Rewrite the Stars (A Harry Wells x Reader Insert)

Chapter 2

~Him~

She's unlike anyone I've ever met.

(Y/N) sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the television. I had no idea as to what the programme was, some kind of rerun of a 90s sitcom, but she was happy. And that's all that mattered.

I looked back to the screen of my laptop, running a hand over my face when I saw the latest emails about the takeover of Ramon Industries. It wasn't boding well. He seemed to be fighting me at every decision, every junction. I let out another sigh as she let out a laugh at something on the show, drawing my attention back to her.

"Oh, Phoebe..." (Y/N) muttered to the T.V. I chuckled, and she turned around. "Are you sure you don't want to join me down here?" She'd surrounded herself with every sweet and tiny liquor bottle the suite had to offer. "There's a little tequila with your name on it."

I couldn't help but let out another breath of laughter, glancing back at my screen. Her bright eyes were calling me, but I knew how much this deal was going to mean...

"You've been working all evening, Harrison, don't you think it's time to take a break?" she continued, sitting up on her knees and putting her hands in her lap. I considered it for a moment before pressing my lips together, slowly closing the lid of my laptop, standing, and making my way over to the couch. (Y/N)'s eyes followed me all the way.

She waited for me to sit comfortably before crawling over to me. I gazed at her with a look that was almost like a challenge. I found myself wanting to experience this, to let loose a little. It was a look that purely said 'show me'.

At that, it's like the look in her eyes had changed - one minute so joyously unburdened, then hungry and determined the next.

This was not something I did. Ever. But this whole situation seemed to come about by chance. I hadn't planned this. And I planned everything! It snuck up on me, and yes, I couldn't deny I was curious. But not because of her profession. She made me curious.

When (Y/N) reached me, she placed her hands delicately on my thighs, neither of us looking away from the other's eyes. She was nothing less than captivating - the way she looked at me, the way she moved, the way she was touching me now...

The breathtaking woman leant forwards, her face only an inch or so from mine and I found myself glancing at her full red lips.

"Don't even think about it," she said, "I don't kiss on the mouth."

"Neither do I." I brought one hand up, running my knuckles softly over her cheek and then tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear.

"What do you want?" she breathed, just brushing her lips over my jaw.

"What uh... what do you do?"

"Anything you want me to do."

(Y/N)'s hands ran up my legs and over my chest, where her fingers began to undo the buttons of my shirt, gradually pulling the fabric back and getting me to relax. She used one finger to trace down the middle of my chest before coming to my belt, undoing that as well and languidly palming my already hardening self. I found myself needing so much more of her touch, unsure if this had to do with my lack of sexual encounters with a woman for the last decade or so, or whether it had to do with the complex and enthralling one in front of me, between my legs.

She seemed to sense my growing need, and I guessed that was part of what made her good at her job. I watched her, transfixed, as she pushed the straps of her dress off of her shoulders and shimmied out of the article to reveal her lacy underwear, before leaving it abandoned with her shoes on the floor. I reached out, putting my hands on her waist and gliding my fingers over her skin. (Y/N) brought me closer by pulling from under my knees, causing me to slide down the couch cushion. With her fingers, she tugged down my boxers to reveal my erection. Her pleased hum at the sight made it twitch, and I suddenly needed her to give it all of her attention, in any way she deemed fit.

(Y/N) looked up at me through her lashes, small smile playing on her lips as my chest rose and fell with my already heavy breaths under her. Leaning down, she started to press kisses to my skin, trailing those perfect lips down my torso and towards my cock.

I needed her to touch me, and I knew she knew it as well.

She exhaled her hot breath down the length of me, applying the optimal amount of pressure in her grip. At last, she let her mouth kiss the tip. A small action, but it made me even harder nevertheless. She teased me some more with those lips, almost-but-not-quite taking me in her mouth. I groaned and ran a hand through my hair. She laughed, one very different from the one she used when watching the television.

"Patience, Harrison. I want to make this good for you," she said, darting her tongue out and licking a stripe from the base to the tip, exacting an unholy noise from me.

It felt like an eternity until she finally slid my cock past her lips, stretching her mouth into a gorgeous red 'O.' She glided up me slowly, as far as her mouth could accommodate, then at the same pace went back down. Oh God, it was so slow and so good. I had altogether forgotten I could feel this way. It was like she was unlocking something I had buried away long ago.

I caught her gaze as she repeatedly tugged me into her mouth, but on one particular motion, she grazed her teeth against my skin. I stuttered a moan.

"(Y/N)..."

I didn't need to tell her 'faster' because she already seemed to know exactly what I needed and upped her pace. It had been so long since I'd done anything of this nature that I didn't think I would last much longer. I already felt a tightness coiling inside me that I desperately wanted to be relieved from yet also wanted to have continue forever.

I was sure I moaned some variations of positive affirmations, though it was hard to know for certain because I was taken someplace else entirely by this incredible woman.

(Y/N) squeezed her lips tight around my cock on her way down again and that was it - I was at her mercy. I made another noise I wasn't proud of and realized she had removed her mouth from me. She pumped me in her hand not but a few times more until I came over her hand and chest. Relief washed over me. The pure bliss of finally having let go.

Before I even had the time to feel embarrassed, she made a noise that could only mean she was satisfied.

"How do you feel, Harrison?" she asked me.

How do I answer this?

"Relieved. Invigorated." I left out the phrase, utterly taken with you.

"Wonderful," she said with a winning smile, reaching for the tissues on the table beside the couch, "then I've done my job."

Oh right. Her job...