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Darkness helps us all to shine
Dark necessities are part of my design
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HARRY
"You know the rules for tonight?" Luna asked.
Fuck it if I cared about some rules. She had blackmailed me into leaving London and moving out to California to be her little speedster.
"I don't give a fuck." I tell her, reaching for a beer. "I'm here, unfortunately. I'll do what you want."
"If you drink that I swear to god-" she stops herself, inhaling sharply before standing and ripping the bear out of my hands. "I'm going to repeat the rules for you so you understand what's at risk if you break them."
I roll my eyes at her, letting her take the beer from me. She drags me back to the seat where the other guy with the tan skin and curly hair is standing, waiting for me to sit and tattoo me.
"If you race for the gang, you're part of the gang. You need the ink to legitimize it." She tells me when I groan at the thought of getting yet another tattoo. "Apollo's good at his job. Just shut up and let him do it." She snaps.
Apollo, the tattoo artist was silent when Luna spoke. His eyes stayed focused on my hand, the light vibration of the tattoo gun the soundtrack to our conversation. "This might hurt a bit man. Sensitive skin I'm tatting here." He warns.
"If it hurts enough you'll hear a moan." I reply, and he laughs a bit muttering something about not kink shaming anyone. I was a sucker for pain... it meant I felt something and anything was better than nothing. I never let people inflict in on me though... that would require giving up control and I was too much of a control freak for that. Plus, I'd be betraying every dominant bone in my body asking a partner to hurt me... and most people wouldn't be willing to.
"Harry. Pay attention." Luna snapped at me. "Rules are easy. Don't crash into anyone unless provoked, don't get caught, and fucking win."
"Where's the rule that required me to have the entire setup of my car rearranged?" I say, clearly annoyed. Luna made sure to make sure my car was up to American standards so instead of driving on the right side of the car my wheel was on the left. I was ambidextrous and a fantastic fucking driver so I didn't mind, but I hadn't seen Arlo yet and if that fucking job destroyed my prized possession let's just say I was armed for a reason.
Yes, my car's name is Arlo, and yes, I have the name tattooed on my arm.
Champions deserve recognition.
"That's not a rule. It's the law, prick." She scoffs, and Apollo laughs as I let out a low pleasurable groan at the stinging sensation of the tattoo gun piercing my knuckle.
"Whore." Luna winks at me, and I bite my lip, leaning back a little more and spreading my legs to get comfortable. Apollo keeps his focus on the tattoo, one final prick to my knuckle before standing up.
Luna watches me for a moment, eyes running over my body and lingering over my crotch. These jeans were a little tight and the fact that the tattoo gun was bumping into my bone hurt so badly I couldn't help but get hard. Luna's sharp jaw clenched when she noticed and I couldn't hold back an arrogant smirk. Apollo kept his eyes to himself, which was in his best interest.
"I'm done." He announces, standing up and packing his shit. Luna gives him a few bucks and tells him that she'd see him tonight. She had told me he was one of her better racers.
"Alright Styles. Time to get down to the real reason you're here." She says coldly, grabbing a chair and sitting directly in front of me. That little lustful gaze was long gone.
"Oh thank god, I've been waiting to find out why you threatened me to move out here." I roll my eyes at her. "Couldn't find someone else?"
"I needed you because you're the best. If you don't beat Bentley Hale tonight in this race, I won't be so nice about Emma Leigh. Bentley is costing me too much money and the Lions are getting aggressive. There's a fucking storm brewing within the city... it won't be pretty if we don't get everything under control."
There Luna goes again, using her default with me. A threat. The thing about Luna was that she didn't make empty threats. She wasn't scary, but what she was capable of was. Luna never got her hands dirty, she always had a little minion working for her, and suddenly I had become one of them. I wouldn't take her threats seriously if they were directed at me, I mean, Luna and I go way back... but her threats were pointing in the direction of the only thing I held sacred.
"Relax. Leave Emmy out of this. You've already threatened her enough." I snap. "Plus, I don't fucking lose, and I don't plan on starting tonight. This Bentley dude can crash and burn for all I care."
She laughs, as if she knew something I didn't. "What?" I ask.
"You're in for a treat tonight." She scoffs. "One last thing, you have to drive sober, if you're under the influence when you're behind the wheel it's grounds for elimination from the race. I swear if you have a single drop of alcohol in you it's over for you and Em-"
"I get it." I bark. "Where's my car?"
"You'll see it at the starting line. Get some sleep Styles. Race starts in a few hours." She tells me, taking the two beers left from the room and walking out.
I was staying in her apartment, a bedroom across the hall from hers until I could get settled in properly with my own place. Oakland was home now, unfortunately, seeing as the Kings needed a new driver and a new hitman.
I met Luna a few years ago, out in London. She was helping her father out with something because the gang had expanded their trade units overseas. I was working as an assassin for hire and they needed me for a night, but it wasn't to kill anyone- it was to drive. Street racing was another thing I had picked up in London in order to save up for drugs and liquor... nights out in London when I was younger with my mates from the home. I was good at it and it paid really well, so when Luna needed someone who could do both for her, she knew to call me.
I said no when she first asked, but when she threatened to make Emmy aware of what it is her big brother did for work... I had to say yes. That's another thing about Luna, she's a fucking selfish bitch. I knew this because we fucked way back in London and she finished herself off and when she came she left me. Hard and suddenly blue-balled.
Racing was my cover up. That's what everyone here in Oakland would know me for within the Kings. The fact that I was the new hitman needed to remain a secret because it'd get me killed... well, if they could get to me in the first place. It's not like I really cared if I died anyway, the only reason I'd made it to twenty six in the first place was because someone needed to keep an eye on Emmy, and although she was already 19 and in uni, she'd always need me. I'm the only family she has left.
Emmy didn't live with me growing up. We were placed in separate homes as kids because she got adopted by some nice family and I didn't. I wasn't abused or anything as a kid... maybe I was malnourished and a bit neglected, but my trauma didn't come from where I grew up.
It came from who I grew up with.
Luckily Emmy's family allowed me to stay in her life, and I watched over her and when I found out they couldn't pay to send her to Regent's University two years ago, I offered. That's when the whole hitman gig got more serious, and I started accepting more jobs. All that money that I was spending on my vices was going to pay for her schooling... housing... anything she wanted. I made sure Emmy had the world in her hands so she wouldn't be forced to end up in mine.
I was a killer. I didn't feel bad about it either. How realistic would it be more me to care about other people's lives if I couldn't find it in me to care about myself? It was fun for me... I was addicted to the thrill of a kill. Everything about the experience of taking a life was empowering to me. Whenever I felt their pulse give out, mine got stronger... When their eyes dulled with death, mine rushed with a fire for life.
Killing is what kept me alive.
I wasn't ashamed.
I was just afraid of finding out what Emmy'd think about me paying for her ridiculously expensive lifestyle with blood money. Well, that and the money I get from races. Both illegal, but one was just a guarantee to get to hell.
Racing came before the assassin gig. I was 14 when I attended my first race, 17 when I drove during the first race, and I'd been hooked ever since. It was Louis that had gotten me into it. He, Liam and I grew up together at the foster home and did everything together. Hadn't seen those two in a few years but I was sure they'd be pretty proud to see their old pal killing people like they'd tricked me into doing.
I bet the last thing they thought is that I'd still be at it.
That I'd be enjoying it.
I stand up, walking towards the nightstand to snoop, but I accidentally ram my newly tattooed finger into the knob, eliciting a groan out of me. The pain was delicious. I could always wank off right now but I wasn't quiet... Fucking Luna would know that if she had let me finish the last time we-
Fucking Luna... wait, maybe fucking Luna would set me straight.
I open the door, walking out into the hallway and storming into the living room. Luna's sitting down in her oversized shirt, some longer socks that covered her ankles adorning her feet. Her braids were tied up into a low bun and she was watching television.
"I thought you were sleeping." She tells me, eyes never leaving the monitor.
"I'm obviously not." I roll my eyes at her. "Want to tire me out?"
"You want to fuck me Harry?" She teased, but that gleam in her eyes told me everything I needed to know. I stayed quiet for a moment, watching her carefully... she was dangerous, she was fucking evil... but she was a fucking puppy in bed. "You're lucky I'm a little worked up after seeing Bentley today. Feisty little thing... quiet the brat. Come here Harry." She tells me, the bags under her eyes a bit darker than usual.
"You aren't in charge today." I tell her, quickly walking up to her and wrapping my hand around the back of her neck and pulling her up. "I am going to finish first... if you're lucky I'll take care of you after."
"Motherfu-" I cut her off with another tug, connecting my lips harshly to hers. My tongue parts her lips and explores the familiar mouth.
"Shut. Up." I grunt. "Take this fucking shirt off now."
She obeys, ripping the oversized shirt over her head and staring at me in her lacy thong and ankle socks. Her nipples are hardened and her thighs are clenched. I take the liberty of unbuttoning my shirt, rolling my boxers and pants off of me easily and pulling her back to me. My fingers grab at the bud of her breasts, twisting it harshly to hear her whimper my name.
"You remember last time, Luna? Remember how you used me and left?"
She stays quiet, eyes scrunched in pleasure, but I remove my hand from gripping her nipple and slap her breast.
"Fuck! Harry-"
"Do you remember?" I grit out.
"Yes- fuck!" she cries out when I lower my hand to her pussy, collecting some of her arousal with my two fingers and pushing into her, my fingers pumping as we lower down to the couch, her body writhing under mine.
"Good. Now you're going to keep that in mind while I use you like the slut you are. You're my little fucktoy tonight Luna."
"Yes." She gasps, eyes rolling as I massage that spot I remembered she liked. It might have been a few years but we fucked a few times... that last time was the one she did me fucking dirty.
Two could play at that game.
Luna was such a sub it bored me sometimes... no defiance meant no punishment.
And I fucking loved punishment.
"Yes what?" I taunt, threatening to pull away. I needed to get something out of this... fuck she was so wet my hands were covered in her arousal.
"Yes daddy." She moans, eyes rolling. I groan at her words, they were always my weakness... what can I say? Daddy issues.
Well, more like I-had-no-daddy issues.
I pull my hands away, tearing the tiny thong off of her body and hearing her wince as the lace tears across her skin. She had a lower pain tolerance, and I knew this, but I didn't give a fuck. Now she'd feel the burn whenever she tried to sit on the raw skin of her ass. I pump myself twice before asking her a question.
"You still on the pill?"
"Yes- you clean?" She retorts breathlessly.
"I wouldn't fuck you if I wasn't." I answer in a clipped tone before pushing myself into her all at once. Her walls tighten over my length and her high pitched cries fill the air of the living room. "Tell me how good I feel Luna. Come on, tell daddy how good he fucks you."
"So- so good." She stutters, not being able to continue when I bring my hand down on the curve of her ass roughly.
"Tell me you're fucking sorry. Tell me you're a slut." I order.
"I... fuck!" She moans when I bring my fingers around her neck, pushing into her even harder, one hand against the armrest of the couch to keep me up. "I'm sorry... I'm a slut... I'm a fucking slut."
"Yes you are. Now suck." I tell her, shoving two fingers into her mouth that were covered in her arousal while keeping my eyes shut so I wouldn't look at her. Eye contact during sex was too much for me... it was too intimate. She clenched around me a few times and her fingernails dug into my bicep, giving me the opportunity to zero in on the sweet sting and release.
I gave one final thrust, burying myself in her and letting myself come in her. She didn't finish, and I didn't want her to.
I said it earlier. I'm a selfish motherfucker.
I pull out, and she gives me an angry glare. I grab her shirt from the floor and place it under her ass, letting my release drip down her.
"Are you kidding?" She snaps.
"No." I shrug. "You got what you deserved."
"And what is that?" She bites.
"You got used." I tell her, pulling my underwear back over me and promptly rolling my jeans up my thighs. I grab my shirt, buttoning it back up and feeling the silky material graze over the skin of my chest. I scoff at her, still splattered across the couch shamelessly with my come dripping out of her as she stares at me with a scowl. "Maybe if you're lucky I'll blackmail you back one day... then we'll really be even."
"You're a jackass." She spits, words dripping with lazy rage.
"I'll see you at the finish line, Luna." I wink.
"You're going to fucking need it if you don't win." She growls.
"Didn't your father ever teach you that just because a Bentley is a nice car... doesn't mean its a good car." I tell her, back turned to her as I start to walk about of the apartment. I had nowhere to go but I needed to get out of there. "He's going to need the luck, not me."
She laughs at my final comment, actually laughs, but I cannot bring myself to care enough about it to ask why. I just had to leave.
I walk out of the apartment, slamming the door shut and muffling Luna's irritating giggle.
Time to find my fucking car.
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AN:
first harry pov!! yay!!
this book will have a fair amount of smut and this is the most tame it'll be honestly.
bentley and harry are both pretty dominant too so i can't wait to see where that leads us
see you soon!
*revs engine*
arabella