When daddy calls
Dbf!Harry Da Souza x f!reader
Harry Masterlist Updates account
｡𖦹°‧➵ It’s hard to keep up appearances when you’ve got Harry at a family dinner… and your foot sneaking onto his lap under the table
｡𖦹°‧➵ warning/tags: smut, minors DNI, footjob, age gap, car blowjob, unprotected piv, creampie, fingering
The first time it ever happened, Harry had wanted to chop his own dick off. Maybe even submit to one of those chemical castrations. Because he had no business sleeping with his best mate’s daughter. No right, no excuse, no justification. It was an unspoken law, a sacred rule in the unwritten mate’s guidebook, and he had shattered it in a single, impulsive moment of weakness. He didn’t deserve to ever use his dick again, not after the way he’d betrayed a trust so deep it ought to have been untouchable.
But then there you were. Standing there, looking as impossibly, infuriatingly pretty as ever. Tempting. Irresistible. You had always been a test of restraint. What was he, in the end? Just a man. Weak, as all men were, prone to desire. And what was a man supposed to do when you offered yourself like that, when you guided him up the stairs to your room, when you shed your clothes and laid bare, legs open, daring him to take whatever he wanted? The answer, he realized, with brutal clarity, was to fuck you like a beast. To pound you into the mattress until your voice was raw, until both of you were slick and gasping and trembling.
You were nothing like your brother Eddie. Nothing like the rest of your family. You were kind, polite, sharper than them all. Maybe, in some corner of his guilt-addled mind, he sought comfort in imagining that you weren’t Kevin’s biological kid either, but every night, when he presses atop you, when he buries himself inside you and drags you across the sheets, he swears that if he squints hard enough, he could see Kevin’s eyes in yours. And even then, after months together, it twists his gut with a guilt that refused to fade.
Neither of you had any idea where this was headed. Harry could sense Conrad wouldn’t mind, he might raise an eyebrow at the age difference, sure, but what better than to marry his grandchild to a man as reliable as Harry? One that he trusted so deeply? What better way to secure Harry’s loyalty to the family by binding him officially to the Harrigans?
But Kevin… Kevin would never forgive him. It would shatter him, the betrayal of months spent hiding in plain sight. Who could predict what a father, thinking his daughter had been taken advantage of, might do? Rage, revenge, despair, all were possible.
Tonight your father had invited him over to watch the game before dinner. Harry sat opposite you, his posture impeccable, the rigid precision of a man trained to command every inch of himself, every movement calculated, but the tautness in his jaw, the slight tightening of his shoulders, betrayed him.
His face remained neutral, neutral enough that anyone else might have believed him. But you knew better. You could sense the predator lurking beneath, the barely restrained heat simmering just under the surface, and every time your eyes met his across the table, it became harder for him not to think about you naked, harder not to hear the echo of your moans every time you laughed, harder not to remember you bent over his desk the night before.
The first bite of roast chicken passed without incident, polite conversation flowing, but naturally, you decided to test him.
Under the table, you slid your bare foot casually along the floor, brushing against his calf. Innocent, barely-there contact, yet deliberate… a touch designed to provoke, to spark a reaction. Harry flicked his eyes downward, trying to decipher what you were doing, whether you were foolishly bold or dangerously cunning, right here with your father only a few feet away.
You smiled up at him, perfectly angelic, your eyes glinting with mischief.
“And so I told dad to let you breathe,” Kevin said, lifting his glass of wine. “You shouldn’t have so much on yourself all the time.”
“Dad, Harry is a big guy, he can handle it,” you said, your voice soft and teasing, impossible for him to ignore. “Right, big guy?”
The words made him flinch ever so slightly, just a twitch of muscle that betrayed the rush of heat surging through him. Big guy. It made him remember all those times you whispered dirty things to him. All those times you’d said “You’re so fucking big, Harry” before taking him in your mouth.
You were clearly doing this on purpose. You moved your foot again, higher this time, brushing the front of his trousers, pressing lightly against him, curling your toes in a slow, teasing rhythm, making Harry shift in his seat. You could feel him instantly: thick, already half-hard, the heat of his cock straining against the fabric as you dragged the ball of your foot along the rigid outline.
“Mm?” you asked innocently, as though nothing had happened. “Everything okay over there?”
Harry’s eyes darkened, he cleared his throat, forcing his posture rigid. “Fine,” he said, but the edge beneath it was undeniable. “This uh… this chicken is really good, Bella.”
“Oh, don’t thank me,” your mother interjected lightly. “All credits to the cook.”
You let your smile widen, letting your foot linger against him, brushing and stroking just enough to make him squirm without offering the kind of relief he craved. Leaning forward slightly, elbows on the table, chin resting lightly in your hands, you appeared absorbed in your parents’ conversation.
Your father, blissfully unaware, launched into a story about his teenage years with Harry, gesturing animatedly with knife and fork. You bit back a laugh as Harry’s fingers twitched, almost unconsciously reaching for your ankle, before he forced them back into his lap.
You curled your toes in a lazy, teasing rhythm, with slow drags up the length, then a firmer press right over the swollen head, watching Harry’s jaw clench. He shifted in his seat, spreading his thighs just a fraction wider under the table like his body was begging for more even as he tried to keep his face neutral.
A low groan caught in his throat when you flexed your foot again, spreading your torso to cradle the fat ridge of him through the fabric, rubbing in tight little circles that made him twitch his hips forward involuntarily. His free hand gripped your ankle, not to stop you, but to hold you there, pressing your foot harder against his aching cock like he needed the pressure to stay sane.
Your lips curved into a silent, taunting smile as you mouthed: “Don’t get distracted, big guy.”
Harry gripped the edge of the table, knuckles whitening, trembling just enough to betray his inner struggle. His pulse hammered in his throat and groin, and yet he maintained the polite facade, forcing a composed smile for your father’s benefit. Every fiber of him screamed to take you, to claim you here, to punish your audacity, but he couldn’t. Not in front of your family. Not right now.
You laughed softly, a delicate and musical sound that sent shivers down his spine. Your foot glided over him again, lingering just long enough over the most sensitive spots to make him groan quietly into his napkin. When your mother turned to ask a question about the wine, you pivoted your head, smiling, nodding, answering fully, while under the table, you were orchestrating his torment.
By the time dessert arrived, Harry’s restraint was stretched to its breaking point. The polite conversation was now little more than a distant hum. You’d teased his cock relentlessly for a full hour, massaging the rigid length through his trousers from base to tip, then cupping his heavy and full balls, rolling them gently in the arch of your foot until you felt them draw up tight, aching for release.
Every time his breathing hitched and he tensed like he was about to beg, you’d stop. Pull back. Then you’d return, lighter this time, stroking him with just the soft pads of your toes, tracing the fat, throbbing outline of his cockhead, feeling it jump.
You’d retreat again, leaving him throbbing and untouched for long, cruel seconds, only to press back harder the next time, grinding your heel right against the leaking slit. By now he was certain his boxers were ruined, completely soaked through, a messy puddle of pre-cum seeping through the cotton, clinging to his shaft, matting the coarse hair at the base.
Kevin wasn’t stupid. He’d known Harry for half his life, knew the man’s habits, his temper, the slightest tells that betrayed him. Harry was the kind of man who could sit through chaos and never flinch, but that night, something was off.
It started small. The way Harry avoided your gaze during dinner, darting his eyes anywhere but your face. The slight tremor in his hand when he lifted his glass. The smallest shifts in posture, the stiff shoulders, the forced calm in his tone, they all spoke louder than any words could. Kevin had seen men lie before. He’d seen guilt, from the smallest cheat to the deepest betrayal. And Harry… he was showing the same cracks.
After dinner, when you and your mother tidied up in the kitchen, Kevin and Harry ended up in the living room.
Kevin poured them both a drink. “You all right, bruv?” he asked, his voice casual.
Harry looked up, startled for a fraction of a second, before forcing a small smile. “Hmm. Fine. Why?”
Kevin studied him, tilting his glass, narrowing his eyes just enough. “You just seem… tense.”
Harry shrugged, keeping his voice steady, though the subtle rasp betrayed him. “Long week. That’s all.”
Kevin nodded, pretending to buy it, but his mind was already racing. He’d noticed the way you looked at Harry too, the slight glances, the faint blushes, the spark in your eyes, and it tightened his stomach with unease. Then there was Harry’s reaction whenever you spoke: too attentive, too quiet, as though every heartbeat of yours set him on edge.
“You sure?” Kevin pressed, glass in hand. “’Cause I know you, H. You get that look in your eye when something’s eating at you.”
Harry took a deliberate sip, avoiding Kevin’s gaze. “Nothing’s eating at me.”
Kevin smiled faintly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Right.”
Kevin’s mind replayed the dinner, every glance, every imperceptible twitch. But it had to be wrong. Surely he was imagining things, there was no way something like that could be happening. How stupid had he been to even consider it?
A few minutes later, you came back from the kitchen.
“Dad, I’m leaving now.”
Kevin wrapped an arm around your shoulders, giving a soft, affectionate kiss to your head. With a falling marriage and a son like Eddie, it wasn’t hard to understand why he clung so tightly to you, his daughter, the one thing he believed he’d done right in his life.
“Why don’t you stay the night?” he asked, his voice gentle. “It’s late. Your old room’s ready.”
“Can’t do. Gotta feed the cat, and I have to be up early tomorrow anyway,” you said. If saying “feed the cat” meant being fucked by Harry all night long, then yes, it wasn’t exactly untrue.
“Then call an Uber,” Kevin said, already reaching for his phone, but Harry cut him off.
“I can drive her,” he said, measured, like it was nothing more than a casual offer. “It’s on my way home.”
Kevin nodded. “Sure. Thanks.” He pulled you close for a final hug. “Let me know when you get home. See you around, love.”
You grabbed your purse and headed toward the door as Harry slapped your father on the back, exchanging quick goodbyes.
Outside, you slid into the passenger seat of Harry’s car, closing the door with a soft thud. He started the engine but didn’t move immediately. For a few long seconds, he simply stared ahead through the windshield, drumming his fingers lightly on the steering wheel.
The streetlights passed in golden streaks as he drove. Neither of you spoke at first. The silence was heavy.
Halfway down the road, he exhaled sharply through his nose. “You can’t do that, babe,” he said finally, controlled but carrying the weight of frustration.
You glanced at him, pretending not to understand. “Do what?”
He clenched his jaw. “That thing you did. Under the table.” His eyes flicked to yours. “You can’t pull shit like that in front of your father, yeah? Jesus Christ.”
You pressed your lips together, trying not to smile, but the tease slipped through in your voice. “You didn’t seem to mind too much.”
He groaned softly, one hand leaving the wheel to rub the bridge of his nose. “That’s not the point.” His accent thickened when he was upset, you could hear it now. “Your old man’s sittin’ right there. He’s my mate. You understand how wrong that is?”
You turned your gaze to the window, the lights flickering across your face. “I know,” you whispered. “I just wanted to see how much you could take.”
Harry let out a breath that was part laugh, part sigh, though no real amusement touched it. “Yeah, well, now you’ve seen it. Not much, apparently.” He tightened his fingers on the wheel. “You think you’re clever, don’t you? Pushing me like that.”
You met his eyes briefly, though his focus remained fixed on the road. “I wasn’t trying to make you angry,” you said softly. Truthfully, all you wanted was to tease him, have some fun, the kind of intimacy couples shared. Only you weren’t a normal couple, and you weren’t out on a double date with friends.
“Yeah?” he muttered. “Well, you did anyway.”
The car rolled to a stop at a red light. For a long moment, the only sounds were the hum of the engine and the distant night. Then Harry turned his gaze fully to you, really looking, and for the first time, the tension seemed to crack.
“Listen,” he said quietly. “You gotta be careful with this. With me. You can’t just… act like that where people can see. It’s not a game.”
You met his eyes squarely. “I know.”
He studied you a few seconds longer before shaking his head, a faint exhale escaping him as the light turned green.
“Please don’t be mad at me, H,” you whispered.
“I’m… I’m not mad, babe,” he replied, he sounded weary, his voice roughened with fatigue. “Just… be careful next time. No games.”
And yet, you could feel it, his arousal straining against the zipper of his pants, still thick and hot after your teasing before, pulsing for attention. He was counting the seconds until you were alone, behind closed doors where he could finally let himself go. Where he could press you against a wall, tear at your clothes, and fuck you like he wanted.
“No more games,” you whispered, leaning forward, letting your chest brush against his arm, tracing with your fingers the outline of his thigh. “That’s such a shame, ‘cause I had a really fun one in mind.”
He moved his eyes toward you, a warning buried in that dangerous glint. “Babe… what’re you on about?”
You smirked, letting your hand drift lower, brushing over the outline of his cock through the thin denim. “This,” you murmured, letting your fingers play over the hard ridge pressing against the fabric. Your other hand moved to his zipper, slowly dragging it down, teasing, letting the first inch of him spring free.
He swallowed, one hand still steady on the wheel, the other twitching near his thigh. “Babe… babe. I’m driving.”
“Then you should focus on the road, big guy.” You leaned closer, letting your lips brush the tip of him, your tongue darting out to tease the sensitive head. The warmth of your mouth made him shift in his seat, a groan vibrating through his chest. “Jesus, Harry… you’re so fucking big.”
“Fuck… don’t…” he warned, his voice tight, the muscles in his jaw flexing as he tried to hold control. “You’re gonna make us fucking crash.”
You ignored him, swirling your tongue around the tip, tracing over the slit, teasing him until he shivered. Then, slowly, you sank him deeper into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and letting the wet, slick heat coat every inch of him. You pulled back just slightly, letting the tip rest against the roof of your mouth before sliding him all the way back down again.
Harry’s hand twitched on the wheel, his chest rising and falling rapidly, groans cutting through the quiet of the car. “Jesus… you’re—shit—”
You wrapped your fingers around the base, squeezing gently, matching the rhythm of your mouth, letting your tongue tease him as you stroked. Every flick and slide of your lips made him grunt, he was shifting his hips almost instinctively, pressing against you as if trying to sink even further into your mouth.
You lifted your head just enough to meet his gaze, letting your eyes slide over him with mischief. Then you went back down, taking him deeper, letting your lips stretch around him, swallowing him inch by inch. You curled your tongue under, pressing against the underside, rubbing the sensitive ridge just right, making him groan and grip the wheel tighter.
He tried to focus on the road, but his breathing hitched as your mouth worked him over. You stroked him up and down with your hand, feeling the thick pulse of his erection in your palm. You sucked at the head, teasing it between your lips just slightly, making him gasp, and then relaxed your jaw to let him slide in deeper again.
“Babe, fuck…” he groaned, brushing back your hair, tangling his fingers in the strands as he tilted your head to change the angle, so you could take him even deeper.
You pulled back slightly, licking a long stripe up his length, then wrapped your lips around the base, taking in all of him with a wet, sloppy sound. You lapped your tongue over the veins and sensitive underside, sucking and swirling, feeling his pulse throb with each movement. Every little gag, every subtle throat stretch, made him moan.
Harry tightened his free hand in your hair, not to stop you, but to guide you, tilt your head, control the depth. You bobbed your head and swirled your mouth in a relentless rhythm, moving your fingers in perfect sync, stroking the base as your lips did the rest.
“You’re… Christ…” he groaned, gritting his teeth. “Too good… can’t—don’t—shit…”
You moved your hand to his balls, rubbing, cupping, feeling the heat and pulse of him as your mouth worked. You pulled back just enough to catch a gasp, then dove down again, taking him fully, the tightness in his thighs betraying how close he was.
Harry tried to warn you, his voice was rough, but he couldn’t stop the groans that spilled from his chest, the way his hips subtly pressed forward, driving deeper into your mouth with each stroke of your hand and twist of your tongue. He gripped the wheel tighter, but he made no effort to pull away, letting you take full control.
“You’re insane… my god… never felt—fucking hell…”
You hummed around him, you couldn’t help it, you wanted every inch, every pulse. Saliva was dripping down the shaft as your lips sucked.
“Fucking Christ, babe… you’re ridiculous… look at this mess…”
You didn’t care. The spit ran down the sides, pooling at the base, and some dripped onto your chin, glistening wet. You swallowed, gagged, took him deeper.
“Too… good… too goddamn good,” he muttered. His other hand left the wheel for a moment to slide down your back, gripping your ass through your clothes, kneading your flesh and tugging you closer, making you whimper as your chest pressed into him.
By the time you arrived at your place, your chin was coated in spit, his shaft glistening with your saliva, and his cock still hard, twitching and pulsing. He pulled back just enough to tuck himself into his pants, adjusting the zipper with a grimace, though his hand lingered on you for a possessive squeeze of your hip.
You climbed out first, fumbling with the keys in a daze, still flushed and dripping, and he followed. “You’re insane, you know that, babe?” he said.
“I know,” you breathed, smirking despite the mess. “And you love it.”
He didn’t answer with words. Instead, he pushed you against the doorframe, pressing his chest against yours, brushing your temple, jaw, and the side of your neck with his lips. He roamed his hands over your back and ass, gripping, kneading, marking you.
Inside your room, you didn’t waste time. You pulled him in, tugging your fingers at his shirt and belt, unbuttoning the pants he’d tucked himself into. Harry tugged his pants and boxers down, the fabric slipped over his hips, then down his thighs, pooling at his feet. His erection sprang free, the tip still flushed and glistening with your spot and his pre-cum in the dim light of the room.
He stepped out of the clothing, and the second he was free, you didn’t hesitate, you pressed him back onto the bed, letting your mouth fall onto him immediately, sloppy and wet, dragging all the frustration from the car into the moment.
Harry groaned, holding your head like it was the only thing keeping him from exploding. “Babe… shit… you’re gonna—fuck, just like that… so good…”
You didn’t stop. Every stroke of your tongue, every deep hollow of your cheeks, every slick, sloppy suck drove him closer.
He was shaking beneath you, moaning your name over and over. He jerked his hips up occasionally, and you swallowed and licked with even more greed.
“Holy fuck, babe… can’t… I’m—shit—” His words were broken, almost incoherent, but he still kept control.
You gagged slightly on the thick length. He bucked, groaned, trying not to cum yet, but it was impossible not to give in to the immense pleasure you were giving him.
Harry came with a guttural roar, his voice breaking, as ropes of his cum filled your mouth, some spilling down your chin, slick and hot, coating your tongue. You swallowed as much as you could, some dribbling down onto your breasts, and onto the messy sheets below.
When he finally leaned back, spent, trembling, you wiped your chin with the back of your hand, smiling up at him. “Was I good, Harry?”
“You were perfect.” He pulled you close, arms wrapping around your waist, holding you tight. “Jesus… only you could do that to me, babe. Only you…” His chest heaved, still catching his breath, as he rested his forehead against yours.
Without a word, Harry grabbed your wrist, pulling you up until your hands pressed into the bed, your ass lifted slightly in surrender.
“Over my knee,” he growled, a sound that made your core clench instantly. You obeyed, letting him guide you, until your stomach pressed against the hard line of his thigh and your legs hanged off his lap. His hands lingered on your hips for a moment, gripping firmly, claiming, and the slight press of his weight made your ass raise just a bit higher.
In one quick, fluid movement, he gripped the hem of your pants with a strength that made your body shiver, tugging them down along with your panties in a single motion. The fabric pooled around your ankles, and suddenly you were bare before him, your ass round and perfect, your pussy glistening and exposed.
He settled one hand on your lower back while the other traveled downward, tracing the curve of your ass before pressing in the cleft between your cheeks. He pressed his thumb into the skin, caressing, making you shiver with need.
Then, two fingers were inside you, so thick, curling, probing, finding every wet, sensitive spot. You gasped, pressing your hips back instinctively against his hand. “H-Harry… fuck…” Your voice shook, half moan, half plea.
“Relax,” he murmured, pressing his big digits deeper. “Let me take care of you.”
You didn’t need convincing. Every stroke, every press of his fingers inside you made your knees quiver, your body arching in time with his relentless, masterful touch. He began to curl them inside you, finding the spots that made you tremble and whimper, making you push your hips back against him without thinking.
He shifted just enough to press the pad of his thumb harder against your swollen clit, tracing unyielding circles that rubbed the oversensitive nub while his fingers kept plunging deep into your dripping cunt, curling and scissoring with every wet thrust. The brutal combination of his thumb grinding on your clit while those curled digits fucked that perfect spot inside you, sent your head spinning.
You clutched desperately at his thighs, digging your nails into the hard muscle, anchoring yourself as you rocked your hips shamelessly against his hand, chasing more. The slick sounds filled the air, from the wet squelch of your pussy swallowing his fingers, to the slick drag of his thumb over your pulsing clit, and your own broken whimpers mixing with the groans rumbling from his chest.
“You feel so good,” Harry muttered, never slowing his fingers. “So fucking wet, so fucking ready. You love it, don’t you, love?”
“Yes—yes, Harry! Please… don’t stop…” Your plea was desperate, smeared with need, and he responded with a grin you could feel through his hands pressing against your flesh.
One of his hands moved to grip your hair, tilting your head slightly, pulling your attention to him, while the other continued to fuck you inside, sliding in and out. Every flick, every curl of his finger made your walls clench around him, gripping his hand like it was the only thing keeping you tethered to reality.
“You’re mine,” he growled, pressing harder into your clit with his thumb. The word hit you like a punch, making your heart race and your pussy pulse, completely lost in the pleasure he was giving you.
You rolled your hips against him without control, grinding back against him. “Harry—oh god—yes—fuck—don’t stop!”
He chuckled, leaning close so his lips brushed your ear. “Not stopping, love. Not until your perfect little cunt can’t take it anymore.” His words were heat in your ear, igniting the fire that had been building.
Your body shuddered, squelching wetly around his fingers, and he grinned at the sound, pressing a little harder. “That’s it, take it… Take me like this, so fucking greedy.”
Every breath, every moan, every little cry you let out fed him, and he didn’t slow, not even when you felt like you were going to cum right there over his knee, dripping with your own wetness.
“You’re gonna cum for me, yeah?” he asked, curling his fingers one last time deep inside you. You could feel the heat building, the coil of need threatening to snap, your walls fluttering around him, your pussy pulsing.
“Yes… oh fuck yes! Harry—please, please—” you gasped, your body shuddering violently as your climax ripped through you, wringing him, coating his fingers with your juices, squeezing and clenching around him as you jerked uncontrollably.
He held you through it, milking every last drop of your release. “Mine… all mine… that’s it, let it all out for me.”
Your body sagged against him, trembling, coated in sweat and sticky heat, as he finally withdrew his fingers, pressing the back of his hand over your soaked pussy, smirking as he surveyed his work. “Look at that, love… your cunt all slick for me. You’re ready for my cock, ain’t you?”
You nodded, breathless, weak, watching through your peripheral vision as Harry shifted higher onto the bed, dragging your pliant body closer to his.
You settled into his lap, wrapping your legs around his waist, pressing your chest to his, and your arms around his neck.
Just as he settled you fully, your phone started ringing across the bed.
“Fuck,” you muttered, reaching out yo grab it, your hips instinctively pressing back against him as if to steal a second to breathe.
“Don’t,” Harry murmured, and before you could argue, he captured your mouth with his. His kiss was demanding, possessive.
He tangled his tongue with yours, pulling and twisting, wrapping one strong hand around the back of your head, pressing you impossibly closer. You let yourself melt against him for a brief second, but reality intervened, and you pulled back.
“Just a sec,” you said, fumbling for your phone. “Fucking hell,” you widened your eyes as the screen lit up.
Dad.
Harry’s body stiffened, his cock brushing impossibly against your slick entrance, but he made no move to stop you. Just watched you.
With a long, annoyed sigh, he leaned back slightly, brushing the sensitive skin at the nape of your neck with his mouth. You held the phone to your ear.
“Yeah? Dad?” you said, trying to keep your tone normal while Harry roamed his hands subtly over your waist, brushing his thumb dangerously close to the swell of your ass.
“Love. Just wanted to see if you got home alright,” Kevin said. “You said you’d call, and I’ve been up waiting.”
“Yeah, sorry,” you mumbled, biting your lip to suppress a moan as Harry grazed his teeth over the tender skin of your shoulder and neck. Each nip sent heat pooling lower in your body. “I’m just really tired… went straight to—uhh—straight to bed.”
“I tried to call H, but he didn’t pick up,” Kevin continued. “Don’t you think he was acting… weird today?”
“H? What? Noo—ohh.” You stuttered, pressing your hips automatically against the tip of Harry’s cock, slick and eager, nudging against your soaked entrance. “You know, Harry—he’s probably on his way home. Don’t worry, okay? Loveyoubye,” you rushed, cutting the conversation short and tossing the phone across the bed, your pulse racing as you threw yourself back onto Harry’s lap.
“Fucking hell, he’s like a clockwork.” Harry gripped your hips firmly, pressing his thumbs into your skin as he tilted you just so. “Relax, love. Just let me move you,” he murmured.
You did as he said, letting your body go slack, except for the parts that ached for him, and he guided you, lifting, tilting, pressing you down. His cock pressed hard into your wet and slick heat, and you gasped at the fullness, at the way every nerve ending screamed for more.
“You feel so fucking good, babe,” he groaned, gripping your hips tight enough to leave bruises. “Every inch of you, wrapped around me… all mine.”
“Please… I need all of you,” you whimpered, clutching at his shoulders. “Don’t stop.”
You rolled your hips forward exactly as he guided you, surrendering to the grip of his hands on your waist while he controlled every second of it. He thrust your body down onto him with deliberate force, making you take every thick, veined inch of his cock in one long stretching glide that had your soaked walls fluttering and gripping him like a vice.
The drag was obscene, your heat clinging to him, your pussy lips stretched taut around his girth, dripping down his shaft and coating his balls with every drop of your arousal.
Your breath hitched, and you moaned as he pressed both big palms hard into the small of your lower back, arching you just right, tilting your pelvis so the fat head of his cock raked directly over that spongy spot inside you on every upstroke. The new angle made stars burst behind your eyelids, and every time he yanked you down, your clit ground against his pubic bone while he bottomed out deep enough to bruise.
“Look at you, riding me so fucking pretty,” he growled, pressing his forehead against yours. “Let me feel you squeeze me, love. Tighten around me.”
“Oh… fuck, Harry!” you gasped and obeyed, clenching hard as he pushed you deeper, your walls fluttering, throbbing, soaking him with your arousal. Every tilt, every thrust, every guided movement sent shivers of pleasure spiraling through your body, and your cries grew louder.
Harry’s hands were relentless, roaming your back, your ass, your hips, guiding you to fuck yourself into him perfectly. His cock filled you, every thrust hitting deep, making you gasp and whimper.
“Fuck… look at you, little cunt’s so greedy, so wet,” he growled, controlling the depth and speed of every movement. “God, love, you’re amazing like this.”
“God, yes… just like that,” you breathed, arching against him. “Harder… don’t stop!”
You felt the heat building, spreading from your core to every part of you, every nerve screaming for release. He whispered filthy encouragements, guiding your hips faster, pushing you into him over and over, making your walls clamp around him involuntarily.
“Come on, babe,” he murmured. “Let go for me… I want to see you cum on my cock.”
You couldn’t hold it. Your body convulsed, shaking in his lap, pulsing around his cock as your climax ripped through you, high and violent, loud cries muffled against his shoulder. Harry groaned deep in response, pressing his chest against yours, letting you ride out the orgasm while he kept moving you, pumping you full of his cock.
When you finally trembled to a stop, gasping, dripping with your own wetness, he pulled you closer, pressing kisses to your temple and your shoulder, rocking you gently, pressing just enough to make you ache again, reminding you that he owned every inch of you, that every motion, every thrust, every moan was for him and his pleasure.
Harry rolled you onto your back, the weight of his body pressing you into the bed. His chest was hot against yours, his arms bracing on either side to keep you pinned, and your legs wrapped around his hips instinctively. You could feel the thickness of him pressing against your core again, your slickness coating him, making him groan.
He paused just long enough to line himself up with your dripping entrance, and with a groan, he slammed himself into you. The stretch made you cry out immediately, every nerve ending alive, until he buried himself to the hilt. His grip on your hips was brutal, holding you still as he thrust deep.
“Oh, fuck, you get so fucking tight after you cum, love,” he growled, leaning down, pressing his mouth to yours in a bruising kiss while he hammered his cock into you, balls slapping against your ass with every brutal stroke.
You arched, moaning, digging your nailsinto his back, pressing yourself into him as he fucked you like he wanted to imprint himself on every inch of your body.
Harry cupped your breasts roughly, engulfing the soft weight of them, curling his fingers tight as he twisted your stiff nipples, hard enough to sting. The pinch made you gasp and arch instinctively, pushing your tits further into his grip while he used the leverage to yank you down harder onto his cock.
“Come on, babe, show me how much you want me,” he growled, thrusting harder, angling his hips to hit all the right spots, stretching you, filling you completely, as he drove into you deeper than ever before.
“You feel so good,” he snarled, biting down on your collarbone. “So fucking wet… can’t get enough.”
His thrusts became a violent rhythm, deep and hard, driving into you mercilessly. The friction, the fullness, the way he fucked you like he’d been starved for this… it was unbearable in the best way.
“I’m gonna… I’m close…” he growled, and you mewled, pushing up against him, clenching around him as your walls fluttered, soaking him.
“Yes! Oh, yes! I want it so bad!” You pressed the heel of your feet against his lower back, urging him to get deeper inside you. “Make me yours… fill me up, Harry!”
And then he lost it. With a loud roar, he slammed inside you, snapping forward as he emptied himself, filling you with warm ropes of sticky white cum. Your body shook around him, milking him as he groaned, panting, shuddering with every last pulse.
He collapsed partially on top of you, resting his forehead against your shoulder, still buried inside you. You could feel the tremble of him, the heat of his cum flooding your walls, getting you soaked in your and his arousal.
“Mine,” he whispered, dragging his thumb over your cheeks, twitching his hips involuntarily as he let you feel every last pulse inside you. “All mine, love… nothing’s ever gonna take this away.”
You shivered beneath him, heart pounding, soaked, aching, completely spent, and utterly his.
On the other end of your phone was Kevin. He’d been drowning his sorrows in whiskey ever since he’d heard the first five minutes of his best friend fucking his daughter. He was already onto his fourth glass.
He wanted to go there and break Harry’s nose. He wanted to kick him in the balls until he was sure he couldn’t use his dick anymore. To tell him to get lost, to convince his father to fire him.
But what use would it be? Conrad wouldn’t give two shits about what he wanted. And what would he get in return if he hurt Harry? A daughter who resented him for not accepting the man she loved. He’d lose you, the only thing that made him feel proud, the one thing he’d done right in his life.
He’d also lose a friend, a man who’d been at his side since the day they first met, who’d saved his ass more than once.
So Kevin poured himself another drink and turned off his phone.
A/N: Heeey! This was based on an idea for a dbf Harry fic that someone sent me a while back, and I really wanted to write it, especially since it’s been a while since I last wrote for Harry.
This is just my interpretation of how that scenario might play out (everyone’s free to disagree, hehe). I personally see Kevin as having a bit of a pushover personality, he can’t control his son (who isn’t even really his son, lol), married one of his dad’s mistresses who doesn’t truly love him, so I don’t think he’d put up much of a fight if his best friend crossed a serious line involving his daughter. Conrad, on the other hand, I wasn’t as sure about, but from a business standpoint, making Harry an official Harrigan would secure his loyalty, especially with his fear of him aligning with Kat otherwise. But yeah, that’s just my take.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the smut😋
