Roller Rink Harry part 2 (Patreon)

A lil something more about when they get home :) 

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ii.

Y/N had never thought she was a possessive person until Harry, and even then, she wouldn’t say that she’s possessive per say. Alisa is not the only person who has given little care to Y/N’s presence and in turn tried to coax Harry into (or she supposes with Alisa, back into) their panties. And it’s not even like she could blame them all, really, Harry was gorgeous. Beautiful, sweet, smart, and well spoken, with this seafoam green gaze that makes you feel like you’re the only person in the world -- hell, she surely couldn’t mind her business, how could she expect anybody else to? 

However, at least when Y/N sought after Harry, he wasn’t out with his fucking girlfriend. Some people barely spare her a glance when they slip up to his side and suggest that they take a shot together, ask what book he’s reading, wonder aloud if he would ever want to get coffee some time. Harry is always very polite in what he says, with a gentle smile, and in the most careful way he declines without hurting their feelings. It’s why Y/N doesn’t feel like she necessarily needs to feel possessive, because Harry doesn’t let all the attention get to his head and he never falters in making her feel like she’s the only person he’s got an eye on. 

Yet, there was something about an old flame doing it that had dug under Y/N’s skin. Separate the layers and implanted itself like a pest that she would want to scratch and scratch at until she could pry the stupid tick out herself. Watching her make Harry blush -- Y/N could have screamed. 

That’s why she had responded so gratefully to Harry suggesting they head home and why she so happily hugged everyone goodbye, and didn’t even feel all that bad when Alisa very clearly wanted nothing to do with her parting words. She merely slotted her fingers into Harry’s and let him lead the way out, squeezing his hand and even pulling it up to press kisses to his knuckles. A smile played at his mouth; Harry could tell what kind of mood she was in, and he made no secret of loving it. He had once told her that when she gets needy for him, it’s one of the best feelings he could ever describe. Like a high that you couldn’t get anywhere else. 

So Y/N was shameless in the way she leaned over the consol as before Harry could begin driving, smooshing her mouth against his and feeling the remnants of her lip gloss from the kisses she’d given him in the bathroom. Harry moans against her mouth rather than gives his surprised squeak because he actually saw it coming this time, and accepted it happily. Her hand snuck around to the soft brown curls at his nape, holding him close, only parting when she pecked at his bottom lip, the corner of his mouth, down to his chin and then along his jawline. The skin of his neck was porcelain, tender and untouched, and Y/N had settled on a spot to the left of his pulse before suckling and nipping greedily. Her tongue laved against the salty surface, humming when his moan sends vibrations through his throat. His hands had, which had been settled on the bare skin of her hips from where her shirt had ridden up, were now traveling up her sides and sending goosebumps in her wake. When she reached her hand down, she could feel that he’d begun stiffening in his trousers always so receptive and responsive to her touch. 

If they were not at a crowded house party and she wasn’t so sure Harry would be a bit shy about it, she would fuck him right here. She wouldn’t care either. . .she would do so happily and could only wish someone would walk by, just so they know that she was the one making him feel good. That she was the cause for the blissed out look on his face when he first slips inside of her; where his eyes, already soft, flutter closed like two butterfly wings and his lips bitten swollen, slick with spit and a raspberry red are parted, sometimes caught between his teeth with his head thrown back and his throat up for the taking by her mouth. They could see how if she’s riding him, she likes to seat herself fully on his cock and grind down until he whimpers and moans. How when he is close, he digs his nails deep into her skin and holds her tight (then undoubtedly apologizes for it later). 

She explains this to him and Harry moans aloud, shaking his head as he drags her back to his mouth for another peck, “You’re such a naughty little thing,” he murmurs, “S’like I plucked you from garden of smut.” 

“If it’s a garden full of smut, was your cum what fed me?” He laughs brightly and Y/N grins triumphantly, drawing back and plopping in her seat.

“Christ sake! I don’t know how you manage to be so cute when you’re saying something so filthy.” 

                                               .                                .                            .

Y/N found out a little while back that she liked to be chased. There was something about it that got her heart pumping, though there were no particular stakes at hand, glee zipped through her veins when she heard him behind her. It was exciting, invigorating, and it unleashed a carnal desire in Harry that shoots tingles throughout the entirety of her body. Like a game of cat and mouse; Y/N loves being caught between his claws and devoured whole. 

So when they walk into his loft, Y/N says the three words that let Harry know what they’re doing. She turns to face him, a small, furtive smile on her mouth and he looks at her with his eyes a bit untrusting, “What’re you about to do?” 

“Come get me!” 

It’s on then, she trips in her hurry away from him and Harry gives her a small head start but when he’s really hard done by then that head start may be a little under three seconds. This time, she can tell that he’s desperate and just as greedy as she was for their skin to skin contact because he barely even lets a second go by before she hears him behind her. He laughs behind her when she nearly face plants on the steps trying to dash up them, her upper half has swung forward and her palms come in contact with the beige carpeted stairs. She palms her way up two when Harry’s hands clap against her hips and she nearly jumped from her skin, not realizing that he was so close, squealing as he flipped her over and tugged her down a stair. 

He hovered over her, his knees on the step below where her bum is seated and his hands still on her hips to still her. A giggle plays at her lips as she wriggles, using her hands to peel his off her but he is so quick and easy to maneuver her, wrapping his fingers around her wrists and placing them above her head. She shimmies again, trying her best one last time to get away from him but Harry is strong. Y/N had always known that -- from the very first time he’d moved a whole gaming table so Y/N could retrieve a child’s teddy squeezed from behind it. She laughed again, and Harry smiles at her, leaning down to peck a kiss at her nose, “Awful playful for someone so worked up in the car,” He keeps one hand looped around her wrists, the other snaking up her shirt, the skin of his palm is soft but his touch his rough. He shoves the fabric of her shirt up more, over her tits, revealing the petal pink cups of her bra which he drags down to reveal her nipples had already pebbled. Harry bends forward and drags the flat of his tongue up the swell of her breast before sucking her nipple into his mouth. 

Y/N sighs happily, arching up towards his mouth and he removes his hand from her wrist to slip it beneath the curve of her back. He cradles her to him possessively, like an animal might and Y/N revels in the feeling. Harry bites down on the skin, sucking harshly, and Y/N holds onto him tightly, shivering, digging her fingers into his hair and dragging him to her mouth. He goes easily, smearing their mouths together and suckles at her bottom lip -- even bites down on it, giving a kittenish smile as he does so and gives her a minx like gaze when he lets it snap back in place. He pecks another kiss to her mouth before he withdraws, casting his eyes up to the bedroom, “Sweetheart, I don’t want to hurt your back. D’ya want me to carry you to bed?” 

And that too, god Y/N could scream! He’s so fucking adorable and considerate; how he can shift between this domineering and teasing being, to something so soft and tender. She outstretches her arms for him, koalas herself around his body and she craned her neck to push her mouth just below his right eye. Harry lifts her like she’s nothing, pulling her up the rest of the stairs, gingerly placing her on his bed. Y/N grabs onto him by his belt, dragging him closer to her until he has no choice but to start tumbling a top of her. She liked when he was on top -- liked feeling safety within the shield of his arms on either side of her, and they mimic the position they were in just moments prior, only this time Harry rolled his hips. The swell of his cock pushes against her, pressing her panties tighter to her skin and reminding her just how wet she had become. 

Harry lowers their mouths to one another’s once more, capturing her bottom lip between his as he continues to periodically rub against her. She opens her mouth to gasp when the seam of her jeans digs against her slit and Harry takes advantage of the moment, slipping his tongue into her mouth and stroking it against her own. He tastes like watermelon juice; he’d been drinking it at the party opposed to any liquor because he knew he’d be driving (they seldom go to parties but when they do, they switch off who will be the designated driver, because taking an Uber gives no room to stop by a fast food place in the case that one of them is begging for a burger). Harry always tasted sweet though, like a candied oasis that she could dip herself into. His mouth was sinful despite how gentle he is, Y/N told him often that he could probably take over a country with it, whether it be his words, the shape of his lips, or the way he tastes. 

It’s always a pleasure to kiss him. Harry, like his knack for making you feel like the only person in the room, could very easily make you feel like the best kisser. Or at least he makes her feel like she is. He takes his time, his movements are passion driven, will whimper and whine into her mouth and wait until his lungs burn to part for a breath, like this is all he could ever want to spend his time doing. He cradles her face as he does it, or holds her at the nape of her neck so that he can kiss her as long as he pleases. When either of them stop to drag air back into their body, he’s a bit pouty, puffing out his bottom lip and it only entices her to bite down on it and drag him back for more. 

Y/N could kiss him for hours -- even if he’s fucking her from behind, they’ll stretch out their necks to reach each other. Even the small little pecks in passing are gratifying. 

This was the kiss that smeared the last remaining bit of her lip gloss right off, his hands cascade down her body and work on the button of her pants, popping it open and slipping his hand right down the waistband. Harry knows her body like his favorite book -- he spent his time reading her, kissing freckles that she’d not known existed, digging his thumbs into places she would’ve never thought to be erogenous. He was patient with her body and learned every spot that makes her clench her thighs. Much less like her, who practically careens down to his cock out of sheer excitement and arousal. 

They part with a moan, Harry at how wet she was, and Y/N at how good his fingers felt, her thighs attempting to curl around him in response to it but he leans away from her. Harry pulls his fingers from her and pushes them into his mouth, his eyes fluttered at the taste of her arousal, “Wanna eat you,” he murmurs, curling his fingers into the waistband of both her jeans and panties and tugging them down. 

Normally, Y/N would be head over heels to feel his tongue, but she pouted at him as she shakes her head, “No, no, want you inside of me,” she argues, trying to push his jeans down with her foot but it proved difficult, “Want you to fuck me sore.” 

Harry gives a mocking frown as he peels her jeans the rest of the way off, “You taste so good though,” he sighs, albeit feigning his upset, “You’re lucky I love you so much, or I might just have to disregard fucking you entirely - spend all night with my tongue right here,” her legs fall open again for him as his hand rests at the very innermost corner of her thigh, his thumb running over where she’s leaking for him up to the swell of her clit messily, “I think I’d rather enjoy that.” 

“Please,” she begs him and he chuckles warmly - syrupy and slow; he could be so sultry when he wanted to be, “Pretty please?” 

“You beg so pretty,” he acknowledges her, before working himself out of his trousers and as he does so Y/N tears the sweater she wore over her head, watching as Harry struggles out of his cardigan and shirt. As many times as she’s sure they were both far too worked up to even bother removing their clothes, they always peel them off anyway -- Y/N had thought she was the only sucker for skin to skin contact, but Harry was just as greedy for it as she was. 

He crawls back over her, taking her thighs and spreading her out for him again, rocking her up so that her knees were bent towards her chest. It spreads her open entirely and Harry bends down, taking one long drag of his tongue up from her hole to her clit, suckling at the swollen bud. He moans against her, sending vibrations belting through her and she groans, “Harry --” she begins to whine but he pulls himself up. 

“I know, I know, just wanted a taste,” he positions himself, taking ahold of his cock -- swollen, stiff, and a bright red tip glistening with precum that makes Y/N salivate -- he taps it against her cunt and cooed at her when she whimpers, “Such a soft little thing,” he murmurs, almost like he’s speaking to himself, and if not for the eye contact he’s keeping with her, she would think he might be,  “Never have to worry about “sharing” me with anyone ever -- I’m all yours,” his words are honest as he slowly begins to sink into her, and Y/N feels her walls stretch around him. No matter how many times he fucks her, he’ll always feel massive -- like he might just make her pop at the seams. She can feel him in her tummy, the burn of the stretch mixed with the pleasure of him inside of her is almost too much to bare sometimes, especially when she needs it, and especially when he’s being so sweet -- she feels tears spring to her eyes, “Only yours.” 

The moan that leaves her is guttural and loud, and Harry bites down hard on his lip as he smiles, nodding, “That’s what you like hearing, yeah? That I’m all yours?” 

She nods urgently, curling her legs around his waist and bucking her hips up toward him, “All mine,” she drags him closer to her, digging her fingertips into his shoulders and pulling him in, “You’re all fucking mine.”

Harry moans sweetly in her ear, rucking his hips into her, cheek to cheek with her until he tilts to push a kiss to her jaw, “That’s right, baby doll,” he fucks into her slow and deep, letting her feel every inch of him push and drag inside of her, the head of his cock bumping into that spot inside her. She’s soaking him, she knows as much - he glode in easy with how wet that she was, and Harry made it clear that he was all too close when the pad of his thumb starts working on her clit again. If Harry knew he could last, he prided himself in making her cum without any stimulation to her swollen bud, but if he was close then he needed her to cum. Needed her to squeeze and pulsate around him so that they both reached their peaks. 

Y/N turned her head, first nosing at his bare bicep but then she bit down on the swell of the muscle; Harry liked a bite of pain when he’s pistoning his hips inside of her, it’s why he encourages she have her fingers nestled in his hair to give it a tug every so often. He groans, unintentionally flexing from the sudden sting of her teeth and gives her a thrust so hard and deep that he grinds out inside of her. She flexes her hips tighter around him, pulling him impossibly closer so that their bodies slide against each other with every stroke of his hips. 

“Say it again,” she orders, meeting one of his thrusts and giggling when he lets out a startled noise, “Again and again and again.” 

“I’m yours,” he mewls for her, his hips picking up speed, the thud of their skin colliding and their heavy pants fill the room, “I’m all yours -- fuck -- only yours,” he squeezes one hand in between them, grabbing her breast and squeezing, massaging, Y/N just likes how big his hand feels against her, “You’re g’na make me cum, baby,” he whines. 

Y/N is barreling towards her end, his thumb moves quick, tight little circles over her and she feels her end rapidly approaching, “Good,” she huffed, “‘Cos I’m best at it, yeah?” 

He nods, “Yes,” he says breathlessly, “Yes, yes, yes, oh fuck, I --” he pulls out, sliding himself against her slit and when the head of his cock nudges against her clit she cums. Her toes curl, lightening sparkles through her and her fingers dig into his skin. Harry spurts thick and white, painting her lower belly in ribbons of his cum, that beautiful, blissed out look on his face. 

Harry slumps against her, kissing her once. 

“The best,” he murmurs. 

                                                         .                               .                         .

Harry cleans them both up because Y/N is lazy and he has a heart of gold, or so that’s what she tells him when he appears with wet wipes. When he crawls back into the bed, he shrugs himself beneath the covers and laughs brightly when Y/N doesn’t waste a second and wiggles to snuggle into his side. His arms wrap around her instinctually, holding her close, and when she looks up at him he lowers his nose and rubs the tips of theirs together, “What book do you want, Sweetheart?” 

Y/N smiles up to him, “You’re g’na read to me? Aren’t you sleepy?” 

Shrugging, he reaches over and plucks from his nightstand (“The Shining -- a timeless classic, Love, and the movie doesn’t cut it), “Think it’s the least you deserve after tonight. Don’t know how you didn’t tell her off -- think I might if a bloke was being touchy on you. Only reason I didn’t was ‘cos I thought she might take it out on you.” 

She puffs a laugh, snuggling closer into him. 

“Believe me,” she rests her hand on his bare hip, “A few more bevvies in me I would’ve waged war. You’re like some dusty, priceless heirloom.”. 

Harry snorts, “You really know how to make a girl feel special.”