Push Her to the Limit (Ch. 4) (Exclusive) (Patreon)

( Every character in this story is a legal adult over the age of 18 )

Push Her to the Limit

Chapter 4

All Fleur could focus on was the space between her thighs and the heavy, slick pressure of Harry’s cock as it thrust relentlessly between them. She lay on her back, and her spine was arched off the mattress with every pass of his cock. Her legs were together, and they were pressed so tightly in place by Harry’s hands on her ankles that her skin blanched beneath his fingers. He’d thrown them over his shoulder, pinning her to the bed with his own body weight, and now he was fucking her thighs at a slow, maddening pace.

The fat head of his cock found her clit every time, and the blunt force of it sent shocks up her body. Fleur whimpered, desperate for every stroke and unable to prevent her hips from bucking to meet him. Her pussy was hot and wet, and her lips glided around him as he slid between her legs, coating his shaft with her arousal. She balled the sheets in her fists and bit her lip to keep from moaning, but every so often a small, needy cry escaped her. Harry was watching her the whole time. His eyes were fixed on the expressions that flickered across her gorgeous face. He smirked at the way her mouth fell open, the way her cheeks flushed, and the way her long lashes fluttered when pleasure overtook her.

“Listen to you,” Harry said in amusement. “You sound so desperate.” His hands shifted, guiding her legs to squeeze even tighter around his cock. He pressed himself deeper, and the head of his cock mashed directly into her engorged clit. Fleur’s shuddering breath left her lips in a shaky gasp, and she twisted her head, trying to hide her embarrassment and her overwhelming need to cum again

.

“ ‘Arry …,” she managed through a trembling voice. She tried to glare at him, but her resolve faded with every push of his cock.

“I haven’t even started,” he told her, and then he leaned forward, bending her legs toward her chest so that her body was nearly folded in two. The new angle made his cock press against her clit even harder, and the sensation sent ripples of pleasure through her. Harry fucked her thighs with a steady, measured tempo, making small adjustments with his hips that drove her wild. Fleur’s knees were nearly touching her ears, and she felt utterly exposed, but Harry held her without effort, controlling every movement.

Each time he pulled back, his cock dragged across her pussy lips in a long, messy slide, and when he thrust forward again, the tip found her clit and ground into it mercilessly. Fleur’s moans grew louder, and she could feel her orgasm building, making her muscles shake. The mattress groaned beneath them, and Harry’s grip tightened as he increased the pace and mashed his cock through her soaked folds so hard that her entire lower half rocked against the mattress.

Fleur’s thoughts were all over the place. She wanted to beg, plead, and demand that he finish her, but she couldn’t form words. Instead, she let her body do the talking by lifting her hips in time with his thrusts, chasing the next hit of pleasure. She could hear herself panting, and she could feel the heat rising up her neck and into her cheeks. She was right on the edge when Harry abruptly stopped.

He held her there with her legs spread wide and pussy dripping, but he didn’t move. Fleur stared at him in disbelief, but Harry just grinned and let her legs drop onto the bed. He crawled over her, bracing his arms on either side of her head, and his cock pressed against her stomach, smearing a streak of her own juices onto her skin.

“Please …,” Fleur whispered, hating how weak her voice sounded.

“Please what?” Harry teased with his lips close to her ear. “I’m not sure I heard you.”

She looked away, mortified, but he took her chin and turned her face to meet his. “Say it,” he commanded.

Fleur’s lips trembled, but she whispered, “Please make me cum.”

Harry smiled, pleased at her surrender. “See? That wasn’t so hard.” He shifted his weight, and suddenly, Fleur found herself straddling him with her pussy resting directly on his cock. The girth of it forced her delicate lips open until her pussy was practically sucking on the underside of his thick shaft. 

Fleur’s need for release was so urgent that it made it impossible to hold still. Her pussy quivered, and she was so slick that the head of Harry’s cock glided up against her clit in a long, slippery drag. She was so overcome with lust that she could barely think straight, so she let instinct take over and rode him hard, driving her hips forward and grinding her mound onto his shaft. The naughty pressure made her back arch, and her inner walls fluttered as if already in the beginning of an orgasm. She wanted it so badly that she seriously considered just dropping down on his cock and fucking him like there was no tomorrow. Thankfully, she still had some semblance of self-respect left. 

She braced her hands on Harry’s chest for leverage, and she used his warm, solid muscle to steady herself while she rocked her hips. The fat head of Harry’s cock pressed just beneath the opening of her cunt, and she could feel each thick vein as it rubbed up against her lips. Every time she ground down, the underside of his shaft became more soaked, and Fleur could hear her pussy making filthy noises. She wanted to be embarrassed, but she couldn’t think about anything other than how good it felt.

Harry watched her with an annoying, satisfied smirk on his lips. His hands were behind his head, propping himself up as if he didn’t have a care in the world. His abs flexed every time she slid her pussy along his length, and Fleur caught the way his jaw clenched when she moved just right. She realized she was putting on quite the erotic show for him, and it made her even wetter. She wanted to make him lose control. She wanted to make him beg, or at least moan louder than she was moaning. She ground down harder and faster, rolling her hips so that her clit was constantly pinned against the head of his cock.

Fleur tossed her hair back and let her head loll, not caring how desperate she looked. She moved faster still, using all her will to stay upright while her whole body trembled as she pleasured herself on Harry’s cock like it was the only thing that mattered.

She could feel her orgasm building inside her. It was like a tight, burning knot that threatened to snap at any second. She didn’t fight it. She chased the mounting pleasure with every buck of her hips, and she let out a breathless moan.

Harry’s hands left his head and gripped her waist so tightly that her skin dimpled beneath his fingers. He pulled her down, meeting her thrust for thrust, and his cock throbbed between her thighs. Fleur yelped with each impact, but she didn’t slow down. She wanted and needed more, and she could tell from the lustful look in his eyes that he was loving every second of it.

She was so close to cumming that her vision went blurry, and her blue eyes fluttered violently. The pleasure was too much. It felt too good, and she cried out loudly. Harry grinned even wider, and his cock kicked against her clit, making her clamp down and shudder. She kept pounding her hips in a desperate need for release. Fleur’s mounting need drove her to ride Harry even harder, and she was keenly aware of the way the head of his cock brushed against her opening and nearly slipped inside on multiple occasions. She needed to be more careful, but she just couldn’t stop herself. 

With a sudden surge, Harry flipped Fleur onto her back and seized her thighs in his strong hands, spreading her open so wide that her knees almost touched the bed. Fleur was left breathless, and before she could process it, Harry was already at her entrance, dragging his thick shaft up and down her slick, puffy lips. Fleur whimpered, and her whole body arched off the bed as the head of his cock slid directly against her throbbing clit.

Harry’s hips snapped forward, and he began to saw his cock along the length of her delicate folds, grinding against her with a steady, relentless tempo that made Fleur gasp and clutch at the sheets. Each stroke seemed to set off a new round of shuddering tremors in her overstimulated core, and she could feel her orgasm building again, tighter and more insistent than before. Fleur couldn’t stop herself from squirming, but Harry’s grip on her thighs was tight, and he had her pinned in place, leaving her completely at his mercy. The wet, vulgar sound of his cock slapping against her slit filled the room and made Fleur’s face burn with a mixture of embarrassment and excitement.

She squeezed her eyes shut and bit down hard on her lower lip, but the pressure grew too much, and her next cry came out as a broken wail. He sped up, driving his cock between her folds with more force, and Fleur felt her orgasm cresting like a tidal wave. Her vision went white, and her body spasmed as the climax crashed over her, leaving her shaking and whimpering in its wake.

Harry wasn’t far behind. He groaned loudly, his body tensed, and his hips jerked forward one last time. Warm, thick ropes of cum shot from his cock and splattered across Fleur’s pale, trembling stomach, painting her in streaks of white. The heat of it made her shiver, and she watched in disbelief as he continued to pump out more, marking her with every pulse.

Even as his release subsided, Harry didn’t stop. He kept his cock pressed between her lips, using the slippery mess of her arousal and his cum to lubricate the motion. He pressed the head of his cock against her clit, and Fleur squealed at the oversensitivity. Harry didn’t let up. He pinned her wrists above her head and leaned in until his lips touched hers. Fleur found herself responding, and soon, she was moaning into his mouth while he sucked on her tongue. 

Push Her to the Limit

After three days of unrelenting, toe-curling, mind-numbing pleasure, Fleur stumbled into her bedroom, walking with a wobble that spoke volumes about what she’d endured. Her thighs ached, and her pussy was sore, but she didn’t care. Her neck still bore the faint red marks from Harry’s lips, and her cheeks flushed hot when she remembered all the filthy things he did to her body. None of it could ruin her mood, not when she clutched a sleek black shoebox with a gold-foil logo that glittered in the light. The box alone was a work of art, but the contents felt like they belonged in a museum.

She collapsed onto her mattress and, with trembling hands, she opened the box. The heels nestled inside glimmered under her bedroom’s overhead light. Fleur brushed her fingers across the black dragonhide, and the material felt so soft and perfect that she almost couldn’t believe they were real. She turned them over, checking for any flaw, but there wasn’t a single scuff or stitch out of place. When she set them on the bed, she stared at them for a long time, almost afraid to touch them again.

A giggle slipped out before she could stop it. Fleur scooped the shoes up and cradled them to her chest. She tried to imagine the look on her mother’s face if she could see her now. The thought was so funny that Fleur laughed again, and she rolled back on the bed with the shoes pressed to her breasts. Fleur let out an excited squeal and kicked her feet. She couldn’t believe she had her very own pair of Sergio LaFlonts. She couldn’t wait to show them off. 

Push Her to the Limit

Gabrielle’s voice carried through the little stone house as she clanged a breakfast spoon against her coffee cup. “Come on, Fleur! The sale will be over if you don’t hurry!” She sat alone at the kitchen table with one sexy leg crossed over the other, scrolling through a fashion magazine while waiting for Fleur. She checked the clock with mounting impatience and rolled her eyes as she heard a creak on the landing above.

“I heard you, Gabby!” Fleur hollered down the stairs with a note of exasperation in her voice. She heard Fleur stomping around upstairs as she hurried to answer her summons. Fleur’s footsteps paused for a moment, then she came down the stairs with a kind of slow, casual grace. She wore a black silk slip dress with a thigh-high slit. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, and her skin was lightly flushed. She came down barefoot, and she carried a black shoebox with gold embossing, cradling it like a newborn.

She reached the bottom of the stairs and set the shoebox on the entryway table. She smoothed her dress before glancing at herself in the hall mirror. She cocked her head, pursed her lips, and drew a line of cherry gloss over her mouth. She gave her reflection a flirtatious wink. 

Gabby twisted around from her seat, pretending to be unimpressed. She pointed at Fleur’s feet. “You know, they won’t let you into the boutiques barefoot, right?” she said.

Fleur smiled smugly. She lifted the box and sauntered into the kitchen, setting it down in front of Gabby with a soft thud. “I know that, Gabby. Give me a second,” she responded. 

Gabby rolled her eyes but leaned in. Her curiosity was piqued, and she looked at the box. Fleur pried open the lid, peeled back a layer of tissue, and produced the shoes. She pulled out a gorgeous pair of black dragonhide stilettos. The burnt orange soles immediately caught her attention, and Gabby gasped. The logo on the box top read Sergio LaFlont in elegant gold script, and for a second, Gabby could have sworn the shoes glowed with radiant light. 

“Sergio LaFlont,” Gabby whispered in awe. She reached for one of the shoes, but Fleur tsked and pulled it back. “I do not want your grubby fingerprints on them. They’re brand new.”

“You can’t just drop that on me,” Gabby protested with wide eyes. “How did you get them? I’ve looked in every shop and tried every contact. Sergio LaFlonts are impossible to get.”

Fleur grinned, slid a foot into the first heel, and buckled the delicate strap. “Let’s just say I have my ways.”

Gabby slumped back in her chair, pouting, and she crossed her arms over her chest. She eyed the shoes with burning jealousy. 

“You know, you don’t even like wearing heels,” Gabby muttered. She tried to sound dismissive, but it was obvious she was fuming. “The last time you wore them, you made me give you a piggyback ride home.”

“That was because I twisted my ankle,” Fleur replied, standing to admire herself in the glass oven door. “Besides, they look so good on me.” The shoes made her calves look extra sexy. She turned one foot this way and that, then turned and grinned at Gabby, who looked away with a red face. 

Fleur’s grin only widened. She took a step forward, and the stilettos clicked loudly on the tile. “The dragonhide is as soft as butter,” she taunted and spun so the orange soles flashed again. “They’re limited edition, you know. LaFlont only made three pairs of these.”

Gabby tried to laugh, but it came out strangled. Even so, she couldn’t help but stare at them. “You’re going to ruin them in Paris,” she warned, as if trying to curse the shoes with her jealousy.

“They are enchanted to protect them from scuffs,” Fleur said, and she struck a pose that would make any supermodel jealous. “How do I look?”

Gabby scowled. “Like someone who’s trying too hard,” she answered. 

Fleur just laughed and reached over to ruffle Gabby’s hair. Gabby batted her away. “You’re so annoying,” Gabby whined as she continued to seethe with jealousy. Fleur laughed again. She looked like she was having the time of her life, and it only annoyed Gabby even more. 

Gabby wanted to know how Fleur had gotten those shoes. They were impossible to find, and even if she did, Fleur wouldn’t have been able to afford them in a million years. Something was going on, and Gabby intended to find out. 

Push Her to the Limit

“You’re leaving again?!” Fleur practically shouted as soon as she saw Bill packing his bag. He froze in the act of stuffing another pair of socks into it, and his shoulders slumped in defeat. For a moment, he tried to pretend he hadn’t heard her, but the tension in the room was impossible to ignore. After a few seconds, he turned to face her with his mouth already open, desperate to explain.

“Fleur, I really have to go …” he started, but she cut him off with a glare so sharp it could have sliced through dragonhide.

“You just got back, and now you are leaving me all alone again?” Fleur’s hands were on her hips, and she was glaring daggers at him. She was still in the pink nightie she had bought with gold that she had earned from Harry. She had worn it for Bill this morning to spice things up, but instead, he was getting ready to leave again. 

Bill ran his hands through his already-messy red hair. “It’s not what you think. The goblins, they … there’s trouble at the Romanian dig site. They need me. I can’t just say no.”

Fleur narrowed her eyes and stepped closer. “And what about your wife? Do you ever think maybe I need you too?” She didn’t yell, but the words landed with more weight than if she had screamed them.

Bill’s face softened. He closed the space between them and reached for her hands, but Fleur kept her arms stubbornly crossed over her chest. He tried again. “I know. I do. I promise, I’ll make it up to you when I get back.”

Fleur snorted. “That’s what you always say.” She turned away and stared out the window at the empty garden with her jaw clenched. The silence stretched uncomfortably long. 

Bill said something, but Fleur was locked in her own thoughts. He picked up the bag and began to pack faster, as if getting out the door sooner might make the parting easier for both of them. Finally, Fleur spun around to face him again. “ ‘ow long this time?” she demanded.

He hesitated, then answered, “Three months. Maybe four, if things get messy.” He sounded apologetic, but also resigned.

Fleur’s lips quivered, but she drew in a deep breath and steadied herself. She wanted to throw something and scream, but she stopped herself. Instead, she suddenly remembered how Harry buried his face between her spread thighs and made her cum so hard that she wrapped her legs around the back of his neck. She had her own ways to fill the lonely hours, and of course, she could get some nice paydays out of it. That meant several months of shopping trips to look forward to. She almost smiled at the thought, but she caught herself just in time.

“I understand,” she said with a sweet smile. “Sometimes we must make sacrifices.”

Bill breathed a sigh of relief. He had expected her to yell loud enough to crack the bedroom windows. “That’s my girl,” he said happily. Bill zipped the bag and slung it over his shoulder. “I’ll write whenever I have time,” he promised without much conviction. Fleur gave him a look that said she’d believe it when she saw it. He almost never wrote. 

He stepped close and pecked her jaw. “I have to get to Gringotts right away. The Portkey leaves soon.”

Fleur looked at him, nodded, and smiled sweetly once again. “Just come back in one piece,” she said. “And bring something nice.”

Bill chuckled, then paused at the threshold. “Deal,” he said, and then he was gone. The door clicked shut behind him.

Fleur watched the door after he left. She waited until the faint sound of his footsteps vanished down the walkway before turning away. Fleur stood there with her arms still crossed, trying to decide if she felt more angry or relieved. In the end, it was both.

She pivoted and strutted to the mirror. She checked her hair and dabbed a smear of lipstick on her mouth. She didn’t look sad or lonely. She looked like she was about to cause a lot of trouble, and for once, she was completely okay with that.