What Makes You Beautiful? | h.s.

62: bad luck*

*Charli POV*

"Harry."

"Yeah baby?"

"Get on with it already," I groaned, sitting up on my elbows and staring at him.

He nodded and removed himself, leaning over to the bedside table. He pulled open the draw and dug through, before turning around with a frown.

"I'm going to kill Niall," he mumbled, flopping down next to me on the bed.

"What did he do now?" I asked in mild annoyance.

"Your sister I'm guessing."

"What?" I stared at him, not too sure what he meant. "I'm lost."

"You asked what he did, I replied with your sister," he said, shrugging his shoulders. When I didn't reply, he took that as a cue to start speaking again. "He was obviously in our room because there were condoms in this drawer, and now there isn't."

"Wait, what?"

"He stole them, unless Gramps did which is gross because-"

"Harry, stop talking about my Grandpa," I fake gagged. He laughed and wrapped his arm around me, clinging onto my side. "So what does that mean? You don't have any more?"

He shook his head and let out a loud sigh, "No."

"Well then we can go buy some-"

"Charli, it's almost three in the morning. No where is going to be open."

"Oh, I forgot..." I pouted, burying my head into his chest.

"So I guess we won't-"

I pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him. I pushed him back on the bed, watching his brows contort in confusion. I inwardly smirked as I moved myself in between his legs, taking him in my hands.

"Shit," he hissed, hips bucking up involuntarily.

I moved my hands along his length like I remember doing to him last time. I seemed to get a proper response out of him, so I decided to mimic my actions.

"Oh my god," he grunted, lazily smiling down at me.

I wanted to completely make him lose control, and there was only one way I knew that would happen. I smiled and slowly leaned down closer to him, swiping my tongue across the tip. His body shuddered and his eyes slammed shut, letting out a string of curse words in response.

Proud of his reaction, I slowly wrapped my lips around him, painstakingly bobbing my head up and down. His hips bucked up again, forcing more of him inside, and I slightly gagged.

"Baby, I'm sorry. I didn't mean-" he rushed out. I looked up at him and winked, letting him know it was okay. "Don't do that. Not while you're doing that."

I pulled off, continuing to pump him with my hands while I looked at him innocently, "Do what, Harry?"

"You're killing me, you know that?" he threw his head back on the bed, forcing his eyes shut as I took him back in my mouth. One hand continued to match my pace, while the other held him down, resting on his stomach.

I'm not sure why I was so nervous about doing this, because it's not that horrible. As I keep bobbing up and down, one think I keep thinking about is how glad I am that I didn't do this for Zayn a lot.

Seeing Harry's reaction to this though, does make me slightly curious as to why he never wanted this. But thinking back to our relationship, I was just a game to him, so why not just go straight for the prize every time.