks at me. "My, fuck... I came so hard for her, too," I taunt with a moan.
He leans forward and I'm about to tell him not to, but the breath against my neck sparks a set of shivers that ignites something inside of me. Especially when he says, "I wanted to be the first to play with that pretty piercing."
Quickening the pace of my fingers, I whimper and loll my head back when Harry bites at my neck. His teeth scrape at my skin before he breaks a layer with a sharp suck. "Too... Too fucking bad." I groan as my hips writhe from my touch. "Spit on me... spit on my pretty piercing, please," I then beg because I want nothing more than him to claim me.
"Only because you said please like a good little whore," he teases as I extract my fingers to give him room to use his mouth.
Hunching over, he spits right onto my clit. I hum from his aim and I smirk when my rolling hips cause his dripping saliva to mix with my arousal. Rubbing him all over my flesh, I dip two fingers in myself again. I break into a moan as I pump at the pace I've learned to enjoy. Slow, my fingertips find the rough spot. My cheeks feel hot and the whimpers from my mouth grow never-ending.
"You're close to making yourself cum, aren't you?" He whispers near my mouth. "Come on, little whore... Just like that."
His praise has me shutting my eyes to focus on the pleasure. I'm forgetting how to breathe the more I hit the spot that causes my clit to throb. I'm nodding, keeping my head back as I begin to feel kisses against my throat. "Ah!" I release after holding back.
"That's it... You're doing so good."
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I curse when I feel the burning build-up of an orgasm rising. As I fuck myself quicker, I feel his closeness as I approach my high.
Then I grow rigid. Without a gasp or moan, my body causes me to remain silent when it hits me hard, but not for as long as I wished. I'm finally panting.
My aching fingers are wet and dripping from my essence after making myself cum. I breathe out with a final hum before lifting my hands to lick and suck my fingers off clean.
"Use me," he then mutters. "As much as you want, baby. Let me be your fuck toy, for fucks sake... Let me touch you and let me fucking eat you."
His words make me pant harder than my own undoing. Dropping my gaze onto his mouth, I have to give in as my insides clench when I suddenly feel like I've been edged. I begin to nod. "Eat me."
I grunt, my fingers finding their claim into his curls when he leans in for my sternum to wetly kiss. On my knees again, he roughly takes my ass into his hands.
Fuck.
It's not that I forgot he had a tongue piercing. I didn't know what to expect when it came to it. I look down as the metal ball on his tongue circles my perked nipple. I moan when he sucks and it's enough to make me drip along my aching thighs.
When he treats my other nipple, I didn't expect to feel the heat in my lower belly as if another orgasm is pooling. Though my thighs begin to shake and to top it all off, he fills me with his fingers. There's a difference between my touch and his own.
I hate that I prefer the way he makes me feel.
"Oh, God," I whine from the rough suck of my sensitive nipple. Gripping at his hair, my hips uncontrollably grind onto his fingers inside of me. His tongue then flicks and the contact with the metal ball is what makes me clench around his quick finger fuck. I'm gasping for air.
The fucker has me trembling already. "Yes, yes!" I groan and the moment he curls his fingers in my tight cunt, I almost scream but the orgasm leaves me in shock again. With mouth agape and eyes shut so tightly I almost see vibrant colored stars, my thighs don't stop shaking until Harry has fingered through my longer orgasm.
"Fuck!" I let out through an elated yelp. I open my eyes only to see a smug grin across Harry's face from what he's done to me. I struggle to breathe or let go of his hair when he pecks a kiss between my breasts.
"I fucking missed you."
I release my grip on his hair when I hear him whisper another confession to me—against my skin, this time. I sigh out of surprise because I didn't think he missed me.
I didn't think that maybe I missed him, too.
Though, silent in my movements, I make him lie back. My mouth latches onto his as I hover over his body. I kiss him as my bare hips straddle his clothed lap. I instantly hum from the stiffness in his pants. So sensitive, I have to lift myself off when his tongue invites into my mouth.
Delicate with his hands, I feel them trace up along my back and then shoulder blades. I lower my hips again, making him groan as I've rubbed along his shaft underneath all the layers.
His deep kiss doesn't move fast once. He remains slow as if he's taking me in or making it last. He then clears my face by pushing my hair back that had fallen forward.
"Sit on my face," he whispers the moment we mutually part. "I need your fucking taste on my tongue."
My lips part at the thought of his mouth on me being as soft as his kiss. I would fucking lose it if he licked me that sensual.
Without hesitation, I eagerly comply. I rise to my knees and I make my way towards his face. "What a fuck toy," I taunt to which he smirks.
"What a needy slut," he taunts back and I hum when I hover my core over his mouth. I suck in a breath when he's the one to smack my thighs and tug me onto a sit above his mouth. Instantly, I moan as his pierced tongue glides through my slit.
"Oh, fuck!" I groan when the pleasure hits me without much time to prepare. Even if I wanted to lift myself, I can't. Harry's grip on my thighs keeps me in place. I'm gasping when the tip of his nose hits at my pierced clit and it sends me into another orgasm-building spiral.
As the ball through the center of his tongue digs and teases my aching entrance, it isn't long before he shakes his head. I squirm, yelping as the soft tongue strokes turn into vibrations with the way he guides it. His nose, it continues to nudge at my clit.
"Oh, fuck! Harry, fuck!" I shout when my thighs tremble all over again. I bring myself forward to grip onto the sheets above his head.
My hips jerk as I grow anxious over the thought if I'm suffocating him. The moment he moans, however, I straighten my posture again. A shot of dopamine relaxes my nerves and instead of the sheets, I grip onto his hair.
Ravenously or making up for lost time, it's like every little reason to stay mad at him has vanished. I cup at my breasts, cursing his name, but as a way to thank him for making me feel the erotic bliss I've missed. Fuck, I could sit on his face all day if my body had the stamina.
He has me close at the tip of his tongue and nose already. "Harry! Harry, I'm gonna—" Spilling before I even get a chance to warn him, he releases my thighs to finally allow himself to breathe. Yet, he cleans me with his sweet tongue strokes, collecting every drop of the mess he's made out of me. I pant as I fall forward. I'm trying to control my breathing, but I can't when the effects of three orgasms in a row are making me writhe uncontrollably while remaining untouched.
Harry sits up, humming as he then flips to get on his knees and hover on top of me. "How are you feeling?" he asks in a muted tone over the small of my back. He breathes against me and my naked body shivers because of my heightened senses.
"Numb," I whisper back but with a grin when I glance over my shoulder to look at him.
"Is that right?" He rises to get near my face. Breathing heavily, still, he then kisses my shoulder.
"Mhm." I close my eyes. "But fuck me, please."
I don't have to tell him twice. With a smirk, Harry begins to undo his pants. I push my knee up to give him plenty of access to take me from behind.
Impatient, I whine, "Hurry, baby. I need you so fucking bad."
"Fuck, I missed you," he tells me again as he eagerly kicks his pants off.
His words alone make me moan and rest my head above my spread arm. "I didn't," I lie to him and bite back a smirk.
He gives me a throaty groan before making me gasp from the way he dips his hard length into me. He takes me raw and without a barrier the way we grew accustomed to.
"Who's the filthy little liar now, hm?" he calls me out and the twisted reason behind his degradation doesn't bother me—not the way it would've before. I moan instead.
"Still... you," I grunt from the tight grip on my ass. I yelp the moment he then spanks my skin. I clench around him from the shock and it's when he props me up onto my knees.
"Sh, sh..." He rubs over the sting he's left on my right cheek. I bring the top half of my body up, holding my position against my elbows. I dip my head when Harry's thrust turns deep, causing my body to jerk forward every time. "What matters now... s'that I don't plan to fucking leave you again."
I groan. From the 'I miss you' to making a promise I doubt he could ever keep, it adds fuel to the heat in my chest anyway. It's dangerous, but I go with it. "Yeah?"
"Mm," he drags out a hum, slowing down at his thrusts as I feel him lean forward to breathe by my neck. "I might just fuck a baby in you."
Fuck.
I let out a short laugh when I don't know what to say to something so erratic as that. Through colored-cerise cheeks and chest, I then tell him, "Is that what you want? You played daddy for a day and now you want to fuck a baby in me?" I gasp when his words only seem to make my hips grind along his throbbing cock.
He chuckles by my ear as I feel his dick pulsate along my walls. "Is that so wrong?"
I close my eyes when he tugs at my earlobe with his teeth. "Y-Yeah," I'm honest. "Bet it'll give you another reason to abandon me."
He sucks in a breath by my words. "No, no... Another reason to stay," he taunts and reaches for my hand. I let him bring it over the bottom of my belly. "Now feel how fucking deep I am inside of you."
I suck in a breath when Harry thrusts forward. With my palm pressed flat against his skin, I feel him. I feel him again when he rolls into me with a heavier force. "Fuck," he moans for me.
"Now let me come inside of you as if this dick is just for you." He's adding more fuel onto the scorching wildfire that has spread down to my toes.
I move up onto my knees again when his hand grabs my throat. He makes me slam against his front. I moan through his quicker thrusts. I wouldn't be able to keep myself up if it wasn't for the opposite arm across my tits. "Sh-Shit!" I stammer when I can feel him bringing me closer already. "Do it," I then coax, despite the birth control I'm on that will prevent such a thing. "Cum inside of me, please. Fuck! You know how fucking needy I am."
He blocks my airways with a tight grip on my neck. Slamming into me hard, I squirm through a breathless and inaudible whine. I reach for his arm with one hand as the other slams against his thigh to hold on. As he causes a sensation to rip through me inside out, I claw at his skin.
My body jerks before growing stiff. Still, without being able to breathe, I don't need to when I've been hit ten times harder by pure addicting ecstasy.
Fuck.
He's moaning in my ear, reminding me that I'm such a slut as he's getting himself off. I smirk, soaking up every ounce of pleasure, through it all.
He rides through my prominent orgasm before releasing inside of me. I'm finally breathing, taking in as much-needed air as I can, when he's let go of my neck. I even break out into a cough when my lungs have been overwhelmed.
Removing his twitching length, I look down and moan when I practically ooze out our sticky mess.
Tired and out of breath, I reach down for my sensitive clit. I groan as I feel it pulsate from the constant stimulation it experienced. I'm such a mess when I realize I don't stop spilling. My legs, but maybe the rest of my body, too, trembles from the intensity of it all.
Sliding hands down my sides, Harry hums but my shoulder then says, "Let me get you cleaned up, yeah?"
I feel cold the moment he leaves and takes his body heat with him. I crawl, carefully, to sit back against the headboard of the bed with parted thighs. I look over to see Harry come back. He has a towel over his shoulder as he remains in his tank top and briefs. On his way to me, he grabs bottled water from the mini-fridge.
I breathe out, remaining in the process of regulating my breaths. I watch as he climbs onto the bed again to reach my side.
"Here," he whispers as takes the towel to wipe down my wet thighs. Unfamiliar with this kind of treatment, I don't want to say or do anything to scare him off. I kind of enjoy the attentiveness. "Is this okay?" he then asks, which allows me to give him a head nod.
He cleans me up and I slowly bring my thighs together. I hum when they can't seem to stop shaking.
"Water?" He then offers.
"Sure," I whisper, meeting his eyes as he's unscrewed the cap of the bottle. Timidly, I take it from his hand and have a sip. A sip turns into a gulp. After quenching my thirst, I hand the bottle to him to let him drink, too. "Thank you... I'll be back. I'm going to the bathroom."
"Hold on," he stops me, lifting an arm only to reach behind him. He pulls off his tank in one swift movement to let me wear it.
"Going soft on me?" I can't help but tease as I gladly take his shirt. Flipping it right side out, I then throw it over my body.
"Never," he says with a short huff as I gather my hair out from underneath.
"Sure," I whisper again, but this time with a laugh. I then turn my body to let my feet touch the cold floor.
Standing on my weak legs was a challenge. I stand there for a moment, afraid to take a step, and it amuses Harry. "If you need me to carry you to the bathroom, just say so," he teases me.
"Fuck off."
Watching as I begin to take slow steps on my journey to the bathroom, he laughs.
When I make it, I turn on the lights and I'm met with my reflection in the mirror. Shutting the door behind me, I ashamedly look away.
I didn't plan for this. To make things easier, I wasn't going to ever let it get this far again. Though desire had fueled the temptation and now there's nothing I can do.
If the damage is done, then so be it.
After going the extra step in completing after-sex care in the bathroom, I take the step in completing self-care by washing my face clean. Finally, I brush my teeth for the night.
Walking back out onto the dimmed hotel room, Harry claims a side on the bed. He waits for me with an open arm and I can't say it doesn't excite me. I can't say it doesn't confuse me either.
Because I've been burnt in the past, I ask, "What are you doing?"
"Waiting to hold you?" he explains in the form of a question as if it had been common sense.
Sitting down on the bed, I scoot close to him. "But why?"
Harry licks his lips, keeping an arm spread out for me as I keep a short distance. "Because... I want to make up for all those nights I've wanted to hold you but didn't allow myself to because of what I was keeping for you."
Oh.
"No more secrets, Jo."
Well, shit.
"But if you don't want to—" he then says when he notices I haven't said a word in return. "You know what, erase this. I'll sleep on the couch like we originally planned."
"No," I stop him when he sits up. "Stay."
The tables seemed to have turned and I don't like it, but having no choice I simply go along with it. Selfishly, I don't want to give up an opportunity to be held. So, I scoot even closer. I let myself lie back before turning to get in a spooning position. Instantly, I feel him lie with me.
He adjusts the covers over us. I then feel him slide his arm around my body to hug from behind. Feeling his warmth and taking in his scent, I've never felt so secure—the guilt adds on.
"I'm so tired," I then softly say as I let my eyes shut.
"Then sleep, darling... I'll see you in the morning," he whispers, so domestically, I feel the butterflies because of it.
With that, I nod and ignore the fact that I'll be doing something illegal against my will in less than forty-eight hours. So, I soak this up as much as I can.
__
i love you!!! 700k? you're insane. thank you!
love,
mila!