the feeling of his whole body blanketing over yours during back shots because he’s so desperate to meet your lips over your shoulder not realising the angle is only pushing him even deeper
in my mind the space tin can man is as touch-starved as one can be and hasn’t had any experience kissing before, so when he has the opportunity to get skin to skin contact and kiss… din kinda blacks out.
ability speak, gone. those steady warrior’s hands, gone. in their place is a trembling, moaning, groaning and whimpering mess of a man who’s lovin’ feels like he’s about to plow you through the floor of the crest into outer space and the only thing he wants in the universe is to feel your lips on his.
(whoa!!! wheeeere did all of that even come from??)
This absolutely bizarre 'prehistoric-themed' custom kitchen, complete with a computer embedded in the cave-like walls and trompe l'oeil mural of the 'view' outside (likely Southern California, ~1990s)
Designed by Fred Rassouli of Rassouli & Associates
Scanned from 'Designer Kitchens - A Who's Who in Kitchen Design' (1995)
Watched the Mandalorian a few months ago when I had COVID so none of it really stuck with me so I'm watching it again. I have a type apparently and that type is single dads. Baby yoda is making me a lot less irrationally angry now that I'm watching it not high on Nyquil
Right, yeah, listen — I’ve been tryin’, I swear on me mum, tryin’ to behave like a respectable man, yeah? Post a bit of humour, talk about dogs, fuckin’ markets, phone calls with Thomas. Nice, lighthearted bollocks. But then, then my head wanders and it’s straight back on the filth, innit? I’m sat here imaginin’ you across my lap, knickers round your knees, cryin’ out every time me hand lands on that sweet arse. Or maybe I’m pressin’ you up against the wall, trousers barely shoved down far enough for me to take you the way you beg for in those late-night whispers.
Don’t matter where, don’t matter how — bed, chair, kitchen fuckin’ table — I’ll ruin you in all of ‘em, darlin’. And when you’re a mess, whimperin’ and shakin’, I’ll still be there in your ear tellin’ you to give me more, ‘cause I don’t stop when you think I will. Yeah. That’s me. That’s where me mind’s gone. Back on the bullshit. Filthy as ever. …you’re welcome.
Summary: You love Alfie. You love the sex. You’re a very satisfied woman. That doesn’t mean you haven’t fantasized about a threesome with Tommy Shelby. Not that Alfie would ever agree to something like that… right?
WC: 9.4k
Warning/Tags: smut, minors DNI, pwp, threesome (M/F/M), unprotected piv, fingering, oral (f&m!receiving), male/male handjob, pussy slapping, creampie, cum eating, cumshot, facial, dirty talk, power dynamics, period accurate homophobic comments (they’re just two men from the ’20s, okay?😭 there isn’t any real malice behind it).
In a million years you’d have expected to get that reaction from Alfie. After all, it was only a joke, right? A very inocent joke with no real meaning behind, or at least that's what youd been saying to yourself for months now.
You loved Alfie. God, you did. He was everything for you, there was no questioning it, no comparing him to anyone else. He was yours, the man of your life. And in the bedroom? Nothing was missing. The sex was good, more than good, it was raw, rough, passionate, dirty. He made you scream, made you cry, made you feel like the only woman in the world. He worshipped your body like it was holy and he ruined it like it was his to destroy. But lately… there was an itch.
That itch had a name, and it was Thomas Shelby. You’d seen him in the corridors of Alfie’s distillery after meetings, when deals were being made over whisky and cigarettes. Always in a tailored suit, always with that sharp jaw and cold stare, and every single time his eyes landed on you, your breath faltered. It wasn’t that you wanted to fuck Tommy. Not technically, at least. You didn’t want to be alone in the bedroom with him, you didn’t crave his touch the way you did Alfie’s, but the idea of both of them in the same room, with you in the middle, naked and trembling and ruined by two of the most dangerous men in England? That was something you couldn’t shake.
Today Alfie came home with the same sour look he always wore after a meeting with Tommy. His eyes looked tired, his hat was crooked, and he had his coat thrown over one arm like he’d fought a storm and lost.
You were already curled up on the settee in one of his old shirts, reading some book you hadn’t been paying much attention to anyway. “Go on then,” you said, lazily turning a page. “Did he insult your hat again?”
“No, love,” Alfie said, “but I ought to ’ave smacked him clean across that posh jaw for suggesting I lower my rum prices."
“Oh, the horror.” You finally looked up. “Tommy Shelby, asking for a discount. Can’t imagine it.”
Alfie grumbled something about stuck-up Brummie bastards and went about slamming glasses on the table, pouring two fingers of rum and tossing it back like it owed him money.
You waited a moment. “So,” you started, trying to keep your tone casual, but biting back a grin. “Did you two shake hands or just eye-fuck the whole meeting like usual?”
Alfie paused mid-pour of another glass. “What did you just say, love?”
You bit your lip. “Just saying, darling. I’ve seen how intense those meetings with you and Tommy get." You tilted your head and smirked. “You can’t blame a girl for wondering what it’d be like to be in the bedroom with two men like that."
He turned slowly to look at your face. “Oh,” he said, voice a little too calm. “You think you’re bloody funny, do you?”
You giggled. “Well. You and him and me in the same bed? I’d pay to see what that’d look like. Maybe I should just pass by next time you two have a meeting and let you two settle things with your cocks instead of your words.”
You didn’t expect him to say anything back. Usually he’d just lovingly call you a mad little tart. Maybe a comment like that would earn you a few spanks, not that you’d complain, you loved that.
But this time? Alfie looked at you like he was actually thinking about it, considering it.
“…You’re serious, aren’t you, my love?” he asked, slowly, like he was watching for cracks in your expression.
You laughed, trying to shake it off, making it all seem like a stupid joke. “No. Alfie, I was just—”
“No, you are serious,” he said, coming closer, drink still in hand. “You said it. Said the words right out your filthy mouth. So don’t backpedal now, darlin’.”
You sat up a bit straighter, you book was discarded at this point of the conversation.
“Alfie. You’re not actually considering—”
“Look,” he said, voice lower now, like he was negotiating. “If you’re dead set on bein’ fucked by two blokes at once, then I’d rather it be someone I know. Someone I trust not to, y’know, ruin you, right? Hurt you. And who better, right, than the fuckin’ devil I know best?”
“Tommy Shelby is who you trust to fuck me?”
He shrugged, like why not. “If he says yes, then at least I’ll know he’s got taste, don’t I?”
You stared at him. Was he really agreeing so nonchalantly to fulfill your biggest fantasy?
“Are you seriously saying you’d share me?”
Alfie cocked his head. “Now see, I never said share, did I, love? You’re still mine. Always.” He leaned closer, his knuckles brushing your knee. “I don’t like sharin’, right? Don’t fuckin’ do it. But the thought of seein’ you like that… All spread and messy, yeah, takin’ both of us like a good little girl… That’s not sharin’. That’s me lettin’ someone witness what I already own.”
Your thighs pressed together, and of course he fucking noticed.
You tried to match his tone, flippant, but your voice came out breathier than you liked. “You’d get jealous. You know you would. You can’t even stand when someone looks at me on the street for more the five seconds.”
“I’d be in control,” he said, eyes dark. “That’s different.”
You swallowed. "What would you even say to him?" You asked, trying to test the waters. “Dear Mr. Shelby, my missus and I would like to formally invite you to—” You laughed too hard to finish the sentence, but Alfie wasn’t laughing, not really, he looked like a man possessed by the thought of it now.
“I’d tell him the rules,” Alfie went on. “No kissin’ your mouth. That’s mine. No finishin’ in you. That’s mine, too. He’d do as he’s fuckin’ told or I’d break his nose before he got his trousers down.”
“Jesus Christ, Alfie.” You stared at him, perplexed. "You’re really thinking about it."
“Of course I bloody am!” he said innocently. “You started this, darlin’. Don’t go actin’ scandalized now.”
You were warm all over now. A little dizzy. What had been nothing but a dirty little fantasy you’ve kept hidden for months, now was a step closer to become reality.
“You’d like it, wouldn’t you?” he murmured. “Me watchin’ while you took him. Me talkin’ you through it. Tellin’ him what to do. Where to touch your pretty body.”
“Alfie—”
He stepped between your legs, hand around your jaw, thumb dragging down your lower lip. “You’d cum so fuckin’ hard,” he whispered, “with both our cocks in your mouth.”
You felt like your bones, your skin, every fiber of your being, slowly melting.
“But he doesn’t touch you unless I say. He doesn’t get a single fuckin’ sound out of you unless it’s with my permission. You understand?”
You nodded, feeling your heart throb in your throat, and the heat pool in your belly.
“Say it,” he ordered, his eyes were darker than you’d ever seen them.
“He doesn’t get me unless you allow it.”
“Fuckin’ right he doesn’t.”
He watched as Tommy arrived to his office with his coat damp from the light rain outside, boots stomping hard on the floor like he owned the place, the kind of noise that made Alfie grit his teeth.
“Alfie.”
“Tommy.”
A single word between them always carried the weight of ten. Tommy dropped into the chair across from him, coat draped lazily, cap resting on the table.
“Still broodin’, are ya?” Alfie said. “Tell me somethin’, mate, you ever tried smilin’? Just once, yeah? Might throw people off. Might stop ‘em thinkin’ you’re five seconds away from blowin’ the whole fuckin’ place every time you bloody blink.”
Tommy took a drag of his cigarette. “Wouldn’t be the first time I threaten you with blowin’ up this place."
They grinned at each other like enemies who’ve decided to stop trying to kill each other and just flirt with the idea of it. Their meeting went on as usual, they talked about schedules, shipments, a few threats in between. It was halfway through the second whiskey when Alfie leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowed thoughtfully, it was time to bring up the real reason of why he’d asked Tommy to come.
“…Can I ask you a question, mate?”
Tommy didn’t even look up. “You already are. Doesn’t mean I’ll answer it.”
Alfie licked his teeth. “Say you knew a woman, right? Sweet thing. Smarter than me and you combined. Big eyes. Wicked mouth. Real filthy imagination. And say—purely hypothetically, of course—that she had this little fantasy. A cravin’, you could call it.”
Tommy raised an eyebrow slowly. “What sort of cravin’?”
Alfie smirked. “The kind that involves you, mate. And me. And her. All at once. Preferably with fewer clothes and more tongue involved.”
There was a big pause, the room stayed completely silent for a couple of minutes, even Tommy’s cigarrete froze mid-air between his fingers.
"Are you talkin’ about your missus?" Tommy asked, his tone was as sharp and unreadable as ever.
“Not my missus, technically, under the eyes of God, right,” Alfie replied, scratching his beard with a thoughtful hum. “But spiritually? Yeah. She’s mine. My girl.”
Tommy exhaled, slowly. “This is a joke.”
“No mate, I’m deadly serious.”
“You’re proposin’ a threesome.”
“I’m proposin’ a carefully orchestrated evenin’ of indulgence, right? Supervised by me, of course.”
Tommy chuckled dryly, shaking his head. “Christ, Alfie.”
Alfie’s grin stretched wider. “Look, mate, you’re a handsome fucker, I’ll give you that, right?” he said, gesturing vaguely like it pained him to admit it. “And she’s a curious woman, my girl is. Always wantin’ to try things. And who the fuck am I to say no to her, eh? What my woman wants, my woman bloody gets. ‘Cause I’m an open-minded bastard, I am, generous even.”
Alfie sipped his drink before he continued. “But if anyone’s gonna touch her, it’ll be with my permission. On my terms. Because make no mistake, mate, she belongs to me. I’ll just be allowin’ you to get a taste of paradise."
Tommy’s jaw twitched. "And what are those terms?"
"You don’t kiss her, that’s off fuckin’ limits," Alfie growled. "Cummin’ inside her? Off fuckin’ limits as well. You fuckin’ listen to me, yeah? What I tell you to do, you do. If I tell you to stop, then you fuckin’ stop."
Tommy studied him, and nodded slowly. "And why do I get in return that’d make it worth my time?"
Alfie leaned in with a mad gleam in his eyes. "Oh mate... You’ll get the chance to touch heaven with your hands," He gave him a wicked grin. "And with your cock."
Thomas Shelby was coming over for dinner tonight. Alfie insisted on fresh bread and proper wine, you’d lit candles and sat the table with the good dishes. You stood in the mirror before he arrived, adjusting the soft red silk dress Alfie told you to wear, the one that clung to every curve of your body. Your nipples were already hard under it, no bra, of course, it was Alfie’s instructions. He wanted Tommy to eat dinner knowing what was coming for dessert.
He came up behind you, beard brushing your neck, hands steady on your waist. “Fuckin’ vision, you are,” he murmured. “He’s gonna walk in here and forget every line he rehearsed.”
You looked up at him in the mirror. “You nervous?”
He huffed a laugh. “No, love. I’m ready. You?”
You hesitated, then nodded, but it wasn’t exactly nerves you felt, it was heat, on your chest, on your belly, and in between your legs.
“Don’t worry, my love,” Alfie reassured you. “If you want him gone, at any point, right? You just say the word, and I’ll kick that wanker out the door.”
Dinner was a slow simmer of tension. Tommy was quieter than usual, but his eyes never left you. His fingers tapped the table, he watched the way you cut your food, the curve of your legs under the tablecloth. You felt his gaze on you like he was analyzing your every movement.
Dessert barely cleared the table before Alfie stood “That’s enough sugar,” he said gruffly. “C’mon.”
He led the both of you to the lounge, candles already lit there too, pillows laying on the floor, all of it was engineered for a night of pleasure between the three of you. And then Alfie sat down in the armchair like a king awaiting his performance.
You looked between them.
Alfie’s legs were spread, his pants already tented. Tommy stayed standing, sipping rum slowly, his face tried to remain unreadable, but the heat in his eyes betrayed him.
Alfie smirked. “Get on your knees, love.”
You obeyed, feeling the soft carpet under your legs. Your breath came quick. This was it, the moment you’ve awaited for months, now finally crawling out of your imagination and becoming real.
Alfie nodded toward Tommy. “Start with him.”
Your hands reached for Tommy’s belt with trembling fingers. He didn’t move to help you, he just watched as you unfastened the buckle, unzipped his trousers, and freed him from his briefs.
He was already hard. You hadn’t expected an astonishing size, not because you thought less of him, but because he was shorter than Alfie, who was broad and obscene in every way. But Tommy’s cock surprised you, it was significantly longer than you’d imagined, a little thinner than Alfie’s thick girth, but the length of it was truly impressive, and it was a gorgeous cock, just so pleasant to look at. Sleek and uncut, the skin gently pulled back just enough to reveal a dark pink, flushed tip, already glistening with the beginning of pre-cum.
You licked your lips and leaned forward, tongue flattening against the head of his cock. Slowly, teasingly, you took him into your mouth, inch by delicious inch, until your lips touched the base and your throat ached around him.
Tommy groaned. “Christ,” he murmured. “You’re fuckin’ perfect, aren’t you?”
You moaned around him, your pussy getting wetter by the second. It was such a big stretch on your mouth, but you welcomed it with eagerness to prove him how good you could be.
Alfie grunted from the chair. “That’s my girl, eh? Look at you. Mouth full of another man’s cock, and I’ve never seen you prettier.”
You kept sucking Tommy, hollowing your cheeks with each pull, the wet sounds were echoing obscenely in the room, and you just knew how hard Alfie’s cock had to be from just listening to those sounds, from watching you suck another cock.
Your fingers, slick with spit, worked the base of Tommy’s cock, stroking what your mouth couldn’t quite fit. He was breathing hard now, his abs were tightening, hips twitching every time you swirled your tongue under the crown. Tommy’s hand slid into your hair, letting his fingers tangle gently at the roots, he wasn’t rough, just trying to direct your movements.
“Good girl,” he whispered. “Takin’ me so deep. So good. You do this often for him?”
“She does,” Alfie rasped. “And she loves it. Loves makin’ a mess on her knees.”
“You lucky fucker.” Tommy whispered.
Alfie looked both amused and proud. His hands rested on his lap, watching his woman on her knees, with her mouth stuffed with Thomas Shelby’s cock. But it was still his game, his rules, he was in control.
“Alright, love, show him how you can deep-throat it, yeah?” Alfie commanded with that deep voice of his.
You didn’t hesitate, you shifted slightly on your knees and took Tommy’s cock deep, straight down your throat in one long, practiced motion, until your nose pressed into his pubic hair. You gagged once, hard, your throat tightening instinctively around the thick intrusion, but you didn’t pull away, you stayed there, swallowing around him with little wet chokes that only made Tommy groan louder.
“Fuckin’ Christ,” Tommy hissed, his hand gripping your hair tighter now, his restraint was crumbling bit by bit. “She’s…fuck…”
“Oh, I know, mate. Don’t hold back on her,” Alfie said with a chuckle. “She can take it. Ain’t that right, love?”
You moaned around the cock in your throat as an answer, the vibrations sending a visible shiver through Tommy’s legs. You kept sucking him like that, deepthroating again and again, pulling back only halfway before plunging him right back in, keeping your throat open, taking him to the root, gagging softly with each motion. There was so much drool spilling slowly from your lips, dripping messily onto your chin and down his shaft, making your strokes even slicker.
Your eyes flicked up to Tommy’s, glassy from the strain, mouth stretched wide around him, and the way his jaw clenched, like he was seeing the most sinful, beautiful thing in the world, made your cunt throb even harder.
You pulled back with a wet pop, eyes shining with tears. “Want you both.”
Alfie stood then, he unbuckled his trousers and let them fall. His cock was heavy and proud, the thickness of it was familiar to you.
“Come here, darlin’,” he said, voice lower now. “Now suck mine, yeah? Show him how greedy you can be.”
You turned your head and took Alfie into your mouth, moaning at the taste you knew so well, a little salty, a bit sweaty, and so undeniably him. The kind of taste that made your knees weak, that told your body who it belonged to. He cradled your head with both hands, his rough thumbs stroking your cheeks with surprising gentleness as he rocked his hips forward in slow rolls, letting you feel all of him.
“Good fuckin’ girl,” he groaned. “Jesus, I love this mouth. Could die with it around me.”
Behind you, Tommy knelt in silence, his eyes were still dark with hunger. You gasped around Alfie’s cock the moment Tommy’s hands slid up your thighs, you could feel the drag of his knuckles against your covered pussy. He reached under your dress, letting fingertips graze the hem of your lace underwear, teasing the spot in the middle where you’d already soaked the fabric all through.
“She’s soaked,” he said with rough voice. “Drippin’ already.”
“She’s always wet when she’s suckin’ cock,” Alfie growled. “Now watch her choke on me, yeah? Watch how she works for it.”
You whimpered, more spit trailed down your chin, drool glistening across Alfie’s cock as he began to fuck your mouth with purpose. His grip in your hair tightened, forcing your head still while his hips rocked fast and deep, the thick length of him pushing down your throat over and over again until you were choking on it, gasping for air around him, nose wet, eyes glassy.
“Tha’s it, darlin’,” Alfie growled through his teeth. “Take it. Fuckin’ take all of it.”
Your hips suddenly jolted when Tommy dragged your soaked underwear down your thighs, the cold air hitting your slick heat. Tommy glanced up, his eyes meeting Alfie’s, silently asking him for permission.
“Go on,” Alfie said, giving him that nod. “She can take more. Can’t you, pet?”
You moaned, the sound was desperate around Alfie’s cock, and that was all the answer Tommy needed. He pressed two long fingers into your cunt, sinking in slowly but deeply, curling them just right, and fuck, he was so skilled, as if he had a map of your body.
“Fuck,” you gasped, pulling off Alfie for a breath. “Tommy—”
“Fuck, she’s tight,” Tommy muttered under his breath.
Alfie let out a harsh laugh, his fingers digging into your hair. “Yeah, mate. Tell me somethin’ I don’t know.”
You sucked Alfie again, sloppier and faster now, sobbing on his cock as Tommy’s fingers picked up rhythm. The squelch of your soaked cunt echoed through the room, mixing with the sound of your throat choking on Alfie’s cock. Tears welled in the corners of your eyes from how deep Alfie was fucking your mouth, but you didn’t let that stop you, you kept going even when Tommy’s fingers worked faster, merciless, hitting your g-spot over and over, until your thighs trembled and your knees nearly buckled.
“Enough,” Alfie growled. “Get her on the couch. Time for the main event.”
You barely remembered being carried by Tommy to the couch. You were stretched out there, open, for their taking. Your thighs were still trembling, you watched them both rise above you like devils. Alfie was already stroking himself, watching you with that possessive, starved look, the kind that said: You’re mine, mine, mine no matter who else touched you tonight.
Tommy stood beside him. “Who gets her first?” He asked, low.
“I fuckin’ do.” Alfie bared his teeth in a grin. “You fuckin’ watch and learn, Shelby.”
He leaned down, crashing his lips against yours in a hungry kiss. “On your knees, darlin’,” he rasped into your mouth, “Want him at your lips while I’m buried deep in that sweet fuckin’ cunt of yours.”
You obeyed, scrambling to your knees on the couch. Alfie’s large hands seized your hips, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as he spread you wide, exposing your dripping, swollen folds to his eyes. He knelt behind you, the blunt, heavy head of his cock nudging against your soaked entrance, teasing for a moment before he guided himself in with one fast thrust, claiming you inch by torturous inch.
“Fuck, Alfie—!” you cried, as the sheer size of him stretched you open, your slick walls burning with the delicious ache.
“That’s it, darlin’,” he growled, his hips rolling to sink even deeper. “Nice an’ loud. Let him hear how you scream when you’re split open on my cock.”
The stretch was overwhelming, your spine arching sharply as your mouth fell open in a silent gasp. He sank deeper, filling every inch of your pulsing cunt until your ass pressed flush against his hips, his coarse hair brushing your skin.
“Fuckin’ hell,” he grunted. He’d never get tired of your tight cunt, of the way it greedily gripped him, how it always molded perfectly to his thick cock, milking him with every twitch. “Always so fuckin’ tight for me, my woman, like you were made to take me.”
Tommy stepped in front of you, his cock was still slick with your spit from earlier. He cupped your chin, but his eyes moved to Alfie. “She always make those sounds for you?”
Alfie groaned, starting to move in and out of you. “Wait ‘til she’s got your cock back in her mouth, she’ll purr.”
You parted your lips, desperate to feel the thick stretch of his cock again. Your tongue was already lolling out. Tommy didn’t hesitate, he slid himself into your waiting mouth, hissing at the contact. His hand cradled your cheek, as he slowly fed his throbbing cock past your lips.
“Tell him, love,” Alfie ordered you. He wanted Tommy to know how good he could fuck his girl. “Tell him how good I feel.”
You pulled off Tommy’s cock with a wet gasp. “He’s—fuck—he’s so deep, Tommy. He knows how to hit it. Fills me just right.” Your voice broke on a moan as Alfie slammed into you again, your whole body jerking forward with the force of his thrusts.
Tommy’s jaw clenched, it was clear that Alfie knew how to hit every spot inside you to make you feel good, and he was getting impatient already to feel your tight hole squeeze him. You looked so irresistible being fucked into next week while still trying to focus on sucking his cock. Before he could say a word, you didn’t let another second pass, you leaned in and took him back into your mouth. You were caught between them, your body was trembling, feeling too much, Alfie’s thick cock pounding into your cunt from behind in powerful thrusts, making your tits bounce with every slap of skin on skin, while Tommy’s cock stretched your mouth, hitting the back of your throat with each roll of his hips.
“Take it like a fuckin’ good girl. Yeah? Show him what I taught you. Show him who owns this pretty little cunt.”
Tommy’s voice was softer than Alfie’s. “Look at you,” his free hand cupped your breast, his fingers rolling your nipple between them. “So beautiful like this. Full of cock and still wantin’ more, eh?”
Your muffled whimper vibrated against Tommy’s cock. He pulled out slowly, dragging his length across your tongue, leaving your lips glossy with spit. His thumb grazed over them, smearing the slick mess across your pout.
You cried out as Alfie’s thrusts turned merciless, his hips were slamming into you with a punishing rhythm. Each brutal stroke stretched your abused, cunt to its limits, the slick burn of him was filling you so completely you could barely stand it. “God—Alfie—” you gasped, feeling how your back responded, your back arching like a cat in heat, your ass pushing back against him in need.
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he panted. “Too fuckin’ much, ain’t it? You’re already so close. That greedy little cunt’s flutterin’ ‘round my cock like it’s beggin’ for me to ruin it.”
Your body quaked as your climax tore through you, the pleasure crashing over every nerve, leaving you sobbing. Alfie’s grip on your hips tightened, and with one final thrust, he came. He spilled thick, and hot ropes of cum deep inside your pulsing core. As he slid out, the wet sound of his retreat filled the air. His creamy release seeped from your wrecked cunt, lazy white trails dripping down your trembling thighs, pooling messily onto the couch beneath you.
“Your turn,” Alfie rasped with satisfaction. He guided you down, easing you onto your back on the couch. Your legs fell open, your thighs still glistening with Alfie’s release, it was an invitation for Tommy to claim you next.
Tommy knelt between your spread legs, and he gripped himself, stroking once, and twice, before lining up at your dripping entrance. He took his time, he was torturously slow. The blunt head of his cock nudging against your swollen folds, and with a hiss, he pushed inside, inch by agonizing inch, stretching you open in a way that made your back arch off the couch.
You cried out, you were still pulsing from Alfie’s thick cum coating your walls, your clit throbbing from the climax that had shattered you moments before. Tommy’s cock was a different beast, hitting angles that made your nerves scream, your over-sensitive cunt was already clenching around him, greedy for more despite the ache.
“Fuck—oh fuck,” Tommy growled under his breath, as he sank deeper into you. “She’s so fucking tight, Alfie. So full of your cum.” His hips snapped forward, finding a deep rhythm, his hands gripping your thighs to keep you spread wide for him.
Every time Tommy pulled out, his cock glistened coated in your slick and Alfie’s creamy cum, the mixture was obscene and so fucking filthy it made his cock twitch harder with every thrust. He groaned as he watched the mess slick down your inner thighs and cling to your folds before he shoved himself back in again.
The stretch felt new, Alfie’s cum was making it all slippery, letting Tommy glide in with a ruthless pace. His thrusts were controlled, but every one hit like a punishment, it was so different from Alfie’s usual rhythm, which was messier and uncoordinated. Alfie fucked like a mad beast, Tommy fucked like a man on a mission.
“Fuckin’ filthy mess,” Tommy snarled, one hand digging into your hip, his other hand came down with a sharp smack against your clit, the pain and sting ripped a cry from your throat. “So fuckin’ full. Can’t believe he just left you drippin’ for me like this.”
He struck your clit again, his slap was harder this time, it echoed in the air as your hips bucked involuntarily. Tommy’s lips curled into a grin, and another brutal smack landed, your swollen, and reddened clit was pulsing under the assault of his hands, it was growing puffier, practically begging for more despite the sting. He didn’t stop, another cruel slap followed the last, then one more, each hit made a fresh gush of your arousal mix with Alfie’s seed.
“Didn’t tell me this one loves bein’ punished,” Tommy’s eyes flicked to Alfie with amusement, his hand hovered over your throbbing clit as if daring you to beg for another slap.
“Filthy thing can’t resist a good spanking,” Alfie replied. He was beside you now, one knee on the couch, his hand was already guiding your face toward him. His cock was hard again, the veins bloated and glistening with the remnants of both your juices and his release. He couldn’t help it, watching you like this… so used, dripping his cum, and still being fucked by another man, it was flipping something primal inside him. It was his girl being ruined, and it made him feral.
He gripped his thick cock tightly by the shaft, and brought the swollen tip down hard against your cheek, the smack made it sting. He dragged it slowly along your cheek again and again, painting warm trails of pre-cum across your face.
“C’mon, love,” he growled. “Open that pretty mouth and suck me proper while he fucks you full. Don’t you dare get lazy.”
Slowly, he rubbed the head all over your lips, teasing you as he pressed it repeatedly against your mouth, demanding attention without words. You opened your mouth, and Alfie groaned when your lips wrapped around him once more. His hand tangled tighter in your hair, guiding your movements.
Above you, Tommy’s thrusts grew brutal, each one was heavier. He let out a grunt and shifted his grip. His hands found your thighs, yanking them up and folding your legs against your chest, bending your body in half until you were splayed open at his mercy. The new angle drove his long cock deeper, splitting you open with strokes that made you cry, your overworked cunt was clenching around him in desperate surrender.
“Fuck—Tommy—God, don’t you fucking stop, please,” you sobbed. He was fucking you so good, pounding into your dripping and cum-soaked core with ferocity. You could barely process that Alfie had just fucked you senseless, and now Tommy was ruining you just as thoroughly.
Your entire body trembled violently, this new position was forcing Tommy’s cock to slam into that sensitive spot inside you, each thrust was sending shockwaves of both pleasure and pain through your core. You cried out around Alfie’s cock, there was drool spilling down your chin as you struggled to keep sucking.
“She’s clenchin’ so fuckin’ tight,” Tommy murmured. “Fuck, she loves this.”
“’Course she does,” Alfie’s hips kept rocking, forcing his cock deeper into your throat with every thrust. “She’s our filthy little whore tonight, ain’t you, love? Takin’ us both like you were made for it.”
You moaned around his shaft, the vibration pulling groans from both men.
“Fuck, you feel how hard you’re squeezin’ my cock?” Tommy’s thrusts were growing erratic. “Fuckin’ hell, you’re gonna milk me dry. You close, yeah? ‘Cause I’m—fuck—I’m right there—”
Tommy’s fingers expertly found your clit, he drew fast circles that were methodical and practiced, like he knew exactly how to pull an orgasm from your body with the least amount of effort. You barely had time to process it, to whimper his name, before your cunt clamped down around him, spasming hard as the climax took over you.
Alfie’s eyes burned with hunger, fixed on your face as your lips parted in a desperate cry, your throat clenching tight around his throbbing cock. It was too much… your trembling body, your muffled sobs vibrating against him. With a groan, he came, and thick, hot ropes of cum flooded your mouth, coating your tongue. You swallowed instinctively, choking slightly as you struggled to take every drop, still breathless and shaking, trying to come down from your high.
“Take it—yeah, take it all like a good fuckin’ girl—” he growled, his eyes were wild.
The sight of you gulping down Alfie’s release while your ruined cunt clamped down around him, pushed Tommy past his limit. “Fuck, fuck—Jesus fuckin’ Christ—” he snarled. He wanted nothing more than to bury himself deep and pump you full of his own cum, to mark you inside and out, but he knew Alfie’s jealousy would end with a bullet in his skull.
He pulled out just in time, his fist wrapping tight around his pulsing cock as his orgasm tore through him. Tommy came with force, and his hot, pearly cum spurting in forceful arcs, splattering across your body, ropes of it painting your lower stomach, your thighs, and your flushed pussy, already swollen and glistening from being used, and fucked raw by two men. You were completely exhausted, and both men looked at you like you were some divine, ruined goddess laid bare before them.
The mood was different tonight. It didn’ feel as experimental as that first time the three of you shared last week. Now it felt more familiar, like you had finally come to accept what this was, not just a one-time thing, but something that could turn into a routine.
You were kneeled before them, their trousers undone, their beautiful cocks already out, both of them hard and waiting for your mouth to act. Alfie was on your left and Tommy on your right. You started with Alfie, running your tongue up the underside of his shaft, savoring the salty flavor of his dick.
Tommy’s eyes went darker as he watched you move toward him, your mouth already parted inviting him to slide in. You reached for him with one hand, spitting into your palm with ease, then wrapped your fingers around the base of his cock.
“Fuckin’ hell, girl…” he muttered, but you were already leaning in, sinking your mouth down on him, the stretch making your eyes water.
You made it messy on purpose, obscene, filthy, exactly how they both liked it. Switching between them with wet, greedy slucks, strings of spit and pre-cum stretching between your lips and their cocks as you moved from one to the other.
You flattened your tongue against Alfie’s tip, licking a broad stripe before swallowing him halfway, your cheeks hollowing as you sucked him deep, your hand working Tommy so his cock wouldn’t feel left out. Then you pulled off with a pop, spit running down your chin, and turned toward Tommy, running your tongue over the head like you were tasting something glorious. “Mmm… still sweet.” you teased with a smile before sucking him in slowly, your lips stretched wide, your eyes fluttering shut, you caught Alfie’s cock in your hand, slick with your spit, and pumped it slow while your mouth focused on Tommy’s.
You could feel the tension sparking between them, not just for you, but between each other. The way their eyes would flick to one another, how Alfie’s jaw clenched just a little tighter every time you moaned around Tommy, how Tommy’s breathing hitched whenever Alfie let out a filthy groan when it was his cock in your mouth.
You pulled off them both slowly, strings of spit and pre-cum, bridging from one cock to the other. You sat back on your heels, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, and looked up at them with a grin so devilish it made both men pause.“You two ever think about kissing?”
Both of them stiffened. Alfie was the first to speak. “What did you say?”
“You know,” you purred, one hand still stroking each of them. “Kissing. Each other.”
Tommy scoffed, looking away sharply. “That’s not—fuckin’—don’t be daft.”
Alfie made a face. “That’s a fuckin’ poofter thing, innit?”
You raised an eyebrow. “Oh please, you’re both happy to share my mouth. Share my cunt. Cum on me together. But your lips can’t touch?”
Neither answered, you leaned in closer, licking a line up Alfie’s cock again, then twisting to tongue the head of Tommy’s. “Are you scared, boys?”
Alfie glared. “Don’t push it, love.”
You smirked. “Come on, why not?”
Tommy shifted. “It’s not done.”
You giggled. “Well. I’m not asking the rest of society to join. I’m asking you two.” You dropped your voice to a whisper. “I want to see it. My men. Kissing. Cocks hard, lips together.”
They still didn’t move, you could tell the idea was slowly sinking in their minds, but both of them were too afraid to do something about it, too full of prejudices to take that first step. So you did, you stood up on your feet and reached for them both, your hands on their stiff necks, as you slowly pushed their faces together. At first there was resistance, as if their muscles were protesting. Alfie muttering “fuckin’ hell” under his breath. Tommy growling “Jesus Christ—”.
But then their mouths met. It was hesitant at first, a little clumsy. Two prideful men tasting unfamiliar territory, lips brushing each other as if it was the first time they ever kissed someone. But then something in it shifted, Alfie tilted his head, his lips parting slightly, Tommy leaned in with more certainty and their mouths moved with intention now.
Tommy’s hand came up, slow fingers brushing against the scruff of Alfie’s jaw as if testing the weight of it, the feel of another man. The moment his thumb ghosted over Alfie’s cheekbone, you saw how Alfie’s breath hitched, a sound so foreign from him it made your cunt throb. You could see their wet tongues intertwining as the kiss deepened, Alfie’s lips closed around Tommy’s tongue, sucking on it with deliberate pressure.
It was messy, raw, a clash of dominance and hunger. Watching the two most dangerous men in your life, maybe in the city, maybe in the fucking century, tangled up in each other because you’d asked them to, because they wanted to please you. And when you leaned up between them, and slipped your own lips into the mix, they both groaned. The kiss became three mouths moving together, it was all teeth and tongue fighting agaisnt each other. Alfie bit your bottom lip, Tommy licked into your mouth. Their hands came to your hair at the same time.
When you finally pulled back, all three of you were panting.
You grinned. “I want more.” They both raised an eyebrow. You looked at Tommy first. “I want you to touch Alfie.” Then your eyes moved to Alfie. “And I want you to touch him.”
Their expressions tightened at the same time, there was an edge of discomfort in the way they looked at you, you could see the flinch of pride, of masculinity. their internal protest was clear, because kissing was one thing, it was just lips, but touching each other’s cocks? That was a completely different one.
“Yeah, see now, darlin’,” Alfie started slowly, “I don’t know what sorta club you think you’re runnin’ here—”
“Don’t be shy,” you interrupted sweetly, reaching to cup both their cocks. “You let me fuck you both at the same time, but your hands won’t even brush?”
“I think you’re mistakin’ this for—.” Tommy said.
“I’m not,” you whispered. “I just want to watch.”
Their silence stretched, you sat back on your heels. “Please, touch each other.” No one moved, you rolled your eyes and tilted your head. “Fine. I’ll help.”
You reached for Alfie’s hand first, wrapping his thick, ringed fingers around Tommy’s cock, forcing the man to hold it, to feel the heat, the weight of it. Tommy let out a sharp hiss through his teeth, his hips twitching forward from the touch.
Alfie’s brows furrowed, but he didn’t pull away. He was breathing heavy, eyes flickering between your face and where his hand was stroking another man’s cock for the first time. Then you turned to Tommy, reached for his soft hand, and guided it to Alfie’s shaft, thick and flushed, already twitching in need. You placed Tommy’s palm around it, curling his fingers to hold it just right.
For a split second, both men seemed frozen, still processing what what’s happening. Then they started with testing strokes at first, watching their own hands greedily wrap around each other’s cocks, their knuckles brushing wetly against the other’s wrist, the slick sound of pre-cum coating their fingers with every motion. Neither spoke, their hests heaved, jaws clenched, shoulders tensed, and every pulse of blood made their cocks twitch harder, the veins were throbbing, and slick glistening along their shafts, leaking heavy beads of pre-cum that dripped onto their hands. Every subtle flick of their fingers drove them further on the edge of losing control.
“Look at that,” Alfie muttered, still working Tommy’s cock. “Pretty little thing. Smaller than mine, though.”
“Fuck off,” Tommy said through gritted teeth, but even then his hand didn’t stop moving. “You’re delusional.”
You giggled, sitting between them, awestruck, your thighs pressed together, slick and aching with want. You could feel the heat between their bodies as they jerked each other off in front of you.
A quiet groan still slipped out from Tommy’s mouth as Alfie’s big hand twisted near the tip, spreading that sticky slick over the head of his cock. Alfie noticed the way Tommy’s hips bucked slightly into his fist and gave him a crooked smirk, like he was silently mocking him for how quickly he was enjoying it.
“What, didn’t expect it to feel that good?” Alfie muttered under his breath.
Tommy didn’t answer. He just exhaled, letting all his focus go into the way his hand moved over Alfie’s cock. Each stroke was curling around the shaft with a precision that made it clear he knew exactly what he was doing.
“God, look at you two,” you whispered, nearly dizzy with how wet it was making you. “Your cocks are so fucking hard for each other… can’t believe how much you’re leaking.”
They kissed once, putting on a show for you, like neither of them wanted to admit how good this felt.
You licked your lips and moaned. “Fucking hell,” you whispered. “You like showing off for me?”
Tommy exhaled a ragged breath, his hand moving faster along Alfie’s length, his wrist twisting with each upward stroke. His other hand gripped Alfie’s thigh, his fingers digging in as if to ground himself. Alfie’s hand mirrored him now, moving quicker, each movement filled with urgency. His eyes flickered between Tommy’s heated face and your parted lips.
“Shit,” Tommy moaned.
Somehow, touching another cock felt different than touching his own, even if the technique was the same. The texture and the weight of it felt foreign and familiar all at once. He didn’t dislike it, quite the opposite. There was something obscene and erotic in the way Alfie’s rough fist worked him, and in the way his own hand matched the rhythm, stroking Alfie in return. And you, watching from below, looking like you could combust right there on the floor, pressing your thighs together, only made this whole scene dirtier.
“Feels good, don’t it?”
“…Yeah.”
Alfie chuckled. “Doesn’t mean you’re a pansy, mate. Just means you like someone else who knows what a cock likes.”
“I want it on my face,” you said breathlessly, crawling forward on your knees. “I want you both to cum on me. At the same time.”
They both groaned louder now, like they’d finally dropped every last ounce of control. No more hesitation or shame, just two desperate men, chasing their high with fists curled tight around each other’s cocks, panting like animals in heat. You knelt between their legs with your tongue stuck out obediently, eyes wide and glistening with anticipation, ready to take whatever they gave you.
“Fuck, you’re so filthy,” Alfie growled. “You like bein’ used like this, eh, darlin’?”
Tommy gasped. “Fuckin’ perfect, mouth open, ready to take it, Jesus—”
Tommy was the first to spill, ropes of hot cum shooting across your tongue, lips and cheeks, a low moan falling from his lips as his body shook through the release. Not even a second later, Alfie followed, with a guttural “Fuuuckin’ hell—” as his cock jerked in Tommy’s hand, his own release painting your mouth, your chin, and even your neck.
Their cum dripped and streaked across your face, mixing with each other’s. Alfie’s was thicker, white and creamy, clinging to your skin in decadent drops, while Tommy’s was more translucent, pearly and watery but warm, sliding easily across your jaw and down your chin.
You savored the taste of both of them, slightly different, but both intoxicating in their own way. You licked your lips deliberately, collecting what you could, and swallowed with a soft sigh. Above you, they kept stroking themselves, lazily now, chasing every last pulse of that high.
Their cum ran in slow streaks down your chin and cheeks, your hair was still a little matted where Alfie’s hand had grabbed too tight, but neither of them had moved to clean you, because they hadn’t softened, they were still not done, both their cocks were still standing proud.
You smirked, licking your lips again. “You’re both still hard?”
Alfie grunted, reaching down to stroke himself slowly. “Fuckin’ course I am. Look at you, love.”
Tommy’s hand went to your face, his thumb wiping a stripe of his own release from your cheek. “You gonna let us use you a little more?” he asked lowly.
You smiled, filthy and pleased. “Thought you’d never ask.”
Alfie didn’t wait, he reached down and hauled you up onto the bed like a rag doll, turned you over and laid you flat on your back. You braced yourself on your forearms as he grabbed your hips, spit in his hand, and smeared it over your hole.
“So fuckin’ wet,” he muttered. “Can feel how warm you are. God, you’re soaked. Did it make you that wet, havin’ us both cum on your pretty fuckin’ face?”
“Yes,” you breathed, arching your back against the mattress, you were in desperate need for some relief. “Please, Alfie—”
He slid in with one smooth, punishing stroke that buried himself to the hilt in your slick heat. Your breath caught, the depth of it making your body jolt and your walls flutter around the sudden, perfect intrusion. There was never teasing with Alfie, no slow build, just that raw need so typical of him, and his cock stretching you full until there was nowhere else to go.
“Oh God—Alfie.”
“Yeah, that’s it,” he rasped, already setting a deep and brutal rhythm, his hips slapping against yours with loud, wet sounds. “Can feel me deep inside, can’t you? That messy little hole just suckin’ me in like it needs me.”
Tommy moved beside you, kneeling by your side on the bed. His fingers found your clit with a featherlight touch at first, but the moment he heard that first little gasp fall from your lips, he picked up the pace, letting his fingers move faster with every second.
You dropped your head back against the pillow with a broken moan, the tension coiling so tightly in your belly it felt like your body might shatter apart from pleasure. Between Tommy’s touch and the stretch still pulsing between your thighs from Alfie’s cock hitting your cervix, you were already so close again.
Tommy leaned close to your ear. “Gonna help him make you cum, yeah?”
You whimpered and nodded. His fingers kept rubbing those steady circles over your clit, slick from the mess leaking out in creamy rings around Alfie’s cock. It was filthy, Tommy playing you like an instrument while Alfie fucked you like he was trying to mark your womb.
“Touchin’ her’s unreal, isn’t it?” Alfie panted. “She clenches when you rub her, yeah? God, I can feel it, fuck, she’s squeezin’ me like a fist—”
“Let’s make her cum, then,” Tommy murmured.
“Please! Fuck, I’m gonna—” You screamed, the pleasure taking over your body.
“Cum, then,” Alfie growled. “Let him feel how messy you get. Let me feel it when you break on my cock.”
Tommy pressed down on your clit with perfect precision, and Alfie thrusted into you in that devastating angle, making you scream. Your entire body locked up, your orgasm ripped through you with a force that blinded you for a second, all you could see was black.
And then Alfie followed, he shouted curses in Hebrew, his voice barely recognizable. His hands clamped down hard on your hips while his fingers dug into your skin as he thrusted once, twice, and you felt him pulse, his cock twitching deep inside your soaked cunt as he came hard, filling you with rope after rope, his spend so warm you could feel it coating your insides, leaking around him with each throb.
“Fuckin’ hell,” Alfie muttered. “That’s the best I’ve ever had you, love. Ever.”
You mumbled something unintelligible, you were so wrecked already that you couldn’t properly speak.
Tommy chuckled, brushing hair from your face. “You’re drippin’,” he said.
Alfie pulled out slowly, and you whimpered at the wet slide, at the mix of cum and fluids that started dripping down your thighs.
“Yeah, mate. She’s fuckin’ drippin’ with my cum,” Alfie said turned to Tommy with a lazy grin. “You wanna fuck her now? you clean her first. With your tongue.”
Tommy’s gaze snapped up, like something had clawed at his pride. You saw the hesitation, the flicker of resistance. Alfie had given him an order, and Tommy Shelby wasn’t the kind of man who took kindly to being told what to do. But then his eyes dropped again to you, your legs spread wider and your breath hitched at the thought of Tommy lapping on your used cunt.
Your eyes met his, your voice was soft and pleading: “Please.”
That broke him, Tommy crawled forward, his eyes never leaving your dripping cunt, his mouth already tasting it before he even touched you. Alfie leaned back on his elbows, spreading his thighs a little wider, like a king on his throne. “Go on, then,” he muttered pleased.
Tommy settled between your thighs and then he licked, his tongue lapped at your folds in slow, deliberate strokes, tasting and savoring you. He followed the path of Alfie’s cum as it slid out of you, he cleaned it from your inner thighs, from your overstimulated clit, from the soft, swollen lips of your pussy, already fluttering around nothing, clenched and trembling with the threat of another orgasm.
Alfie groaned. “Look at that, love,” he rasped. “He’s eatin’ my fuckin’ cum out of you like he’s starvin’.”
Tommy’s hand gripped your thighs, fingers bruising as he licked deeper, cleaning every last drop, his tongue dragging upward to flick your clit. Your hips jerked off the bed, you were soaked again, and not just from the mess, but from your juices starting to drip out of you from the sight and the feeling of Tommy’s tongue on you.
He pulled back only when your whimpers turned sharp. “She’s clean now,” he said hoarsely. “Ready.”
Alfie grinned and nodded. “Very well. You’ve earned her.”
Tommy began to position himself at your entrance, one hand on your hip, the other guiding his cock, but Alfie’s voice stopped him.
“Nah, nah.” He leaned forward. “Love, show our boy Tommy here how you ride cock.”
Tommy froze for a second, but then he leaned back flat against the mattress, letting you take control. You shifted to straddle his lap, reaching between your legs to grip his cock. He grabbed your waist as you lined him up, and without waiting another second you sank down slowly on his thick member, moaning as he filled you completely.
His head fell back, hands gripping your waist tighter. “Jesus Christ.”
You started to move, grinding down slowly on Tommy, rocking your hips in deep circles. His cock pressed so perfectly inside you, each movement got him groaning beneath you. Then Alfie came up behind you, his large hands sliding over your waist and pulling you back against him. His chest was hot against your back, and his beard scratchy as it dragged across your shoulder.
“That’s it, love.” Alfie’s mouth was hot against your ear. “Bounce on it. Just like that. Look at his face, poor fucker can’t believe how good it feels. Mouth hangin’ open like he’s seen God.”
You obeyed, instantly moving faster, bouncing and over every inch of him with a desperate rhythm. Your thighs burned from the effort, but you didn’t stop… you couldn’t, not with the way Tommy’s cock filled you so perfectly.
“Fuckin’ hell…” Tommy’s hands gripped your hips, helping you move when your own body struggled to maintain the rhythm.
“She’s a fuckin’ vision, isn’t she?” Alfie said behind you, his eyes were locked on the way his girl was bouncing on another man’s cock, and all because he told her to. “Ridin’ you like she was made for it. Like her cunt knows you.”
Tommy’s hands were everywhere, sliding down to squeeze your thighs, then cupping your ass, spreading you open as you rode him. He couldn’t take his eyes off from where your bodies met, watching your slick drip down around his cock.
Your tits bounced wildly with every movement, shining with sweat. You felt Alfie’s mouth closing around your nipple, and you cried out, your pace faltering for just a moment as the sudden jolt of pleasure lit you up from the inside. His lips were hot, his tongue swirled around the sensitive bud, and it was enough to make your back arch and your cunt clench hard around Tommy.
“Good fuckin’ girl,” Alfie growled. “Look at you, takin’ him so deep. Is he fillin’ you good, love?”
You nodded frantically, the words got lost somewhere in your throat. “Yes… yes, fuck, he feels so good, Alfie. He’s so good—”
Tommy groaned, his own hips thrusting up into you to meet your rhythm. “You’re perfect,” he breathed. “So fuckin’ tight.”
Alfie pinched your nipple hard between his fingers, just as his teeth sank into the other with a sharp bite. And your reaction had Tommy moaning from how tight your cunt gripped him.
“Nggghh, she’s squeezin’ me like a vice,” Tommy’s hands tightened on your hips to steady you.
“Come on,” Alfie ordered you. “Cum for both of us.”
You did, loudly. There was no holding it back, your orgasm hit you with electricity, making your pussy spasm around Tommy’s cock so hard he cursed under his breath. The sound of your cries echoed off the bedroom walls.
Tommy groaned, he was barely able to hold on. “Jesus fuck—she’s… she’s milkin’ me,” he panted. “Shit… I’m gonna—”
Alfie snapped: “You pull the fuck out now, mate.”
Tommy growled like it physically hurt him to pull out, but he obeyed. His hands gripped your hips with bruising desperation, yanking you off him just in time as he crawled over your body.
“Fuck—fuck—” he panted, his cock twitching furiously in his hand as he stroked himself fast. His cum spilled out in warm ropes across your belly, your thighs, even streaking the underside of your tits.
He collapsed forward onto his chest with a shaky groan, his body still still trembling with the aftershocks of the intense pleasure. His cheek pressed against your thigh as his breathing slowed. Alfie leaned down beside you, one thick arm braced beside your head as he used the other to gently brush the sweaty strands of hair from your temple. The three of you stayed like that, a mess of tangled limbs and sweaty bodies, and you couldn’t help but think, as your eyes closed, that there wasn’t another place in the world you’d ever choose to be.
Join the tag list
A/N: Now that’s what I call 9k words of pure porn. I think this one officially takes the throne as the filthiest thing I’ve ever written😮💨 I hope it scratched the itch for everyone who wanted to see that Alfie and Tommy threesome, cause I’ve been dying to write it!!
I’m definitely not opposed to writing a second part if you enjoyed this first one! Suggestions are very much welcomed, I’d love to hear what you’d like to see next. (Double penetration maybe? More Alfie and Tommy action?)
As always, your support means the world. Thank you so much for reading🩷🫶🏻
[SUMMARY: In the heat of defending you, Joel’s strength turned against you instead. The injury was an accident, but the guilt threatens to break him.]
Angst
The first thing Joel heard was your name.
He’d been walking past the courtyard at Jackson, half-thinking about nothing, when the voices reachrd him. A couple men leaning against the fence, muttering, laughing low in their throats. He wasn’t listening at first—until one of them said your name followed by words that made his stomach clench.
“That woman always got something to say, hell maybe she’s in need for a little spankin’” the men laughed.
Joel stopped dead in his tracks.
“That old boyfriend of hers probably isn’t giving her what she needs” he shrugged.
The men didn’t notice him at first, kept laughing, voices rough, careless. Joel’s hands balled into fists. He told himself to walk away, to be smart about it. But then he heard one of them describe exactly what he’d like to do to you—mocking, filthy—and that was it.
Joel’s body moved before his mind caught up.
He was on the man in a heartbeat, shoving him back against the fence so hard it rattled. “Say that shit again,” Joel snarled, voice like gravel ground against metal. “Go on.”
The man smirked, even as Joel’s forearm pressed into his chest. “What, you jealous old man? Everybody knows—”
The words cut off with Joel’s fist slamming into his jaw. The man staggered but came back swinging, and suddenly it was a fight—raw, messy, fists and blood and rage spilling into the open.
From across the yard, you saw it.
“Joel!” you shouted, breaking into a run. By the time you reached them, both men were heaving, sweat and anger written all over their faces. Joel had him pinned again, teeth bared like a wolf about to rip its prey apart.
You didn’t think—you just reached out, grabbed Joel’s shoulder, tried to pull him back.
He didn’t know it was you.
With a roar, Joel spun, grabbing the hand on him, and shoved hard. You hit the wall behind you with a crack that knocked the breath from your lungs.
The sound you made—sharp, startled, pained, cutthrough the haze like a gunshot.
Joel froze.
His eyes locked on you, wide, horrified, as you stood pinned against the wall, one hand clutching your side where it had struck. Fear flickered across your face—fear of him—and Joel felt the ground drop out from under him.
“Jesus. Baby-“ His voice broke on the word, rough and desperate. His hands hovered in the air like he was afraid to touch you, afraid of what he’d just done. “I didn’t—I thought—”
Behind him, the other man laughed, spitting blood onto the dirt. “Look at you. Big protector, huh? Can’t even tell when it’s your own woman you’re hurtin’.”
Joel didn’t move. Couldn’t. The taunts barely reached him over the sound of your uneven breathing, the way your eyes wouldn’t leave his face. Not with trust. Not with love. With something brittle, something broken.
And it gutted him.
Joel’s hand lifted halfway, trembling with the urge to touch you, to check you, to beg you to tell him you were all right.
“Baby—”
But the second his fingers reached toward you, you flinched. A sharp recoil, your body tightening against the wall like you expected another blow.
It stopped him cold.
He stumbled back a step as if you’d shoved him yourself, his chest caving in at the sight.
“What the hell’s goin’ on here?” Tommy’s voice snapped through the tension, boots pounding as he came running across the yard. He skidded to a halt, eyes darting from the bloodied man still clutching his jaw, to you pressed against the wall, to Joel—rigid, pale, silent.
The bastard Joel had fought gave a wet laugh, spitting another mouthful of blood onto the dirt. “Your big brother lost his mind. Went off on me, then threw his own woman into the wall. Real piece’a work you got here, Tommy.”
Joel’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t say a word. He couldn’t. The truth was worse than the taunt.
Tommy’s gaze snapped to you then, sharp, worried. He caught the wayyour arm was wrapped protectively around your ribs, the shallow, uneven rise of your chest. “You hurt?” he asked quickly, voice low but urgent.
You nodded, just barely.
Joel took a step forward on instinct, but Tommy moved instantly, sliding between the two of you like a shield. His hand came up, flat against Joel’s chest, halting him in place.
“I’ll take her,” Tommy said firmly, already angling his body to usher you away. “Get her checked out.” He looked back at his brother and gave him a reassuring nod to let him know he knew it wasn’t his fault. Judging by the tension still around them, the men just feet away taunting the situation, he figured it was best for Joel to leave.
Joel’s throat worked, but the words wouldn’t come. His hands flexed uselessly at his sides, every part of him screaming to fix this, to hold you, to explain. Finally, he forced something out—rough, hoarse.
“It was an accident.”
The words sounded hollow even to him. You knew it was an accident, it happened so quickly. You knew Joel would never do such a thing purposely, still, you had never seen that look in his eyes.
“I know” Tommy assured him, he of all people knew his brother would never hurt you.
“Just let me make sure she’s alright. You can come by after”
Joel stood silent, watching as Tommy guided you away. The sight of your body leaning slightly to the side, your arm braced against your ribs, burned itself into his vision.
The man he’d fought muttered another curse, another taunt, but Joel didn’t hear it. He was staring at you, and at the space growing between you, feeling something inside him splinter.
Joel slowly walked away from the group of men, he didn’t have fight left in him.
~~
Fractured ribs.
That’s how much force he had thrown you to the wall, that you fractured your ribs.
Your waist now wrapped up tightly, you could still feel an ache with each breath even with the pain medication.
“I’ve never seen him like that, Tommy. It didn’t look like my Joel” his brother stood at the foot of your bed with his hands on his hips. He knew exactly the look you were talking about.
“I know he didn’t mean to, it’s just…” you shook your head staring off into space, the thought of his eyes, dark, lost creeping into your mind.
“I’m sure he’s givin’ himself a good beatin’ about it. You know how Joel is about you.” You stood quiet with a slight nod.
“I’m not mad at him…I’m just-for second I thought he was going to do more. Until he realized it was me and then there he was again. But for just that split second I was terrified” Tommy didn’t speak, just a look of understanding. He’d seen his brother lost in that anger more times than he could count.
“You can tell him to come in” Tommy looked up somewhat surprised. You knew Joel was standing out there whether you wanted to see him or not, you knew he’d wait close by.
~~
Tommy walked out to find Joel a few feet away, his eyes wide filled with worry as he walked towards him.
“She alright?” Joel asked low.
“She’s gonna be fine, she just-“ Tommy looked away, hesitating to tell his brother the damage he’d accidentally done to the woman he loves.
“Tell me” Joel’s eyes darkened.
“What I do”
“Her ribs are fractured” Joel felt a punch to his gut. His eyes welling up with tears.
“Jesus Christ-“ he whispered turning towards the wall, disgusted with himself. How the hell could he have done this.
“You didn’t know it was her alright, it was an accident. She knows that-“
“Did you see the way she was lookin’ at me” Joel whispered in between heavy breaths, his eyes on his brother. Tommy knew how guilty Joel felt, his brother constantly protecting you from anyone or anything to be the one to cause you this harm.
“She wants to see you” Joel froze almost in disbelief, almost as if he wasn’t ready to see you. He looked at your door then back at his brother who gave him an encouraging look and a hard tap on the shoulder.
“Go on brother.”
~~
Joel lingered at the doorway, the sight of you in pain on the bed nearly forcing his gaze to drop. He didn’t move, caught somewhere between fear and helplessness, like a young boy unsure of how to navigate a world he couldn’t control. You could see it in him the moment you laid eyes on him, the guilt, the shame, he felt it all.
“You can come closer,Joel” he looked almost surprised by your request. Still hesitant, as if any movement he made might hurt you.
He walked slowly towards you, his hands in front of him, he stopped a few feet away.
“Closer” you spoke softly. He did as you asked until he was right beside you. The closer he got, the more intense his emotions became till he couldn’t hold it in.
“Baby-“ he shook his head, eyes wide with tears.
“I swear, I swear if I knew it was you-“
“I know” you whispered softly, your hand reaching for his.
His hand trembled as it brushed against yours, fingers hesitating before finally intertwining.
“I didn’t mean… I never…” His voice cracked, swallowed by the weight of what he’d done. He leaned down slightly feeling you pull him in, close enough that the heat from his forehead almost touched yours, but not daring to rest against you.
“It was an accident, Joel,” you whispered, pressing your hand lightly against his arm. “I know it wasn’t on purpose. I just never seen you so angry like that…” Your voice faltered for a moment, but you gave a small, reassuring squeeze. “…you didn’t mean what you did.”
He swallowed hard, blinking rapidly, as if trying to hold back everything he wanted to say. Finally, he let out a long, shaky sigh. “I should’ve been… I should’ve—”
You tightened your grip, stopping him. “Joel, look at me,” you said softly, lifting his chin with your fingers. “I’ll be fine, I’m fine” you assured him but he could see the discomfort you felt. Every ache you felt because of him.
His eyes searched yours, slowly, as if it took every ounce of strength, he lowered his forehead to rest against yours. “God… I’m so sorry,” he whispered.
You pressed a kiss to the side of his face and murmured, “I know. And it’s okay. Just… stay with me.”
He nodded against you, letting the weight of his regret ease slightly as he wrapped his arms around you, careful and tentative, as though holding you might somehow undo the accident. “I… I won’t let anything happen to you again,” he promised, voice low but determined.
Warnings: Irritation, insults, arguing, drinking, sex while tipsy, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, dirty talk, unprotected sex, cock riding, body insecurities, leaving on a bad note, unexpected pregnancy, relationships, Harry drunk - like really drunk, revelations of pregnancy, mentions of moving in together, plans, baby moon, growing feelings, sex, semi public sex, confessions of love, mentions of fertility struggles.
Comments: You and Harry drive each other insane. Grating on each other's nerves until one night it turns into something else. Teaching you both that there is a such a fine line between love and hate.
Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers
**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.
|| MasterList || Harry Castillo MasterList ||
Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.
You. Harry lets out a frustrated sigh as he looks at his schedule for the day. He could go the rest of his life without dealing with you. It’s a damn shame that such a brilliant mind, a fantastic instinct for how the markets will move, is linked to such a disagreeable woman. “Karly…” he huffs out, calling to his executive assistant. “Why the hell am I meeting with her this morning?” He taps the schedule impatiently. “I wanted to have a good day.”
Karly suppresses her smirk as she sees how annoyed he is at your appearance on his schedule. “She wants to discuss the merger for Anderson Dental.” She says and Harry sighs, knowing it’s needed for them both to discuss what’s best for their clients but he wishes it could be done over the phone.
****
“I didn’t know you redecorated your office, Castillo. It’s nice. A little cold but I guess that’s on brand for you.” You smirk as you walk into his private office after Karly opened the door for you. She asks if you want a coffee and you grin, “I’ll take an espresso. I assume you have something better than Folgers in here.” You say as you take a seat in front of Harry who is standing with his hand outstretched but you forgo shaking his hand to offer him a wicked grin.
Niceties aren't something that you observe. Not with him. He blows out a sigh and pulls his hand back. Feeling foolish for offering and clears his throat. “What do you want to talk about?” He motions to a chair in front of his desk, taking his own seat before you even attempt to sit down.
You click your tongue as you set your purse down while settling in the leather chair, "you know what I'm here to discuss. The merger. I don't think your client has enough capital for the deal. We need more assets. More collateral for security." You say, noticing how his jaw clenches tighter with every word you say.
Harry shakes his head. “That's ridiculous. The deal is two days away from being finalized and you want more collateral, now?” He leans back in his chair and studies you. “What do you really want?”
You tilt your head, "my client is nervous. She has invested years into building the practice, one of the best in Manhattan- and she doesn't want to risk her life's work without it being worth it. She needs more; otherwise, the deal is off." You cross your legs, eyebrow raised as you stare at him.
His eyes had dipped down to your legs when you crossed them. He knows you did it on purpose. It’s a damn shame that you had such nice legs. “Your client is about to get $100 million dollars for her business.” Harry snorts. “She can sit back and rest.” You don’t react and he rocks his jaw. “Two percent of the deal in an escrow account.” He offers. “Payable to your client in the event of the deal going south. Which it’s not.”
You open your mouth to respond as Karly opens the door, bringing in your espresso and she sets Harry's double espresso down on his desk for him, knowing he will likely need it. Later, he will likely ask for a scotch to get rid of his annoyance at your presence. "Thank you." You smile at her and she nods, backing out of the room. "Where were we?" You ask yourself more than him, "oh yes. She wants ten percent in the account. Otherwise she walks. We have other offers from other companies. She has options but she went with your client because he wants to preserve her vision. Her vision can be changed for the right price though, Harry." You raise your eyebrows, leaning forward to pick up the small cup of coffee.
He glares at you for a moment before he shrugs and reaches for the cup to take a sip. “Done.” You smirk but he’s not done. “As long as she signs an agreement that if she backs out of the deal, she doesn’t get a cent and we sue her for fraudulent dealings.” He shrugs slightly. “This close to signing, this feels more like a shakedown than nerves.”
You tilt your head at home, "she gets one percent and no lawsuit. Otherwise she will panic and walk anyway without a deal being done. Come on, Castillo. She won't walk if she gets this deal. It's as good as done. It's signing on Friday. That's a few days." You reason, shifting to set your cup down, leaning towards him. "Don't be such a stick in the mud. I know you like a little risk in your deals." You smirk, "keeps you young."
“One percent.” Harry agrees. Hell, it’s worth a million dollars just to get you out of his office. He watches as you nod, not opening your mouth for any kind of pithy comeback. “You just enjoy the turmoil.” He observes, annoyed that it impresses him when it should piss him off. There was no need for this. You know that if his clients didn’t have the capital, Harry wouldn’t broker the deal.
"Maybe." You chuckle, "but you love it too. You're bored, right? Too many clients trust you, deals roll in and what? There's no chase. You're bored. Just towing the line to keep the money coming in. You know you love it when I throw in a monkey wrench."
“I love when you leave me alone.” Harry scoffs, enjoying the flash of annoyance in your eyes. “But I guess that’s what happens when your little boy toy drops you for some little actress.” He gives you a faux look of sympathy. “I guess the rumors about you getting married were wrong.”
You swallow, his words hitting. Your ex had left you a month ago for some actress who was getting popular on Broadway. "You have no idea what you are talking about." You huff before you recover from the blow. "Are you jealous? Forever single Haroldo Castillo." You snort, "decided you don't want to pay for sex so you marry your work instead?"
“I have sex when I want.” He shrugs but you aren’t exactly wrong. Love seems to elude him. He’s too calculating, too cold. Or so he’s been told. Apparently looking at romantic attachments as transactional business deals is the wrong way to go about it. “That’s good enough for me.”
"Sure, whatever you tell yourself at night." You snort, "must be lonely." He narrows his eyes at you, leaning closer to rest his forearms on his desk. "I'd rather be lonely than frozen out by someone like you. Your ex probably got frostbite in bed." He bites back and you lean closer, shifting to the edge of your seat so you are leaning against his desk. "I might be a cold bitch but my pussy is hotter than hell." You retort, frustrated with his attack.
Harry snorts and rolls his eyes. “Sure. It was so hot your ex just couldn’t handle the heat.” He chuckles although it’s not funny. “But you tell yourself whatever you need to.” He would never admit that he used to wonder what it would be like to take you to bed. When he first met you, before the first barbed words were flung. Now he drinks after seeing you.
You narrow your eyes, “you’re such an asshole.” You resort to names when he takes your ammunition and blows it up in your face. The mention of your ex has you reeling and you stand up after picking up your purse, “at least I made my money. I came from nothing. I’m not a nepo baby whose mommy and daddy gave me my job and funded my career.”
The slight smirk on his face freezes and there’s a moment where neither one of you says anything. Harry sniffs slightly and plucks at the platinum cufflinks his mother had just given him for his last birthday. “Well there’s one thing that my parents afforded me that you obviously couldn’t teach yourself.” He says mildly and you huff. “What’s that?”
You demand. Harry smiles bitterly as he stands. “Class.” He answers. “Karly will see you out.”
“Prick.” You mutter, stepping away from his desk to walk over to the door and you turn to face him as he stands up to escort you out. He wants to make sure you leave his personal office. “For the record, I’d rather be classless and be able to stand on my own two feet instead of being vulnerable enough to have my whole world ripped out from under me and not have a clue how to survive in the world. Not all of us are born with a silver spoon, Haroldo.”
“It’s amazing what you think you know about me.” Harry hums, sounding amused but his eyes are cold. Your words strike, but not for the reasons you believe they do. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have other meetings to get to.”
You scoff, walking over to his door, and you open the door. “I’ll show myself out.” You storm from his office, offering a “goodbye Karly” to the flustered receptionist and she stands up, glancing back at Harry who is glaring at your retreating form. “Is the deal dead?” She asks and Harry growls, “she got what she wanted. Again. Call Henderson and transfer him to my phone.” Karly nods, “yes sir.” He slams his office door and Karly sits down, wondering when the tension will boil over between you two.
Two days later, Harry is celebrating the closing of the deal with his team at the Plaza. Treating them to dinner and drinks after at the hotel bar after the deal has been signed. He’s happy, feeling good after two bottles of wine for the table at dinner and he’s working on his second scotch when he feels the temperature in the room drop.
You scoff when you see Harry sitting across the restaurant when you head to the bar to get a drink. Your client and her husband had dinner with you in one of the restaurants after everyone signed a couple of hours ago in the private room Harry’s client organized. He only stays in the Plaza apparently and wanted to sign in his private room. Your clients were celebrating and you don’t usually drink with clients but a bottle of champagne later and you decide to find your own drink when you venture into the bar after your clients went home to continue their celebration. “Fuck me.” You mutter, deciding to ignore him and take your seat at the bar.
Harry glances over, frown forming on his face when he sees you sit down just a few feet away from him. He had felt a little bad about how the last meeting had gone. He had thrown the first barb that time, stooping down to your level and he didn’t like that. He turns back to his drink and takes another sip. His team are in high spirits and starting to talk about going somewhere else to continue to party, but he’s not doing that.
You order your drink, knowing you should probably head home but fuck it, you’ve done a great job today. Everyone is happy. Well, except Harry maybe. No one can please him. You’re about to order when the devil himself appears next to you. “I’ll get this round.” He offers and you huff, turning your head, “I can buy my own drinks.” He raises his eyebrow, “can’t you accept a drink from someone without being a bitch?” He asks and you roll your eyes and turn to the bartender, “dirty martini. Actually, make it filthy. Extra filthy.” You smirk, turning to look back at Harry, “something you’re not familiar with, Castillo.”
He snorts and shakes his head, cutting his eyes at you and then back at the bartender. “Her ‘filthy’ martini goes on my bill.” He tells him. “And another Glenfiddich for me when you get a chance.” He turns and waves as the rest of his staff call out their goodbyes as they file out the door.
You watch his staff leave and you huff, “are you not going to join them?” You ask and he shakes his head, “they are going to some club. Not really my scene.” He confesses and you giggle, “no shit. I can’t imagine you in a club. A country club maybe.”
He rolls his eyes and sighs as he wonders why he even tries sometimes. “Yes, I’m rich.” He snorts. “Some people would kill for that, some would want even more.” He glances at you. “You just bust my balls for taking my privilege and using it.” He shrugs. “I’m not apologizing for being born into wealth.”
You chuckle, “I didn’t say there’s anything wrong with being born rich but I find that all of you nepos seem to lack the urgency to get deals done. You don’t need the money, not really, but it’s like you don’t even have the thrill of the chase anymore. There’s no hunger there. No drive. Just…oh, there’s another million. Mommy and daddy will be pleased.”
He snorts, watching as the bartender delivers your filthy martini. He picks it up and watches your mouth drop open as he takes a sip. He winces slightly. “Too much vermouth and not enough brine.” He hums before he sets it back down in front of you. “So the problem is that I’m not a whore.” He lifts a brow. “Desperate for that payday that I’ll do anything?”
“Isn’t that part of the fun?” You lean in closer, “the thrill of the chase? The money is a byproduct. You seem…jaded, Harry. Like you’re just going through the motions. Don’t you want something more exciting?” You ask, curious and eager to rile him up.
“More exciting?” He turns, wondering what exactly would be more exciting to you. “I’ve made my clients one point two billion dollars this quarter.” He tells you. “Does that seem like I’m just going through the motions?”
You tilt your head, “that’s for them. What do you do for you? What excites you, hm?” You lean a little closer, “I’ve always wondered what makes you tick. What makes you lose control.” You smirk, reaching for your drink to have a sip of it.
“Why do you have to lose control?” He asks, knowing that he can’t tell you the truth. You are what makes him lose control. You annoyingly can change his mood, most often to anger. “You want that? Someone who loses control doesn’t make good decisions.”
You shrug, “makes life more fun, doesn’t it? Gets boring being so perfect. Look at you, tall…rich…born into money. You know how to dress, how to act. You’re handsome. Surely something is wrong with you? What’s the hidden con? What makes you lose control of that perfected personality?”
His eyes flicker over to you, then he picks up his drink and takes a sip. You know how to push his buttons and he doesn’t know if he wants you to have that ammunition. He smirks slightly. “Sex.” He shrugs and takes another sip.
You grin, “sex? How scandalous, Castillo.” You poke him, “what is it? Some weird kinks? You into all the fifty shades of grey kinks? Like being tied up? Or something kinkier?” You verbally prod him while having another sip of your drink.
He snorts and looks over at you with a smirk. Your eyes are wide, you’re leaning into him, eager to hear his answer. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” He teases, enjoying that he’s holding something over you right now.
You roll your eyes at him, setting your glass down, “because you haven’t answered I’m going to assume it’s something really freaky.” You giggle when he rolls his eyes back at you. “Relax, Harry. I’m just messing with you. You make it too much fun to see your reactions. I’d honestly have put you down as a prude.”
He snorts. “Not a prude.” He’s had plenty of experience, and it wasn’t long ago that despite his wealth, he had to work hard in bed to get a woman to see him again. “The whips and chains don’t get brought out until the third time I fuck someone.”
You giggle, a little tipsy from the champagne and gin you’ve consumed, “you know, you can be funny when you want to be.” You observe and he snorts, “gee, thanks.” You watch him, seeing how he glances around at the other patrons. “You know-” You lean closer, wanting to divulge a secret you’d never tell him if you were sober, “I’ve wondered what you’d be like in bed.”
He’s surprised by that and it shows, brows winging up and he searches your face. Waiting for you to burst out lighting and tell him that it’s a joke. You don’t, you just lean and your eyes flicker down to his lips. He recognizes the lust and the alcohol that is in his own system makes him forget that you annoy the shit out of him. He waits until you look back into his eyes and he lunges forward and presses his lips to yours.
You squeak in shock against his lips until you relax. Your hand comes up to caress his cheek, uncaring of eyes watching you as you tilt your head. Shit, he’s a good kisser. Your other hand grips the label of his jacket, trying to pull him closer and his hand finds your waist.
He shouldn’t kiss you, but damned if he doesn’t want to keep doing it. You melt into his arms like chocolate in the sun. Sliding his arms around you, his tongue slides into your mouth and he deepens the kiss with a groan.
You moan, sliding your tongue against his to taste the expensive scotch from his tongue and you slide your hand into his hair, wanting to ruin that stupidly perfect style he sports. A throat clears a moment later, the bartender standing there, and he glances over at his manager who is standing with his arms crossed. You’re about to call them prudes until you realize Harry has his leg between yours and his hand just under your breast. “Shit.” You murmur, lips tingling from his kiss.
Harry realizes that he was causing a scene. Something he never does. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a wad of cash, not even bothering to count it. He knows it will cover the tab. Pulling you with him as he straightens. “I’ll get a room.” He rasps out, staring at you while he waits for you to say no. He really wants you to agree. His cock is already hardening and he likes the softness in your eyes when he pulled back from kissing you.
You know you should say no but the combination of curiosity and alcohol has you nodding your head. He grips your chin, “need words, sweetheart.” You swear your legs would go to jello if you were standing so you croak out, “Yes.” He strides off and you take a moment to have a gulp of your drink, wincing as you push away from the bar and follow his retreating form into the lobby.
At the desk, the concierge is running his credit card. He booked the suite, always getting the best that he can. The keys are in his hand by the time you are standing beside him. There’s a flash of doubt, a voice that says this is a bad idea. A voice that dies down as soon as you are slipping your hand under his jacket, around his waist as you press close. “Did you get our room?” You purr and he smirks as he holds up the key card. “Penthouse suite.” He guides you towards the elevator.
“Only the best for Nepo Castillo.” You tease, giggling when he growls at you in frustration. You smirk and enter the elevator, watching as he presses the keycard against the pad to access the penthouse. “You know, you didn’t have to get the penthouse to get access to my pussy. You can’t buy me.”
“Don’t worry, I rented it for just an hour.” He snorts, making you open your mouth to say something sarcastic to him. He doesn’t want to hear it so he kisses you again. Pressing you against the wall and caging you with his body. This time, the kiss is ravenous. Wanting to devour you and wipe that smug look off your face.
You whimper into his mouth, hating how easily you concede to his kiss, to his touch. Your hands slide under his jacket, caressing the strong muscles of his back, and you moan when his tongue slides into your mouth. He doesn’t allow you a moment to dominate him as he takes control of your mouth until the elevator dings.
He knows the door will open up into the room so he doesn’t stop kissing you as he pulls you away from the wall. Dragging you off the car and up into his arms. Harry carries you. Cracking one eye open so he can navigate through the suite to the bedroom.
You gasp in surprise and let him carry you through the room, his arms under your ass as you cup his cheeks to continue kissing him. He stumbles a little and you pull back from his mouth, “let me walk, Castillo. I need to set my purse down.” You murmur against his lips between kisses and he grunts as he sets you down on the soft carpet of the bedroom. You shrug off your jacket, toss your purse down on the chair and step out of your heels to look at him as he carefully removes his blazer. You roll your eyes at his pristine manner and wrap his tie around your fist to drag him back into you for another kiss.
You’re so forceful. Harry huffs against your lips and he slides his hands down to grab your ass with both hands, pressing his length against your belly as he takes over again. Leveraging his body as he guides you back towards the bed, letting go of your ass only to drag the zipper of your dress down. Eager to get his hands on you and show you how good he can be.
You work on tugging his tie to take it off and you fling it across the room. Your fingers immediately working on the buttons of his shirt, needing to feel more of him, and you reluctantly stop unbuttoning his shirt so he can drag your dress from your shoulders to expose your bra and you resume unbuttoning his shirt until you can caress his chest.
He lets the dress pool at your hips, sliding around to unclip your bar. Your tits, he’s always wondered if you’ve had them done. He groans when he cups them and his thumbs flick over your nipples.
“Shit, baby.” You gasp, arching your back to push your tits into his hands and your hands side down to work on undoing his belt. You can’t resist sliding one hand down to rub him through his pants, eyes widening at the bulge you discover. “Always knew you were a dick. Didn’t know you had such a big one.”
His smirk is cocky and he twitches against your palm. “Now you know.” He teases, pinching your nipples and tugging on them to make you give him a perfect whimper as your eyes slide closed. He ducks his head down, wrapping his lips around one of them while he works on getting your dress completely off of you. Enjoying the little triangle of lace that covers your pussy, thick fingers hooking under the band and he rips it while he’s dragging them down.
“You owe me La Perla, Castillo.” You huff, annoyed he’s broken your underwear but not really when he lifts you up by your thighs to practically toss you on the bed. “I’ll buy you the whole fucking company.” He growls and you gasp when he kneels on the bed, his hands sliding along your legs until he’s pushing your thighs apart. It’s your turn to smirk when he exposes your wet pussy to the cool air of the suite and the heated gaze of his eyes. “Like what you see, Haroldo?” You tease, sliding your hand down to part your folds with your fingers.
He doesn’t roll his eyes, but he wants to wipe the cocky smirk off your face. The neat hair that creates a landing strip is like a beacon to him. He slaps your hand away and when you gasp, he takes the opportunity to dive into your folds. Licking up the slit and pulling your clit into his mouth with a loud slurping sound.
You want to make a smart remark about how you didn’t think he was a pussy eater but his tongue renders you speechless as he laps at you. “Oh shit.” You manage to gasp out a moment later, back arching and thighs squeezing his head when he sucks on your clit.
He smirks when you whimper and pulls off your pussy. Your juices are shiny around his lips but he still manages to look composed. “So that’s how to shut you up.” He slaps your thigh enough to make hair sting and then goes back to devouring you.
You tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging harshly to bring his hair away from your pussy. “Don’t you dare stop.” You demand and he nods in your grip, diving back in when you release your grip in favor of running your fingers through his locks. “Oh fuck. It feels so good. I never - shit - never thought you would go down on a woman. Figured you were a bl-blowjob and fuck kind of - kinda man.” You manage to pant out as he sloppily consumes you.
He wants to make some snarky comment about how you assume wrong about him all the time, but he’s too busy absorbing those sounds you make. Your taste is addictive, tangy and musky. You aren’t one of those women who insists on bathing her pussy in perfumed soap before oral, he can’t stand that. Reminds him of when his mother would wash his mouth out with soap when he was a kid. Squeezing your hip, he moves one hand, sliding his fingers around your entrance before slowly pushing two fingers inside you while he laps at your clit.
“Shit. Those fingers.” You moan, drunk on both the booze and his touch, and you lift your thigh onto his shoulder. Your heel digs into his back but he doesn’t care as he pumps his fingers into you. “Ha-Harry. Fuck. Just like that.” You pant when he curls his fingers just right.
You're bossy in bed, but it doesn’t bother him right now. He likes when a woman tells him what she needs to feel good. Men know their own bodies, what they like and sometimes that is far different for a woman. He continues to finger you, loving how you are soaking his fingers and rocking down on his face.
You pant, trying to catch your breath, and within moments, you’re reaching for his shoulders. “Come here.” You order, “I want to see you.” You shift so he’s laying down and you lean in to kiss his neck as you work on unbuttoning his pants after you straddle his thighs. You pull the zipper down and reach into his briefs to grip his cock. “Fuck me.” You murmur, pulling him free and you look up at him and back at his cock, “and you’re single?” You scoff, “the women in this city are idiots.”
He snorts, not pointing out that you are one of the women in this city. But he’s smirking when you start to pump his cock. “You gonna ride it or you plan on being a pillow princess?” He asks. You’re gorgeous and fully naked, but he’s glad you haven’t taken his pants off. Not sure that he wants you to see his scars. Although you probably haven’t heard of the surgery.
You scoff, “you know I’m not a princess.” You wrap your fingers around his cock, pumping him a couple of times until you position him at your entrance and sink down on him in one slide. “Fuck.” You gasp, caressing his chest.
Harry groans, gripping your hips harshly as he rocks his hips up. “Fuck.” He hisses, making you smirk as you lean forward you kiss his lips. “Told you my pussy was hot.” You taunt, nipping his bottom lip. That fires him up, making him grab you, wrapping his arm around your back and dragging you closer as he braces his feet to start thrusting up into your grasping walls.
You cry out when he fucks up into you, your hands bracing on the bed on either side of his face. “Holy shit.” You choke, eyes rolling into the back of your head and you would grind back onto him but his grip is going to leave bruises. “Ha-Harry.” You cry, “shit.” He pistons in and out of you, pushing squeals from your lips. “Oh fuck. I’m gonna cum.” You gasp in surprise just as you clamp down on his cock.
He growls, lips against yours as he takes it in. Watching you as you fall apart because of him. Because of how he’s fucking you. He doesn’t stop just because you are falling apart. He’s fucking you through it, gritting his teeth as he continues to rock up into you. Feeling like he’s won as you cry out again every time he pushes deep.
He rocks you through it until you fall forward onto his chest, your lips finding his again. The high of the orgasm and the alcohol have you moaning into his mouth. “Lemme-” You shift off his cock, your juices glistening on his skin as you move back and reach for his pants. “I want to see all of you.”
He freezes for a moment before he lifts his hips, telling himself that you wouldn’t know what the scars would be even if you see them. It’s not as if the surgery is well known. He watches as you drag his pants down, eyes fixed on your face to see your reaction.
You pull his pants down his legs along with his briefs, exposing his body to your hungry eyes. “Goddamn, you’re - shit. You’re an asshole but you're a hot asshole.” You shake your head, shifting to straddle him again. You slide his cock through your folds, slicking him up again.
You don’t even notice the imperfections in his legs. Harry lunges up and presses his lips to your, wrapping his arms around you and groaning at the feel of your breasts pressed against his chest. Sliding his tongue into your mouth when you open up for him, grinding down on his length and making him pant out in anticipation of being inside you again.
You lift up, shifting to position him so he can slide into your cunt again. “Fuck.” You pant into his mouth, cupping his cheeks as you start to rock on top of him. “You feel so good, Harry. Never - never thought we’d end up like this. Guess we can work well together. Just in bed and not in the office.”
He chuckles, slapping your ass lightly and groaning your name when you clench down around him. “Because you’re screwing me in a way I like.” He jokes, smirking up at you as he twitches inside you. “You look so good in my cock.” He grunts, slapping your ass again.
You grind back onto him, harder and faster, “you love getting screwed by me in your office.” You tease breathlessly, “shit. You feel so good, baby. Never - never thought you’d feel like this.” You murmur, shifting to sit up so you can bounce harder on his cock.
He could be insulted, but he’s not. Watching as your tits bounce and your walls clench around his length as you ride him. You’re wild and he loves it. Drunk on the sight of you. “Fuck. I knew you’d feel like this.” He grunts, rocking up to meet your pace. “Little prick never deserved you.”
His words make you shiver and you squeeze your tits, looking down at him as he stares at you with those dark eyes. “Fuck. Need you to take over. My thighs ache.” You tell him, “want to feel you on top of me.”
He waits a beat, just long enough for you to huff before he is rolling you over. Pinning you under him in a move that is smooth and seamless. His cock still buried deep in your pussy but he grinds deeper still. “Can’t handle being in control for long, can you?” He taunts. “You like being taken. Don’t you?” He smirks as he leans forward and bites your bottom lip. “That’s your secret. You don’t really want control.”
“In bed. In life? I want all the control.” You answer, “in bed I’ll let you take control. Come on, Castillo. Show me what you got.” You demand, sliding your hands down his back until you are squeezing his ass to push him even deeper inside you.
He snorts but he doesn’t push back. Instead he takes your lead and starts to rock into you. Sinking down to his elbows and the snap of his hips sharper, wanting to pull a moan out of you.
Your head tilts back, a moan crawling out of your throat that sounds foreign to your ears but it spurs Harry on. He rocks into you a little faster, one hand sliding along your thigh to lift it higher so he can hit deeper inside you. “Ha-Harry. Shit. I - you feel so good.” You pant, lost in the sensations.
You are so responsive to him. His groan matches yours and he huffs as he sinks deeper. “You’re like a fucking vice”. He hisses. “So fucking tight and hot.” Your ex was a fucking moron for thinking some new piece of ass would be better than this. He palms on your breasts and loves how you arch up into his grip.
You’d never do this if you were sober but you are drunk on him too. The way he feels, his shoulders, his muscles. His upper arms. You can’t stop touching him. Your fingers tangle in his hair and you drag him back to your mouth, rocking your hips up to meet him.
His hands guide your legs around his hips. Wanting you to wrap yourself around him. He slides his arm under your back and braces his knees. “Fuck.” He groans. “Want you to cum again.” He huffs.
You watch him, his chest heaving as he fucks you. God, this is gonna be burned into your brain, and the sound of skin slapping echoes in the expensive suite. “Harry. Oh shit. You’re gonna make me cum again.” You pant, squeezing your eyes shut, and his hand grips your chin, “look at me.” You force your eyes open, eyes fluttering with the struggle and it takes two more thrusts to push you over the edge again. You clamp down on his cock, soaking him as a wail escapes your lips.
Harry groans your name, immediately pushing deep and painting your walls with his hot seed. Not even thinking about anything else but how good you feel, how amazing this is. “Fuuuuuuck.” He pants, riding out his high until he is gently pulling out of you and shifting onto his back. “Holy shit.”
You hum in agreement, shifting onto your side, and you curl into Harry, your hand caressing your chest. You don’t speak, lost in the satisfaction that flows through you. You slide your hand down his stomach and back up to his chest. He wraps his leg around yours and you frown, noticing the scar on his thigh, tracing your finger along it.
Freezing, Harry barely resists the urge to slap your hand away. He shifts his leg, pulling it off yours and lays there for another moment. The turmoil of you realizing what that is sinks in his stomach and he shifts until you pull away and he climbs out of the bed to go into the ornate en-suite.
You frown, sitting up, and you watch him shut the door to the bathroom. You are confused, wondering why he’s so upset. You know what the scars are. You’ve heard of others having it done in your circles. A popular surgery that is kept under wraps to make men taller. You never imagined he had surgery, he seems so confident, like he’s always been comfortable in himself. He doesn’t come out for a while and you sigh, shifting off the bed to find your clothes.
Harry stares at the mirror for a moment, hating the reflection and he turns away. Checking the tuck of the towel at his hips. He didn’t shower but it was a good way to hide the scars to go out to get his clothes. You are picking up your torn underwear when he comes out and he’s almost glad you have the same idea that he does. “The room is rented for the night.” He says as he strides over to where his trousers and boxers are laying in a heap.
He’s cold and it’s like ice water thrown over you. You watch him as he pulls his briefs up under the towel followed by his pants until he tosses the towel on the bed. “Harry-” You sigh and he shakes his head, “don’t. You got your ammunition. You can tell all your associates. Laugh at me for getting surgery to be taller. I’m sure you’ll enjoy mocking me.” He spits at you and you flinch back, “you really think I’d - wow. Uh, I guess we will forget this happened, huh? If that’s what you think of me. After everything we - fuck you, Harry.” You scoff, pulling on your dress and you zip it before reaching down to grab your bra. You shove it in your purse along with your ruined panties as you step into your heels. “Enjoy your suite, Haroldo. Hopefully it’s big enough to store your goddamn baggage.” You scoff, calling the elevator and you don’t turn around to look at him while he dresses. You step onto the car and press the button for the ground floor, fighting the stinging of unshed tears in your eyes as the doors slide shut. He didn’t stop you from leaving and you let the tears fall while his cum drips down your thigh. “Fuck him.” You mutter, stubbornly wiping your cheeks. Tomorrow when you’re sober, you’ll forget how it felt to have Harry Castillo inside you.
****
It’s been five weeks since the night you left the suite. Five weeks since he has tried everything to get the memory of the way you felt, tasted, out of his brain. That’s why he approaches her. The matchmaker that had managed to pair Peter and Charlotte together. She had worked a miracle there. It doesn’t hurt that she’s beautiful and poised. Approaching relationships as pragmatically as he does. It’s why he wants her instead of her services. She would be able to chase away the hurt he had seen in your eyes when you left that night.
****
You stare at the test in your hand. It’s been eight weeks since you drunkenly - mistakenly - slept with Harry and you’re so torn. The test is positive and you don’t know if you could scream in fury or joy. Your ex - the one who ran off with the actress - wanted to try for a baby at some point. You’re a control freak and you decided to get your fertility tested to see if you needed to freeze your eggs or do something to prepare for when you wanted kids. You found out you have PCOS. You had cysts removed and you were told it would be virtually impossible to conceive naturally. You grieved at that time being able to naturally conceive and carry your baby. You wanted to freeze your eggs but your ex said he didn’t want to “have a lab grown baby” - he refused to educate himself- and the next thing you know he cheated on you. You have an appointment to freeze your eggs but you’ve been busy with work and kept pushing it off. Now it seems the impossible has happened. You’re pregnant. With Harry’s baby. You stare at the test and decide to keep the news to yourself in case something happens but you decide in that moment that you are keeping the baby. Your hand shifts to caress your stomach, a smile appearing on your lips. You have a chance to be a mother and you’re going to take it. Even if you hate their father.
****
“Mother.” Harry sighs as he listens to his mother bowl him over, ignoring his protests. “I cannot go to dinner with you tonight, I have plans.” He stresses again. “A date. Yes, yes, a real date.” He rolls his eyes to himself and shifts the phone to his other ear. “Lovely woman. Yes, I met her at the wedding.” He pauses. “Yess, putting me at the singles table worked. You were right.” He sighs softly, listening to her sing her own praises for a moment before he glances at the clock. “So I’ve got to go.” He stresses. “Why don’t you go to dinner with Charlotte? Peter is working late on the Kensy deal. Because he was the lead, mother.” He huffs. “The investors wanted him to finalize everything…..their honeymoon was last week. He can still work even though he’s married now.” Sometimes his mother forgets that she worked her entire marriage and now seems to think that Harry should be the only one pulling late hours. “Listen, I’ve got to go. I love you. Talk tomorrow.” He disconnects the call and adjusts his shirt. Hopefully this date will seal the deal with Lucy. He wants to move on with his life and stop thinking about someone else.
It's been a week since you found out you're pregnant, confirming it with your doctor, and you've been torn about telling Harry. You know he hates you, but he should know. You don't want anything from him, but he deserves to know what happened that night. You have a meeting with him today for another merger and you are dreading it. You haven't seen him since that night. When you arrive at his office, Karly greets you with a friendly smile. "I'll let him know you are here." She says and you thank her, deciding not to sit down because you're too damn nervous.
Harry had left Lucy in his bed. Kissing her cheek and smiling as he had walked out. Only to be reminded of you when Karly had alerted him of the meeting on the schedule. Guilt and fear curling in his gut. Wondering what kind of shit you will talk about him today. Probably making some kind of joke about his height. As well as the usual ones about nepotism. He doesn’t look up when the door opens again. “I don’t have much time.” He announces.
You aren't snapping at him like usual, more contained, and you nod, "thanks for seeing me." He frowns slightly at your softer approach and you walk in to sit down in the plush leather chair. "Espresso?" Karly asks and you shake your head, "no thanks." She nods and exits the office, shutting the door behind her. Harry is looking at his computer screen, clearly impatient and you avoid looking at him too, eyes drifting to the velvet box on his desk along with a print out confirmation for a flight to Iceland. His gaze flicks to you, following your eyes to the box, and he smirks, picking up the box to open it. You inhale sharply at the ring inside, "you're getting engaged?"
“Asking tomorrow.” He watches you, waiting for some kind of insult or joke at his expense. Like you always do. He looks back down at the ring and misses the hurt look that crossed your face. “I’m sure that you didn’t come here to talk about my personal life.” He glances back up at you. “What’s the problem with the Mercer deal?” He asks, lifting a brow.
Your hand drifts to your stomach but you force yourself to rest it on your thigh, knowing that telling him means ruining his engagement. You might hate him but even you can’t ruin his entire relationship. “Wow. I knew you were quick but that must be a record engagement.” You prod weakly and he rolls his eyes at you, “the deal?” He asks and you nod, clearing your throat. “They want to close earlier. My client is going to India to visit family and they want the deal done before they go. We need to move the close up a week.” You say, trying to ignore that you feel hurt by his engagement. For some reason. You hate the man, you should pity the girl he marries.
He clenches his jaw as he glances down at the calendar on his laptop. “I’ll be in Iceland for two weeks.” He tells you. “The soonest we can close will be the 27th.” He will have to come back a day earlier, but he doubts Lucy will mind. “Does that work?”
You pick up your phone, checking your calendar, and you sigh, “that will have to do. He leaves the next day but we will make it work. Even if we need to go to his house.” You say and Harry nods, “I’ll get things done on my end too.” You put your phone back in your purse, glancing back at the ring, “that’s everything.” You say, knowing that could’ve been a phone call but you wanted to see him, to tell him. You glance back at the ring, knowing you can’t ruin his happiness. “Do you love her?” You ask, blurting it out before you can think twice.
Harry stares at you for a moment, wondering if you are jealous. Then he thinks of how you had left the hotel that night. How you hadn’t said a word to him until today. Validating everything he had thought about what you had really wanted that night. “Do you really care?” He asks, glancing back at the ring box and then to you.
You swallow the lump in your throat at the venom in his tone. The narrowing of his eyes as he looks at you. “No. Of course not. I was trying to be nice. My mistake. I won’t make it again. Like so many other mistakes I’ve made.” You hiss, shifting to stand up. “I’d say enjoy Iceland but it’s too hot for you there. You really should’ve tried Antarctica. More appropriate for you.” You scoff, “I’ll show myself out.” You walk towards his office door, blinking away those stupid fucking tears that well up. Damn hormones. You rush past Karly, ignoring her question, “are you okay?” and you look up at the top of the elevator car to blink away the tears. You will not cry over Harry Castillo. You have a baby to focus on.
****
It’s nine in the morning and he’s drunk. It’s what happens when he starts drinking at 2 AM and doesn’t stop. The driver eyes him from the rearview mirror, but he doesn’t turn around. Dutifully carrying him to the address he had slurred out. The glass in his hand empty, the ice melting. Still, he puts it up to his lips and drinks down the taste of whiskey. Wishing that he had thought to bring the bottle. “Goddamnit.” He was supposed to be on a plane. Headed towards his future. Instead he was miserable. Not because Lucy had left him. No, he was actually a little relieved. He was miserable because he was relieved that she had pointed out that he didn’t love her. That she had made him think about who he did love and he fucking hates it. Hates that you managed to get under his skin. It’s your fault. And he’s going to tell you exactly how he feels about it.
“Goddamnit.” You murmur, wiping your mouth with some tissue as you flush the toilet. You brush your teeth, needing to freshen up even though you could likely throw up again. Morning sickness has hit you hard and you are working from home today. Dressed in leggings and a t-shirt. It’s all you can manage. You always wait until after you’ve thrown up to take the prenatal vitamins on the counter but your doorbell rings and you sigh, making your way to your front door. You look through the peephole and frown, opening the door a moment later. “Harry?” You are confused until you see how drunk he is. He almost can’t stand up. “What the hell?” You huff, “come in. Shit. You need water. And food.” You order without thinking twice. He looks terrible.
Harry stumbles into your apartment, huffing at you and nearly knocking over the tree stand next to your door. “Hey, watch it.” He gives the stand a dirty look, like it had run into him and he lifts the empty glass to his lips, only to look down at it in bewilderment when it’s completely empty. He had dumped the ice out when he got out of the car. He sighs heavily for a moment and then looks at you. “You.” You huff and he sighs again. “This is all your fault.”
You roll your eyes, “my fault? How is you being drunk my fault?” You scoff, “aren’t you supposed to be in Iceland?” You ask and he groans, shaking his head. “Yes and I’m not. And it’s your fault.” You huff, “right. Sure. All my fault.” You sense there’s no point arguing with him when he’s like this. You’ve never seen him this drunk. Not even that night together.
“It is.” Harry insists and then looks around the much smaller apartment. “She didn’t love me.” He tells you, turning back to face you. “And I don’t love her.”
You soften at the look in his eyes, “oh Harry. I- I’m sorry.” You reach out to touch his arm after you close your front door. “Come on, let’s get you some water.” You walk into your apartment, letting him follow you, and you enter your kitchen to get him a glass of water.
He doesn’t say anything else, just standing there. Wondering why the hell he is here. You hate his guts. “You decorate nicely.” He says after you hand him the water and he takes his first sip. His mind is reeling but that might just be because he’s drunk. “She broke up with me. Didn’t want to go to Iceland with me.”
You could easily tear him apart right now, rip him to shreds with insults and words like "smart girl" but the way he looks at you has you wanting to find this Lucy girl and shake her, ask her what the fuck is wrong with her. "Well, she's an idiot. She clearly doesn't know when she's got a 10/10. I mean, if you fucked her half as good as you fucked me, she should be the one getting down on one knee." You snort, "she's an idiot, Harry. You deserve better...and that's coming from me."
He shoots you a smirk, one that is self-deprecating. “You hate me.” He reasons. “Surprised you haven’t told everyone about that night.” He chuckles. “My dirty little secret. People know, you know.” He babbles. “You don’t go from being five foot six to six foot without people noticing.” He takes another drink of the water and winces because it’s not whiskey. “They know. They just don’t say anything.”
You roll your eyes, "well, fuck 'em. It's like a woman getting a boob job. Everyone knows but everyone appreciates it, and thinks they are hotter. That's the world we live in. They might judge you but if you asked them to fuck you, they'd jump into your bed. People talk, Castillo. We live in the elite of New York. People get bored. They need entertainment." You finish your rant with a slight frown because you know people will talk about you - whisper about who got you pregnant. Likely they'd say your pathetic ass went back to your ex for a night. No one would suspect Harry with your well known feud. "Besides, telling anyone would mean explaining how I know you have those scars and I am not giving the gossipers my secrets on a silver platter." You finish your sentence and that's when the nausea rises. "Shit." You gasp, rushing to your kitchen sink to throw up. It's the closest one and yes, it's gross but you can't stop yourself as you gag.
He frowns as you retch over the sink, swaying slightly as he shuffles over and awkwardly pats your back. “Why are you sick?” He huffs. “Are you drunk too? Did Lucy break up with you?” It’s a stupid comment and he frowns because he knows there’s something wrong with it but he can’t figure out what. “Do you need water?” His half drunk cup is put in front of you beside the sink.
You chuckle weakly at his attempts to comfort you even if you know he doesn't really mean them and you shift away from him, taking the cup to rinse your mouth and you spit it into the sink. "No, Harry. I'm fine. I'm not sick. I - shit - you're drunk already so maybe this is the best time to tell you. I was going to tell you when I saw you last but the ring and the engagement threw me and I didn't want to ruin your plans but fuck - how can I say this?" You choke and he shakes his head, trying to keep track until you just inhale deeply, focusing on him. "I'm pregnant."
He stares at you stupidly for a moment, eyes dropping from your face to your stomach as if he could possibly tell. “Pre-pregnant?” He echoes. He’s not dumb, even drunk he knows that you are telling him that he got you pregnant. “Fuck.” He huffs, running his hand through his hair. “We gotta- we gotta get married.”
You can't help but laugh. It was the last thing you thought he'd say. You figured he'd yell at you for being so stupid, for trying to trap him or something mean. You roll your eyes when he just stares at you. "Don't be stupid, Castillo. We aren't getting married. You knocked me up after one night of drunk sex. I am keeping the baby by the way. I don't - you don't have to do anything. I am capable of having this baby alone. I just fi-figured you deserved to know and decide what you want to do...but we are not getting married."
“But-“ he frowns and shakes his head. He can’t blurt out what he’s thinking, not when you just turned down getting married. “That’s my baby.” He is quickly starting to sober up, watching you as you clutch your stomach. His baby. You’re having his baby. And you hate him. “In you.”
You snort, "yeah. It is. I, uh, I didn't trap you. If you are going to accuse me of that." You add, so used to his vitriol. "I didn't think - I was told I couldn't naturally conceive so I didn't use birth control. I didn't get pregnant with my ex but you - I guess your swimmers got up in there and took." You snort, "I really am not expecting anything Harry, and you're drunk so why don't I cook us something since my stomach is settling while you take a nap on the sofa? Then we will talk when you've sobered up."
He frowns again. “You wouldn’t do that.” He declares as he shuffles over to your tiny kitchen table and flops down on a chair. “You like to fuck me, not trap me. You hate me.” He sounds upset about that, looking at you sadly. “Do you regret it? Me getting you pregnant?”
You cross your arms, biting your lip as you watch him for a moment until you shake your head, "no. I never - I was told it was impossible. I was getting ready to freeze my eggs soon. To be able to have a baby naturally? Without IVF? It's - it's what I have wanted for a while. So thank you. Even if you hate me, I want to say thank you for giving me this."
“I don’t hate you.” Harry snorts. “You piss me off, irritate me on purpose.” He blows out a tortured sigh. “Because I’m a ‘nepo baby’.” He even does the air quotes, wildly exaggerated because he’s drunk. “But I respect you. Even when you piss me off. You’re smart, sharp as hell. You’re a shark. And you’re sexy.” He giggles slightly, finding himself to be clever with using so many ‘s’ words to describe you. You look shocked and he grins at you. “You were right.” He adds. “You've got a great pussy.”
You fluster, the bravado of your previous interactions sliding away as you approach him to sit down at the kitchen table beside him. "You say that now while you're drunk." You reason and he scoffs, shaking his head dramatically enough to make you giggle. "I don't hate you either. You annoy the shit out of me. I think you have been handed your career on a silver platter while I had to work my ass off. I went to Yale on a scholarship, worked multiple jobs to pay off my bills until I graduated. I've worked damn hard for what I have. I didn't get given anything and you have no idea how good you have it. That - that is what I hated. But...you're sexy, handsome, and smart. I always found you attractive, always wondered what you'd be like in bed and I think...I think you'd be a great father. I want you to be in their life as their father. I don't want us to try a relationship because that always goes wrong when people are together just for the kid, but I want to raise them with you. Oh - I went for a scan yesterday." You stand up to walk over to the counter, taking the small scan back over to Harry and handing it to him after you sit down. "I find out the gender at the next scan."
“It’s- it’s so small.” He squints at the photo and tries to figure out what exactly it looks like. “It’s like a little alien.” He huffs after a moment and you laugh. “It’s okay?” He asks. “You’re okay?” He has a million questions, but this seems to be the most prevalent in his mind. He still hates that you turned him down for marriage. And now you said you wouldn’t be in a relationship with him. You don’t want him at all. Just the baby.
His question takes you by surprise but you nod, "I'm fine. They are fine. Healthy according to the doctor. I have this whole list of vitamins and foods to eat." You chuckle, "I really miss sushi and a martini already." You confess and he smirks, "filthy?" You nod, "you know me too well, Castillo." He shakes his head, "Harry. Call me Harry. I don't - we are having a baby together." You nod, "Harry." He smiles, looking back down at the photo. "So what happens next?" He asks and you sigh, "I don't know. I didn't - I didn't really think that far ahead."
He’s quiet for a moment. Looking around your apartment and then he’s looking back at you. “You should move in with me.” He tells you. “I have five bedrooms.” He knows you don’t want to be with him, but he would rather have his child under his roof. Be able to see them anytime he wants. His stomach growls. “I’m hungry.”
"Move in - shit, honey, you must be drunk." You giggle, reaching out to squeeze his knee. He sighs in annoyance and you squeeze his knee again, "let me think about it. That's a big change for me." You explain and he nods, "let me make you something. I kinda want pancakes. You want pancakes?" You ask and he nods, "I could eat some pancakes." You shift to stand up, making your way to the kitchen cabinets to begin making some breakfast.
Harry sighs as he sits, leaning forward and resting his head down on his arms that are crossed on the table. You’re pregnant. He’s still reeling from that revelation and everything he’s said so far has seemed to be wrong. He’s gone from expecting to propose to Lucy, to being dumped, to being an expectant father with a different woman. “I wonder what would have happened if we had stayed.” He mumbles to himself, eyes closed.
You hear his mumble and don't answer, knowing that you would've slept in his arms that night. Maybe you would've woken up and told him that you don't actually hate him. Not anymore. When you first met Harry, he was cocky, showing off to his friends about his new Maybach and driver, and you hated how he winked at you so you asked him if the Maybach came from Mommy and Daddy and he bit back. From that moment, you battled with him. Especially when it came to your business interwinning with his. Since that initial meeting, you've exchanged barbs but you always liked his soft brown eyes and his hands. "We will never know." You murmur to yourself as you work on the mix.
He falls asleep. Or maybe passes out. All he knows is that you are clinking a plate down beside him as he jolts back to live. “Pregnant!” He gasps, blinking and frowning when he looks at you. “Did I dream that?”
You slowly shake your head, “nope. It’s real. Are you- would you prefer it if I were to - you know? Uh, get rid of it?” You ask, wanting him to feel like he can express his feelings even if you don’t want to get rid of the baby.
“What?” His eyes widen in horror and he shakes his head. “No. No, I don’t want that.” He promises. “I just- I would never want that. Not even if you wanted me to have nothing to do with the baby.” He doesn’t want that, and he hopes you don’t try to keep his child from him. He frowns and reaches out to touch your hand. “You said you wanted to keep the baby, right?” He asks. “I support you. I - I want what you want.”
You turn your hand to take his in yours, squeezing it, “I want the baby but I want you to feel like you can express how you feel. This is a big deal, Harry. This changes our lives and I want you to know that you don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to. I want this baby. I never thought I’d get the chance to have a baby like this and I can’t give that up. I can’t give the baby up.”
He purses his lips and looks into your eyes. “I want to be a father.” He admits. “I know you think I’m a spoiled, privileged nepo baby who has been handed everything, but I haven’t been handed love or a family.” He swallows and sighs. “You don’t want to be with me, I understand, but I want to be in my child’s life. I want to be there for everything.”
You stare at him for a moment, seeing the sincerity in his eyes, and you nod, “there’s so many details but I’ll come to your apartment, see what it’s like, and then we can get our lawyers to draft a joint custody agreement. For now…would you like to come to the next scan? I can call Karly and block your calendar out.”
It’s cold and clinical. Making Harry realize what he had been asking of Lucy. A marriage that was born of mutual benefit. He knows now that neither one of them would have been truly happy. For the first time since they had that heart to heart, he’s glad she was brave enough to decide she wanted more. He nods. “Yes.” He’s adamant. “Yes. I want to be there for every appointment.”
"Great. Come on, your pancakes and bacon are getting cold." You nudge the syrup towards him after you let go of his hand. He nods and you inhale deeply, knowing this has the potential to get complicated but only if you let feelings be involved. You're going to treat this like every time you meet Harry Castillo: a business agreement.
****
"Did you buy the least baby friendly apartment in Tribeca?" You ask Harry as you eye his expensive artwork and first edition booked on display. The sharp edges on every piece of furniture. "I love the floor though." You admire the herringbone floor. "We'd have to babyproof the entire place from top to bottom."
He snorts and looks around with a critical eye. “Seriously?” He asks, and you huff at him. “Wouldn’t it just be easier to buy a new apartment?” He doesn’t care what happens, but he feels a little insulted that you would just immediately condemn his apartment as a death trap for a baby. “There’s a building on Reade Street. Zoned for a multi-family building. We could build it out how you want it.”
"Reade St? I mean, I do well but not that well, Harry." You say and he scoffs, "I'd buy it. Put it in a trust for the baby once she is born. It's a good investment. We can rent out the other units. Create a portfolio for her before she's even one year old." He says and you sigh, "the ultimate nepo baby." You smirk after a second, "like her father." You nudge him playfully and he rolls his eyes, "you'd really do that?" You ask after a moment and he raises his eyebrows, "we can take a look at it. the bachelor pad is a no go."
It takes Harry just one afternoon to schedule the appointment with the broker. It had been on the market for nearly a year. “So this used to be a warehouse for a chocolatier.” The perfectly poised realtor in fake Louboutins lets her heels click on the concrete floors. “Exposed iron beams and original wooden joists.” She sighs softly. “She was built in 1860 and has 18,740 square feet above street level and another 9,000 square feet below grade.” She smirks. “That can make for some interesting rooms.” Harry chuckles but he’s watching you as you walk through the large space. “You could design anything you want. 18 foot ceiling.”
“Wow. It’s - it’s insane.” You comment and look at Harry. The potential is limitless and you turn to look at him, “do you think we’d be able to do something with it before she’s born?” You ask, hand sliding down to your stomach. “Oh I didn’t know you were expecting. Congratulations, Mrs. Castillo.” The broker coos at you and you shake your head, “Miss-” You give her your last name and her eyes widen, “I’m sorry. I assumed.” She says and you offer her a shrug, “it’s okay. We are an unusual situation. Not every day your baby daddy spends 24 million on a property.”
He snorts and resists the urge to wrap his arms around you. Touching you has been hard to resist and he wants to talk to you about more. “I think we can.” He tells you. “We have the construction team focus on the penthouse. Get that done before finishing any other units.” He tilts his head. “Unless you want it to just be a one family property.” He offers. “Build some office space for us.”
You tilt your head back at him, seeing the look in his eyes and it makes you nervous. In the weeks since he found out about the baby, he’s been softer towards you. Especially when you found out you’re having a girl. “Well I think it depends on the price. Based on comps of other places sold in TriBeCa, this is overpriced considering the work that needs to be done.” You turn to look at the broker with a raised eyebrows, “we have a lot of options. The price has to be right.”
Harry steps back from the negotiations, letting you take the lead and is impressed with the way you don’t take any shit from the broker. After promising to take your offer back to the sellers, he guides you back to the car waiting outside. “That was a bold offer.” He tells you with a grin.
“They will counter, but this is for our girl. Only the best. Besides, I didn’t think you could handle such a big deal, Haroldo.” You smirk and slide into his awaiting town car, not seeing him roll his eyes with affection. “My mom called me to confirm dinner tonight.” He tells you as you settle into the seat, “are you sure you are ready to tell them? They will assume we are together.” He says and you huff, “so will all of New York. I don’t care what others think. This is about our daughter and she deserves to have grandparents too. My mom is in California. She won’t be able to see her all the time.”
“She will be thrilled.” Harry has gotten used to your snark and sarcasm. He thinks of it as playful banter instead of trying to get under his skin. “Peter has been the favorite for months since getting married and now he’ll be second place forever.” He jokes.
You snort, “well time to take your spotlight, baby.” You tease, reaching down to squeeze his hand as the town car makes its way back to Harry’s where you are staying until you find somewhere else. Harry insisted you sublet and get some extra income and you agreed, knowing he wants you close during the pregnancy.
****
“Is this okay?” You ask Harry as you come into the living area where he’s sitting with his iPad and his glasses on his nose. The dress is tighter than normal, wanting to show off the small bump since it’s going to be announced anyway.
He looks up and his eyes widen. You look gorgeous. The tight dress shows off the small swell that his baby rests in. “You look-“ he leans forward and sets his iPad down and takes off his glasses. “Amazing.” He promises. “Prettiest pregnant woman I’ve ever seen.”
“I think you might be biased, Castillo, but I’ll take it.” You grin at him, “I’ll be needing new clothes soon so better make the best of wearing my tight fitting things.” You confess and he chuckles, “any excuse to go shopping.” You huff at him, “I work hard for what I have. I haven’t asked you for a Birkin yet.” You point at him and he snorts, “yet?” You smirk, leaning over the edge of the sofa to look down at him, “I am going to push your baby out my vagina, Harry.” He looks up at you, tilting his head, “fair point.” You giggle and step away so you can slide into your shoes and grab your purse.
Harry stands up and brushes down his own slacks and sweater. “The car should be waiting.” He leads you towards the elevator. “If we do buy the building, would you want to have the top floor? Top two floors?” He’s interested in what you would want. How you would design your perfect place to live. He honestly doesn’t care, as long as you and the baby are comfortable.
“I think top two floors. That way we can have space between us. Your room, my room, the baby’s room. Then guest suites. I’m sure you’ll want entertainment space for clients and I want a big kitchen. The one thing I want? A rooftop garden. Where I can have a greenhouse. When I was a kid, my mom and I used to have fruit and vegetables in a greenhouse and we’d spend hours in there tending to it. Since I moved to New York, my green thumb has gone and I think I’d like to have those memories with her.” You place your hand on your bump.
He could make some sarcastic comment about the views and how most would kill for an open living area and you want to grow weeds, but it’s actually really sweet. He makes a note to have the builders create a large greenhouse for you, as well as an open air growing space. The roof is large enough to support that as well as some entertaining spaces. He wants you and his baby girl to have everything you could want. “Done.” He assures you with a small smile. “You still have your green thumb.” He assures you, making you shoot him a perplexed look. Harry smirks and reaches out to rub your stomach. “You are growing our little girl beautifully.”
You’re shocked at the display of affection combined with his words and you place your hand on top of his. “Thank you.” You murmur, blinking away the tears welling up. You’ve been terrified to lose her. To risk this chance to have a baby like this. You’ve probably gone above and beyond making sure you’ve eaten right and done everything the doctor says. “She’s worth it, isn’t she? All of this. She’s going to be our world.” You murmur, looking back up at Harry. He nods, “she already is.” He promises, withdrawing his hand, and your heart pounds in your chest. You have no idea when things started to shift, maybe it’s the baby hormones, but you desperately want to kiss him, to touch him. You clear your throat, leaning back into the seat as his driver navigates the busy streets to Harry’s parents home on the Upper East side.
The butler lets you in, making Harry very appreciative of the fact he does not employ a butler. You snort softly and roll your eyes at him as your coat is taken. Mouthing ‘nepo baby’ to him playfully as he greets Charles like an old friend and hands him his own coat. “Where is my son?” He hears his mother coming from down the hall and he turns, his hand on your back as he guides you forward. “Mother.” He hums as she comes into view, presenting a united front with you for what will be an interesting evening. “Thank you for inviting us to dinner.”
You can't deny you’re nervous. Most mothers would not be happy with their son bringing a woman he got pregnant from a one night stand to dinner. Especially not in these social circles. “I’m surprised you came. You usually avoid us these days.” She huffs, cupping his cheeks to insect him. “You’ve lost weight. You need to eat.” She says and he gently grips her wrists, “mama.” He huffs and you giggle at the display. You love seeing him bothered. “Oh.” She says your name, “Harry mentioned he was bringing you to dinner. I was quite surprised. Usually when Harry says your name it’s with enough venom to take down an army.” She raises her eyebrows at her son. “Yes, uh, we didn’t exactly get along until recently. Circumstances changed.” You confess, sliding your hand down to your small bump, bracing yourself for her reaction.
Her eyes flicker down to your stomach and she gasps. She's not stupid, she knows what that move means and she immediately starts to chastise Harry. “Haroldo Javier Castillo Rivera.” She scolds. “You have gotten this woman pregnant with your child and there is not a ring on her finger yet?” She gasps as his father walks into the foyer. “Did your father and I not raise you better?” His father frowns, glancing at you and Harry before he moves to his wife’s side. “Dear….” He murmurs. “Do not scold them just yet. Perhaps they are here to tell us everything.
Harry nods, his hand on your back and his father ushers you into the formal living room for pre-dinner drinks. “When Harry said he was bringing you, I never imagined this. We knew - well, we didn’t think you got along but I guess we were wrong.” His father says and you chuckle, accepting the sparkling water from the butler with a soft “thank you.” You nod, “it’s, uh, true. We didn’t exactly get along and we still argue but one night produced the baby and we are deciding to co-parent. I don’t want to marry your son out of duty. That will only lead to us being unhappy and a messy divorce. I want us to be there for our daughter.”
“A girl?” The argument of not marrying is quickly set aside as her eyes soften and she gets emotional over the news of having a granddaughter. “We are going to have a granddaughter?” She asks and Harry nods as he lets his arm rest along the length of the sofa behind you. “We are.” He smiles. “We have put an offer in on a building on Reade Street.” He tells them. “My apartment isn’t suitable for raising a child, so we will build the perfect place.” He is excited about it, already speaking with architects about the design and the timeline.
His parents listen intently, excited and logical as usual. Clearly Harry got his business mind from them as they discuss what building out commercial and residential units could rent for and the overheads of the building. “I want a greenhouse. That’s my request.” You announce and his mom looks at you, “oh I used to have roses when I lived in Connecticut.” She coos and she smiles at you, “my grandmother was called Rosa so my mother wanted roses.” She explains and you smile, “that’s beautiful. Rosa. I love that name.” You look at Harry, “what do you think?”
He contemplates the name only for a second, seeing the sparkle in your eyes and he nods. “I think it’s perfect for our little girl.” He coos, smiling as he picks up your hand and kisses the back of it. “Why don’t we name her Rosa and use one of your family’s names for the middle?” He suggests, wanting to blend it and have your side honored as well.
His mother is beaming and you genuinely love the name. It fits perfectly and you will talk about a middle name from your side. “Rosa.” You smile at him and his parents glance at each other, seeing the way you look at Harry. There’s definitely something more there. “Dinner is ready.” The butler announces and Harry guides you into the dining room with his hand on the small of your back. “So you really aren’t planning on marrying?” His mother asks Harry as his father asks you about your business once you are seated.
“Mamá.” He groans softly. “I asked her.” He promises his traditional mother. She just doesn’t understand that not everyone gets married these days. “She doesn’t even want to be in a relationship with me.” He wants it, but he doesn’t want to push. Afraid that you might change your mind about co-parenting and he doesn’t want to fight you to see his baby girl. “I can’t force her to marry me.”
His mother tuts, “did you really ask her? Like with a ring?” She asks and he shakes his head, “I didn’t - she’s very stubborn. She knows what she wants. Shiny things won’t convince her and I don’t want her to marry me if it’s not real.” He confesses softly, glancing at you as you continue talking to his father. “I think you would make a beautiful couple.” She says but concedes when the appetizer is brought out.
Dinner is a lighthearted affair. Since you cannot drink, his mother has some of his favorite sparkling juices brought out. Reminiscing about how he and Peter would pretend it was champagne when they were younger. You seemed to be amused by that and Harry knows you will give him shit later on. After dessert, he tells his parents he wants to get you home. You’ve been tired lately and he doesn’t want to keep you out. When getting your coats, his dad pulls him to the side. “Son, I’ve never meddled like your mother.” He says. “But you need to convince that woman to marry you.” He is quiet, not wanting to be overhead as he wraps his arm around his son’s shoulder. “She is perfect for you.”
Harry nods, knowing he can’t convince you to do anything. You’re stubborn and you may not hate him anymore but you certainly don’t love him. “Sure, papa.” He murmurs, making his way over to you as you shrug on your jacket. “It was so great to meet you both.” You smile and bid goodbye to Harry’s parents. His mom raises her eyebrows at her son who nods, knowing what she wants but he can’t give that to her. “Your parents are nice.” You say on the ride home, “you can tell they worked hard for what they have.” You fidget with the button on your jacket. “Compared to me?” Harry guesses your next shot at him but you shake your head, turning to look at him, “you’ve worked hard too. You had a silver spoon but I’ve seen how hard you work, Harry. Nepo babies might get a head start in life but working hard to keep ahead? Not all of them are cut out for that.”
He’s surprised by the way you give him an honest compliment. “Thank you.” He murmurs softly. He reaches for your hand and squeezes it gently. “I want our daughter, and you, to have everything.” He says honestly. “If that means you work, I will support you. If that means you stay home with her, I’ll make sure you never have to worry about anything.” He’s sure you wouldn’t want to be a stay at home mother, but he wants to offer it to you. “I promise I will support whatever you want.”
You sigh and look down at your connected hands, noticing how well they fit. “I would like to try working but if I cannot look after her properly or I am not present, then we can talk about having help or me staying at home. I do want to try and do both though. If I can. I love my work but I also want to be the best mom I can.” You look back at him, “let’s see how it goes. Then we can figure it all out.”
He nods seriously. “Of course.” He squeezes your hand gently. He doesn’t mention that he would gladly pay to have you stay home, that has to be your choice or you will resent him for giving up your career. He wants to lean in and kiss you but he just smiles. “My parents love you. I think they love you more than me now.” He jokes. “My mother will probably call you tomorrow to take you maternity clothes shopping.”
“Made a better impression on them than you the first time, huh?” You tease and he rolls his eyes, remembering when the words, ‘nepo baby’ first left your lips. “I need maternity clothes. My jeans don’t fit anymore. I am not just wearing leggings the entire pregnancy. My clients wouldn’t appreciate that.” You snort and Harry chuckles, “I think you look hotter in leggings.” You smirk, “oh yeah, Castillo? Maybe leggings aren’t that bad.” You tease and lean back into the seat. The lines are getting blurred with Harry and you don’t know how to redraw them.
****
“A vacation? I can’t take a vacation. I have too much to do.” You tell Harry over dinner, “that’s really nice of your parents but we still need to pick out the flooring for the new place and she needs a crib and I need a breast pump and she really booked for us to go away for a week?” You ask Harry after hearing the news that his mom and dad have paid for you to go on a ‘baby moon’. Harry sees how flustered you are, six months pregnant. “You can’t take the time off from work either, right?” You ask, knowing he’s always busy working. All hours of the day.
“I think we should go.” Harry admits. He’s seen how stressed you are. How you are trying to be superwoman and do everything yourself. “We can pick out the flooring tonight after dinner, we have a thousand samples.” He jokes, nodding towards the crate of building materials you have ordered from the contractors to pick out what you want. “We can shop online for the crib.” His eyes flicker down to your breasts, grown larger since pregnancy. “And…..we don’t need a pump right now, do we?” He asks. “It’s a week to relax. Massages, laying around and reading. Being pampered.”
You bite your lip, imagining it, being on a beach with Harry. Harry wearing swimming trunks, shirtless. Mocktails and sun. You hum, tapping your finger on the table. “Let’s do it. I’ll send your parents some flowers and a nice bottle of wine to say thank you. Really, they are spoiling us.” You look up at Harry, “I really need a vacation.” You confess, knowing you’ve tried so long to be hyper independent, even during your pregnancy you don’t ask Harry for help. You try to keep your distance but it’s getting harder with every night you spend in bed alone with him down the hall.
“Great.” He flashes you a smile, happy you are agreeing to go. The tickets are non-refundable and he’s honestly hoping that this trip will help bridge the gap between you. He’s been attentive, considerate. Yet it seems like you are still not willing to give him a chance. “We can go, be lazy and recharge before Rosa comes.” He wants to take your hand again, but he reaches for his glass of water instead.
****
“God, this place is gorgeous.” You gasp when you step onto the balcony of the beachfront villa his parents rented for you and Harry. It’s within a resort but you’re afforded privacy as well as a team of staff to look after you during your visit. You inhale the fresh air and tilt your head towards the sun, “I really want to go swimming, feel weightless for once since my bump is getting heavier.” You caress the bump in question and sense Harry step beside you.
“Then why don’t we change and go swimming?” He asks, thinking that you already look more relaxed than you have in months. He’s eager to see you in a swimsuit. It will be the most undressed he’s seen you since the night you spent together. Even at the doctor, you were covered. He steps out when you have to get dressed in the little gowns for examinations, to give you privacy. Although here, privacy will be in short supply. His mother had booked a single bed, large and luxurious, but only one. You will have to share it for the vacation.
“That sounds amazing.” You inhale deeply and turn to walk into the closet. Your suitcase has already been opened for you so you shift through it to find your bag of bikinis. You figure you might as well show off the bump while you’re here. “Harry, do you need the bathroom or can I get changed?” You ask and he says “no you’re good. Go ahead.” You make your way into the bathroom, peeing and getting yourself ready to go swimming. You figure Harry will get changed in the closet and soon you come out in your coverup to make your way down to the pool where Harry already has towels and drinks waiting for you. “You’re too good to me, Castillo.” You groan, reaching for the sparkling juice, “champagne.” You tease and he snorts, rolling his eyes under his sunglasses. “I’m really glad we did this.” You murmur, glancing around at your private pool.
“Me too.” He has started drinking less, so his own glass has sparkling juice in it as well. He takes a sip and sighs. “I looked at the services they offer. What do you think about scheduling a couple’s massage? They have one marketed for an expecting couple.” Apparently baby moons are fashionable and the resort is very accommodating.
Your eyebrows raise, “they have that? Shit. We are in the wrong business, baby. Baby moons are good money.” You tease and he snorts, nodding. You reach for the hem of your coverup after setting your drink down. You need to cool off and a dip in the pool sounds incredible.
He’s glad he’s wearing sunglasses to hide the way his eyes widen. Staring at the gorgeous curve of your stomach and the way your tits nearly pop out of your top. He’s glad that the pool is private or he would get in trouble for cursing some gawking asshole out. Right now, he’s the only gawking asshole.
You are unaware of him gawking at you and you step into the water, holding the railing as you sink into the gorgeous pool. “Oh shit.” You moan, shifting to float and you feel weightless for the first time in a while. “Harry. You need to get in here.” You call out, closing your eyes as the sun shines down on you.
“With pleasure.” He mutters to himself as he climbs off the lounger and pulls off the open Hawaiian shirt he had thrown on over his swim trunks. The length of the shorts hide the scars, but he’s not nearly as uneasy as he might have been with someone else. You already know, and so far, you haven’t said anything insulting about it. You are floating on the water and he smiles as he steps into the pool, groaning at the cool, refreshing water. “We could always put a pool in the basement.” He groans as he sinks down to his chest.
You hum, “now that’s the best idea you’ve ever had.” You say and he snorts, wading over to you, and you shift when he’s hovering over you. “Blocking the sun with your big ass head, babe.” You huff playfully and he chuckles, shifting out of the sun. “Can we really put a pool in?” You ask and Harry replies, “you can have whatever your heart desires.” The tone in his voice has you shifting to your feet and you look at him. His chest is on display, glistening with the droplets of water and suddenly your mouth is dry. He looks edible. It’s hard to deny to yourself that you have been incredibly attracted to Harry - even more so since you became pregnant. You have been satisfying yourself but it’s never been enough. “You, uh, you don’t look too bad in trunks, Castillo.” You rasp, throat croaking a little as you try not to eye fuck him.
“Not nearly as good as you look in a bikini.” He promises with a grin. You snort and huff in disbelief, your hand going to the large swell of your stomach. Rubbing it like it’s a lamp and inside is a genie. “Seriously.” He insists. “I’m glad we’re in a private pool. I get to keep this view for myself.”
You smirk, “you created the view so I guess you can keep it to yourself.” You reason before you gasp, “oh she’s kicking.” You reach for his hand, pressing it to your belly, and he grins like he always does when he feels her. “Hey Rosalita.” He murmurs, always in awe of feeling his daughter kick. “It’s daddy. I’m right here with your mama.” He coos and you cover his hand with yours, “Harry.” You whisper and he looks up at you, “would you hate me if I told you that I don’t hate you anymore?” You ask softly, meeting his dark gaze after glancing at the ocean.
Harry swallows harshly, biting his lip as he feels his heart skip a beat. He wants this so badly but he doesn’t want to screw it up. “No.” He shakes his head. “I don’t hate you, either.” He hasn’t for a long time, maybe he had never hated you. “I want-“ he pauses and sighs softly. “I want to give us a chance.” He admits. “I want to kiss you, baby.”
You stare at him, trying to see if he’s messing with you but all you see is the truth in his eyes. “Kiss me.” You order, letting go of his hand, and you tilt your head when he leans in to softly brush your lips with his. Your hands cup his cheeks, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss.
He’s slow, gentle with this kiss. Knowing everything that is riding on it. One hand on your waist, the other is sliding up your back, holding your neck as he slowly slides his tongue into your mouth. Tasting you again, this time without a drop of alcohol in his system, but he feels like he’s drunk on you.
You don’t know how much time passes with him kissing you, the sun beaming down on you as his tongue caresses yours. It’s like something from a movie and you are almost dizzy from how he’s making you feel. He eventually pulls back, nudging his nose against yours. “Shit.” He murmurs and you giggle, “yeah. Shit.” He caresses your cheek and you lean back to look at him. “I want to try this too. I want you, Harry. I’m sorry. For everything I’ve ever said. These past few months…you’ve proven what a good man you are and I couldn’t have asked for a better man to be the father to my child. I want you.” You confess, sliding your hands down his chest.
“Are you sure?” He wants nothing more than to take you back to the room and spread you out. To see if it feels any different now than what he remembers from that night. He’s thought about it so many times. His hand around his cock and his release not nearly as satisfying as it had been when he filled you up. “Because I don’t just want to be with you, I want to touch you. Taste you. Spend this week making you cum on every surface of our room. Memorizing the way you cry out my name.” He nudges his nose against yours. “Is that what you want, beautiful?”
You inhale shakily, lust hitting you hard at his words, and you can’t help but whimper. Your hormones have been raging and you desperately want him. “Yes.” You respond breathily, “I need you. I’ve - I’ve thought about it so many times. I need you Harry. Please, I want you to fuck me.” You slide your hand lower until you can cup the bulge in his trunks.
He groans, cock twitching in your hand. “Fuck.” He hisses, hands sliding up to unhook the metal clasp of your bikini top. Exposing your tits to his hungry eyes and cupping them gently. “Can I?” He asks, having read some women’s breasts are too sensitive during pregnancy and breast feeding. You want to pump, but he doesn’t know if that will last.
You’ve never been more grateful for the private villa and you nod, “please, baby.” You plead and he squeezes them, making you throw your head back in a moan. “Shit. Yes. More.” You beg, squeezing him through his trunks as he starts to harden. You need him. Desperately.
He guides you towards the edge of the pool, hands holding your breasts before he’s cupping one. Lifting it up and ducking his head down to suck one nipple into his mouth. Loving how you cry out and grab the back of his head. He groans your name against your skin.
You tug on his hair and he lifts his head to look at you, stopping his sucking. “Don’t you dare stop, Castillo.” You demand, pushing him back towards your breast and he chuckles, eagerly sucking your nipple back into his mouth. “Fuck. That feels so good.” You pant, leaning back against the cool tile of the pool. Your free hand caresses his shoulder, loving how he feels under your touch.
Harry loves how responsive you are. How you whimper and moan as he suckles and bites down gently on the sensitive bud. As he lavishes your tits with attention, his hands pull on the string of your bottom. Thanking God that you had worn something that can come off so easily and his hand caresses over your stomach.
He’s overwhelming you in the best way, completely devouring you to make your head spin. “Ha- Harry. Oh God.” You moan when his hand slides lower to cup your pussy. You’re wet for him. A natural reaction to the gorgeous man who is the father of your child. Your cry sounds almost painful when he slides his fingers through your folds. You fumble to loosen his trunks so you can reach in, groaning in victory when your fingers wrap around his hardening cock.
“Fuck.” He pulls off your nipple to pant out a curse. Needing to have more of you. Your hand on his cock is good but he wants to feel you around him. “I need to-“ his fingers push inside you, curling up and sinking deep as he kisses you again.
You slowly pump him, working him in your fist as he thrusts his fingers into your pussy. “Shit, baby. Your fingers feel so good. So much better than mine.” You confess against his lips until he kisses along your jaw, “you’re so- shit. Harry. Keep - keep doing that.” You ramble as he curls them just right.
He hums, feeling your walls clench down around his digits and he loves it. His lips ghosting over your pulse as he continues to work you closer to your first orgasm of the trip. “Going to baby.” He coos. “Want you to cum for me.”
You pant, worked higher and higher by his digits until his wrist twists so he can press his thumb to your clit. “Oh fuck!” You cry, glad you’re in water so you don’t collapse as he pushes you over the edge, clamping down on his fingers within a few pumps.
He feels the heat, the liquid slick of your cum on his fingers. Groaning as he kisses your rapid pulse while he works you through it. “Fuck baby, that’s it, that’s it.” He moans. “Cum for me.”
You are glad he's trapped you between his body and the edge of the pool, your hand squeezing his bicep and you pant, "baby. That's - fuck. So good." You are dazed, the orgasm has you flying high and you just come back to yourself enough to wrap your fingers around Harry's cock.
“Are you good, baby?” He asks softly. Wanting to make sure that you want more. “You want to stop?” You squeeze him and he groans your name in a whimper. “Trying to- to be con-considerate.” He pants out when you give him an almost annoyed look. Like he’s stupid for suggesting that you stop.
You huff, “stop being so nice to me, baby. You’re going to give me a complex.” You tease and he chuckles. You stop your hand movement, reminded of something and you look at him with a serious expression. “I hate to kill the mood but did you get tested after Lucy? I just - with the baby. I want to be safe. Keep her safe.”
He understands your worry and he’s not insulted. Even if he believes that Lucy isn’t the type of woman to sleep around and not get tested, he had still gotten checked after their relationship ended. He had gone a couple of days after finding out that he was going to be a father. He had gotten tested after you too. “Yes.” He promises seriously. “Everything is negative. All clear.”
You trust him, knowing he wouldn’t put the baby at risk, and you surge forward to press your lips to his. Muttering against them, “then fuck me. I need you.” You demand as you reach back down to take his cock in your hand, pumping him under the water.
Harry groans against your lips, aching to be inside you. He reaches down and lifts up your leg to prop on his hip. “Don’t want to hurt you.” He’s never had sex with a pregnant woman before and your stomach is large between you.
You nod and release your grip on his cock, "you won't. Lemme - lemme lean back." You lift your other leg up and brace yourself against the edge of the pool. "Wanna feel you, baby." You whine, getting a little desperate for something you've wanted secretly for months.
He groans, watching you lean back and your stomach sticks up above the water. “I think you are so sexy.” He promises you. “You look so good filled with my baby.” His own hand is around his cock, pressing through your folds. “So goddamn possessive of you like this.” He coos. “Makes me feel like a caveman, knowing I gave you a baby. I did this.”
He teases you, rubbing your clit with the head of his cock, and you whine out, "you did this. Didn't - was told it was impossible but you did this." You pant out your reply, "fuck, Harry. I need - imagined this for so long. Even when I didn't want to admit that. Please." You whimper and it transitions into a gasp when he slowly starts to push into you.
He’s keeping it slow. The sinking of his cock into your pussy is achingly slow, watching your face as your mouth drops open. Filling you, stretching you out around him as your tight walls try to strangle his cock. “Fuck baby.” He hisses, hand gripping your hip and the other around your lower back to keep you poised perfectly to take him. “So goddamn perfect.”
You pant, eyes fluttering closed at the way he stretches you out. “Ha-Harry. You feel - oh God.” You whine, getting accommodated to the stretch and you slide your hands along his shoulders and down his arms then back. “Imagined this so many times.” You confess, lost in the lust.
“Every damn night.” He groans, eyes closed and he’s fucking thrilled that this pool is private and no one can see him fuck you. You get to bask in the sun, the cool weightless water and let him make you cum. He squeezes your tit gently before moving down to rub your clit. “Wanted to sleep with you.”
“You will now, baby.” You promise, panting when he rubs your clit exactly how you like. “I want you in my bed every night. It’s been lonely. Pregnant and - and in bed alone.” You confess, knowing you’ve wanted comfort when you’ve been scared and anxious about having the baby. You haven’t expressed those worries to Harry. “Wanted you to hold me.”
“I’ll hold you.” He promises. He’s had his own worries, his own fears about this journey, but he knows they are nothing compared to your own fears. “Right now I want you to cum.” He grunts. “Cum on my cock, baby.”
You moan, brought back to how he feels and he thrusts a little faster, his thumb rubbing your clit in tandem with his thrusts. You’re so sensitive since you got pregnant, able to make yourself cum quicker than before and Harry is no exception. “Fuck baby! I - I’m gonna - you’re gonna make me-” You squeal his name as you fall apart for him.
Harry groans as he watches you fall apart. Loving how vocal you are and how tight you clench down around. “That’s it, fuck baby, you’re so fucking pretty.” He coos as he rocks into you. His finger presses against your clit, but he doesn’t rub, knowing you might be overstimulated.
You would have never admitted it to him but he knows how to fuck. He was the best sex you’ve ever had. Attentive and hungry for your body, you thought about him a lot. “Harry-” You cut yourself off by pressing your lips to his.
He presses his lips to yours eagerly, his tongue tangling with yours. Kissing you with everything that he wants to say, hasn’t been able to voice since the day he showed up drunk at your door. The baby kicks him and he chuckles.
You giggle, “she knows her daddy.” You tease and clench around him, making him groan. “I want to ride you. On the lounger.” You reveal, wanting to be able to make him cum.
He smirks and slowly pulls out of you. “Whatever you want.” He promises. “I don’t mind you riding my cock. Last time, you made my toes curl.” He thinks about how you look and he wonders if he won’t like this new view more because you are with him. This is more than just one night. This is the beginning of something.
You grin wickedly at his confession. “Yeah? You want me to try that again, Haroldo?” You tease and he huffs, “don’t call me that.” You smirk as you wade over to the stairs, “what do you want me to call you? Baby? Babe? Honey? Daddy?” You test out with a giggle when he wrinkles his nose at the last one as he quickly walks up the steps ahead of you to help you out of the pool.
It takes you a moment to steady yourself, but soon he is sitting on the lounger and wrapping his hand around his cock. “You wanna sit on this cock, baby?” He smirks. “You are looking at it like you do. Come make yourself cum on it again.”
His words make you shiver, cunt clenching around nothing and you take his free hand so you can straddle him. His cock still in his hand as he jerks it. “You know, I think the reason why you were short was because all the height went to your dick.” You smirk, batting his hand away to take over the motion and you squeeze him.
He huffs, shooting you a sour look, but there’s no heat behind it. You don’t care that he’s had the surgery, but you love his cock. “I guess that’s the most important thing, huh?” He asks, grunting your name when you start to pump him. “Want to cum inside you again.” He groans softy. “Fucking loved how it felt, how you felt.”
You love how he groans, how desperate he is for you. You shift closer, your bump between you as you notch him at your entrance and slowly sink down onto him. “Holy shit, baby.” You pant, he feels bigger like this and your hands slide along his arms until you can grip his shoulders.
“That’s it.” Harry groans, your tits in his face. “Want me to suck on these while you ride me?” He pants, cupping your breasts. “Fuck, please.” You whimper, feeling like they are going to pop, they ache so much. “Ride me and I’ll take care of you.” He leans forward, huffing when his face is buried between your tits and he starts to kiss and suck on the skin of each one.
The fingers of one hand tangle in his hair and you whimper when he bites down on your nipple. “Oh God.” You pant, starting to rock your hips. His cock presses against a part of you your fingers can’t reach and you rest your head on top of his as you lift up on his cock to sink back down.
He moans against your skin, loving how you take from him. You don’t apologize for needing sex, for enjoying it. His eyes flicker up to your face as he twitches inside you. The gorgeous warm sun glistening on your wet skin and you look beautiful as you bounce on his cock.
He’s driving you crazy but in a good way this time. You pant his name, grinding onto his cock, and you grab his hair, tilting his head so you can press your lips to his. Your tongue slides against his and you moan into his mouth when his hand cups your breast, squeezing it.
He loves how passionate you are. Even when you were spitting and fighting with him, it was with spirit. He much prefers this though. His hips shift up, meeting the roll of yours and he loves how deep he feels inside you. Next time, he’s going to fuck you through the entire pregnancy. A thought that nearly makes him bust right then as he groans into your mouth.
You swallow his groan, loving how he thrusts up into you, making your tits bounce. “Ha-Harry. Do that again.” You order, grinding down onto him as he thrusts up into you. A squeal escapes your lips at the way he hits something inside you and you are pushed closer to the edge. “Again. That’s - that’s gonna make me cum.”
“Do it.” He begs, breaking away from your mouth so he can hear your sounds. He doesn’t care if the entire resort hears. He wants them too. Wants them to know that he’s fucking you. “Do it for me. Cum baby.” He keeps doing exactly what you asked, his own orgasm so close that he’s panting as he kisses along your throat. “Cum.” He demands, feeling his own body tense up and he knows he can’t hold back any more.
You cry out, clamping down on his cock and falling forward against him as he thrusts up into you. “Oh my God.” You squeal when you feel his cock throb, his hot cum spilling into your pussy and your fingers tangle in hair, rocking your hips to ride your orgasm and milk him of his.
Your belly prevents him from pulling you against him as tight as he would want to. Moaning your name as he closes his eyes and pants, forehead pressing against your shoulder as he caresses your back gently. “Fuck.” He huffs, smiling as he starts to kiss your damp skin. “Fuck. I love you.” He murmurs softly.
Your eyes widen, still hazy with lust, and you cup his cheeks, tilting his head towards yours. “You- you do?” You ask and he nods, “I do.” You stare at him, “are you serious? It’s not just the sex because I can’t - I don’t think I could handle you taking that back once we are dressed and the sex has faded be-because I love you too and I’m not just saying that. I love you, Harry. I didn’t when we were fighting but then I moved in and I saw you. The real you. How sweet you are, how giving, how you are with your friends and family. The way you make me two breakfasts because the baby wanted pancakes and then bacon and eggs. The way you look reading those baby books on your iPad with your glasses perched on your nose. I love you and if you are just saying it because we had sex, I need you to tell me now so I don’t let the hope destroy me.”
Harry sighs softly and leans back against the lounger, staring at you seriously. His cock is still buried in your pussy, softening but he doesn’t move you off of him. He likes being connected to you. “I’m not saying it because of the sex.” He promises, reaching for your hand and putting it on your belly to cover with his. “I’m not saying it because of our baby either.” He knows that will be the next question you have. You bite your lip, still unsure and he smiles as he looks at you. “Do you know why I came to your apartment that day?” He asks. “To blame me for something.” You snort and he chuckles. “Yeah.” He nods. “I was blaming you because I couldn’t love Lucy.” He admits. “I couldn’t love her because I was already in love with you. You had already driven me crazy and occupied that space. I was shit at showing it, and I fucking left that night we slept together because. I was scared of it. Scared of you just laughing when you found out that I had fallen in love with you.” He shakes his head. “When I said we have to get married…I meant that I wanted to. And when you said you wanted nothing to do with me romantically….” He swallows. “I decided that I would just be here for you and our baby however you would let me. But I would try to give you both the world. Not because I have to, but because I love you and I want a life with you.”
You blink as tears well in your eyes, looking at him for any sign of deception but you find nothing but love in his eyes. Tears fall without your permission and Harry reaches up with his free hand to gently wipe them away with his thumb. “I love you and I want a life with you too. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to realize it. I thought you hated me when we slept together that night. I thought it was the alcohol.” He shakes his head and you lean into his touch when he cups your cheek, “and I didn’t marry you because I didn’t want you to do it out of duty. You are a man of expectations because of your parents and the last thing I wanted was a fake marriage to appease society. Now though? I’d love nothing more than to be your wife. To have our family together officially. I want you, Harry. Even when you lose your hair and I get wrinkles that even Botox can’t fix, I want us. Our life together.”
Harry chuckles softly and leans forward to nudge his nose against yours. “I don’t like needles.” He admits ironically. “Figured that out when I had the surgery.” He rolls his eyes when you giggle and he sighs softly. “We’ll get married when we want. But I want you to be my wife. And I want more kids.” He admits. “If we can have them. If not, Rosa is going to be spoiled rotten by my parents.”
You sigh and lean back, “I don’t know. I was told that I’d need IVF to have a baby. I would need to have my eggs frozen but I didn’t think- Rosa is my miracle. Maybe we can try again naturally but it might not be possible.” You warn him and he cups your cheek, “I am happy with you and Rosa. Any other babies are a blessing and your decision.” He promises and you nod, turning your head to kiss his palm. “I love you.” You whisper and he gives you a smile that makes the world melt away and all that’s left is you and him.
****
Harry sighs as he rubs your back gently, letting you cry out your tears of frustration and fears. The wedding band that is on his finger is two years old, something he proudly wears as both a status symbol and a promise to you. His love and commitment to you and the life you have built together. Rosa is napping, the two and a half year old playing herself out and he’s glad that she’s not here to see her mother cry. She’s sensitive and then Harry would have both of the women he loves most in the world streaming tears down their beautiful faces. “Baby.” He kneels down on the marble floor of the bathroom, not caring that you are technically seated on the damn toilet with the used pregnancy test in your hand, unable to look at the results. “I think that we should stop treatments.” He suggests softly. “No matter what that test says.”
You blink through your tears, looking at your husband, and you choke on a sob. "You - you want to stop?" You ask and he stares at you with those brown eyes. "You are making yourself sick. I can't - I don't want to lose you to this. I love you and I love Rosa. That's enough for me." You stare at him, "but - but I wanted to give you a son. I wanted - I want to make you happy." You choke, knowing he'd be so pleased with a son. One more child to complete your family and you desperately want to give that to him even if he's not demanding it.
Part of him wishes that he had never made that comment about more kids while you were on the baby moon. You had taken it to heart and it’s been over a year of IVF, fertility appointments, disappointment and tears. He’s supported you, held you while you cried and tried to do everything he can to reduce your stress, but he thinks that it’s time to stop. “You make me happy.” He promises. “You and Rosa. Our little girl is healthy and thriving. I want her mother to be just as healthy. Just as happy. I don’t want to see you cry.” He reaches up to brush away another tear. “I hate seeing you cry. I just want you. Just you, baby.”
You sniff, still gripping the test, and you look at him as he kneels in front of you. So different from the man who would openly mock you in your feud. Now, he looks at you like you've hung the moon and your heart melts, knowing he's telling the truth. Nodding, you whisper, "okay." He smiles, reassuring and soft, and reaches over to grab some toilet paper so you can wipe your eyes and blow your nose. You feel exhausted from trying. Sex is more like a chore and you want to get back to having fun with your husband. No longer rushing to his office to fuck him and leaving immediately after because you're ovulating. "We still have the test." You look down at the stick in your hand, "can you look at it?" You ask, knowing this will be your final disappointment.
He sighs again, almost telling you that you should just throw it out. But he nods and reaches for it cautiously. His own disappointments have been pushed aside to support you, but he knows he will feel this one. Closing the door on seeing you round with his child again. He smiles at you, reassuring you before he turns the test over and stares at it in disbelief. ‘Pregnant’, the screen reads and he huffs out a shocked chuckle. “Jesus Christ.”
“What?” You gasp, snatching the test from his hand, and you stare at it in shock. “Oh my God.” You choke, tears in your eyes again but these are happy tears. “Ha-Harry. I’m - we are having another baby.” You sob, reaching for him to press your lips to his. He grins against your lips, cupping your cheek and the back of your neck.
“Another baby.” He echoes, kissing you once more before deepening the kiss. His tongue sliding into your mouth eagerly. He’s happy, over the moon that you are going to have another baby with him. Swallowing down your happy giggles until he is pulling back with another peck to your lips. “I love you.” He promises softly. “You are the most valuable thing I will ever have. You and our children.
You slide your hands down to his chest, “I love you. So much. Way more than I ever hated you.” You tease and he chuckles, nudging his nose against yours. “I want to wait to tell our family.” You murmur and he hums in understanding, knowing you’ll be nervous. “But then we can tell your mom and dad and you’ll be the favorite over Peter again.” You tease and he smirks, “now that sounds promising.” You giggle and press your forehead to his. “Thank you. For this life. It’s more than I ever imagined.” You confess and he smiles, “you deserve the world.” He promises and you hear feet padding along the bedroom floor.
“Mommy?” Rosa calls out and you turn to look at your daughter. “Come here, baby girl.” You order, wiping your face, Harry shifting so he can lift his daughter onto his knee while he’s kneeling down. “Why you crying?” She asks and you push her hair out of her face, messy from her nap. “Happy tears baby.” You promise, looking at Harry for a second. You’ll tell her soon once you’re past the first trimester. She’s too young to understand if anything happens to the baby.
“You hungry, sweetheart?” Harry asks, “I’ll make you and Mommy some lunch.” You appreciate your husband even more at this moment. “Yep.” She nods her head just like Harry, making you chuckle. “How about we eat lunch and then you can help Mommy water the plants in the greenhouse?” You ask and she nods, eyes lighting up. She loves spending time with you on the roof top garden. Harry grins, leaning in to kiss her hair. He’s got everything he ever wanted and it all started with a meeting he never wanted with a woman he thought he hated. What is it they say? There’s a fine line between love and hate.
2087
dailybridgerton
vaporwave
izzy806
blakekathryn
andulkaphoto
tangentwithtanner
pixelskylines
discoholicmusic
stormborns
