Song of the Chapter: Gold Angel - Minke Can't hide the mirror in your mind, you see me Nothing is left for you to find, give in to me I hear your voice and it sounds like a symphony
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A/N: this chapter is taken place a little before louis received the news about the carriage ride. I know some get confused of when I do time switches. Also, many will also get confused with this chapter in dialogue sense, so I will add an explanation at the end.
I know many of you expect so much from this chapter because of the way I built it up. But I want many of you to know ahead of time, many of you will not understand it. I wish I had the ability to write more blunt like, but I have this image of where I want this story to go and where I want Louis' and Harry's characters to develop up to.
Without further ado, enjoy !
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THE WOMAN BELOW Harry screams, her face flushed and lips swollen from being bitten. She grips the white sheets underneath her and crooks her neck to the side when Harry's lips asks for it; the white complexion of her skin soon turning violet and bruised.
Her body rocks back and forth with Harry's hips slamming against his pelvis hard enough for every thrust to burn. She pants desperately and claws at Harry's back, overwhelmed by everything.
"Do not tense." Harry says through gritted teeth, but shows his empathy through his free hand supporting the crown of the doxy's head so he can prevent the omega from hurting herself by rolling her head back when he pounded his throbbing girth into her.
"M-my king!" She moans loudly, her voice wrecked and coming out scratchy, her pale skin flushing red.
"Courtesan," Harry growls lowly in her flushed ear, kneading softly at her inner thigh. "Do not tense." He repeats venomously.
But alas she was a panting mess when the king thrusted inside of her once more, hitting a sensitive spot. The Alpha snapped his hips back in animalistic rage, under no control of his own body, as it seemed. His eyes a full black ink.
The courtesan only whined and whimpered when a small slap came to her thigh for being so needy as she pulls at the same is hanging from Harry's neck; the pendant now dull and meaningless as he wears it. Not the same lively jewel as it was once before.
Harry doesn't dare to kiss her lips, he doesn't dare to make love.
Harry's free hand palms her breasts slightly, only causing more moans to fall out, the other hand upon her waist and squeezing the curve possessively. The red haired doxy's jaw slacks, and a scream escapes as the king above her rolls his hips rough and unforgivingly.
