Little Book of Smut (Slow Updates)

In-Between Pink Sheets

"Ya know, caesar salads really get me going, too." He chuckled as he stepped tauntingly towards her.

She rolled her eyes, "Fuck you."

"I bet tha's what ya want,"

Y/N wasn't sure if she was more embarrassed with the fact that she had soaked through her panties and was now biting back pitiful mewls as she rutted against the chair or the fact that she'd gotten terribly horny at her family dinner table with her her cocky, shit-eating grin bearing, boyfriend watching in amusement with that stupid twinkle in his eye.

She figured, if she kept her attention on the conversation the rest of the table was having, she could forget about the current mess she'd made of herself, but, it seemed the longer she deprived herself of what she so desperately needed, the stronger that urge to sneak off to the bathroom with Harry in tow became. How she'd gotten into this predicament was beyond her, but now she was in a hole she couldn't climb out of.

And Harry was definitely not helping.

He sat across the table from her, toying with his bottom lip to disguise the arrogant smile he'd been sporting since he realized the reason behind her red cheeks and dilated eyes. Every so often, he'd bump her foot with his before sending a knowing glance. At one point, he'd even gone as far as to slowly lick the sauce from his fingers while keeping his eyes locked on hers, hollowing his cheeks as he slid them out until reaching his fingertips and releasing them with a pop. And once he saw her clenching her fists and fidgeting in her seat, he'd ask, "Y/N, you feeling alright?"

And each time the only reply he received was a tight-lipped, "Yes." And a rather harsh glare.

Her mind was clouded by selfish desires and the longer the dinner ran, the more and more she considered acting upon those irrational thoughts – maybe no one would assume anything if she discreetly grinded against her chair – and now she was sure the evidence of her arousal would be clear for all to see. Curse her for wearing a dress.

She sat with her legs crossed, one elbow resting on the table. Her hand tugged and scratched at the roots of her hair while the other pushed around her food that was, growing cold, with her fork. "You look flushed, darling, and you've barely eaten anything." her mother said, rubbing up and down her forearm. A frown was set on her mother's forehead as she observed her, "Are you sure you're feeling alright?"

Assuring her mother that she was fine would have been the easy thing to do. That way, she could continue to suffer through their dinner without her mother's soothing touches that would go against their purpose and aggravate her in this highly sensitive state. But, with her hormones and emotions on high, unwanted tears brimmed her eyes and her throat tightened. Quickly, she blinked them away and looked back down to her plate, "I-I don't know."

"Oh honey, do you want to go upstairs and lay down?"

"No–" she cut off her sentence quickly when she felt Harry's foot bump into hers. She lifted her gaze from the plate and over to him. He was looking at her brother, smiling at something he said, but he slyly shoved his hand into a fist before raising his thumb, signaling 'yes' to her. "I mean yes, yeah I want to um, I wanna go lay down."

Her mother, unaware of Y/N and Harry's unspoken conversation, patted her shoulder and nodded her head approvingly. "Go on up and take a rest."

Harry turned from her brother and dropped one eye in a wink that made Y/N's legs wobble as she stood from her chair. She looked back to her seat warily, being sure that no signs of her fiasco were left behind. Her legs felt tingly and weak and she had to grip the chair to keep balance but with a deep breath and set determination, she walked from the table and up the stairs.