Achilles Heel

30. Astar - Russian Roulette

This is the final part of the triple update. If you have yet to read chapters 28 & 29, I would go back and read those first. Thank you so much. Kisses for all of you<3

Warning: Use of a LOADED gun during sex. Please be safe if using a gun during sex. Make sure it’s unloaded if using it for these purposes. Don’t play with death like Harry and Astar. Thank you. <3

My chest rises and falls with quick succession, moving to tuck a piece of my hair behind my ear as I let the blood coated piece of glass fall from my hand. The pain has become a numb sensation at this point, rubbing the blood down the front of the lilac jumper since it is Harry’s after all. That’s what he gets for killing Rodney.

I use my elbows to push myself up off of the wall, picking little stray pieces of the lilac jumper out of the open wound on my hand. I then move my attention down to the floor, carefully stepping around the broken pieces that lay there. Once I have successfully done that, I quickly make my way towards the door of the music room.

I give one last look to the piano that sits in the middle of the room, it’s just such an intricate design that I can’t take my eyes off of it. Now that I know it’s here though, I know that I can come back and snoop around. It’s obvious that Harry could care less about this room. He won’t mind if I snoop around, possibly play a song or two on the piano.

The door shuts quietly behind me, quickly making my way down the long hallway and through the den before ascending the stairs. All of this couldn’t have taken me more than three minutes max.

Although I do run into Louis on the way up, nearly falling back as I run into his chest.

“Can’t talk!” I rush out, giving him a bright smile before I brush past him, feeling Louis’ eyes follow me right to Harry’s bedroom.

I can hear him laughing, the sound descending down the stairs with Louis’ and my cheeks waste no time in starting to heat up. There’s no doubt that by the end of this, all of the boys will know exactly what’s happening. I’m going to be teased relentlessly for days.

I’ll just remind Louis that he came to getting me off. He has no fucking room to talk.

I stop right outside of Harry’s door, just staring at it for a few moments as the nerves enter my stomach, causing it to flip back and forth in a way. I don’t know what to expect. This is the first time I’ll actually be alone with Harry. There won’t be any interruptions. No time limit.

The past few times I have been able to overpower him, however, something tells me that this won’t be the case this time. It’s obvious Harry only shows his submissive side at certain times. His dominant side is something that has taken the breath right from my lungs, leaving me breathless and struggling to breathe.

Harry is like any other boy--no, man. Harry is like any other man that I have ever been with.

My hand comes up to wrap around the doorknob, twisting it before using my hand to push the door open. I let out the breath that I didn’t know I was holding upon realising that Harry has yet to arrive.

This gives me time to clean up the blood from my hand, he’s probably taking the time to clean himself up as well. He probably thought I’d sneak around some more instead of coming straight up here.

The first thing I do is walk into the en suite and turn the tap on, bringing my hands under the stream of water so that I can sufficiently clean up the wound and get a good look at it. Thankfully it isn’t too deep and is already starting to scab over. I won’t need stitches like Harry’s neck will.

I then pull the jumper to the side just to look at the gunshot wound on my shoulder, wincing slightly once I see just how irritated it is. I just know Liam is probably going to have a few choice words with me once he gets an eyeful of it. It isn’t my fault, he should project his disappointment on Harry.

Right as I exit the en suite, the closet door is being pushed open and Harry is exiting, a small groan escaping his lips when he catches sight of me.

“What?” I question, bringing my arms up to cross over my chest. I can’t stop the corners of my lips from coming up to form a smirk. It’s unstoppable. I love seeing the look of defeat on his face. He shouldn’t underestimate me.

Harry brings the revolver up once again, pointing it in my direction as he chuckles. “You...” He breathes out, letting his eyes slowly wander over my body. His gaze is slow as if he’s picturing exactly what I look like under these clothes that he has provided for me. Harry takes his lower lip between his teeth as he saunters towards me, keeping the gun trained on me as he does so. He never lowers it.

My stomach tightens a bit, shifting from one leg to the other as he finally reaches me, using the revolver to push a stray piece of hair back behind my ear.

“You’re such a vision,” He breathes, sounding damn close to breathless as he speaks.

He sounds like that every time he gets me alone and invades my space.

I tear my gaze away from the revolver to meet his gaze, feeling him start to walk us backwards until my back hits the door.

I thought we would be making our way towards the bed, instead, he was letting the revolver make its way down the side of my face until he stops touching me altogether.

“Unfortunately, we’re in the wrong room, darling,” The smirk on his face is a devious one as he moves, stepping to the side which allows me to move as well so that he can open the door for us.

He’s laughing the next minute, moving his hand forward to gesture that I should walk out of the room first, so I do and step to the side. I know my face is one of confusion, I can feel it.

I don’t have anything else to focus on, so I keep my focus on harry. His hand comes to place the revolver into the band of his jeans, then moving that hand down to reach into his pocket. I follow after him with ease, noticing that we’re walking down to the end of the hallway.

The key unlocks the room and Harry steps off to the side, gesturing for me to enter first.

“What a gentleman...” I drown off, not even able to finish my sarcastic comment because I’m mesmerised by the room before me.

There’s a mirror right above the massive bed, a bed that is clothed in silk sheets that are dark red, the colour of blood in a way. The walls are completely black along with the curtains, not allowing any light instead. The only light that is available are the red LEDs.

For once I’m speechless, easily recognising this as a red room.

The more I walk into the room, the more things that I notice. There are handcuffs at each side of the headboard then also a set near the pillows, where you can decide if you want your arms to be up against the headboard or down against the bed. All I can think about at that moment is tying Harry up to the bed and riding him into oblivion, or possibly even torturing him by tying him up and letting someone else please me.

My eyes wander down to the foot of the bed, noticing a led spreader and handcuffs at the end of the bed as well. There’s a couch at the end of the bed up against the wall, no doubt for others to watch if they were present and something about an audience made me clench my thighs together. However, tonight I wanted--no, needed it to be just the both of us.

“Do you like what you see?” Harry’s voice breaks the silence that has filled the room, turning to face him right as he walks over to a closet. As he pulls it open, my eyes nearly fall from my head at the plethora of toys that he has.

There’s a paddle hanging from the inside of the door, a whip, riding crop, handcuffs, rope and on the other side of the door there’s a ball gag and some toys that I don’t even recognise. There’s a chest sitting in the middle of the closet, one that I know is filled to the brim with other toys.

I’m speechless, unable to even offer Harry an answer to the question.

He speaks up again, repeating the question but this time he asks louder.

“I asked you a question, darling. Do you like what you see?” He speaks in a way that puts stress on every word that falls from his lips.


I offer him a small answer, the word falling from my lips in a way that shows that I’m speechless. Harry seems to catch onto this because he turns around, a little half tilt smirk gracing his lips.

“Finally, you’re actually being a good girl,” He sighs, keeping the closet propped open as makes his way over to me. He once again has the revolver in his hand. Harry’s face suddenly lights up as he places a hand on my waist. He walks me back until the back of my knees come into contact with the bed. “Lay back.”

His voice leaves very little room for argument, so I comply.

My eyes stay on his as I sit back on the bed, pushing myself back until my back is aligned with the pillows, not even thinking twice before I’m lifting the lilac jumper up over my head and tossing it onto the ground.

Harry is drinking me in, his grip on the gun turning his knuckles white. He doesn’t move from his spot at the end of the bed, just slowly lets his eyes roam over my now topless upper half, seeming to just come to a realization.

“Do you have devil horns on your belly button piercing?”

There’s no lying my way out of this one because I do in fact have devil horns on my belly button piercing. I’ve had this one since the heist in Monte Carlo. I’m surprised that it has taken him this long to notice, but then again Harry usually tries to pay as little attention to me as possible.

Harry moves to grasp onto the bottom of the black shirt, pulling it up over his head and tossing it carelessly to the side as well. It’s now lying somewhere on the ground with the lilac jumper.

Once he has his shirt off, each of his hands come to rest upon the best post, flexing his biceps as he keeps his eyes locked on me. The revolver is still in his hand and soon he’s climbing up onto the bed, placing the revolver against my ankle and letting it slowly travel up my body as he makes his way up the bed. “You’ve been so fucking naughty today,” He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he speaks, stopping once the revolver reaches my thigh. The revolver is now sitting on the bed, Harry’s hand coming to grip onto my thighs tightly to force them apart.

“Not only did you go through my room, touch my guns...but you also stayed to watch me kill someone.” His voice seems to just keep getting deeper the more he speaks and with that his words become slower, speaking at a pace that has my head spinning. He’s now face to face with me, moving to get comfortable between my legs as his nails dig into the flesh of my thighs. He roughly pulls me down against the bed so that I’m no longer sitting against the headboard, now my head is against the silk pillows and my bottom half is in his lap as he sits on his knees.

“Fancy a cheeky game with death?” He questions over my heavy breathing, hand falling from my thigh to grasp onto the revolver. Harry leans over to the side drawer, pulling out a singular bullet. I can see from here that his initials are carved into it. His eyes remain locked on me as he pops the cylinder of the revolver out, sliding the bullet right into the cylinder before he gives it a good spin and pops it back into place.

“Russian Roulette?” He questions, turning the revolver around so that the grip is facing me. He wants me to take the first shot.

I hesitate at first, racking my brain to remember where the bullet slotted into place, remembering just how many slots are there before doing the math in my head. If I shoot first, I know the bullet will end up going through Harry’s head in about two shots. That’s if my math is correct and I paid close attention.

I have a gut feeling that I’m right though.

“Does death turn you on?” I ask, not even questioning this dangerous little game he has decided to play with me. I pull down the hammer of the revolver, leaning up on my elbows before outstretching my arm so that the revolver is placed right against Harry’s forehead.

“Any final words, pretty boy?” I smirk, his eyes never waver. His breathing patterns don’t change. He’s as calm as ever as I pull the trigger. It clicks. Empty slot. The cylinder turns. Another empty slot.

I hand the gun back to Harry and now the barrel is right up against my forehead. I take this time to roll my hips upwards against Harry’s since I can feel his cock through his jeans and how thin the boxers are that I have on. The stimulation is more for me than him but he doesn’t need to know that.

Something about dancing the thin line between life or death has me desperate to be touched.

Harry’s hand actually wavers a bit this time, shifting some so that he’s pressing his hips forward against mine. This lets me know that he’s okay with what I’m doing.

His finger comes to clutch down on the trigger and once again a click fills the room. Empty slot. The cylinder turns. The gun is in my hand once more but instead of placing it against Harry’s head again, I roll my hips against Harry’s with more fever.

“You like this?”

Harry’s hands are back on my thighs, flattening them as they slowly trail up to the inside of my thighs. He’s silent yet his eyes are speaking volume, the look of hunger mixed with a little bit of annoyance is heavy in them.

“I’d prefer it if you were a good little bitch for me, apparently you’re not capable of being that,” he spits, hand coming up to force my jaw open. He’s hovering over me, his stomach muscles moving as he moves and there’s a string of saliva being pushed into my mouth as he spits. “Swallow,” he orders, forcing my mouth shut as he runs his free hand through my hair. He then wraps my hair around his hand and yanks my head back by my hair, his other hand coming up to rub at my throat so that I have to swallow.

“There we go,” He grins, “Such a little minx.” His eyes are dark green if there’s even really any green in them under the red light. They seem almost black but I can’t see. All I see is red.

I take this time to catch him off guard, pressing the gun right back against his temple. Before he even has a chance to react I’m pulling the trigger and letting the click echo throughout the bedroom. Empty slot. The cylinder turns once more. I wonder if Harry is sweating yet.

Does he like playing with death or is he just putting up a front?

I doubt Harry would want to leave his men behind. He seems far too attached to them for that, his family as well.

A gasp falls from my lips when I feel Harry shift so that his knee is right up against my clit. “Go on, darling. Ride it like the little dirty slut you are. That’s what you want, isn’t it? Take it,” he bites out, roughly throwing my head back as he releases my hair. Before I can even start to move my hips though he’s moving. I suppose he’s thought better of his offer but instead, he’s removing my boxers so that I’m left laying on the bed in nothing. With that he positions his knee right up against my clit again, the roughness of his denim black jeans making the drag hurt but it’s a hurt that pulls a deep-throated groan from me.

"Harry,” I shakily breathe out, not even caring that there’s a gun pressed right against my temple as I roll my hips up against his knee.

A click echoes throughout the room once more. Empty slot. The cylinder turns, the noise echoing throughout the room as well.

Harry is withdrawing his knee much to my dismay, my hips lifting up against the air as a whine tumbles from my lips before I can stop it. The pain was so fucking good.

“Ah, that isn’t my name.” He tsks, shaking his finger back and forth before reaching down to run his fingers over the knee that I was just moving against with need. “Ruined my jeans, darling. What a shame,” He says with disappointment, bringing his fingers up to his lips to clean them off. That simple little action always makes me force my thighs together. Something about knowing that he always has to taste me just sends me into overdrive.

“You can’t do anything fucking right can you?” He then scoffs, moving to force the gun into my hand. “You don’t know how to stay in your business, don’t know the right name to call me and you ruin my clothes. Is there anything you aren’t completely useless for?”

I move to place the gun in Harry’s face, nose scrunching up a bit. I know that the bullet is in the chamber but does Harry know? Did he do the same calculations that I did beforehand or is he just going with the flow?

Is this another test in a way? To see if I would take the chance to kill him if it were to arise?

Or am I just simply overthinking this and looking far too into it?

“Fucking shoot me,” he taunts, leaning forward a bit so that his temple is nearly right up against the barrel of the gun. “I know you know how to use a gun, darling. Don’t clam up on me now,”

He continues to taunt me, hurling insult after insult but all they do is go straight between my thighs and make me move to roll my hips up even though there’s no longer anything between my thighs to gain friction.

That alone is enough to piss me off but I move the gun off to the side a bit, pulling the trigger. Just like I thought, it fires, the sound echoing throughout the room.

Harry’s eyes are wide like he hadn’t expected the gun to actually fire. His chest is moving up and down quickly, nails digging into my thighs to the point that I’m sure he’s drawing blood but I can’t find it in myself to care. The pain of it all is just too fucking good. His eyes wander over my body, releasing the grip he has on my thighs before moving them slowly up my body. He lets his hand hover right over my pussy before passing it completely, running up my stomach, between my breasts before he’s gripping onto my jaw once again. His face is so fucking close.

His other hand comes up to take the gun from me, I half expect him to throw it but instead, he trails it back down my body.

I let my head roll back from his grip the second it looses, feeling him press the barrel of the gun right up against my clit. He’s rubbing it in small circular motions, bringing the hand down that was gripping my jaw before to my nipples. He grips onto the right one, tugging at it before leaning down to take it between his lips.

I’ve never met a man that seems to want to send a girl into overdrive before fucking them.

Harry has always felt the need to make sure he’s gotten multiple orgasms out of me before continuing. He even made sure of that during the threesome--well, foursome. I remember how desperate he was to join, having nearly scratched the skin off of his own thighs from how he was gripping them. I remember how sweet he was afterwards, making sure I was good and hadn’t slipped off into a negative headspace. Most men would’ve just left after they got what they wanted but not Harry. In fact, not any of the boys. If my memory serves me correctly, Harry had to forcefully ask all of the other boys to leave so that I wasn’t overwhelmed.

Walking into this I had half expected all of them to treat women as if they were just objects for their pleasure but it’s anything but.

My body arches up into his mouth as he moves to the other breast, giving it the exact same treatment as I bury my hand in his hair for something to grasp onto. Also because I know he likes pain and I let my nails scratch roughly at his scalp, feeling the vibrations from his lips on my breast as he moans, something that makes me spread my legs apart even wider in invitation.

“Fuck, Harry,” I groan, feeling the gun be pushed inside, the slide easy given just how wet I am. His movements are slow at first as if he’s testing the waters, so I roll my hips down so that he knows I’m okay with this. I’m putting all of my trust into Harry at this moment.

Harry’s teeth close around my nipple, earning a gasp from me as I tug roughly at his hair to pull him off. “Thought I said that wasn’t my name,” he bites out, clenching his teeth together as his jaw flexes from just how hard he’s biting down at that moment.

He’s moving the gun at a patronisingly slow pace and there’s nothing more I want than to just yell at Harry. To roll him over so that he’s on the bottom and I can take control of the situation. It’s taking everything in me to not just do that.

“Don’t think you’ve earned the title of Daddy just yet,” I quip, trying my hardest to regulate my breathing so that my voice doesn’t shake but that’s harder to do than it looks.

Another mistake made tonight.

All of Harry’s movements come to a stop. His mouth stops lowering to attach to my breasts again. The gun comes to a stop inside of me and is now slowly being pulled out. His hands fall from my body.

My eyes widen ever so slightly as I make eye contact with him, noticing how the vein in his neck is protruding and his jaw is clenching so hard that his teeth have started to slide over one another, creating a gritting noise that makes me shift on the bed.

“Don’t think we’ve got all night,” I speak up, deciding to push my luck. “C’mon, since when did you move at a slow pace?” I jut my lower lip out into a pout, moving to sit up but there’s now a gun resting against my lips and he’s tapping at the lower one.

“Open up and clean it off.”

He taps the gun against my lips once, twice and then he’s roughly tugging my jaw up so that our eyes meet.

“If you want to cum tonight, I’d suggest you quit being a useless fucking bitch and open that pretty little mouth of yours and wrap it around my gun.” His voice is calm yet there’s a dangerous tilt to it, one that fills my stomach with warmth and has my lips falling open to wrap around the gun. I can taste myself on it along with the metal that the gun is made out of. I’m thankful that I don’t taste any residue from it being fired, meaning at some point Harry had cleaned the barrel out without me seeing. Steer clear of UTI’s.

My head slowly moves forward, deciding to take more of the barrel down as I make direct eye contact with Harry. I see the way his breath hitches, eyes locked on my mouth as he shifts from one knee to the other on the bed. I pull off with a pop, licking over my lips before sitting up and tilting Harry’s head back. He seems to get the message because his lips are parting and I’m spitting into his mouth, letting him get a second-hand taste of me.

“Gun is useless to me now,” he breathes, tossing the empty gun to the side before he removes his jeans. He was commando under them this entire time. I squint my eyes to notice that yes, he was in fact commando the entire time because there’s a spot on his jeans where his cock was sitting that is darker than the denim. He was sitting there, leaking in his jeans like the pretty little boy that he is.

“Turn over,” he orders, hand coming down to grip onto my hair before he’s forcing me over onto my stomach and shoving my face down into the pillow.

I’m assuming I didn’t move fast enough for his liking.

“I’m going to fuck you like the useless fucking whore you are,” he spits, the saliva landing on my ass right as he raises my hips so that my back is arched for him. He’s throwing me around like I’m a rag doll and I swear I’ve never been wetter. Everything about this is turning me on beyond belief, making me want to either clench my thighs together or push him back and take what I want. I refuse to beg though. I’m not that desperate yet.

“I don’t care how many times you cum, you’re going to take my cock until I’m finished. Do I make myself clear?” He questions, though he doesn’t leave room for an answer. His hand comes down roughly on my right cheek, the sound being reverberated through the walls as I hiss and move to bite down on the silk pillow.

His touch is rough. His movements are rough. His hands are calloused and rough. His words are rough. Harry is nothing but rough rough rough right now. This is a side of him that I have yet to see. One that is hyped up on adrenaline after killing someone, someone that I know but I can’t give out that information.

I’m more than welcome to let him use me for his pleasure though, especially since I’m getting pleasure out of this as well.

“Gonna fuck me like a little whore, yeah?” I breathe, tilting my head to the side on the pillow so that I’m able to speak and breathe. One of those things I need to do, the other not so much but I just like seeing how far I can push Harry while he’s like this.

Sue me, maybe I like dancing with death.

The tension in my stomach is only growing, begging to be unknotted yet Harry is offering me nothing.

“Don’t remember saying you could speak.” His hand comes down on my other cheek even rougher than the first slap, making my body move up on the bed as a shaky moan falls from my lips. I can’t even be bothered to stop them at this point. It’s obvious that I enjoy being treated as if I’m not even a human being.

Harry moves to wrap my hair around his hand once more, roughly yanking my head back so that it’s flush against his shoulder. His other hand comes up to grab the shoulder with the gunshot wound, pressing his fingers into it and watching as my body reacts. My shoulders roll back against him as my mouth falls open, letting out a small whimper of pain before it tapers off into a moan as he tugs at my hair.

“God, you’re fucking filthy baby,” he breathes out next to my ear, taking my earlobe between his teeth and tugging at it before dropping his hand from both my hair and my shoulder so that I fall back down face forward into the pillows. I make sure my ass is up high in the air, lowering my stomach towards the bed right as I spread my knees apart more to give him the perfect view.

What I don’t expect is Harry’s mouth on me, licking with vigour and pushing his tongue inside of me as if this is the last time he’ll get a taste of me. He’s greedy with it, nearly making my knees give out from just how sudden everything is. His thumb is rubbing rough circles into my clit as his tongue works inside of me, moans falling from his lips as he gets a taste. The moans that tumble from my lips are high pitched, tapering off into breathless whines as my nails dig into the sides of the silk pillows. I don’t even care how loud I’m being at this point. Harry is being relentless, continuing to add pressure to my clit with his thumb. Occasionally he would let his nail catch it which makes my body have a visceral reaction, jolting ever so slightly as the pain makes the warmth grow in my stomach.

I move my hips down against his face since Harry seems keen on wanting me to get off. The pressure just keeps building up.

Harry pushes two fingers beside his tongue, curling them just right so that they brush up against my g spot every single time he pushes them back in along with his tongue. My thighs shake around his head, threatening to close and Harry pulls back just for the briefest of moments to speak which makes me whine from the loss of his tongue.

Such a tragic thing.

“Suffocate me, c’mon. Be a good girl for me now, yeah?” He breathes out before disappearing once again between my thighs. I didn’t even get a chance to see just how ruined he was before he disappeared.

I decide to finally listen to him, letting my thighs fall shut around his head right as he pushes his tongue back inside, moving them both at a quick pace. It’s obvious that his end goal is to get me to cum.

And he gets just that as my legs start to shake again, moving to bite down on the pillow to try and contain some of the moans that are continuously flowing from my lips but it’s useless. They fall out around the pillow and fill the air so what’s the point?

My eyes screw shut the second my orgasm hits me, feeling all of the tension from the heist, the murder downstairs, to thinking I’m being stalked, just everything flows right out of my body the second I cum.

Harry continues on even after I have cum, only detaching himself from my abused clit whenever he feels one of my hands come down to start pushing at his head from in between my thighs.

“What? Can’t take the heat?” He pants, sounding as if he’s struggling to even get the words past his lips. I can hear his heavy breaths behind me, finally forcing myself to turn around so that I can get as good of a look as I can with the red lights.

His face is very wet, that much I can see. Even his neck is wet.

“Was going to fuck you but you were so slick, baby...” He drowns off, sitting up on his knees again as he runs his index finger through my wet folds before slipping it inside once again, letting out a soft chuckle whenever he sees my eyes slip shut and my body reacts by pushing back against him.

“Couldn’t help myself. Sounded so pretty. I don’t like it when you try to hide your moans,” he tsks, running his other hand slowly over my cheeks which still sting just a bit from the spankings that I had received earlier.

The silk pillowcase that is on the pillow is starting to stick to me a bit as sweat collects on my forehead.

“Doing so well...” He mutters, slipping his finger out only to pop it into his mouth to clean it off. “Hope you can take me fucking you like a useless fucking whore.” There’s a change of tone again, one that makes my thighs clench together but the second I do that Harry’s nails are digging into my skin and forcing them back apart.

“Safeword?” He questions, taking a small break to look down at my face. Harry’s hand comes down to brush a piece of my hair to the side, getting rid of most of the sweat on my forehead as well. “Answer me, darling. I’m not going to continue unless I can verbally hear your safe word. No won’t work here but your safe word will, okay?” He breathes, his touch and voice are gentle as he speaks.

I swear I’m getting whiplash.

“T-Rex or Tyrannosaurus Rex,”

There’s a blinding smile that overtakes Harry’s lips.

“That’s my gi--little devil,”

I can tell he meant to say something else but I don’t get long to ponder it because a few seconds later the head of Harry’s cock is being teased through my wet folds.

Harry’s hand slowly runs up the length of my spine once he gets his cock to catch, slowly starting to push into me which leaves my eyes rolling to the back of his head. I can feel everything. Every vein. How thick he is. The way the piercing on the head of his cock is pressing beautifully against my gspot. It’s perfect.

He’s perfect.

I shouldn’t have expected anything less to be honest.

Harry’s hips stop flush up against mine, giving me a small minute to breathe before he’s pulling all the way out, letting the head nearly slip out before roughly pushing back in hard enough that it knocks the air from my lungs and my body pushes up against the bed.

“Oh fuck,” I curse, jaw falling slack.

I crane my neck the best I can to look up at the mirror above us, seeing that Harry is focused on the way his cock disappears inside of me every time. His jaw is laying wide open, face scrunched up in a way that I can only describe as pure ecstasy. I watch as he lifts his hand up, thrusts coming to slow down before he’s reaching over to the side. He’s still fucking me, the drag of his cock pressing deliciously up against every spot inside of me that I don’t care that he’s slowed down.

For now, I let my eyes slip shut and just enjoy the feeling of him.

A sharp pain spreads from my cheeks down the length of my spine as a slap echos throughout the room once more except this one feels different. My eyes shoot open as I move to look behind me, not even bothering with the mirror.

Harry lifts his hand once again, the red LEDs catching with two rings that he has turned around as he brings his hand down even rougher than the previous time.

It’s becoming harder and harder for me not to come a second time, feeling the buildup in my stomach but it starts to dissipate as Harry’s thrusts slow down once again.

I finally get a good look at the rings, realising that it’s his H and S ring being brought down on my ass as a brand in a way. Something about having welts on my ass in the shape of his initials is what nearly sends me over the edge, pleas tumbling from my lips before I even get a chance to acknowledge them.

Everything is hot. My body is hot. This room is hot. Harry is hot. The noises that are falling from Harry’s lips are hot. Everything is hot.

“So fucking good,” Harry grits out under his breath, moving to wrap my hair around his hand once more before he’s tugging me back just a bit so that he can make his thrusts harder, letting the head of his cock hit my G-spot over and over, causing it to swell inside of me as he shifts.

“Can feel you clenching around my cock like the good little slut you are, c’mon,” he breathes, pulling me back so that I’m flush against him as he moves. He attaches his mouth to my neck, bringing his hand down to attach two fingers to my swollen clit and rub quick circles.

“Make a mess all over my cock, c’mon. I know you want to,” he says into my neck, moving his fingers quickly against me right as I cum over his cock, giving the man exactly what he wants as my walls clamp down around him and nearly make it impossible to move.

However, he doesn’t stop. If anything this spurs him on and he’s shoving me back face-first into the pillows, drilling into me until I’m crying out and my voice breaks.


I’m oversensitive at this point, every drive of his pierced cock against my spot makes me shake and let out a small whimper but I also don’t want him to stop because it all feels so fucking good.

The pain feels so fucking good.

I can hear every thrust, the sound as he slides in and out caused by just how wet I am.

I can feel a third orgasm growing heavy in my stomach, being pushed to the front just from how sensitive I am and the white-hot pain. Harry’s hand then drops from my hair to move around to my shoulder, shoving two fingers right into the gun-shot wound which earns a pained cry from me as I fall right down onto the bed, knees giving out.

His other hand holds my hips up as his movements start to become erratic as if he’s chasing something in a way and I just know he’s close and he’s aiming to pull a third orgasm out of me. My legs feel damn near close to Jell-O at this point.

Harry lets out a small grunt before he’s releasing hard inside of me. The sound of my name falling from Harry’s lips is what does it. That combined with the white-hot numb like pain that shoots through my shoulders as he removes his fingers from my gunshot wound.

I cum for a third time, bringing my tongue out to lick over my crackling lips from how dry they were. I can’t remember the last time my lips were actually shut.

My body is slowly being lowered onto the bed as Harry lets go of me. I keep my eyes shut, feeling far too exhausted to even think about opening them. What time is it now? Two am? Three? I don’t even remember how long it was that I was running from Harry. For all, I know the sun could be rising now.

There’s a pair of hands on my side, the touch gentle as I’m slowly being rolled over onto my back. Those same pair of hands are now cupping my face, pressing a wet rag to my forehead to brush away the hair that is sticking to my face.

“Hey, are you in there, pretty girl?” He questions softly, blowing lightly in my face so that I open my eyes.

“Ah, there’s those pretty eyes.” He grins.

I finally get a chance to take him in. He’s covered in a thin sheen of sweat, chest rising and falling in quick succession. The rings are still on his fingers but now they’re turned around so that the H and S are right side up. I want to ask what possessed him to bruise me like that. Did he stop himself before he broke skin? It was such a possessive thing but I feel like if I ask it’ll just undo any and all progress that has been made. So, I stay silent for now.

“Tired,” I breathe out, realising just how dry my throat is as my voice cracks.

A breathless sigh falls from Harry’s lips as he continues to gently press the wet rag over my face. “I know, darling. I know. I promise I’ll bring you back to my bedroom so you can sleep but I need you to keep talking to me as I clean you up,” he hums, moving down between my legs so that he can start to clean up the mess there that he made.

“Reckon you can manage to make it to the bathroom to have a pee?” He questions, looking up at me as he gently washes around the sensitive areas, cleaning anything up that is possibly leaking out.

“If not, that’s okay. I don’t mind carrying you. Besides, I need to disinfect your gunshot wound anyways. Don’t think it was the smartest idea to put my fingers there. Liam might have to fix your stitches.”

At this point, it’s a one-sided conversation. I’m far too tired to speak but I do manage a nod, letting him know that not only am I listening and comprehending what he’s saying but that I’m pretty sure I can manage to make it to the bathroom to have a pee.

I always find that hard to do after sex, It’s like I have to force myself to do it in a way.

“Alright, good. Then we can get you in some warm clothes and into bed.”

It takes about five minutes for him to finish cleaning me up before he’s leading me to the bathroom that is connected to the Red Room. He gives me my privacy to pee before entering himself, carefully cleaning out the wound on my shoulder and examining it. He placed some Neosporin on some gauze before wrapping my shoulder once again just to be safe and ward off any swelling or infection.

The way his moods go will continuously give me whiplash.

We’re both quiet as I watch him work on my shoulder in the mirror, just admiring the abundance of tattoos that he has on his body. They’re everywhere except his back. It’s like a blank canvas just waiting to be drawn on. I wonder if he would let me sit there and draw. Could draw up some plans for the big heist there or be cheeky and draw a massive penis.

“You’re pretty,” I breathe out, relaxing back against his chest since I’m sitting on the countertop with my feet in the sink and he’s standing behind me to support me in case I happen to fall backwards.

He meets my gaze in the mirror as he cuts off the last piece of gauze, setting the roll back into the little red first aid kit.

There’s a faint redness that is growing on his cheeks.

“Thanks,” he grumbles, dropping a small kiss to my shoulder right over the gauze. My stomach swoops dangerously and I can’t help but admit it. Despite knowing this will end terribly.

I’m falling for him. I shouldn’t be but I can’t help it, especially when he shows me little hidden sides of him like this.

“Let’s get you to bed, little devil. The sun will be rising soon. You have work in two days.” He chuckles, helping me down off the counter before he’s handing me a change of clothes.

I don’t know if I’m ready for things to return back to normal. I want to stay in this little bubble for just a little while longer but then again, I never get to keep nice things for long.

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