"What do you think you're doing here?" Louis asks, a curious quirk to her brow.
There's no reason for Harry to gulp nervously, other than Louis' tone. She doesn't think it's actually inappropriate for her to be here. She might have waited until Zayn left the front desk, and informed Niall that she was going to lunch, and then hopped on Louis' desk and made sure to appear proper seductive, but. She's not doing anything wrong. She was just waiting for Louis in her office.
It's not even close to the first time she's done this, either. She's started working at the football club almost two years ago, just a summer job her dad got her to put something on her uni application. She ended up doing so well they actually hired her as an intern, in a position she's still convinced Niall invented purely to keep her around. It was love at first sight, her and Niall, between her bringing him Nando's on her first day and Niall taking her on a trip to Ireland to meet his family. She's not sure she even has a proper job description, other than being her boss's best friend and her boss's boss's secret girlfriend.
Right. Harry didn't even stand a chance against that one. She met Louis on the day of her very first interview, in the lady's room of all places. She'd been so happy to see another girl—well, woman—in the testosterone-heavy office, she practically threw herself at Louis as soon as she left the stall. It might have been considered against bathroom etiquette, but Louis just smiled at her and that was that. Harry fell for her, pussy-first. It was only a few hours later that Harry realised Gorgeous Bathroom Nymph was actually Louis Tomlinson, beloved pop idol and the owner of the club, six years her senior.
Two years later and they're so far up each other's arses (sometimes literally), it should be expected of Harry to sometimes sneak into Louis' huge executive office and seat herself on the huge executive oak desk that's just the right height to bend over.
But her breath still picks up when Louis looks at her critically and adds, "Well?"
It's the authority, probably. Louis' been on Forbes' 100 Most Powerful Women list twice, and she doesn't like to remind Harry of that unless the situation requires it. Harry's angling for that situation. She still doesn't answer, just ogles Louis in her business casual "I'd rather be wearing boxers and a band shirt but I run this place so I have to wear trousers" clothes. Like, she'd ogle her no matter what she was wearing. Louis is the hottest woman alive, whether she's wearing lipstick and a maxi dress or she's packing in a suit and telling Harry to call her Sir.
Right now she's got her hands on her hips and Harry's heart starts beating fast. "Nothing," she finally answers, tucking a few stray curls behind her ear. "I was just bored."
Louis snorts. "Did all the players suddenly stop being needy brats?"
Right. Her job description. Help Niall keep the players happy. No wonder she was good at it; Harry lives to please. One time she came to a home game in an actual cheerleader uniform. Coincidentally, that was also the first time Louis fucked her, right in the backseat of her car with the little skirt still on. Harry feels a little flushed just from the memory. "Niall lets me get away with anything," she says, eyes trained on Louis' slow advance. Well, eyes trained on her high heels and tight pants.
"I don't think you want to get away with anything," Louis says dryly, and Harry's hands tighten on the hem of her skirt. The fact Louis can gauge her mood within a minute is incredible. Not that she was being all that subtle, in a moment Louis will see that—"What's this for?" Louis asks, pausing and looking at her big executive chair, which currently has a silk scarf spread over the seat.
This is it, this is her move. Harry bites her lip and crosses her legs. "I know you don't like being all wet when you still have work to do."
Louis' eyes snap back to Harry a little wider than before. She's taking her in for just a moment, but Harry knows she's not actually contemplating whether they're fucking here or not. It's more of a what am I going to do with you? and Harry likes that quite a lot. It's why she does things so bluntly—after six months of failed subtle seduction, Harry's learnt how to get what she wants. She's nineteen now. And she's fucking adorable.
Louis clears her throat and looks at the scarf disapprovingly, but her hands are clenched in fists and she resumes walking toward Harry. "Wasn't that the point of giving you a key to my flat?"
Harry's heart races, not for the usual reasons. "No, the point of that was that you love me."
It's like Louis can't help the warm smile she gives her, before she schools her features again. Harry still feels unexpectedly giddy. She got the key last week and added it to her keychain like it belonged there. Like she belongs in Louis' ridiculously posh flat. The sentimental thoughts don't make her any less wet, nor does Louis standing right in front of her finally. She's wearing the pricey perfume Harry can't get enough of, and Harry finds herself licking her lips, almost misses it when Louis asks, "So what's the point of this?"
Harry spreads her legs a tiny bit, playing with her skirt coyly and meeting Louis' gaze through her lashes. "Was thirsty."
Louis' smile is more of a smirk this time. Harry can't stop watching her lips, shiny-red and pouty and close. "That's an awful line, H."
Good thing she has more. "Should shut me up then."
Louis rolls her eyes like it's a huge hardship—or she's hopelessly endeared by Harry's game—and suddenly her hands are on Harry's knees and she leans in to kiss her. Harry instantly opens up and starts sighing like she's in a movie. Louis' the only girl she's ever kissed, and even though they've moved considerably past that, it's still one of her favourite things to do. Louis' just good at it, nibbles and sucks on Harry's full lips until they're all tingly and kissed. She traces the shape of Harry's lips with her tongue before darting in and meeting hers, slick and soft and sweet like cherry lipgloss and eternal love. Maybe.
Harry's jostled out of her kissing haze when she hears rustling and feels something brush her knees. Before she can pull back to investigate, Louis tilts Harry's head up so she can start kissing her neck. Harry inhales sharply, ankles knocking together when Louis' wet lips touch her skin. "You want me to really shut you up, Harry?" Louis whispers, digging her teeth just a little into the crook of Harry's neck.
Harry nods fast, jostling Louis a little and making her bite harder. "Yeah," she moans, fingers twitching with the need to reach up and bury her hands in Louis' soft hair.
Louis moves up to her ear, sucking on her earlobe a little and breathing harder than necessary. "Came all the way to my office just to eat me out? Are you that desperate?"
Christ, Harry probably should've worn knickers under her dress today. She's getting so wet she feels it on her inner thighs. "Please let me," she whispers back, making no effort to prove Louis wrong. She is desperate, got the idea in her head an hour ago and had to press the tip of her pen against her skirt, just to calm down a little. "Want you."
She hums in Harry's ear like she's pleased, and Harry feels hot all over. It's nothing compared to the moment Louis steps back and sits in her chair, completely naked from the waist down, save for her heels. She's just… God, she looks fantastic, her strong, tan legs spread and her pussy just waiting for Harry, neatly trimmed and wet already. Harry actually feels parched just looking at her. She hops to her feet and leans in to kiss Louis automatically, but Louis' quick to press a hand to her chest and stop her. Against her bitten lips she says clearly, "Get under the desk if you want it so much."
Heat twists in her again and she goes, muttering "yeah" almost to herself. It's not exactly what she pictured, but it's better, somehow, when she crawls under the desk and Louis calls her a good girl. Louis slides the chair closer and it gets darker, so all of Harry's focus is between Louis' legs. She sits comfortably and gets her hands on Louis' knees, spreading them gently and shivering just from being so close to her. She starts kissing up her thighs, lapping greedily when she tastes Louis' wetness and only getting wetter herself. If she ever achieves anything greater than turning Louis Tomlinson on, she still won't be as proud of herself as she is in moments like these.
Harry's straining her ears for any sort of reaction, but all she hears is—papers shuffling, like Louis might actually be working while Harry's kneeling between her bare legs. It turns Harry on so much her fingers dig into Louis' taut thigh muscles, and she just pounces, licking Louis up and down her opening. She hears a relieved kind of moan and it takes her a moment to realise it was her own immediate reaction to Louis' taste.
She can't stop humming against her, just licking Louis' lips clean and breathing in deep. Two years ago she didn't even think she'd like giving head, let alone to a girl, but now she can't fucking get enough. It's just so intimate, even when they play like this and Louis pretends to be indifferent. Harry can taste and smell her arousal, can wear it on her face like a prize, can get her off slowly and savour it or suck her brains out through her clit and get her off with the hard press of her covered teeth.
She keeps teasing her, flicking her tongue against her folds and then pressing it hard between them, licking a fat stripe from her hole up and stopping just short of her clit. Louis only breaks when Harry stops to breathe hard over her clit, careful not to touch. Harry must have gotten lost in it for a bit too long, because suddenly Louis hooks her knees over Harry's shoulders and thumps her back with her heels, pulling her in.
Harry finds herself moaning again, completely overwhelmed when her whole face is shoved against Louis' pussy and Louis' thighs clamp around her ears. Actually feeling how turned on Louis is spurs her on immeasurably. She attaches her lips to Louis' clit and starts playing with it incessantly, sucking and rubbing it with her slick tongue, pressing her closed mouth around it and getting messy messy messy.
It's then that she breaks, letting go of one of Louis' thighs and sneaking a hand beneath her own skirt. She can't help but slide two fingers right inside herself, smooth and good. Her groan is buried in Louis' pussy, and after a second so is Harry's finger, just one for Louis. With her legs hitched up, Harry's access couldn't be easier, and when she feels Louis tighten up around her—her cunt and her thighs and her knees—Harry pulses.
She rubs her whole face up and down, fingering Louis slowly and focusing most of her efforts on her clit. There isn't enough air in her lungs to keep moaning, and suddenly she hears everything else: the chair creaking when Louis' hips buck uncontrollably, paper tearing like Louis might be clutching it too tight, and Louis herself, gasping and whispering encouragements Harry could kick herself for not hearing sooner.
She's so caught up in it she completely misses the most important sound of them all—a knock on the door. What she does hear is Louis chirping, "Come in!"
Harry's fingers twitch hard inside herself and it's like everything slows down. She has to take in the fact the door has been unlocked all along and just about anyone could have strolled in, the fact that someone is going to, the fact Louis just invited them inside without giving Harry the chance to get out from under the desk and straighten herself out, the fact that whoever it is would only have to bend down and find her.
She startles and pulls back, embarrassment rushing over her in hot waves that make her clench hard, god. The door opens and Harry absolutely can't breathe, partly from nerves and partly from Louis suddenly grabbing her hair and pulling her right back to her pussy. Everything feels hot, from the air in the room to her own cheeks, but even now she can't stop herself from licking Louis out silently, going back to what she does best. She starts to slide her finger into Louis again, slowly, just to show her she's okay with this. She's really, terribly okay with this.
"Zayn! Back from lunch?" Louis asks, and her tone is muffled by her thighs around Harry's ears but her voice is clear and Harry just has to tuck her fingers back inside herself, helpless not to when she hears Louis' high voice.
"Yeah, I…" Zayn starts, and Harry practically gushes, her mind reeling from the fact there's another person in this room right now, when Louis' half-naked and Harry's mouth is covered in her wetness. "Did you get high without me?" he asks suddenly.
"Of course not, babe," Louis says affectionately. Harry doesn't feel vindicated at all when Louis coughs loudly as Harry sucks around her clit particularly hard. "Um, why?"
"You're just kind of flushed, is all," Zayn says cautiously. He knows, he must know. How can he not smell it? Harry has to stop again just because she feels a bit faint. It could be mortification, but maybe she sort of wants to be found out, blowing her boss under the desk.
She only reconnects when she realises that for some reason, she's the topic of conversation. "Where's Harry then? Niall lost her like, an hour ago."
"Eating out," Louis says plainly. Harry's face feels like it ignites and she has to bite hard on Louis' thigh to stay quiet when she rides her fingers extra hard. There's a slight chance she might be getting off on this. "She grabs lunch outside of the office sometimes," she adds.
"You didn't wanna go with her?" Zayn asks. It's nice that he assumed she would—Zayn and Niall are the only people in the office who know about them, and they've been mostly supportive. Zayn's a supportive character right now and he doesn't even know it.
"Had some work to do. She said she'd bring me something back, though," Louis says. Her hand clenches in Harry's hair again and Harry gets the message. Not that she really needed it—she's getting squirmy from being hidden and talked about, has to distract herself by burying her face between Louis' legs and licking her out in long swipes.
Louis' thighs shake hard around her, and she's pulling on her hair pleasantly hard but not to encourage her. She's doing it because she can't help it, because of Harry. Harry's so focused on making Louis feel even better that she doesn't even hear the rest of the exchange, until she hears the door shut firmly and suddenly Louis' moaning and whispering, "Such a good girl for me, fuck, got me close. Could barely keep myself quiet."
Harry can't help it, has to pull her fingers out of herself and start rubbing her clit hard, relieved and even more desperate. If Louis' managed holding back so far, she's falling apart now, her tone almost harsher than her grip on Harry's curls. "Keep going, darling, so good for Daddy."
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Harry squeezes her eyes shut and gives Louis all she has, lashing her with her tongue and pressing hard with her lips, fingering Louis faster and faster, just to match the pace of how she's fucking herself again. Everything feels so good, Louis' wetness on her tongue and mouth and half her face, Louis' legs trapping her close and secure, Louis' hands yanking on her hair so rough it burns, Louis' tight cunt pulling her in while she's working herself hard.
She knows Louis' really close, can tell from the sounds by now, but she did not expect Louis to squeeze her thighs and start canting her hips and riding Harry's face. It's everything all at once—Louis' movements are jerky and leave Harry helpless, leave her messy and so turned on she's shivering. All she can do is sit still and give Louis all the pressure she needs, let Louis use her however she wants.
When Louis comes she's loud as always, even though Zayn must be sitting right outside. Soundproof, executive offices are one of the perks of fucking the CEO. She clenches so tight Harry actually can't breathe, and that's really all Harry needs to finally come herself, so hard it feels like it lasts forever. When she's mildly recovered she finds Louis' thighs still shaking around her head, and she can't help but tilt her head and start sucking on her wet skin. She thinks she might be leaving a mark, she thinks of Louis leaving lipstick stains on her. She doesn't think before moving back in and licking Louis' clit gently, almost soothingly.
Louis sighs in satisfaction, or finality, and Harry panics for a moment—she wants to keep going, likes kneeling a bit too much to cut this short. She can't say it, doesn't want to stop touching Louis for a moment, so instead she thrusts her finger deeper inside Louis and starts pushing up, rubbing until suddenly Louis' pulling her hair hard and moans, "Baby."
It only takes a few more minutes to make Louis come again, tongue hard on her clit and finger teasing her spot, easily found after she's already come. She doesn't let Harry linger this time, rolling her chair back so fast Harry nearly falls forward. As soon as Harry crawls forward from under the desk, Louis yanks her head up by the hair and kisses her fiercely, licking herself off her lips and tongue. Harry's completely breathless, ready to just slump in Louis' lap, but then Louis whispers in her ear, "Hand, love."
Harry gasps a little, turning her head to feel more of Louis' lips. "Which?"
Louis huffs and bites Harry's earlobe none too gently. "The wet one."
Her cheeks burn with embarrassment when she realises. "They're both…"
"What?" Louis draws back, and pins Harry with a scrutinizing look. Despite her silent pleading to the cosmos, Harry doesn't actually melt into Louis. It only takes two seconds for Louis to realise. "Did you get off?"
"I…" Harry closes her eyes and bites her lip, humiliation hot in her veins. "Had to, Daddy. Tasted so good."
Her eyes fly back open when Louis grabs both her wrists. While staring her dead in the eye, Louis takes Harry's right hand and brings it to her own cunt again, impossibly slick with her wetness and Harry's spit. It feels so good Harry's getting wetter herself, just wants to touch again, but then Louis lifts her hand and starts sucking her fingers clean, one by one. It feels—god, it feels like she's being cheated out of tasting Louis again, it feels like she's being punished and it feels fucking incredible. Louis does the same with her other hand, until Harry finds herself whimpering, torn between wanting to bury her face between Louis' wet thighs and wanting to suck her own fingers clean to get every drop and wanting Louis to fuck her. "Please Daddy," she mutters kind of pathetically.
Louis releases her last finger with a pop and asks, "Did I give you permission to come?"
Harry swallows, legs clenching shut involuntarily so the carpet scrapes her knees. "No."
"Did I even give you permission to touch?"
"No, I'm…" Harry can't even think, too ashamed and turned on. "M'sorry Daddy."
Louis sighs disapprovingly, and Harry doesn't even get a second for the guilt to sink in before Louis' standing and pulling Harry up by the hair. Once she's up, Louis stops pulling her up and starts pulling her head back, her hand tight and painful and grounding and good in Harry's long hair. The only things on Harry's mind are the burning in her scalp and Louis' lips ghosting over her ear while she whispers, "Did you come here to be a good girl or a bad one?"
Harry has to inhale deeply at that, affected as always by Louis talking like that, only it doesn't calm her down one bit because all she can smell is Louis and pussy and heat. She's getting her white dress messy and Louis will see and Louis' going to—"Good," she whispers, her brain working too fast or too slow to think of many words. "Wanna be your good girl, I'm so sorry I couldn't help myself."
She feels a tender, unexpected kiss to her neck and kind of can't breathe. "I don't think you were either," Louis whispers. "I think you're a naughty, desperate girl, and I think you should bend over now."
It certainly wouldn't do not to be a good girl. As hard as it is to step back from Louis, she doesn't waste a moment before she turns around and drops to her elbows on the desktop. Things get a bit quieter in her head, partly because she's less overwhelmed but mostly because her senses are trained on Louis, trying to figure out if she's moving closer or farther away.
After maybe an eternity, Louis taps her heel on Harry's calf and she immediately spreads her legs, lowering herself on the desk and breathing that much harder. When her skirt gets hitched up over her back, she gasps louder than Louis, cold air suddenly hitting her bare skin. Another minute goes by and nothing happens, apart from Harry's racing heart and twitching hips. "D'you think I should touch you?" Louis asks. "Think you deserve it after you touched yourself?"
And it doesn't matter that she's the one who started this, it doesn't matter that she made Louis come twice with her mouth. All that matters is that she misbehaved, which means that all that matters is her, and her fucking spine tingles. "No," she mumbles. She wants to be touched so badly it hurts, but she also kind of really wants to be punished.
Louis lets her squirm for another minute, until Harry feels a single finger dragging up from the back of her knee, slowly, over her wet thighs and closer and closer and—Harry barely breathes out a please before Louis' finger skips her cunt altogether and just swipes between her arsecheeks, settling on her lower back. "Always get so wet from eating me out, don't you?"
Harry's eyes drift shut and her hips shift forward slightly, so she can grind against the desk. It would probably feel better if the front of her skirt was up too, but there's something about her dress clinging to her skin that makes her gasp. And it's true, god, sometimes she just doesn't want to stop, wants to eat Louis out for so long that she comes and comes until she passes out. Even then Harry wants to fall sleep with her head on Louis' thigh, so she could wake her up with her tongue on her clit the next morning. (Only to have Louis calling her out on being so eager. Which somehow makes her even more eager. It might be a thing.)
Louis doesn't wait for her to answer. "If I punish you now would you still like to get fucked later?"
"Fuck, Daddy," Harry rushes to say, though it's muffled by her pressing her forehead to the desk and completely splaying herself out for Louis. She spreads her legs even wider and throws her hands forward, so she can grip the edge of the desk and somewhat steady herself. "Please."
"Christ," Louis mumbles, her hand moving lower to cup Harry's arse. Harry feels like blushing even before Louis asks, "Do you know what you look like right now?"
Harry's grip tightens and her ears are ringing and it feels like she's choking on the word. "Slutty."
She could barely hear herself, but Louis' in tune with her. Louis leaves a whole trail of kisses up Harry's spine, like she's finally starting to be pleased with her again, and Harry unconsciously arches up for more touch. "You are, love," Louis comments, but it's stern. Or maybe it just sounds stern because it's coupled with Louis grabbing her arse with both hands and squeezing hard. "Tell me what you want."
Harry's horrified to find that her weak nngh isn't answer enough. She doesn't know if she has anything more meaningful to offer, considering her brain keeps jumping between Louis' soft hands on her skin and slut slut slut. She didn't even clear the desk, she's just—lying here among Louis' paperwork, waiting to get spanked. Another thing for Louis to handle. Her arse hitches up under Louis' grip and she whispers, "Hit me until it hurts."
She's honestly shocked when Louis just spanks her ten times, instead of making her beg for it. Of course, that's when Louis stops as suddenly as she's started, and goes back to kneading her arse, now just a bit tenderer. "What else?"
Harry bites her lip hard and turns her head, burying her face in her own arm. "Fuck me, please, anywhere you want."
She really should have seen it coming, but it's still a shock when Louis fucks two fingers into her, sliding in so easily and noisily Harry moans outright. She's biting hard into her arm but she can't even feel the pain, completely overwhelmed by feeling Louis inside her after waiting for so long. "What else?" Louis insists.
Harry would've watched her mouth, she really wouldn't have been so—greedy, but Louis' fingers are wiggling inside her and making her feel so good and full and connected to Louis that she breathes out, "Let me come, please Daddy, need it."
Louis stops fucking her all at once, and Harry's sure she fucked up, that she asked for too much, but then Louis starts spanking her, harder this time, one, two, three, "Yeah," twelve, thirteen, "Daddy, fuck—" twenty-four, twenty-five, nothing. Harry bangs her head on the desk and before Louis even asks her anything, she whines, "More, please, need it harder."
She gets twenty-five again, according to Louis' quiet count, but they're harder this time, Louis' hand flat and hot on her, god, it's starting to sting and she can't get enough. She keeps her arse thrust out and her ears pricked up, relishing every slap because it's starting to feel like she deserves this. With every smack it gets better and she hopes that Louis' more and more pleased with her.
As soon as she starts to feel like she needs to hear it, Louis finishes the set and bends over her, kissing her shoulders and whispering, "So good for me, baby, taking it so well."
It feels like she's glowing with every word, every brush of Louis' lips on her, even over the dress. "Please," Harry says again.
Louis gives her one last kiss, says thirty, and then starts again. She's going even harder now, so her hand falls in loud thuds that Harry feels deep inside her, good and addictive. It's starting to hurt enough that she wants it to hurt more, and Louis knows what she needs by now. She only stops after thirty to give her a kiss, a sweet word of encouragement, and then she's back at it, strikes so fast the pain washes over Harry in choppy waves. She can only spread her legs a little more, to show Daddy that she can be a good girl.
She doesn't know how many sets she's gotten, doesn't even know how many hits are in a set, but when Louis stops she notices. She notices how her arse feels hot and stingy and perfect, she notices how she's been moaning softly into her arm, she notices how she's practically soaked through her dress. Most importantly, she notices Louis hanging over her, kissing her neck and running her hands all over Harry's back. "Want a break, kitten? Did so, so well for me."
Harry thinks for a moment and then nods. "Just for a bit, Daddy."
Louis gives her a long, suckling kiss on the crook of her neck, where everyone could see, and then helps her straighten up. Harry's knees are wobbly, shakier still when Louis lets go of her for the second it takes to get a water bottle from her purse. Harry takes the bottle gratefully and tries not to melt when Louis wraps her arms around her waist and buries her face in Harry's hair. She feels like Louis' the only thing keeping her feet on the ground right now, and it's nice and warm and all she'll ever need.
"Good?" Louis asks, mouthing along her shoulder blades.
Harry nods, then nearly chokes on the water when Louis presses up against her completely, her naked waist on Harry's aching arse. It's apparently not enough for Louis, since she squeezes both her hands in between them, grabbing Harry's burning cheeks hard. Fuck. Harry hurries to put the cap back on the bottle and then she bends over again, pushing her arse back cheekily and hoping.
Louis chuckles and lets go of her arse completely, much to Harry's dismay. When she peeks over her shoulder, she sees Louis shaking out her hands and staring at Harry's arse. It's probably all red and—Harry hopes—inviting. "I want you to stay with me this time around, yeah?" Louis asks, and Harry snaps her eyes shut again. "Count in your head and thank me after every ten."
"Anything, Daddy," Harry says quickly, settling into her slumped position on the desk and trying to clear her head enough to keep a count.
"It might be hard," Louis warns. Before Harry can ask why, Louis thrusts two fingers into her again, all the way in before parting them slightly and making Harry's breath catch in her throat. Before she can recover Louis pulls her fingers out, then slides them back in, hard and sure and amazing. It only takes a few seconds for her to pick up a furious pace, fucking her fast and deep and so fucking good Harry has to bite hard on her arm to keep from screaming.
And then her other hand hits Harry's left cheek hard enough to ring around the office, and sparks shoot up Harry's whole body because—if she started feeling a bit numb towards the end, after the break it hurts all the more for it. Louis' hand starts flying over her, each hit more painful. The best part is that she's still moving inside her, she's hitting her slow to fuck her fast, making pain and pleasure knot together so tightly Harry feels like she's losing her mind.
Her body still feels like it's rocketing forward even after Louis stops hitting her, and when did Louis stop hitting her, and why—"Oh god." Louis stops fucking her but she keeps her fingers deep in her cunt. She starts to twist her fingers so gently it might have gone unnoticed, if she weren't brushing against Harry's spot, fuck. "Daddy, please, I—please—" She doesn't know what she's begging for, but she needs it or she'll fucking faint.
Louis pounces on her all at once, steps up with one thigh squeezed between Harry's legs, so her fingers are shoved in that much deeper. More than that—Harry can feel how wet Louis is, right against her thigh. Everything's ten times hotter as soon as she feels that, and she clenches hard on Louis' fingers, which in turn makes Louis press down just right. If it weren't for that vague feeling that she misbehaved again, that there's a reason Louis stopped fucking and spanking her without any warning, she'd come all over Louis' desk right now.
She feels sharp teeth on her shoulder and then Louis clicks her tongue. "What did I ask you to do?"
It's hard to speak, much less remember something that happened five minutes ago, what with Louis rubbing her g-spot like she wants her to squirt right here on her paperwork. "I don't—Daddy, fuck—"
"Let me remind you," Louis fucking growls, and then she starts spanking Harry's right cheek, the one not pressed against Louis' crotch. Having less space makes Louis hit her that much harder, and every time her ass shakes she clenches around Louis' fingers and practically forces her to press down down down. "Eight, nine, ten," Louis finishes with a fantastic hit to the sensitive skin where her arse meets her thigh.
Fuck. Between Daddy and please and coming apart, she forgot to thank her. "Thank you, Daddy, thank you so much—ah—thank you for giving me so much, I love you, thank—thank you." Even through Harry's babbling, Louis didn't stop making circles with her fingertips. Even through the pleasure rippling through her, Harry's sniffling a little, can't believe she forgot the one thing Louis asked of her.
"You're my good girl," Louis assures her suddenly, caressing Harry's side with her free hand. "Just need to remember not to lose yourself, don't you?"
Harry should probably say something meaningful now, but all that seems to be coming out of her mouth is I'm so sorry and thank you and please. Louis notices that one. "Please what, love?"
"I'm—" Her feet are tingling and she can feel herself bearing down and it's not time yet but she just feels so fucking dirty and good and—"I'm close, please—please stop."
Louis stills completely. "You don't wanna come?"
Harry shakes her head roughly, thinks it might be a test. "Wanna please you more than anything Daddy, just want you." She even moves her leg back an inch, sighing when she feels Louis' pussy against her thigh. Louis exhales sharply, and then shuffles away from Harry to slip her fingers out of her. After being fucked so hard Harry just feels empty, doesn't really know what to do with herself, until Louis' leg fits between her own again.
It's a bit awkward with Harry still bent forward, but Harry doesn't even feel it, too caught up on Louis humming in her ear and grinding against her and murmuring, "Should fuck you from behind in bed more often. Could straddle the back of your thigh and just use you to get myself off. You won't even be able to watch."
Harry whimpers in protest, too turned on to filter herself, and probably too loudly given Louis' reaction. Of pulling Harry upright and sticking her wet fingers in her mouth. It kind of defeats the purpose, as Harry whimpers even more loudly and starts sucking Louis' fingers clean, but whatever. Louis just starts spanking her again, more fast than hard. Without having to count she can let herself drift a little, between the thudding pain and the taste of herself on her tongue and the feeling of dripping between her thighs.
At some point—probably when Louis slipped a third finger into her mouth—Harry started losing it. She doesn't even notice what she's saying, until Louis frees her mouth and it all tumbles out in time with Louis' slaps. "Fuck me—oh—fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, please."
Louis stops spanking her for once, and somehow Harry knows they've had enough. She feels more content than she has in weeks—between her coursework and Louis being a successful businesswoman, it's hard to find time for good, long spanking sessions. That might have contributed to this whole afternoon delight plan. Anyway.
Louis lets go of her hair and takes a step back, until she's not touching Harry at all. She finds herself panting into her elbow, too exhausted to lift herself from the desk. "Daddy?" she mumbles, hoping if she sounds pleading enough Louis will come back.
"Yeah?" Louis asks, a smirk in her voice.
Harry makes grabby hands that Louis probably can't even see. "Touch me."
"Thought you wanted to get fucked?"
Harry doesn't understand why that might make Louis not touch her right now, until she does. She straightens up so fast she's dizzy for a moment, and looks at Louis with wild eyes. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," Louis says with a wolfish smile, and then she's kissing Harry hard. Harry's breathless in seconds, her brain screaming at her a mixture of pleased daddy and love of your life. She doesn't even notice Louis subtly moving her, until they pull apart and Louis spins her around again. Instead of the side of the desk, now her crotch is lined up precisely with one of the smoothed, rounded edges of it.
The implication doesn't sink in until Louis spanks her one more time and Harry's shoved forward, so the hard oak is rubbing against her cunt spectacularly. Louis' hand lingers on her arse for just a moment before she lets go. The last thing she does is gently push Harry forward again, which Harry takes as permission to grind against the desk. She must have made the right call. "Good," Louis decides, right in her ear. "Dirty girl."
Harry instantly flushes, heat passing through her because she is, she is dirty, spanked within an inch of her life and begging to get fucked and wet enough that it doesn't even hurt to rub off on the edge of a desk. "Slutty," she chokes out.
"That's right," Louis whispers, her clever fingers trailing between Harry's legs and teasing her opening for just a second. "You're a slut for this. And you're gonna ride this desk like you can't fucking help yourself, and then you're gonna ride my cock and you'll remember to thank me."
"Daddy." Harry moans so loudly she surprises even herself, and it seems to prompt Louis into action. Unfortunately, instead of bending her over and fucking her for real, Louis just walks over to the chair. And then picks up Harry's scarf. And then she balls it up in her fist and Harry's mouth is gaping before Louis even approaches her.
The last thing Louis does before shoving the makeshift gag in her mouth is run the scarf between Harry's legs, so that it's her own taste that explodes on her tongue when she closes her mouth. There's a hint of Louis, too, and Harry's mouth is so full and she spreads her legs and stands on her tiptoes so she can grind forward and feel the wood against her hole. Then she moves down slowly, so her lips are already spread and then—fuck, it's right on her clit. It's too hard to be pain-free, and she's still wearing her stupid dress, but she's been so close for so long that it doesn't even matter, she could get off just like this. Louis certainly doesn't help anything, walking around her office wearing just a nice blouse and heels.
Her arse. If Louis doesn't fuck Harry enough from behind, Harry more than makes up for it when she fucks Louis. It's just so nice and round and plump and a perfect handful and Harry likes arses, okay. It's not her fault her girlfriend has the best one in the world.
She fucking knows it, too, bends over excessively instead of crouching when she reaches the safe in the filing cabinet. The safe with the emergency strap-on.
Louis assured her twice already that it hadn't been there before Harry started working for her, but she refused to explain exactly when or why the strap-on made it in. Harry likes to think it was during the week she wore cheeky panties and kept accidentally flashing Louis. Whatever it was, it's served her incredibly well so far, but always after the office had completely emptied out. Maybe they both came to work feeling mischievous today.
"Harry," Louis says admonishingly, making a chill run through Harry and snapping her back to reality. In which she's rocking against the desk so enthusiastically she's drooling around the scarf and feels like she would come if Louis so much as brushed a single fingertip against her. She also might be crumpling up some papers in her sweaty fists.
She lets go of the papers she'd accidentally grabbed, and then her hands naturally move to her own arse. Her eyes drift shut at how good it feels to be touched like this after getting spanked. She's digging her fingers into the no-doubt reddened skin and pumps her hips fast. She knows it'll hurt in a couple of hours, maybe even just a couple of seconds after she comes, but for now it's pain that pushes her so close to edge she can taste it.
"Stop," Louis says firmly from somewhere behind her, and her body just does, even if her mind is still looping on close close fuck close. She has to stumble back from the desk to stop anything from touching her and somehow regain her breath. It's highly possible she'll spontaneously orgasm anyway, until Louis says, "Good girl," and Harry feels pleased down to her toes and infinitely calmer.
Of course that's fucked to hell when she turns around and finds Louis sat in her big executive—daddy chair, legs spread, hair wild, and a thick, orange dildo strapped to her groin. Despite all the conscious efforts Harry's put into not coming, her hand moves completely on its own to her crotch. They have a few dildos at home, some sparkly, some vibrating, and one rainbow-coloured, but this one is. This one is Louis' cock. This one means Harry's definitely in for a ride.
"Take off your dress and bra," Louis says, her hand reaching down to stroke the silicone cock slowly. Harry feels almost hypnotised by the movement, ends up pulling her dress off without unzipping first and probably tearing it. Whatever. Once she's naked there's a long moment where she watches Louis watching her, and then, "Take the scarf out of your mouth and come here."
Harry spits it out unattractively and then wipes her chin daintily with the dress. She's always felt comfortable and natural naked, but right now there's something about it that makes her shiver—standing in an office in her workplace in the middle of the day with one of her best friends sitting outside. So Louis can't really blame her for being particularly ungraceful when she stumbles over to the chair.
Louis smiles up at her fondly when Harry straddles her hips. She's helpless not to bury her fingers in Louis' hair and kiss her slowly, some part of her still trying to convey thank you Daddy thank you I love you thank you. It's not enough, though. She's past a certain point. She needs Louis to tell her what to do, and as soon as she realises that she lets out a pathetic Daddy and Louis' smile turns smug. Like she was waiting.
Then there's a hand squeezing her arse firmly, and she's sinking down and oh oh oh. Louis' other hand snakes to her hip and she takes full control, keeping Harry hovering in place with just the tip of Louis' cock inside her. She lowers her so slowly Harry can feel every inch stretching her out and it's like her whole body's opening up to take Louis in. She wraps her arms around Louis' slim shoulders and ends up whimpering into her neck, daddy daddy daddy, until the word's practically lost its meaning.
Once Louis' all the way inside her she feels so full she can't breathe, stuttering little ah ah ahs against Louis' sweaty skin. Louis' hands settle on her arse comfortingly and every time she squeezes Harry clenches, resulting in more tiny moans. "Good?" Louis asks, kissing Harry's temple.
"So good, fuck, you feel so good," Harry whispers back, stumbling over the words. "Please, Daddy."
Louis kisses her again. "You can start."
"Thank you," she says, relieved, and then straightens up so the dildo drags inside her almost all the way out, before sliding back inside and almost overwhelming her again. Without Louis grabbing her hips or fucking up into her, her rhythm is choppy, trying to cling to Louis more than anything else. She really just wants to feel close to her, but it ends up leading to Louis' mouth clamped on one of her nipples, sucking hard and scraping with her teeth and god, Harry's sensitive like this.
Being less focused on the dildo filling her so deliciously allows her to take it better. Her hips move almost on their own accord, back-and-forth more than up-and-down. It's about more than getting fucked, it's about having Louis inside her, completely and effortlessly and so good she can't stop shaking.
"Come on, baby," Louis cuts off the reverent silence, her breath hot on Harry's chest. "Know you can ride me better than that."
The urge to do better—to be Louis' good girl—takes over everything from that point. She lifts up and then slams back down, grunting from the friction and the way Louis' hands tighten on her so much it hurts good. She works her fast and deep, bouncing in a way that makes Louis stare at her tits in awe. She's weak for Louis looking at her, though, always has been. She tries to keep up, she really does, but it doesn't take her long to whimper a desperate Daddy please.
And then Louis takes over. She grips Harry's hipbones and starts moving her roughly, helps her with the motion so Harry can focus on the angle. Louis' touch is bruising and Harry's left moaning helplessly, riding her into the leather chair and trying not to lose herself in how good all this feels. On a particularly good downstroke her back arches, and Louis latches her mouth on her nipple so fast she moans loudly. It's then that a thought occurs to her: Louis might allow her to come from this.
With a new bout of motivation, Harry whines prettily in Louis' ear and starts pumping her hips in the right direction, digging her nails into Louis' shoulders in a way she knows will spring Louis into action. Or at least into winding Harry up that much more. "Like this, baby girl?" Louis asks, gasping like Harry's fucking her for real. She's going to blow Louis again after she comes. She's going to blow Louis into next week. "Like fucking yourself for me?"
Harry nods fast, a continuation of the way her body rolls over Louis'. "Love you inside me," she gasps out. "Please, Daddy. Harder."
That's all it takes. Louis snaps her hips up just as Harry sinks down, and it's magic. They move together seamlessly, building the rhythm up and up until Louis' pounding her and Harry feels like nothing more than a heap of pleasure and mewling. The chair could be skating straight out the floor-to-ceiling window and she wouldn't even notice, fucked so good she's clinging to Louis for dear life.
"More," she whines, mostly unintelligible, mostly because she's forgotten that other words exist. Louis interprets it as an invitation to let go of one of her hips and slow her down, and then slip a finger alongside her cock. Harry makes a sound that might not be totally human—fuck, it's not even the stretch, it's not even the way it finally nudges the curved end of the dildo against her spot, it's feeling Louis inside her. But also her spot. And the way it stretches her.
Louis shoves her hips up, bouncing Harry's limp body in her lap and keeping her finger deep inside her. It feels so good Harry can't breathe, can barely hear it when Louis asks, "What do we say?"
It rushes out of her faster than she can form thoughts. "Thank you—fuck—thank you, thank you so much Daddy, nngh."
"Such a good girl," Louis whispers dotingly, directly hurtling Harry closer to the edge, so happy Louis' pleased with her she could burst.
"Yours," she gasps out wetly, burying the word in Louis' neck because it feels like her whole world hinges on it.
"Mine. My good girl." Fuck, just hearing it makes her feel better than getting fucked. "Think you could come from this, darling?" Louis asks, fucking her even harder than before, like that's supposed to help her answer.
"Yes, please, please Daddy m'close." And she is, she can feel it in her fucking toes, her pussy clenching so tight she's sure Louis' finger hurts. Her whole body feels like it's locking up and pleasure is clawing at her gut and then—
Jesus Christ, Louis takes her soaking wet finger out of Harry's cunt and pushes it up her arse. Harry cries out and arches her back sharply, shaking so hard she feels like she might fall off entirely. It burns and she's so full, she's full of Daddy, she's going to come with two holes full.
It's over as soon as that thought crosses her mind. She bears down hard on Daddy's cock and Daddy's finger and hits her own spot so perfectly her vision blacks out for a moment and she comes harder than she's ever come in her fucking life.
It takes her forever and half to stop twitching, and even then she keeps moaning softly with every exhale, existentially happy and settled and still rocking gently to make it last even longer. Louis chooses that moment to start stroking her clit, and Harry crumbles completely, rides it out straight into another, weaker orgasm.
Louis holds her tight for a few long minutes, peppering kisses all over Harry's face and whispering toe-curlingly sweet things into her ear. "I'm so proud of you, kitten. My good, good girl. Took everything I gave you so well. Do you know how much I love you? It's ridiculous."
Harry giggles, loose and sleepy and so full of love. And dick, but that's okay. "Love you too, Daddy."
Louis smiles against her. "Feel good?"
"Perfect," Harry rushes to say, nuzzling Louis' neck and trying not to yawn. Well, not exactly perfect. "Can I make you come again?"
"You can barely lift your head, idiot," Louis says with a fond chuckle, but she grabbed Harry's arse again in a very telling way.
Harry gasps exaggeratedly. "You're right, my god, I'm so tired, I've lost all control, I'm melting right off of you," she says, and then starts to theatrically climb off the chair.
Harry constantly tries to be mature and suppress anything petulant or capricious—a direct result of having and trying to keep an older woman as a girlfriend—but finding herself on her knees between Louis' legs, with Louis laughing her head off in the chair she fucked her wild in, is a treat.
Louis falls deathly silent when Harry sucks the tip of her cock into her mouth. Harry sinks down slowly and hums, her own taste sharp on her flat tongue. She keeps her gaze trained on Louis, can't get over how beautiful she looks right now, flushed and sweaty, her pouty lips red and her gorgeous eyes tracking Harry's every move. It doesn't take long for Louis' hand to find her head and push her down a little, so she's really sucking her off.
Once all she can taste is the silicone, she lifts up and gives the tip a cheeky kiss. Louis sighs like she's too turned on to stop herself, and Harry cautiously hooks her fingers under the harness and waits. Louis gives her own crotch a lingering look, and then lifts up so Harry can pull on the straps and tug the harness off. Naturally, the dildo slaps awkwardly against her forehead and Louis' laughing again. It's totally on purpose.
It barely takes Louis ten minutes to come on her tongue again. Then it's two more hours before the office looks somewhat in order, smells somewhat like an illegal amount of air freshener and not pussy, and they're both dressed in clothes Louis' stashed here.
Once they finally come out of the office, the floor is completely deserted. And if Zayn left an extremely graphic illustration on a sticky note entitled YOU'RE rescheduling your FOUR afternoon meetings, it doesn't stop Louis from casually driving Harry back to her ridiculously posh flat rather than Harry's house.
While Louis showers Harry sets up the alarm that'll wake them up for work, and another alarm to remind her to pick up lunch for Louis so she has an excuse to get past Zayn. And probably fuck in the chair again. It's going to be a thing.
It's going to be a very good thing.