"Harry," I whined as he came out of the bathroom. "I offered you a massage thirty minutes ago."

"I have to smell good for you," he beamed. "But I'm ready now, I promise. Where do you want me?"

"Right here." I patted the bed next to me and he plopped down (almost gratefully).

I had taken my dress off a while ago and replaced it with one of my dad's old baseball shirts, so it was easy and comfortable to straddle his back.

"I feel like I'm crushing you," I breathed with a small laugh. "Just tell me if you suddenly can't breathe."

He answered with an 'Mhm' as I rubbed some lotion on my hands so we could finally start.

My hands began to move along his strong shoulder blades first, because I thought they needed the most work and they were the most tense. So I pushed gently and dragged my fingers along the outline of them, then carefully pressed into his muscle and kneaded slowly.

"Fuck," he said in a strangled voice. "Why haven't you done this before?"

I laughed. "Maybe because you're usually on top."

"We could change that," he chuckled. "Just say the word baby, I love it when you ride me."

"You're supposed to be quiet when you're getting a massage, you know," I reminded him. He mimicked zipping his lips and I continued kneading and pressing into his tight back, until finally his hard muscles were like putty in my hands.

I moved to his lower back then to his arms, repeating the same routine each time so every part of him was loose and relaxed.

He hadn't said anything in a while and it was nearly one o'clock in the morning, so I automatically assumed he had fallen asleep during the massage. But as soon as I rolled off him, he shifted onto his side and pressed his now obvious erection into my lower back.

"Baby," he whispered hoarsely. "Are you asleep?"

"No," I sighed. "But I'm tired so leave me alone."

He laughed quietly and pressed his lips to my neck- once, twice, three times before he spoke. "You don't want your side of the deal, then?"

"My side?"

"Yes," his hand began to migrate slowly down my front until it was stroking the inside of my thigh. "Your side."

*

"Harry," I gasped, my back arching towards him as he pushed a third finger inside me. "Stop, please."

Immediately his hand froze and a frown scarred his gorgeous lips, his lips hovering over mine as he pushed a strand of hair away from my eyes.

"What's wrong, baby?"

"It hurts," I pouted. He rolled his eyes.

"I thought you said you wanted me to stretch you."

"I did." I winced as he pulled away from me and settled back on his knees. "It just hurts."

"Then let's stop."

"Can't we just have normal sēx?" I groaned. He grinned and moved so he was hovering over me, supported only by his elbows by my head.

"That will hurt even more, sweetheart."

"Please?" I draped my arms around his neck and made my best puppy face, but he still shook his head. "I want it."

"You want it?" he asked quietly. "Say it again."

"I want it, Harry," I smiled. "I want you."

"Not Phillip?"

"I knew it!" I laughed, flicking his head full of messy curls. "I knew you were jealous."

He grinned sheepishly. "Of course I'm jealous. He got time with you that I didn't get."

"You've always had me," I argued softly. He let out a deep breath and kissed gently between my eyes, then slid down the bed towards my feet.

"Can't I just eat you out?"

I swallowed hard. "Well I wouldn't complain but-"

"Good," he beamed.

I nodded and he dragged my leggings down my legs and threw them aside, leaving me bare except for my bra.

"I love the way you look in this, princess," he smirked. "You'll definitely have to wear it again."

"Just-just touch me," I begged breathlessly. "Please, Harry."

He discarded my bra and immediately attacked my throbbing core with his soft tongue. My hips bucked, my hands tangled in his hair, and I couldn't suppress my loud moans as he nipped and sucked at me.

"Tell me how it feels, baby," he demanded, his hand traveling slowly down to palm himself through his sweatpants.

"So good, Harry," I gasped. "Fúck, keep going."

"You're such a good girl," he cooed as I heard his pants hit the ground. He was kneeling on the floor with my legs draped over his shoulders, his curls tickling my thighs as his head stayed buried between them. "Always such a good girl for me, aren't you?"

"What, do you want me to start calling you daddy or something?" I laughed breathlessly.

"Where did that come from?" He chuckled. I had to wait a second to catch my breath before I could answer, and he was clearly enjoying his power over me.

"Guys-" I let out a small gasp as he pushed a finger inside me. "Guys like it."

"Sweetheart," he grinned. "You can call me whatever you want."