Sugar Daddy-ish part 5 (Patreon)

Part 5 is here!! There's more to come if y'all would like :) 

part 1 

part 2 

part 3 

part 4 

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“Yes,” Harry had whispered breathlessly against her mouth, “Yes, s’cos of you.” 

His cock felt painful in his pants; like he’d been edging for weeks -- months even -- working up to a release that he’d never achieve until he could with Y/N. The sweet little thing above him, soft to the touch, skin heated, only building on the warmth he already felt sweltering inside of him, slithering tendrils enveloping his whole body. Just from a kiss! If merely a kiss merely makes him feel like he’s on edge, then he has no idea what actually being inside of her would be like. What running the head of his cock against her slit, lips slick from her juices, lubing him up before he slid inside her. 

The thought of it made him throb, pulsating in the tight confines of his boxers. 

“Oh,” she remarks gently, “That’s nice.” 

A chuckle parts from his throat, as he strokes the tender skin of her neck, right over the thumping pulse point, trying to calm himself, “S’nice, huh?” He murmurs, his hand slowly slipping downward from her neck down to her chest, his fingers tipped now over the pounding of her heart. It’s fast. . .quick, like a mouse’s, and that’s how he knows despite her seemingly composed outer appearance she was just as worked up as he was. In a terribly cheesy, almost artistic way, he felt impeccably close to her in this moment. The steady metronome of her it beating is soothing-like, and for a second it feels like his own heart could begin in time with it. 

Y/N leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss at the corner of his eyebrow, then another at the apple of his cheek, the round tip of his nose, and one just below his bottom lip on the smooth skin at his chin. He’d let his eyes flutter shut in her ministrations, wondering absently if this was how she’d chosen to get out some of those pent up feelings inside of her. Harry wanted to kiss her all over too -- ravish her with his mouth in any way he could think to. Thinks then it might just cut a sliver into the amount of emotions that are welting up within him -- but he lets her take what she needs. Lets her push kisses all over his face, avoiding his mouth like she might be saving that for last. 

It makes him anxious almost; the need to taste her lips again but soaking in the affection that he’s finally receiving from her. After so long of thinking his feelings were one sided, he thinks he very well deserves it! To allow himself the pleasant feeling of her mouth, and how her hands cradle his jaw to hold him still. And for all of this to come out simply because he’d helped her with planning a party? Not when he slid her some elaborate pair of shoes across his office desk or when he’d sort of bombarded her with a new bedroom set -- just for being there! Just for writing stuff down, giving ideas, helping her gather her thoughts. How lovely was that? For it not to  be the elaborate things that he had to offer, but just being there for her? It’s such a comforting thought, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. 

This only makes him want to shower her in more gifts and take care of her anyway she wants him to. His devil of a crush had only been watered and tended to, planting his roots in the ground and flowering. All the love he stores for her inside himself is threatening to burst through the seams, even more so when she slips down and slides her lips against the sensitive skin of his throat.

“Y/N,” his voice is strained some, and she hums, vibrating against him, “Are you enjoying yourself, Love?” 

“Mhm,” she hums again, one hand holding the side of his neck still, suckling at the thin skin sweetly, pressing her face a little closer to him.

His hand slides against her back, another soft laugh leaving him, breath catching when the edges of her teeth nip at him, “I’d like to kiss you though. . .” he trails off and she pauses, slowly drawing from where she’d tucked herself, “May I have another kiss? Taste your sweet little mouth again?” 

Her gaze flickers from his eyes down back towards his mouth before she pushes their lips together for the second time, and in the same breath her hips roll against his cock. It stirs a moan from his chest, muffled against her mouth, and it only makes her move more fervently against him. He’s gathering that she very much likes it when he moans and he’s very much okay with that, considering he’s quite vocal when he’s feeling nice. He wonders if she’d be vocal too -- if he could get his fingers into her, would she be all whimpers and whines and unbridled mewls. Wonders if he’d lay her out and leans over her, peck kisses all over her mouth as he works his fingers deep inside of her, or if he’d do it while she was in his lap, her pushing down and riding them. 

Both sound just lovely; getting her off in any way sounded lovely, if he’s honest. 

Again he nips at her bottom lip, suckling it into his mouth as the gentle request to taste her as he’d asked. The tip of his tongue flirts with her own at first, before he slips his tongue into her mouth completely. She tastes so good. . .so sweet somehow, like molten candied fruits and something that was just. . .that was just Y/N. He wants more and more, his palm sliding to the back of her throat and holding her close.

He begins to shuffle, another hand on her lower back and shuffling so that he can switch their positions. Sitting up on his knees, he guides her down to the floor carefully, only parting when his palm presses to the back of her head to make sure her head doesn’t hit the ground too hard. The rug they’re atop of does little to cushion anything and he nearly asks if she wants him to be the one on top so that he was feeling the ground but she only kisses him ardently, not wanting to part. 

Harry knows she’s a virgin -- she’d admitted it and it had been a top contender on his most things thought about this year list,  so of course he bloody knew -- so he doesn’t move to rush her. Even when her hands stroke along his body, as their tongues massage together slow, steady, and experimental-like -- his own twitching because he wants to feel her, he waits. Like a good boy, he waits, and just kisses, and tastes, and parts merely to push his lips to her face in a way similar to how she had been with him earlier. Only Harry is much more diligent in leaving no spot uncovered and she giggles beneath him, shuffling and wiggling, pulling his mouth back to her for what might be a soft open little peck and her tongue flickering at his to lip before he moves quickly and kisses the tip of her nose. 

“Harry,” she gives a whimpery laugh, brows tilted inward, “I want to -- I want to make you feel good but I don’t know how to do anything.” 

He shakes his head, stroking her hair from her face,  “We don’t have to do anything tonight that you aren’t ready for tonight. Honestly, wouldn’t have to do anything ever if that made you happy.” 

“Which is exactly why I want to get you off,” she responds, slipping her fingers against the waistband of his pajama pants and giving a tug that pulls the soft fabric, “I’m. . .I’m not ready for you to see me yet, but I want to do good for you.” 

He has to dip his face into her throat because she just looked way too beautiful right now and her words are making his prick throb way too heavily. All she would have to do is get her fingers looped around him at this point and he’d cum immediately. But he tries to recenter himself, nodding his head, “Okay, baby,” he murmurs, “How do you want me?” 

Y/N places her hands on his shoulders, pressing gently, so that he scooted backward and he lowered to the ground. Harry drags his pajama pants and underwear down for her and her eyes go wide, watching as it bobs stiff up against his stomach. It was a bit unceremonious but she didn’t seem to mind, swallowing thickly as she moves closer to him, her legs folded criss crossed. “Can I just --” she begins, hand twitching outward, reaching for his cock and looping her fingers around his shaft. Harry’s pretty thick, he’d like to say, so her fingers don’t quite meet around him and the sight of it makes him pulse in her hand. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” Harry sighs, tilting his head backward, and his hips buck up into her hand before he can settle himself. 

She drags her palm upward, watching as the foreskin covers the head and pulling it down, eying him curiously and Harry’s looking from her hands around him and to her face. Looking gentle and sweet and undeniably sexy, the way her tank top had ridden up and how the straps lay loose and limply around her shoulders. The fabric is thin enough that he can see her pebbled nipples, his breathing bated as she still experimentally tugs at his cock and it makes his heart thump even harder in his chest. 

“Is this good?” Y/N asks him, “Tell me if it’s not so I can do better, y’don’t have to spare my feelings.” 

He nods, “You’re doing so good,” he murmurs, “Not lying, s’fuck -- fuck s’good.” 

The smile she gives -- it’s so god damn sweet -- so happy that she was doing it right and it reminds him of the first time he’d told her she was doing good. After her very first day working for him, even despite the fact that she definitely misscheduled a meeting and broke a coffee mug that shattered in the breakroom. She’d looked downtrodden, seeming worried when he called her into his office at the end of the day, walked in with her head down like he might fire her. Instead, he’d given her a smile, and shook her hand, “You did great, today,” he had told her, “Best assistant I could ask for.” 

That smile she’d given him -- so relieved and satisfied with herself -- to see it again but in such a different context is such a whirlwind. Harry thinks he may pass out, breathing hard, shutting his eyes, as he revels in the feeling of her twisting and squeezing at his prick in her hand. Each stroke feels so good, heart hammering as he struggles not to fuck up into it. 

Y/N squeezes on the side of too tight and a squawk drags from his throat, eyes popping open, and Harry sees Y/N with her brows dipped in, “Want you to watch.” She more or less demands and Harry moans, nodding breathlessly. 

“Okay baby, okay, okay,” he nods as her hand speeds up, stopping to thumb over the smooth, slick head wet with precum, dipping it at the tip. He’s coming to his end quickly, toes curling down into the rug, breath warbly when she starts to fuck him with her palm again. It when a tentative hand goes towards his balls, holding them gently, that he knows he’s going to cum and he’s going to cum soon. The edges of rope around the heat in his abdomen fray, twine unraveling quickly, “Get it wetter baby, please,” his fingers dig into the rug, “Jus’ need it a lil wetter.” 

Y/N leans forward, letting spit drool from her mouth and over the head of his cock, slicking and slipping her palm around him and Harry cums with a drawn out groan, head lulling back as he feels cum spurt from the tip. The small little noise that leaves her only makes him pulse harder in her hand, thick white strands stripping up his shirt, and drooling over her knuckles, “Bloody fuck,” he breathes out, through a laugh, shaking his head as he finishes, and she continues, working him through it until he twitches from her and his hand shoots out, grabbing her wrist, “Christ, Love, I haven’t cum from a handie like that in. . .well -- well, ever.” 

“Good,” she grins, holding the hand covered in cum in front of her hand, pushing her tongue against the inside of her bottom lip and licking at it gently. She tastes him, looks like she’s thinking if she likes it, and then licks more off her hand. It was almost too much, his soften cock giving a halfhearted lurch, “You taste good,” she tells him, reaching backward on her coffee table for a tissue and dabbing the rest off, before she assesses his situation, and the cum that very much stains his shirt, “I’m g’na get you a new shirt and then you. . .you can stay the night, if you’d like.” 

He pretends like he’s thinking on it, dragging his underwear and pajama pants up over his cock, “Can we cuddle?” She nods, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth and smiling, “Yes, then, I’ll stay the night. S’long as I get to be little spoon.”

Y/N rolls her eyes.

                                                              .                               .                              .

Later that night, Harry has Y/N tucked into his side despite his proclamation of being little spoon (he decided he really wanted to hold her instead, and this gave him full access to rub her arm) on the new, soft mattress. They talk some but mostly it’s the both of them soaking in the moment, letting their minds drift to the bliss of sleeping with one another. Harry doesn’t think he’s ever been so comforted by the presence of another human being in bed beside him. 

Just as he’s about to fall asleep and he’s certain that she’s fallen asleep in his arms, he hums, “I love you,” to her, because he could now and it felt so good to say it unabashedly. 

The arm that had been slung across his chest, holds him a little tighter, and she nestles closer towards him. 

“I love you too.” She responded, though he’d imagined she couldn’t have been that much awake at all. 

Harry falls asleep with a smile on his face.