The Primrose Thrills (Harry Styles Fan Fiction)

Part 9 (2)

It wasn’t long before I felt myself nearing my much-anticipated end, and as I began to moan Harry’s name against his lips and buck my hips more fervently, he brought his fingers from me and instead caressed the insides of my thighs.

“Almost,” he teased wickedly, and I turned my face from his to look down between us and watch his wet fingers gliding over my skin. I groaned loudly as I watched my body quiver from the waist down, and he didn’t start stroking me again until the deep pink flush between my legs had faded and my breathing had steadied.

The next time he touched me, he pushed his middle and ring finger inside of me whilst holding his thumb against my c.lit, creating the most exquisite pressure inside of me. Firm strokes over my sweet spot combined with the brush of his thumb over my clito.ris had me sobbing with pleasure, but once again, as my body grew restless and I tightened around him, he moved his thumb away and stilled his fingers before I could find my sweet release.

“So close,” he whispered soothingly as his eyes searched mine. “Would you like to coum?”

“Yes,” I moaned.

“Do you need to cum?”

“Yes,” this time breathier and more desperate than the last.

“Ask me if you can cum.”

“Let me cum.”

“Ask me properly.”

“Please let me come.”

“Properly,” he drawled into my ear.

I was so turned on that I would have done anything for an org.asm at that point. I would have dropped to my knees and begged him shamelessly. I would have kissed his feet and let him whip me if he wanted me to. I would have told him I loved him, because right then, it felt like I did.

“Please let me come, Sir,” I said quietly; suddenly finding it difficult to push the word past my lips.

A dark smirk flickered across his lips. “No,” he took his time to draw out the single syllable. “You won’t come until I’m inside of you.”

“Harry,” I breathed out exasperatedly. “I can’t.”

I knew that if I moved my hips from side to side to create that delicious friction around his fingers, I’d come almost instantaneously. But with his left hand now holding my hips down, I was powerless against his touch.

“I think you can, Emilia.”

He waited for a few moments before he brought me right to the edge again. “Stop, God, please.” I breathed defeatedly.

“You know the word if you want me to stop, Emilia,” he stroked his fingers over me with the same softness that was in his voice. “But I don’t think you do…”

Nine. One simple word and he’d stop. One word and my body would be free from this bittersweet torment. He was right. I wanted him to keep going; to take me to that high that seemed both imminent and unattainable.

“Control,” he repeated, and I collapsed my tensed up body back against the chair; now warm and damp from my own struggle.

“Think about how good it will feel when you finally come.”

He kissed the corner of my mouth before using the pad of his fingertip to tap my clitoris quickly. I squeezed my eyes shut and pleaded with him to keep going. I was swollen and so sensitive to touch; almost too sensitive. But Harry made sure not to stimulate one area for too long.

On the brink once again, Harry stood up from his chair and moved behind me, and I sighed as the belt loosened and my arms came free. They hung limply at my sides and I watched as Harry began undoing the rope around my right leg, and then my left; taking his time to unwind my body, as if worshipping at my feet. My muscles were stiff and even though the tension in my thighs disappeared, I struggled to move them, despite the warm brush of Harry’s massaging hands.