Flesh (Larry smut)

Chapter 8.

Harry's POV

"Let's go. Leave the buttplug in, Harry." Louis growled at me as he began dressing himself. I, of course, only had the same clothes to wear that I had first come in with merely days ago. 

"You can wear one of my tops." Louis offers just as he pulls on his trousers. I don't say anything, I just nod and go over to his closet, where multiple shirts are hanging. 

I hear Louis' footsteps from behind as he slowly approaches me. His hands rest on my hips and he presses his clothed cock right in between my naked ass-cheeks. "How about either of these? I like them." He whispers, reaching over with one hand and grabbing two hangers. 

I turn around and face him as he shows me the shirts, and I see that one has two skeleton hands on it, and it's fingers are made out of rainbows, while the other one is plain except for on the upper left side of it, where in neat lowercase cursive it says 'not heartbroken.' "I think I'll wear this one." I say, going for the 'not heartbroken' shirt.

"Mm. I thought you'd go for the rainbow." He chuckles, taking that one for himself. I pull the shirt on, and my hair reaches right above the words on the shirt. (A/N: yes, I am still writing Harry as though he has his long hair.) "Looks lovely on you, now go get finished getting dressed. I'll see you downstairs when you're done." Louis says, adjusting his shirt  a bit more before leaving the room.

I pull on the panties Louis had dressed me in earlier, as they were quite comfortable and I don't mind wearing them, of course. I then put on my black trousers and boots before finally heading downstairs. I was met by Louis, who had a cigarette in between his lips. "You shouldn't smoke. It's unhealthy." I remark. "And you shouldn't be constantly having sex with strangers. It's unhealthy." He retorts smartly.

"Point taken." I sigh defeatedly. 

"Hey." Louis says softly, walking closer to me. "Open." He demands.

I obey, opening my mouth. He brings the cigarette right in between his lips, takes a long drag, and then kisses me open-mouthed. He begins softly blowing the smoke into my mouth before kissing me again. He then backs away and watches as the smoke begins leaving from between my parted lips. "I don't approve of you smoking but if it's with me and we're doing this, then that's okay." Louis nods. 

Louis stubs out the cigarette in a nearby ashtray. "You ready?" He asks. "Where are we going, exactly?" I ask as I follow him out the front door. I stand by him as he locks the door. "Your home." Louis responds. We begin walking to the same car that I arrived here in. Louis opens the passenger side door for me but I don't get in. "Why my house?" I ask, looking at him. "No questions. Just get in the car." Louis says impatiently. 

"What if I don't want to?" I say stubbornly.

"Harold, get in the fucking car." Louis demands, grinding his teeth together. 

Instead of disobeying, I comply and get into the car. The buttplug presses up inside of me and each time it moves I can feel Louis' come inside of me. I whine and squeeze my eyes shut, shifting and trying to move the buttplug intot a somewhat more comfortable position, but of course, this attempt fails. Louis gets into the car and watches me the entire time, knowing the buttplug is causing me great discomfort but pleasure. 

Louis starts the car up and puts it in reverse, slowly pulling out of the driveway before pulling out into the road. He doesn't bother looking at me once and his facial expression makes him look as though he's angry, but nonetheless, he still places one of his hands on my thigh and squeezes gently. "Do you know where I live?" I ask uncertainly after a few moments of silence. "Yes." Is all he says. I don't  bother asking how he obtained this information, as I don't want to anger him any further.

I stare out the window, unsure of what else to do. As each minute passes I can feel us getting closer and closer to my house.

"I called a trustworthy friend to tow your car back to your house, so there's nothing you need to worry about." Louis says, just when there's only mere seconds until we reach my house.

Once my house is in view, I begin breathing faster, not sure of what to expect.

Louis pulls up to the curb, right beside my house, and shuts the car off. No one says anything or makes a move. 

His hand still rests on my thigh, and when I look over at him, he's already looking at me.

"Are you going to stay with me?" I ask, finally having mustered up the courage to be the first one to speak. 

Louis doesn't respond yet, instead, his hand fingers slowly drag along my thigh as he moves away and gets out of the car, slowly walking to my side and opening the door for me. He offers me his hand, and I take it, getting out. I am still waiting for his answer, as he shuts the door and pins me against the car and still stares at me. 

"No." He finally replies. I stare at his blank facial expression, trying to get something out of him. I don't feel devastated but I do know that I am most definitely upset. My number one rule was to not get attached and I already broke that.

He begins digging in his pocket, taking out what I recognise as a wallet. "What are you doing?" I ask nervously. 

He ignores me again, and begins gathering cash, counting it off by mouthing the numbers. "Here. Take it. Three thousand dollars." He says, taking my hand and shoving a folded pile of cash into my hands. The most I've ever gotten from a 'client' was five-hundred. Three thousand seems...far too much. "Louis, I can't." I respond, attempting to give it back to him. "Fucking keep it." He growled. 

He met my gaze, a saddened but hard expression on his face. He sighed, walking back to the other side of the car. "You can't just leave me here." I said, looking at him as he got inside.

"Your door is unlocked. Keys are in the livingroom on the black coffee table. Get inside." He spoke roughly, completely ignoring what I said.

"No." 

"I said get the fuck inside, Harry." Louis growled, his eyes focused on the unmoving road and not me. 

"I said no. I don't want you to leave." 

Don't make me feel guilty about this." Louis said.

I just stared at him, not making a single move to go inside.

The car started up, and I watched as Louis put it in drive. "Go. Inside. This is the last time I'm saying it." He said, gripping the steering-wheel so tightly I could see his knuckles turning white.

"No." I repeated.

I watched him as he hit the gas pedal, and I watched as he sped away, and I could hear the tires screeching as he went faster. 

"Fuck you and fuck your money!" I yelled after him, throwing the money on the road in front of me. I was crying, and I was upset, I knew that much. And so I sat in the road and stared at the money, knowing I would eventually pick it up. 

There was no reason for me to be so upset, as I knew I shouldn't have gotten so attached in the first place. 

"Fuck you, Louis."