I would get him on my cock soon enough.
But he moved, drawing his cock from my mouth, climbing down my body until his hips were over mine. The temptation to thrust upwards and show him how hard I was was sostrong that I was ready to go. Until his hands pressed into my shoulders, and his gaze clashed with mine.
Wild, crazy, pink and sweating with his pupils blown. I could have any part of his body; licked him clean and still been hungry for more.
We both panted, heat pulsing off us. He’d been drooling as he fucked me, and a trail ran from his lip, just like his cum did with mine. The agony in his expression cut deep, but I had no right to complain.
There was another tense moment as we watched each other, but it ended as he pursed his lips, breaking his mask to give me a look of disgust that pierced right down to my soul.
My throat burned, and I could barely breathe.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I rasped, my throat aching. “Please, not again.” A heavy sigh followed my words as I let my head fall back to the floor, knocking my neck back, closing my eyes in regret. I groaned before lifting myself back up, returning to him.
“How am I supposed to look at you properly after what you’ve done?” he whispered. The horror in his eyes was the same as twelve years ago, where I had to shut down my feelings so I could stay with him. It was the look that kept me from ever being anything more than his friend, and it was slicing me to pieces.
I opened my mouth to reply, but he’d had enough of me.
“Don’t,” he said, his voice hoarse, exactly how I wanted. “Don’t say another word.”
Harry clenched his jaw, dipping his chin to avoid me as he pushed himself up.
My shoulders stung, but the pain quickly vanished as he rose above me, and my breath caught in the back of my tender throat at how he held himself. He hit me with the Fischer smile, one he rarely used on me because he used to trust me.
“I’m going to the bathroom,” he said, pulling up his trousers. His cheeks red, his hair dishevelled, he couldn’t hide the tears that had stained his skin. “When I come back, you will have moved away from the door so I can leave. Is that clear?”
Looking at him with wide eyes, my heart beat in my throat, and all I could do was nod.
I watched him go, my lips sizzling, trying to catch my breath. In all my years of fucking of course I’d dommed and subbed, but having Harry Fischer fuck my face and then order me around was so hot that I gripped my cock as soon as he ran into the bathroom.
I wanted to come so fucking badly, and I wanted him to see it. I could have done it. Just sat up against the door, spread my knees, and not let him go until he watched me shoot over my thighs.
But if I wanted any chance with him, any minuscule sliver of hope, I had to do whatever the fuck he told me to.
It was the longest five minutes of my life. I got up, washed my hands, drank some water, and tried to stay calm as every anxious second crawled by. It took all I had not to throw open the door and fuck him in the bathroom.
I took a look at myself in the hallway mirror and sighed, shaking my head.
My lips were bright and plump, the skin around my mouth was red and raw, and I had to wipe cum from my chin.
I cleaned my face, adjusted my clothes, and paced back and forth in the kitchen, intensely aware of any sound that came from the bathroom, like the running tap and the creak of the handrail.
When the door finally opened, I released the tension I’d been holding.
“Harry,” I said, my voice hoarse as I stepped toward him.
I wanted him to stop, to at least look at me, but he was in full Fischer mode. I was nothing but a task on his long list. And that burned more deeply than his fists or his tears.
“I’m leaving,” was all he said, clearing the room, reaching the exit as quickly as possible. The front door closed with a dull click, and I was left with nothing.
I didn’t even say goodbye. The thought echoed in my head as I sat there in numb silence. All he wanted was to get away from me.
I leaned back, my ass on the top of the sofa, staring up at the ceiling. Fragments of our argument swirled through my mind, along with Harry’s little moans and shudders, the way he clung to me and needed me. His body had been so soft and he tasted like home, like I’d finally found that thing that I’d been searching for, even though I’d known it was him all along.
Everything had been leading up to that. It was what I’d been so scared of since I first realised I had Molly’s phone. But why was I acting surprised that he hated me for what I did?
He had every right to. But to actually see his anger and hear how deeply I had hurt him… I was stupid to think we could recover from it.
“Fuck,” I said to the empty room. I didn’t know how to fix it.