Lucky Penny [h.s.]

30. (*)

Penelope.

I woke up on the other side of Harry's bed with a heavy feeling in my legs.

My eyelids fluttered open as I took in the white walls of his bedroom and felt the fresh air coming through the cracked window. The city noise was pleasant in the background as I stirred awake, stretching my sore legs out beneath the sheets. I heard car honks and traffic in the distance while I rolled over.

My muscles were aching, my entire body feeling tingly as if I had done a heavy workout before. Which – let's be honest – I had. I could hardly remember the heavy orgasm, just felt like the bed disappeared beneath me and I was flying for a few seconds, my mind dizzy and my eyes seeing pure white while Harry had his tongue between my legs.

The entire part after that felt like a blur, until I felt him massaging my scalp and washing my hair in the shower.

I felt incredible, to say the least.

Even though last night was heavy, I didn't regret anything. Harry taught me so much about myself, about what I liked and what I didn't like. Sure, he was rough with his body but his intentions were pure and his eyes radiated pure care, making me feel incredibly safe with him even though I was tied, gagged and blindfolded. I never thought I could hand someone that much control over me.

My wrists ached a little and I saw the red scratches on them, but it somehow didn't even bother me. This was so different than the times my arms were blue from Patrick's fingers. Harry had been right, this was the good kind of pain. There wasn't an ounce of shame in me about what I had done the night before. I didn't care that I had been begging for him, or that I had made noises I couldn't remember, or that I was a sweaty mess on this bed, or that I had squirted over his hand and messed up his sheets.

None of that mattered. Not to me, and not to Harry. I had enjoyed myself so much and felt so free to explore all of these things with Harry. It was just the biggest proof to me that I felt super comfortable around him. It really did feel like I had known him for years.

I rolled on my side, seeing his naked back in the early light of the Saturday morning. There was no sun shining today, but his blinds hadn't been completely closed and one glance at the clock told me it was ten in the morning, meaning the daylight was in full force.

Harry was still peacefully asleep, quietly snoring as he hugged his pillow and his ribcage expanded with every steady breath. I wanted nothing more than to stay here and watch him sleep, trace my fingertips over the muscles in his back, form patterns with the few freckles that he had, but my bladder was protesting.

I sighed when I wobbled on my legs a little bit once I got up my feet. I tugged on the T-shirt that Harry had given me to sleep in, but it didn't reach further than halfway down my ass.

Cheeky little shit.

I padded over to my bag, putting on the sweatpants he had given me earlier this week after I showered here. I had washed them and meant to give them back, but if he didn't give me clothes to wear, I didn't have many other options.

I left his bedroom with my phone in my hand, staying silent for a little in an attempt to hear if Mitch and Sarah were home. It would be a little awkward to join them in the kitchen in this state, because I was certain I looked utterly fucked.

Harry's apartment seemed quiet, the hardwood floors creaking under my weight as I headed into the bathroom to use the toilet and brush my teeth. My hair was wavy from the lack of a straightener, and I washed my face and put on deodorant as well.

My nipples were very visible through the white Levi's shirt that Harry had given me.

I stood more firmly on my legs with each passing minute, and nothing about my body hurt from last night. I was a little sore, just like if I would've gone to the gym. Only the bruises on my thighs from Harry's hickeys hurt slightly but it was nothing bad. After walking around for a few minutes, I couldn't even feel the strain in my legs anymore.