Hey guys! There is some graphic smut at the end of this chapter, so if you're not into this, just skip to the note. With that being said, leave a vote/comment if you enjoyed the read!
__________
Two years earlier
It had been exactly eleven days and fifteen hours since Des gave me his phone number, and I still didn't remove that damn note from the pocket of my jacket. Somehow, I just couldn't find the strength do it; it's like some invisible force was preventing me from throwing away my, possibly, only chance to finally be free.
Each day during my short walk to school I would clutch that tiny piece of paper in my fingers, as if that would help me make a decision on whether or not I should call the mysterious man. His words would replay in my head over and over again like a broken record, tempting me with a choice so forbidden that I shouldn't be even considering it.
I'm on your side, he had said.
But was he, truly? That man was a complete stranger to me, no matter how much I tried to convince myself otherwise. He may have had Julia's complete trust, but it was hardly reassuring considering the fact that she was so easily fooled by Robb, the monster who abused me right under her nose. Who's to say that her judgment wasn't just as wrong when it came to her friend Des?
The bottom line was, would I be brave enough to plunge into deep waters—take a risk and find out whether this man was trustworthy all by myself—or would I choose the safer option of remaining where I was, in my own personal hell, but at least a place that was somehow familiar and predictable?
The answer should have been obvious, yet I still couldn't muster up the strength to make such a drastic move. Not only would I risk falling into another man's trap, but also worsening my already bad situation at home. If Robb had caught me during my little escape..... Well, let's just say even I couldn't predict what he would have done.
All these thoughts were clouding up my mind the entire week, to the point where I found it nearly impossible to focus on anything else. By the time Thursday rolled in, I had basically made up my mind, or rather, convinced myself that trying to escape wasn't worth the risk. If there was one thing that Robb had been right about, it was that you could hardly call me a self-sufficient person. Running away would have probably subjected me to the life on the streets, and the thought terrified me more than I would have liked to admit.
Loneliness—my worst fear, and greatest motivator. At the very least, Robb and Julia had provided me with an illusion of a family; I was no longer the lonely orphaned girl.
That day, even though my dilemma seemed to have been solved, I still entered our small house with a heavy heart and a guilty conscience. As soon as I passed the threshold, I was startled from my thoughts by the muffled laughter coming from somewhere further down the hallway.
"I'm home," I announced warily, not expecting anyone there at this hour.
"Hope!" Heidi's voice echoed around me, the sound of her cheerful giggles making me freeze in my step. What is she doing here? "Join us."
I nearly tripped over my own discarded shoes in a haste to get to the living room, trying to control my growing hysteria. She can't be here. Not with him.
"Heidi? I-I wasn't expecting you," my eyes flickered over her face, frantically searching for any sign of distress or fear. The thought that I was being way too transparent with my emotions was long forgotten, replaced by the overwhelming fear for Heidi's safety. Despite the fact that Robb had never focused his attention on any other girl than me—at least as far as I knew of—there was still this threatening edge to his behaviour that I could never quite seem to crack. And I wasn't sure if I wanted to find out just how far he was willing to go; with me or anyone else.
"I was supposed to drop off my notes for you?" Heidi tilted her head to the side questioningly. "You know, for the classes you missed last week 'cause of your cold?"
"Oh- right, of course," I uttered, "thank you."
I could feel Robb's gaze burning into the side of my face, urging me to look at him, but I kept my eyes focused on Heidi. The last thing I wanted was for him to catch a whiff of my panic; to realize just how much I didn't want him anywhere near my best friend.
"Are you alright?" I could hear the concern in my best friend's voice, but I just leaned my elbows on the back of her chair and shook my head. "You look pale, Hope," she pressed, not quite satisfied with my answer. "Maybe you should rest some more."
"No," I retorted swiftly, sounding much harsher than I intended, "I'm good."
Hurt swept across her features before she recomposed herself, muttering, "If you say so."
She kept staring at me inquisitively, the kindness present in her eyes making me revisit the feeling of guilt that had been a frequent resident of my heart lately. While there was a long list of things that I hated myself for, lying to my best friend easily made the top three.
"Hope should be grateful to have someone like you in her life," a smile stretched across Robb's face, but his eyes remained ice-cold, betraying the true nature of a person behind them.
"I am," I rushed, "I'm just still feeling a bit under the weather."
In that particular case, I wouldn't call myself a liar. Does it make you one, when you're only hiding things that could possibly bring harm to your loved ones?
"Ah, always so stubborn," Robb clucked his tongue obnoxiously. He sat on the couch, watching the two of us quietly, only speaking to admonish me when possible. "Keep tellin' that one to take care of herself, dress warmer. It's like talkin' to a brick wall."
I forced my clenched fists to stay still as I grit out, "You're right. I'm sorry, dad." Hearing the word out-loud caused my stomach to churn uncomfortably, but I had to play the part of a submissive little mouse. Robb had made it clear that he got some sick satisfaction from hearing me address him this way, and I wasn't about to fuel his anger with Heidi around. I couldn't allow him to blow up again; not like he had done last week. I can't miss anymore classes because of him.
"Okay, I should be going now," Heidi rose from her seat abruptly, the look on her face betraying just how uncomfortable she felt stuck right in the middle of this awkward exchange. "Thank you for letting me wait around for Hope, Mr Frazier."
"You're always welcome here," Robb moved as well, then, with a quick glance my way, added, "any friend of Hope is." Before I know it, he had shifted his body to press against my backside, throwing an arm around me in a seemingly casual manner.
"Thanks again, Heidi," I mumbled as Robb gripped me even tighter, clearly wanting me to act as natural as possible despite a growing sick feeling in my stomach. "I'll see you tomorrow at school."
"Yeah," and although it felt like Heidi's eyes was boring into my soul, I remained still in Robb's suffocating embrace. "See you."
Snatching her blue backpack from the floor, she hurriedly made her way towards the main entrance, not bothering to hide her clear uneasiness. That would be Heidi for you—blunt, plain-spoken, and a straight-up open book. I wondered what she would have said about Robb's less than a subtle way of checking her out, if only her back hadn't been facing him, thus preventing her from seeing his lustful stare. She'd have been braver than me, that's for sure.
"Are we still on for this weekend?" Heidi turned to take me in one last time—shoulders slumped and a very prominent frown on my face—then furrowed her brows in sympathy. "Studying for the Chem test, I mean?"
I subtly freed myself from Robb's grasp, approaching her to decline the invitation as politely as I could, "Sorry, got plans. Tuesday, maybe?"
Heidi was quiet as she scrutinized my expression, "What plans?" she asked after a short pause.
To my utter dismay, Robb was still listening in to our conversation. "We have a small camping trip planned with some of my friends," No. Please don't speak. "I'm takin' Hope with me. Actually...."
Blood was rushing to my head at a lightning speed as I quietly prayed that Robb wasn't going to finish that sentence with what I was thinking.
"You could come with us," he finally suggested. "That would be ideal actually; give you two some time to study as well."
The exact time Heidi's lips parted to respond, I blurted out, "No," quickly adding, "I'm sure Heidi has better things to do than hang out with you during your hunting escapades."
Robb's eyes narrowed dangerously, and my heart sunk to my stomach, knowing that this line would definitely get me in deep trouble later. "Oh come on, cut the old man some slack, would you? How about you let the girl decide?"
"She doesn't—"
"I'd love to go," Heidi interjected with a polite smile. "Thank you for the invitation. Text me the details later, alright?"
With these parting words, she strutted down our driveway with a self-satisfied smirk on her face. I was grateful to be leaning against the door, because surely I would have collapsed if it hadn't been for that additional support. Especially when Robb leaned closer to my ear, his filthy breath hitting my nostrils and making me feel nauseous.
"Where have you been hiding that sweet little thing from me? Steve and the guys will love the new addition to our party. The more the merrier," I whirled around, hoping I could somehow convince him to leave Heidi out of it—even resort to begging, if necessary—but he was already gone, trudging up the stairs as if his words hadn't just shattered my entire world to small pieces.
I didn't need any more incentive than that to launch into a sprint after Heidi, fully intending to do anything in my power just to dissuade her from going on this trip. I knew I would have to use any means necessary to make her drop this subject without asking too many questions, even if it meant throwing some hurtful words or lies around.
When I stopped next to her, chest heaving and palms propped on my knees as I fought to recover from my short run, she simply stared at me knowingly. "Is there something you'd like to tell me?" she prompted gently, in a voice that one would use to coax the truth out of a particularly stubborn person.
"You can't come," I gasped, still trying to catch my breath. "Please."
"Only if you tell me why you don't want me there so badly."
"Di," using the nickname was supposed to make her cave in. "It's really not for you. Trust me."
She scoffed lightly. "Explain and I'll drop it."
"Stop blackmailing me!"
"You've put me in a position where I have no other choice," she explained in a gentler voice. "I know you have trust issues; it's understandable considering your background....But I have been your best friend for more than two years now, Hope. Two years! When will you finally open up to me?"
I grimaced and covered my face with my trembling hands, knowing very well that she had a fair point. "I'm not hiding anything," my voice was muffled. Some things are just too shameful to admit.
I could sense Heidi rolling her eyes without even looking at her. "You are the worst fucking liar I've ever met."
"Or maybe you don't know me that well at all!" I waved my hands wildly in the air, losing any remnants of my composure. "Maybe I just don't want you here."
"Bullshit," she answered indifferently, shrugging her shoulders. "Liar, liar, liar—"
"Even if I am lying to you then it's my damn right to do so, Heidi!" without realising it, a few stray tears trickled down my cheeks. My erratic behaviour must have been a surprise even for my best friend; after all, she knew me as the shy, feeble girl who never raised her voice.
Speechless, she backed away slowly, as if afraid of what might happen if we kept this argument going. "And it is my right to try to help my best friend, especially when she's too scared to save herself."
"No, Di...."
"I am going to get to the bottom of this," she repeated, "and don't you worry—my cousins will be close in case we need help. This isn't going to continue. Whatever this is."
I tried to shout her name in a last ditch attempt to stop her, but she rushed down the street, making it clear that this conversation was over. The tears were threatening to spill over as I rested my forehead on the nearby fence, thinking of all the terrible scenarios that could occur if Heidi were to join me on that trip. The worst part was knowing that she had only good intentions at heart, yet here I was, purposefully lying stright to her face.
With great effort, I tore my eyes away from the fence and began a slow trek back to our house. From what I understood, Robb had invited the usual bunch—the local sheriff and his son, an owner of the petrol station outside of town, and two other guys I didn't bother to remember by name. All of them aware of my situation, and very much unbothered by it. Even more so, they found great pleasure in making lewd remarks whenever Robb dragged me away to his tent.
I could deal with their ignorance—even accept the constant humiliation—but I'd never be able to live with myself if I allowed them to take it a step further; especially with Heidi around. Judging by Robb's earlier words, something of this sort happening was not beyond the realm of possibility.
Subconsciously, I clutched the tiny note in the pocket of my jacket. There's only one way to deal with this now; I need to disappear from Heidi's life for good.
__________
Present day
I'm not sure how I'd thought Harry would react to the news about his father, but I expected more than the blank, distant stare he was giving me. While I attributed his initial reaction to the shock or the sheer incredibility of the entire situation, I began to grow slightly worried when he still didn't move, even after I had finished recounting the events of my first meeting with Des and my subsequent, unsuccessful escape.
When he finally looked up at me, our eyes locked and I held a breath, expecting some sort of an outburst; perhaps even anger. I was surprised that his reaction was neither—he hesitated for a moment, before letting his mouth hitch up in a barely noticeable smile. "S'rich," he mumbled under his breath, his face falling back into his neutral expression, and that's when my stomach plummeted at the realisation that he was as far from happy as one could get.
He was upset—hurt even—to learn that that his father was alive.
I tore my eyes from him to look at the pouring rain outside, my hand rubbing the spot just above my temple. "Is there anything you'd like to ask me? I'll tell you any—"
"Nah, m'good," he replied slowly, evenly, then shook his head as if wanting to physically shake some thought out of his head.
I took a deep inhale before continuing, "I wish I had his number still, but Robb crashed my phone."
"It doesn't matter," he said, raising from his seat abruptly. "Daddy Dearest used a burner, m'sure."
I couldn't help but notice that he sounded hurt, like he had been somehow betrayed, and I sighed. I wanted to ask more questions. I wanted to know more about the circumstances of his father's disappearance from his life, about Harry's nearly decade-long search for him, or the man's position in the ICE's hierarchy. More than anything, I wanted to know if he had any connection to my own dad, if our meeting two years ago was more than just a lucky coincidence.
I didn't want to get my hopes up and assume that my own father was keeping 'tabs' on me all these years, even if it felt like a natural conclusion. It would expose my heart to a new possible wave of emotions that I wasn't ready to face.
And Julia....how does she fit in all this? Des was her friend; she knew him so well. They used to work together. What the hell is going on here?
The entire thing felt like a massive puzzle that we were trying to put together, with the pieces gradually falling into place, still missing one central and vital part connecting it all together.
I was about to share that thought with Harry when I realised he was aggressively pulling his arm through the sleeve of his black coat, pushing the front door open with his other hand.
"Harry!" I scrambled to my feet, stumbling slightly when the entire room spun around me, reminding me of the copious amounts of alcohol I had consumed that night. "Where are you going? Please don't leave!"
"Need some air," he threw over his shoulder carelessly. "I'll be right back. Sleep it off."
He sent a fleeting look my way, as if checking if I were good to be left alone, and I noted the glassiness in his eyes. The sight of him leaving made me shake my head wildly—bad things went down whenever we separated. I didn't want to be apart from him, especially in my intoxicated, overly-emotional state. Our expressions were a matching set of sad frowns, which only soldified my decision to follow after him.
Blindly kicking my heels to the side, I threw on a pair of my old battered sneakers on and ran out after him, the door falling shut after me. Harry noticed me right away, demanding with his eyes alone that I leave. The longer he stared at me, the less composed I became.
"I really can't be around you right now," his voice sounded strained, like a bomb that was seconds away from blowing up. "M'about to lose my shit, and I don't want you near me again when it happens."
"I don't care if you get angry. Please, just- don't leave me alone," my voice cracked slightly at the end, but I was both too intoxicated and emotional to care about feeling embarassed. "You always take care of me, let me look after you for once."
I knew my words hit the jackpot when his eyes snapped up to mine, "I don't need anyone to take care of me."
"Everyone needs it sometimes."
At that, he rolled his eyes and let the hint of a smile creep through. "You can be such a persistent pest sometimes."
"I learned from the best," I shot back, sending him a pointed look. "Mr Harry Stubborn Styles."
A low laugh escaped him, and I felt lighter knowing that at least some of the weight on his heart had been lifted. The livid man was gone, now replaced by this defeated, tired image of himself. The way his mood kept switching from one to another was giving me a headache, but I realised that it was also one of the things that kept me so hopelessly captivated by him. He was a man I couldn't quite figure out, no matter how hard I tried.
Finally, with a dejected sigh, he closed the distance between us and took a seat at the edge of the sidewalk at my feet. It was clear that he didn't care about the pouring rain, whereas I was now drenched from my head to toes, my entire body shivering since I was still wearing nothing but the skimpy black dress I had foolishly chosen to wear that night. When I finally sat down next to Harry, he shrugged off his coat and placed it on my shivering frame. I gave him a small nod of gratitude, and didn't say anything when his arm remained draped around my shoulders.
"Edward," he murmured after a moment.
"Huh?"
"My middle name," he clarified. "S'not 'stubborn'. Just so you know. Although I think my mother would have agreed with your choice wholeheartedly."
"Oh," I smiled, watching the raindrop slip from his cheek down to his upper lip. "It suits you."
He hummed. "You think?"
I nodded, adding, "I don't have a middle name."
"Yes you do."
"How do you know?"
"Niall and I learned it early on while we were looking for you," he twisted slightly to face me. "Anita Heather Rowley. It seemed your father had a say in the middle name, at least. Gave you an English one."
"Heather," I tested the word on my tongue. "Feels kinda weird, right? I'm just Hope."
"Yeah, the new one feels like s'made just for you," at my quizzical expresion, he shrugged. "The name. You are Hope, through and through."
I'm not sure why, but his simple words had a profound effect on me, especially my heart which was beating a mile a minute. All that, coupled with his electrifying presence and the heat pouring out of his body like a furnace, was admittedly making me feel slightly dizzy. And I was fully aware that it was not the alcohol causing those sensations anymore.
My stomach was flipping dangerously under his heavy gaze, and I blinked a few times in an attempt to clear away the fog. Harry could be so distracting sometimes. I wasn't even sure what was worse at this point: his ridiculously handsome face; the obvious longing in his eyes; or the finger tracing slow circles into the side of my neck. I wanted to respond, but my throat was dry. I couldn't think straight when he was behaving this way.
"I-um," I stammered, clearing my throat before saying, "are we ever going to address the elephant in the room?"
He stared at me with an emotion I couldn't quite decipher, raising his eyebrows in question. Almost like he was daring me to say more.
"Your....father," I murmured, flinching when his arm tensed around me. As soon as it happened, his muscles relaxed again, his face dropping onto my shoulder with an exasperated sigh.
"What's there to say, Hope? I think subconsciously I've always hoped that he was dead," the grief in Harry's voice was palpable, "because the alternative would mean that he'd willingly allowed me to suffer all these years; that he put something—or someone—else above the well-being of his children."
"What if that's exactly why he's never contacted you?" I suggested gently. "Maybe he just wanted to keep you away from this nightmare; just like my dad chose not to involve me."
"He could have given me at least one fuckin' sign," Harry lifted a finger in the air to emphasise his point. "Anything to let me know that he's okay, at the very least."
"Would you have left it alone then?" my intention was not to sound judgemental, but merely prove my point. "We both know how you get when you want something, Harry. And he did leave you that note, which clearly means he didn't intend to keep you in the dark forever. He wanted you to find me, eventually."
"Then he should have been clearer in his message. It's like he left it vague on purpose, just to mess with my fuckin' brain."
"Or maybe he knew you weren't ready back then, and you would find me when the time was right. You were eighteen years old, Harry. What would you have done with my nine year-old self back then? Would you have even believed this whole conspiracy theory?" From the look on his face, I could see that I'd struck a nerve. "I'm sure your dad had his reasons. We just need to find out what they were."
"What if I don't care about his reasons anymore?" Harry retorted, his voice having lost its edge and gone back to his usual, impassive tone.
"You're hurt, I know that," I began, "but you're the one who'd told me—just yesterday—that we've gone through too much just to give up now." And this time, I'm going to listen to you.
"Nothing's changed in that department," suddenly I was being pulled into his chest, closing my eyes as Harry leant his forehead against mine. "Only now my priorities have changed. Want to know why?"
I nodded, the motion causing the long, wet strands of his hair to tickle my cheeks. He chuckled quietly at my grimace, using both arms to pull me onto his lap.
"Because I realize now that my loyalties were misplaced; I put my trust in people who didn't deserve it. I worked for a corrupt organisation, teamed up with people who only cared about me as long as we shared a common goal. I did everything in my power to fix my mistakes by proving Zayn's innocence, and he repaid me by leaving someone I care about for the dead. And my father...." he let out a long, shuddering sigh. "I'm fed up, Hope. Quite frankly, you're the only person left in the entire world who appreciates my efforts. Appreciates me."
"Niall would disagree," I retorted with the first thing that came to my mind.
"Fine, you and the idiot, but even he's done with this shit by now. Ever since Heidi—" he cut off with a sigh.
I smiled sadly. "It's alright, you can talk about her."
"He's been really off his game," Harry finished, "and I get it. I sympathise. There's nothing that can mess up a man's brain more than a beautiful girl. Especially if you enjoy that girl's company a whole fuckin' lot."
He gave me a look that clearly showed he wasn't talking solely about Heidi and Niall anymore. The kind of look that made my insides feel hot and excited, yet wary of what was was about to happen next.
"Let's get back inside before you get sick," Harry said eventually, pulling me up gently and we both stumbled back to our hotel room on unsteady feet. You'd think we were both intoxicated with how much we swayed and bumped into each other on our way back, but our highs were more emotional than physical at that point. Harry, especially, looked completely burned out after our conversation.
The room was still partially dark, illuminated only by the dim light of the lamp in the corner, exactly how we had left it after our impromptu party. Well, more like my own party, which Harry had reluctantly joined only after I had pestered him long enough.
After grabbing a loose t-shirt and some clean underwear, I wiped off my make up and cleaned myself up a little in the bathroom, before leaving the space to Harry. I laid in bed for a couple of minutes, feeling tired but too restless to sleep. When he finally crawled under the covers next to me, I was still helplessly tossing around.
"Can't sleep?" he shifted a little, searching for a comfortable position.
"No, are you tired?"
A deep sigh was his only answer. For a while, we laid there quietly, until I sensed him watching me discreetly. I rolled to my side, propping my head up on my elbow. "How are you feeling?"
"Fine," he muttered, but I knew it wasn't an honest answer so I waited patiently until he gave me one. "If I tell you he truth, you need to know m'not saying this 'cause I expect somethin' from you."
My heart began to beat a little faster and I hesitated before asking, "What is it?"
His tongue peeked out to wet his lips, and for a moment I felt like he wasn't going to say anything, until his next words literally took my breath away. "M'like....really hard right now."
"Oh," I bit my lip, not quite meeting his stare. "It happens....randomly?"
He kept looking at me with bloodshot eyes, not even slightly embarassed by his admission. "That little black number you were wearing, I just can't get it out of my mind. And I've been so fuckin' frustrated for months now, plus the booze makin' me horny. Can't help it."
I nearly lost all of my composure when his palm slid up the inside of his leg, finally squeezing the noticeable bulge in his briefs. My eyes followed his hand unbashedly, and I don't know if it was still the booze talking, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from the sight. Maybe it's the fact that we were both still a bit out of it that made this entire thing—him touching himself, and me watching—somehow acceptable.
"Sorry," he let his hand fall to the side, seeming a little embarassed at the dumbfounded look on my face. "That was, uh, y'know, out of line."
Before I could dwell on my embarassment any further, I reached out and placed my hand where his had been just a moment ago. His breath hitched in his throat as I slowly began to stroke him through his underwear, fingers tracing the outline of his erection. My heart was pounding in my throat because this was the very first time I'd ever done something like this, willingly, to anyone. I couldn't even hold his gaze, but just feeling his intense stare burning into the side of my face was causing a familiar tingling to erupt in the depths of my stomach.
"Are you still....drunk? he asked suddenly, placing his palm on top of mine to halt my movements. "If you wanted....You could tell me to stop, right?"
Technically speaking, I'm the one feeling you up.
"I'm good. Don't worry."
He nodded curtly, not wasting any time before grabbing my face with both of his hands and pulling me in. His lips crashed against mine much harder than I was used to, and I let out a muffled gasp, trying to match his intensity. The kiss was sloppy and uncoordinated, showing just how desperate he was feeling at the moment. Pausing for a moment, and feeling much braver knowing the kind of effect I had on him, I sat back on my heels only to pull him out of his briefs.
It was hard not to flush under his heated gaze, especially when he was so obviously undressing me with his eyes. He was hard as stone in my grasp, and much bigger and smoother than what I was used to; not that I had much experience in that matter. I continued getting him off, this time lowering slightly to place a tentative kiss on his chest. He seemed to have liked that, judging by the way he lifted his hips off the bed to grind into my hand.
"Let me kiss you," he mumbled so lowly I barely caught it past the sounds of our heavy breathing.
Soon, his tongue was twirling with mine again, and I sighed into the kiss because this entire thing was causing a dull throbbing sensation between my legs. Each time time I squeezed my hand harder around him he responded by either biting my lips or groaning into my mouth. I didn't know it could feel so good to have someone at my mercy like that. At the same time, it was so hard to wrap my head around the fact that he had managed to get me so worked up, again. I was truly enjoying it, without an ounce of fear clouding my mind.
His fingers tangled in my hair, pulling me back gently and giving me a clear view of his glassy eyes and shiny lips. "I want you on top of me, please," it sounded more like a command than a plea, but I obeyed him anyway, swinging a leg over his waist to straddle him. He bit his lip hotly, propping his back up on the pillows and staring up at me. I barely resisted bluntly asking him what he wanted from me; that's how intimidating his staring felt to me.
His hands were cupping my hips and backside, pulling me forward as if urging me to move on him. It was dizzying to know think that without the layers of clothing separating us, I'd be basically riding him. With his thigh pressing between my legs, I'm sure he could feel just how aroused the thought was making me. I let out a low moan, falling down onto his chest as I started to grind against him shamelessly. His breathing was just as laboured as mine, causing me to move both my hand and hips faster, up until his hand shot out abruptly to grab my wrist.
"Slow down," his voice sounded winded. "Gonna cum if you don't stop."
Isn't that the point?
"Not yet. I want you to fuck my fingers," he looked deadly serious, so I gently pulled back, giving his free arm room to move. His lips latched to my neck as I slid my hands up and down his chest slowly, enjoying the way he felt under my fingers. I'm certain he could feel my legs trembling when his hand finally slid down to where I wanted him the most.
He released my wrist, and I tentatively began to pump him again in my hand, going slower this time like he had requested. His expression looked almost pained when finally pushed his middle and ring finger up into me. "You feel so fuckin' good. Come on."
My heart throbbed in my throat at his heated praises, my entire body rocking above him as his thumb rubbed circles into my clit. I could see the muscles in his bicep strain to keep the pace of my movements steady, and I realised then with embarassing clarity that he was going to finish me off in a record time. When he added the third finger, curling it up to press into that sweet spot inside me, my head fell back and I closed my eyes for a moment, no longer able to contain my pleasure.
"Say my name," his voice was low and husky as he leaned in to meet me in another short kiss.
"Harry," I whispered shyly against his mouth.
He lifted himself up, pressing his chest up against mine without breaking the rhythm of his movements. "Louder."
"Harry, I'm close," I whimpered, letting go of his throbbing length for a moment to wrap my arms around his back as I felt the strong wave of my orgasm hit me.
"It feels so fuckin' good, doesn't it?" Harry groaned, staring down at me intently, still pumping his fingers into me ruthlessly.
I nodded simply, since it was impossible to focus enough to give him a coherent answer. Harry's pupils were blown wide, his jaw tight as he scanned my face intently. I realised what this look was—satisfaction. Maybe even a healthy dose of smugness.
Finally able to move my muscles again, I gave him a small smile before reaching down where he was still pressed hard against my stomach. As soon as I touched him, his hips jerked forward and he let out a low moan. "M'not gonna last much longer." He didn't have to tell me that, because I knew the telltale signs of an orgasm; the way his thrusts were growing more impatient and convulsive with each passing moment, for one. I looked up at him slowly, feeling nervous about the way he was kneeling above me, his hips nearly at my face level. Despite everything that we had just done, I wasn't feeling comfortable enough for that part.
"Fuck, I'm about to—" he mumbled, his face twisting in an expression that I would have mistaken for pain if I hadn't known better. "Can I, uh, maybe, finish on you?"
I thanked the heavens for the dim light in the room, shielding my fiery red cheeks from his gaze. Instead of asking him 'where' exactly did he mean by that, I laid back on the bed, lifting my t-shirt slightly to expose my stomach. Thankfully he seemed to like that, crawling over to me until his knees were positioned on either side of my waist. His eyes were trained on my face as he stroked himself—hard and fast—until his mouth fell open and a long, loud moan left his lips. One of his hands fell to brace on the bed as stream after stream of his cum landed on my stomach, and I had to fight the urge to gape at him in complete astonishment.
When he was finally done, he shifted to the side and plopped down on his back next to me, our arms pressed against each other. A heavy silence settled around us, the only sound being the wild thrumming of my heart in my head.
"That was....." Harry cleared his throat, unsure of what to say.
"A lot," I supplied, looking down at my stomach. Literally.
"I meant to say fun, but yeah...." he propped up on his elbow, following my gaze with his eyes. "Shit, I made a mess. Sorry."
I swear I saw the tips of his ears turn red as he rolled over to produce a couple of napkins from the bedside table. "It's okay. I've just never, I mean....I didn't know you could.... you know, finish, so much." I stammered, instantly feeling insecure about my inexperience.
"S'been some time for me," his voice was quiet and unsure as he tried to wipe off the white, sticky mess off my skin. "And you wind me up. Like, a lot."
A slow smile tugged at the corners of my mouth; I couldn't help but find this shy side of Harry extremely endearing. "I'll finish this up," I told him gently, taking the napkins from his hand. "You go wash up."
He nodded, then hesitated before leaning down to press his mouth to mine again. The kiss was short and innocent enough, but once he pulled back, his brows were furrowed in confusion—almost like he was surprised to have done that. Like somehow this was more intimate than everything we'd just done.
"Right," he cleared his throat, tapping his thumb against my lip teasingly. "Think you'll be able to sleep now?"
"Yeah," I nodded numbly, trying not to stare at his bare bottom as he sauntered over to the bathroom, not even bothering to close the door behind himself.
___________
Oop, I'm going to need holy water after writing this... If anyone doesn't like smut, I hope you took my advice and skipped it. To everyone else—you're welcome and I hope it was good.
By the way, before I get comments that you want to know what happened during the escape—yes, the flashback will be continued in the next chapter.
What do you guys think about Des, Julia and this entire thing, as well as the growing relationship between Harry and Hope? Leave your thoughts here.
Thank you so much for reading. 10K reads! Can you believe it? I remember when we passed 1K. I can't find the right words to tell you how much I appreciate it.
xx Cathy