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freedomfireflies · 9 months

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The Playboy*

Summary: The year is 1965, and you and Harry both work for Hugh Hefner at his Playboy Mansion. You as one of Hugh's Bunnies, Harry as Hugh's assistant.

The only problem?

Hugh has forbid you to see each other.

But when has that ever stopped you?

Word Count: 6.4k

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞You are so much more important!*

Cool. Fresh. Wet.

Nothing beats a hot summer day like a swim in a large, refreshing pool. Absolutely nothing. Except maybe some lemonade.

And poor Harry has already downed about four cups since he exited the mansion and sat himself on the porch to watch you all play.

He doesn’t think you notice. Doesn’t think you see the way he’s been staring at you. Eyes glued to your figure from behind his dark sunglasses, and from behind the glass of lemonade at his lips.

But you do. Of course you do. He’s not one for subtlety, and today is no exception.

He’s trying to behave. Trying not to make it so obvious that he’s painfully hard in his swim trunks. Perhaps even hoping that you’ll have mercy on him, and take yourself from the group to aid in his problem.

But you can’t. Not today. Not with all the other Bunnies around. Not with Hugh only a few feet away.

And it’s not like you’re making it easy on him. Not with the way you’ve been diving into the pool, your ass in the air, almost as if begging him to come over and drive himself in.

Or with the bathing suit you’ve chosen. His absolute favorite. The one that hugs each of his favorite curves. The one that shrinks the wetter it gets. The one that magically unties if it's put under too much pressure, revealing a little bit more of your skin…

Sure, it’s a bit cruel to taunt him this way.

But how else are you gonna help him learn?

"Oh, you girls tease too much," Hugh is laughing from his spot on the ledge. "No, I can't come in."

"Come on," you all coo, lightly splashing his legs with water. "Please?"

He chuckles once more, waving you off playfully as Harry’s eyes roll.

He’s sulking in his seat, a fresh glass of lemonade in his hand as he slumps down with a huff. It’s rather entertaining, if you’re being honest. Despite being Hugh’s assistant, Harry has never seemed to care for the man.

You have a feeling it has something to do with his rule about never interfering with his Playboy Bunnies.

Like you.

Or maybe he’s just bitter about the fact you seem to be winning this unspoken game.

Truth be told, you like being a Bunny. Like the freedom the mansion provides. Like that you’re in control of your own sexuality.

And, as it turns out…you like being Harry’s little fucktoy, too.

Almost as much as he likes being yours—

“Hey,” Laura is laughing to your left, pushing some water your way. “Where’s your head?”

With a sheepish grin, you swim closer. “Sorry, just…enjoying the sunshine.”

“Ah, I get it,” Laura replies kindly before moving back. “I’ll leave you to it.”

You send her off with a quick wave and a laugh, watching as she paddles over to the small waterfall.

And now, left to your own thoughts, you can’t but allow your mind to wander back to Harry. To every delicious detail of the man sitting a few feet away.

The way his body looks when it’s wet. Wet with you, wet with water, wet with sweat.

It’s sinful to imagine. The memory of him under the stream in his shower, suds covering his skin, curls soaked and wild, and his body just begging to be touched. Admired. Adored.

Truthfully, it takes all your willpower not to march right over to him and sit on his lap.

Among other things.

However, with Hugh so close, you’re forced to look away with a smile, ignoring the way your body is practically pleading with you to ease the ache forming between your thighs.

You’d likely take care of it yourself, but after growing so accustomed to the taste of Harry, you’ve begun to yearn for it.

And despite the way you’ve been teasing him all afternoon, you have to admit, his appearance is just as sinful.

His clean, white t-shirt that you know is hiding his beautifully tan skin. His gorgeous, thick thighs that you love to sit on. His fucking cock that you absolutely adore bouncing on.

Of course, he’s certainly not helping with the way he’s relaxed in his chair, legs spread out, elbow on the armrest, and two fingers rubbing along his temple in thought.

You can’t see his eyes from behind those dark glasses, but you already know he’s watching you. You can feel it, all the way down to your cunt.

Get in the fucking pool, you silently command, letting your attention linger back to his face for a moment longer than it should.

But it seems his resolve remains, ass glued to the chair as you resist the urge to pout.

You just want him closer. You won’t do anything. You’ll be good. You’ll behave.

You just…you need to see him. Need to be near him. Need something to help aid this uncomfortable itch you can’t scratch.

You’re both playing a dangerous game, and the longer he takes to cave, the more determined you become to make him.

Struck with inspiration, you swim back over to Laura, who’s lazily floating near the edge of the pool.

She smiles when she sees you, and seems intrigued when you motion her closer so you can whisper something in her ear.

Out of your peripheral, you see Harry lean forward in his chair, seemingly desperate to be privy to your conversation.

But all you’ll allow him to see is the way Laura nods, her smile slipping into a smirk as she guides her fingers to your shoulders.

In turn, you grab onto her hips, and bring her closer until your chests meet.

She exhales a gentle sigh when your lips ghost along the sharp edge of her jaw, squeezing your arms as if to encourage you to stay.

With a dramatic grunt, Harry looks away. You know he’s trying to defy you. To put an end to this little charade before it can start.

But he’ll look back eventually. You know he will. He just can’t help himself.

The kisses become more focused, and you move down Laura’s neck, pushing her up against the tiles for more leverage.

Laura, in turn, gently slides the straps of your bathing down until they hang gracefully near your elbows. Your chest isn’t exposed just yet, but it’s enough to catch Hugh’s attention.

She giggles as the older gentleman laughs encouragingly, seeming to think this was the point of your performance.

And to be fair, it kind of is. Hugh likes to see his Bunnies getting along.

Or…getting it on.

Harry being here is just a happy coincidence.

The rest of your bodies are hidden beneath the cool, blue water. Making it impossible for anyone to see the way you’ve trailed your fingers along her thighs.

But they don’t need to see. They know it’s happening. And that’s enough.

Laura smiles into your kiss, tugging on your bottom lip to convey her consent, and you’re quick to move your touch a bit higher.

You see Harry move forward in his seat, and you can already imagine the emotional turmoil he’s being put through. He’s trying to be nonchalant, but when Hugh moves, effectively blocking his sight, he begins to scowl, making you smirk.

Still, you carry on, playing with Laura a moment longer as you drag the tips of your fingers along the fabric of her bathing suit. You add just a touch of pressure over where her clit lies, but go no further. You suppose you could if that was truly your intention, but today it’s not.

Her lashes flutter, head rolling to the side as she tugs you closer, nearly pleading with you for more.

But then Hugh is clearing his throat, calling your attention to him, and you figure that now is as good a time as any to stop.

“Having fun without me?” he asks with a teasing smile. “Come on, girls. That’s not fair.”

Noticing the way Harry is anxiously bouncing his leg, you straighten up. “Why don’t you join us?” you ask of your boss, watching as Harry’s teeth begin to grit.

“Maybe,” Hugh replies with another chuckle, “if I didn’t have such an important meeting to get to.”

The rest of the girls all begin to coo their disappointment, begging him to stay before he can even stand up.

And he laughs, eating up every one of their delicate touches and soft cries for his attention as Harry once again rolls his eyes from the porch, lips pressing together to suppress a look of disdain.

Laura leaves your side so she can swim up to Hugh and you finally take this opportunity to sneak yet another glimpse of the man to your right.

He's still leaning back into the seat, his sunglasses perched on the tip of his beautiful nose, and the tan of his skin glistening with sweat underneath the hot sun.

You would drool if you could, eyes flicking across each part of his body, drinking him in the way he's now drinking his lemonade.

A moment later, Hugh is standing from the ledge, dusting himself off as he waves goodbye to his favorite Bunnies.

And you watch him go, rather eagerly, because now there's nothing and no one standing in Harry's way.

You just hope he realizes it before it's too late.

Thankfully for you…he does.

The second Hugh has disappeared into the mansion, Harry is standing from the chair, calmly striding closer as you pretend to casually swim toward the waterfall.

You’re calling out to him, and he knows it. The slight catch in your breath as you duck beneath the stream of water enough to solidify this.

He begins to approach. Slowly, of course, pretending to only be going for an afternoon swim as his fingers find the collar of his shirt.

He pulls it up and over his head as a collective gasp rolls over the women already in the pool.

But you know he doesn’t notice. Know he has absolutely no idea the power he holds as he slips off his shoes and heads for the deep end, obviously to the way they stare at his chest.

Everyone turns to watch him dive from the ledge, his technique quite impressive as he submerges himself completely beneath the water, heading straight for the waterfall where you reside.

You feign innocence, hopping up onto one of the decorative rocks as you squeeze some of the liquid from your hair.

But your heart leaps when Harry finally breaks through the surface, now only a few inches away, sage green eyes nearly glimmering as bright as the sun.

He smirks at the way you stare before he’s shaking his curls back and forth, laughing when little droplets find your cheek.

In turn, you squeal, cowering away with a scrunch of your nose. “You’re like a dog.”

He smiles softly, wading closer until he can settle right in front of your dangling legs. “I prefer the term beast.”

Despite his playful tone, your thighs begin to squeeze a bit tighter together. “Is that so?”

“Mhm.” He’s far too smug as he takes hold of your calves to guide your legs apart, creating the space he needs to stand. “It is.”

You sneak a glance toward the mansion, desperate to make sure you won’t be caught before leaning back on your hands. “Just because Hugh isn’t here doesn’t mean you can be.”

However, he merely pulls at his bottom lip with his teeth, one shoulder bobbing up innocently. “Not doing anything.”

You nod your chin toward where his body is slotted between your thighs. “Oh, no?”

"No," he repeats, amused. "Just doing my job."

"Your job is to help Hugh."

"No. My job...is to take care...of his precious Bunnies," he whispers, focus lingering on your mouth as your breath hitches. "So that's what I'm doing."

His fingers are getting tighter around your skin, continuously pulling until almost every inch of you is touching him.

God, you want to indulge him. In the feeling. In his touch.

But you can't. Not here, not with everyone around.

No matter how badly you need it.

"Harry," you warn sternly, “let go."

"No."

Firm. Resolute. He doesn't move an inch, nor does he back down from what he truly wants.

Which is you.

And deep down, you know you don’t want him to. Don’t want him to leave you or take his touch elsewhere.

But you glare at him, anyway, now taking hold of his jaw with a firm grip.

"I thought you were a good little Playboy," you mock, hoping to intimidate him, but to your dismay…he smiles.

"I am being good," he replies coolly. "I'm doing exactly what you want."

"And what is it I want?"

Another soft hum in the back of his throat as he straightens up. His lips near yours, his eyes moving down for a only moment as he whispers, "For me to take you right fucking here. In front of all your friends. Until you're sobbing into my hand, begging me to let you come while they watch."

Your eyelids grow heavy at the thought, and from the sweet words slipping from his tongue, coated in sugar from his earlier drink.

He's divine. Telling you exactly what you need to hear despite the fact that you can’t do any of it.

"You'd love that, wouldn't you?" You turn the question on him, needing to put him in the spotlight if you hope to make it out alive. "To feel me squeeze you so fucking tight?"

Your fingers move to his wet curls, brushing them back along his forehead until he nearly melts into your touch.

But his jaw is still tense, features mischievous and full of wicked intent as he lets you paint him the perfect picture.

"Yeah?" you murmur softly, the tips of your touch moving down his cheek in a gentle caress. "Bet you’ve been waiting all day to feel me, haven't you? Poor little Playboy...know you're fucking dripping for me, aren't you?"

He smirks. "Think you wanna find out, don’t you?’

Once again, the question is returned to you, and despite the cocky smile you give him...he's right, and you both know it.

You shrug. "Maybe another time," you reply casually, moving your hands to his chest so you can shove him away. "Go on, now."

However, he's back between your legs before you can shut them, now grabbing at your hips in retaliation. "Uh-uh, Bunny. That's not how you play nice."

You snort. "I never play nice."

"You will today," he corrects. "If you want what I can give you."

Shit. Your pulse spikes as you glance over his shoulder toward the oblivious group near the shallow end. "Enough, Harry—"

Suddenly, his grip tightens, yanking you right to the edge of the rock and forcing your aching cunt to collide with his lower abdomen.

His expression grows tense as he nearly hisses, "I'll tell you when it's fucking enough."

Your lips part in protest, but before you can really reprimand him, his hands are sliding over the tops of your thighs and toward the hem of your bathing suit.

You know exactly where he's headed, the tip of his forefinger hooking underneath your suit until he can pull it away from your soaking cunt.

But just before he can really get a feel, you’re grabbing onto his wrist, pausing his attempt as you once again look toward the crowd of girls. "Har—"

"Shh," he hushes softly. "We're just talking. Nobody knows, sweetheart, we're alright."

Your chest begins to rise and fall quickly as you struggle to wrap your head around your current position.

If you truly wanted him to stop, he would, and you know that. But you also know that he knows...you want it.

Which is why he's refusing to let you fight him.

When you don’t answer, he pushes his finger further in, finding your dripping core as you reel, legs already attempting to close around his body.

He clicks his tongue, head tilting as he looks up. "You know better than that, Bunny."

And perhaps you do know better. The lingering sound of the rest of the women laughing in the distance enough of a reminder.

But the idea...knowing they're so close to your dirty little secret. That they could discover what you’ve really been doing—who you’ve really been doing—this summer enough to remove all common sense.

It's thrilling and that, coupled with the curl of his finger, is enough to have you whimpering.

Harry is quick to dip his head down, forehead meeting yours as he hushes you once more. "Don't make me cover that pretty mouth. I'd hate to fucking do it—"

"Your fault," you retort, fingers gripping the edge of the rock to steady yourself. "Shit—"

"Don't make me stop," he repeats, grunting softly as he quickly thrusts a second digit inside until you bite your lip. "All right? Be quiet and take my fucking fingers like the good Bunny I know you are."

Your breathing becomes labored as you lean back to look down, loving the way his arm flexes as he forces himself inside, veins taught against his skin.

"No,” he grunts, his nose nudging yours until your lashes flutter upwards. "No, you look at me. Yeah? You look at me. Don't let them know."

You nod once, doing your best to comply, but to be quite honest, it’s not that difficult to focus on his beautiful face. Thick eyelashes that lead to his stunning eyes, a pool of their own you could drown in.

You search his familiar features for your favorite parts. The dark pink of his lips every time he licks them, the cute tip of his nose, the indents on his high cheekbones.

Sometimes you can't believe that such a beautiful face is making you feel such wonderful things. Your stomach twisting, toes curling, and cunt clenching around him as he does this to you.

It makes the pleasure tenfold and suddenly, nothing in the world can stop you from leaning closer and kissing him.

You’re quick with it, only a light peck, but enough to taste him. Enough to have him growling in the back of his throat as he goes harder, doing his best not to push you back against the rock and split you in fucking half.

And when you innocently look down at him again, he almost loses his last ounce of composure, forcing himself to remain calm as he stills his fingers for just a moment. "Are you gonna be quiet for me?"

You tug on your lip once again, squeezing him so hard it begins to ache. "Maybe. If you do it right."

You love to push him. Love trying to find his temper, find his rage. Find what pushes him over the edge until all you see is white-hot bliss.

But this game can be played by two, and to punish you, he brings his soaked fingers up to your clit, pinching it tightly until you choke on a whine and lurch forward.

"Shut up," he hisses again, his expression menacing. "Don't ruin my fucking fun."

You want to be cocky. God, you wanna show him who's really in charge. Wanna fist his hair, squeeze his pretty throat, and force him onto his knees. Wanna purr in his ear until his pupils blow out the way you love. Wanna know his body yearns for you.

But right now, you can’t. And he knows it. Which is why he took the opportunity to have you in front of everyone. To force your silence, your submission. The one thing you can't ever seem to be.

You want to take back your power. Want him to understand who really holds all the cards.

"Sweetheart," he warns darkly when he begins to piece together what you have planned. "Don't."

With a demurred expression, your head slowly rolls to the side, a smile sweeping across your lips. "Don't what?"

His teeth scrape together as he drives his fingers harder inside your cunt, trying desperately to stay casual while also forcing you to give him what he wants.

"You will come for me," he retorts, leaning his lips closer to your ear. "Do not fucking play this game with me, Bunny."

"Not...a game," you pant softly, eyes fluttering shut when you feel his hot exhale against you neck. "Just not gonna come."

"Enough," he nearly snaps, thrusting forward until you’re forced to press your lips into his shoulder to suppress a whine. "Be my good fucking girl. Know you can be."

You don’t respond, instead simply clenching around his fingers as a reminder of what he's missing.

"Fuck." You can tell he's losing his patience and if you don’t comply soon, he might do something you both regret. "I know you wanna soak me, baby. Know how fucking bad you wanna feel it. Don’t be difficult.”

His focus is entirely on you. Despite his limited options, he makes sure that everything he does is blindingly sweet. Every curl of his finger or press of his thumb to your clit. He wants you to know nothing but pleasure. Nothing but release.

You will come for him. You will. You know he won't let you leave this fucking pool until you have. He'll show you exactly how dangerous your little games can be.

The low, dangerous tone of his voice has you praying to deities you don’t believe in, the stars behind your eyes overpowering your common sense.

You don’t know if you’ve ever seen him this determined, but you can't say you don’t adore it just a little.

"Bunny," he warns again just as you choke back a whimper, “you know what I fucking want, yeah? So give it to me—"

"Guys!" a voice suddenly calls, causing Harry's movement to still as he calmly meets your eye.

With a racing pulse, you move your gaze from Harry's indifferent expression to the group of girls near the other end of the pool.

They're laughing, waving you both down as they drink their lemonade and toss a beach ball around.

They don't seem suspicious, but truthfully, you can't truly be sure.

"Relax," Harry instructs in a confident murmur. "We're just talking. Stay cool, sweetheart."

So, after a quick clear of your throat, you straighten up, fingers subtly wrapping around Harry's wrist that’s hidden from their view. "Yes?" you call back, forcing a comfortable laugh.

"Come join us," Laura begs, glancing between you. "Both of you! We never see you around, Harry."

This is true. If Harry isn't with you, he's with Hugh. And if he's not with Hugh, he's with you.

Which is exactly how you’d both like to keep it.

And even if he wasn't currently knuckles-deep inside your decadent cunt, you imagine he still wouldn't oblige.

This is proven when he turns to glance over his shoulder with a forced, tightlipped smile. "No, you girls have fun. I'm about finished, anyway."

You want to smirk at the double entendre, but instead...you pull his wrist even closer to your aching body, his brow quirking when he feels you clench around him.

"Maybe another time," you answer for the both of you, a slight waver in your voice nearly undetectable to anybody else but him. "You...you have fun, yeah?"

Laura pouts but doesn't give up quite that easily. "Come on, you two can chat any old time."

Unfortunately, that's not the case, and Harry refuses to let the few moments he's allowed to be with you in the public eye go to waste.

So, as Laura continues to plead with you, Harry slowly pushes in further, stretching you until he can drive his fingers harder, making your nails scratch down the rock.

"Really," you insist breathlessly. "I'm good right here, ladies. Just...just gonna soak up a few more moments in the sun."

"Not the only thing you're gonna soak, hm?" Harry whispers softly, although the venomous tone in his voice has your breath catching. "Gonna soak my fucking fingers first."

He's determined, you have to give him that.

But...so are you.

And as the group continues to wave you down, you begin to subtly rock your hips against his hand.

He’s so very pleased when he feels it, lips curling up into a dangerous grin.

“You are,” he decides. “Yeah? Gonna soak my tongue. Soak my face. And then…you’re gonna soak my cock.”

You look away from the girls still laughing, completely oblivious to the filthy things he’s saying to you only a few feet away.

“Gonna take me so well,” Harry continues in a hushed whisper. “Like you always do. Gonna let me use this pretty pussy, hm? Let me make you mine—”

"Easy," you quickly warn, glancing toward the mansion. "Behave, Playboy—"

"Come for me," he says again. "Come on, Bunny. Don't make me beg."

Truthfully, that's exactly what you’d wanted him to do, and the second he says it...there’s a gleam in your eye.

He should have known better. After all, you’re nothing if not consistently stubborn, but right now, you know he'll do anything to feel you flutter around him.

"Sweetheart," he murmurs, forcing himself to take a deep breath. "Please. Need to feel you so fucking bad."

He can do better, you think, smirking at his needy tone to prove it.

You imagine he’d roll his eyes if he could, but it seems as if his cock is making all the calls for him.

So, with a rather annoyed but depraved whimper, he says, "Please let me."

The transfer of power to you has your cunt clenching pitifully and it's all you can do not to scratch you nails down his back.

And it's at that moment you realize you’ve made a horrible mistake.

Because you are going to come for him. And there is no way no fucking way you’ll be able to hide it from the twenty people still lounging around the backyard.

Your fatal flaw has always been your noises, and while they might be Harry's favorite part, you can't say it’s doing you any favors right now.

However, it's much too late to stop it, and as the orgasm begins to rip through you, Harry jumps into action.

His body, which was already mostly blocking you off from the rest of the crowd, moves even closer to you, turning in such a way that he can slap his hand over your pretty lips.

"Shh," he repeats softly, watching as your eyes flutter shut and you moan into his palm. "Attagirl. So fucking good for me, yeah? You're all right. I've got you, sweetheart."

It’s sweet and sinful all at once. Too much to handle and not nearly enough. A few fingers alone has you seeing stars, and you know this is only the tip of the iceberg with him.

You feel spent, and it’s not even over yet, your body practically melting through his as he does his best to keep you firmly planted to your spot.

Thankfully, the attention of the group has moved elsewhere, leaving you enough privacy to catch your breath without their suspicion.

But that doesn't mean you’re out of the woods yet.

After allowing you a moment or two to regain clarity, Harry clears his throat. "You're gonna stand up," he instructs next, casually looking around the yard as if completely disinterested. "You're gonna stand up, you're gonna get out of this pool, and you're gonna meet me inside."

You hum, not wanting to give into him quite yet. "I don't know, the girls seem to really desire my company—"

"Bunny," he interrupts firmly, the relaxed edge disappearing as he shoots you a look of warning. "Do not test my patience. I haven't much left to offer."

You want to be smug, but the comedown is still strong, and you can tell your body isn't through with him yet. "Eager, are we?"

"Very," he grunts, moving closer so he can whisper his promises into your ear. "So be good, little one. And I promise I'll make it worth it."

Your eyes widen as he pulls away, watching while he swims away from you and toward the other side of the pool. He grabs onto the ledge before hoisting himself up and out, his body dripping deliciously onto the cement as every girl in the yard watches him go.

And he doesn't look back once. He simply grabs a towel and heads through the double doors, disappearing into the mansion and leaving you breathless.

You can hear the group chattering about his looks, his body, his charm. And you’ve never felt jealous before but, in this moment, something changes.

So, you head for the edge of the pool as well, rolling your eyes as you hear one of them gush, "Ugh, we need to invite him to the party tomorrow night."

Truthfully, you’d already thought about inviting him, but now the idea of having to share him and his body with this bawdy crowd has you fuming.

"Harry is not a toy to be played with," you decide to call, now grabbing a towel for yourself as they look over. "Hugh made that very clear. You girls know better."

Immediately, they all nod, feeling small under your authoritative gaze. You hadn’t meant to sound so cross, but you suppose it does make you feel a bit better knowing you might have scared them away.

Satisfied, you smile as you head for the house, making sure to dry every droplet from your body before focusing on your hair.

You scrunch the towel through as you go, eyes scanning the large rooms for any sign of Harry.

Yet you don’t find him.

You suppose he could be in the coat closet; the same one you met him in a few nights ago.

But upon further investigation, you find it empty, and you brows begin to pull together.

You can't very well call out his name, and he gave you no further instructions past meet me inside.

The infuriatingly sadistic man.

You can hear the girls beginning to find their way indoors as the window of opportunity grows smaller and smaller.

After all, once Hugh returns, you’ll all be forced into your next activity. Which, unfortunately, does not include Harry splitting you in half the way he promised.

You begin down the third-floor hallway, looking in each room for any sign of the curly haired troublemaker, but to no avail.

You’re moments away from giving up altogether when behind you, the sound of a door opening as your upper arm is snatched onto, and you’re being tugged backwards.

You already know it's him, yet that doesn't stop you from whirling around to chastise his behavior.

However, the second you do…you realize where you are.

Hugh's bedroom.

Honestly, you hadn't thought Harry would be dumb enough to hide in here of all places, but the look on his arrogant face seems to prove otherwise.

"Harry," you gasp, yanking your arm from his fingers before looking around. "Are you out of your goddamn mind?"

“Probably, yeah," he exhales softly—lustfully—and you don’t doubt it for a moment. "Can’t help it. Gotta have you right now."

His hands are already attaching themselves to your hips, shoving you back against the closed door before kissing you deeply.

He's like an animal, touch-starved and ravenous, pulling at your bathing suit until it falls from your shoulders.

But you aren’t as easily convinced, and you place your palms on his chest to shove him back. "Harry, not in here—"

"Yes, in here," he corrects, stepping up again. "Nowhere else go to, sweetheart—"

"He could come back any minute," you attempt to argue, but don’t stop him from running the tips of his fingers up the sides of your thighs once again.

And when he realizes what little conviction you have, he smirks, dipping down until your noses brush. "Then you better turn around."

You feel your breath hitch at the dark edge in his instruction, but he doesn't give you enough time to comply before he's grabbing your waist and flipping you around until you chest meets the hard surface of the door.

You feel him crouch to his knees before he's tugging the rest of your suit to your ankles, lifting your foot so he can slip it off quickly.

Your palms help steady you against the door as he moves in, lips pressing kisses along the back of your thigh as he moves higher, cursing under his breath at each delectable taste.

He lets his tongue flatten along your soaking core, taking in each drop as he groans into your cunt, hands pulling on your hips as if trying to yank you down onto his face.

You can’t help but whimper softly, nails scratching along the wood, and head reeling.

Then…he stands up.

Stands up, grabs the back of your neck to force you away from the door, and slings you over toward the bed.

He's rarely rough with you, instead one for a more delicate approach. But this change in demeanor sends chills down your spine as he shoves you onto the mattress, face first.

He angles your ass up, bending you over the edge of the bed before easily quickly feet apart. He runs his fingers along your tight, little hole for a second time, greedily pushing inside just to feel you out while you gasp.

"God, you're such a fucking whore for me, aren't you?" he seethes from behind you. "Fuck, sweetheart. You are, aren't you? Say it—"

"Yes," you answer immediately, hands clutching onto the comforter as you drop your chin to her chest. "Yes, Harry, please—"

"Uh-uh,” he interrupts, cutting your delicate begging short. You imagine if it were any other time, he’d indulge in the way you plead with him. But today, you don’t have the time.

He pulls his cock free, fisting it tightly before meeting your sweet cunt for what you hope is only the first of many times today.

He groans when he feels you, and your ego swells, teeth gritting at the feel of him pushing through your soft walls.

He doesn't wait, doesn't go easy, doesn't warn you. He simply grabs onto the pole of the headboard with one hand, your waist with the other, and fucking drives himself as deep as he can go.

Your mouth finds the duvet as you bite hard into the fabric, letting a scream rip through you as your body practically levitates with pleasure.

It seems to roll right over and through you, all the way down to your toes and the tips of your fingers.

He lets you catch your breath before pulling out and thrusting back in, creating a slow tempo that he knows will drive you fucking mad.

"What would your precious Hugh think of you now?" Harry sneers and you swallow a needy mewl. "Huh? If he could see you? Fucking gripping his sheets? For me?"

Truthfully, you don’t even want to imagine what Hugh would think, so you simply whisper Harry's name, the rough pads of his fingers engraved in your mind.

"His precious, little Bunny," he continues, almost bitterly. "Mine to ruin."

And you believe him. Believe that you’re really his to devour anyway he sees fit.

At least right now.

"Knew what you were doing, didn't you?" he taunts, and the sound of it hitting your ears makes you clench. "Wearing this fucking bathing suit when you knew I'd be watching."

Another sharp thrust, his hand moving from to your hair so he can tug a whimper from you.

"And Laura," he continues, which makes you want to smirk. "Think you're so fucking coy, don't you, sweetheart? Thought you were playing with me, hm? Thought you'd make me mad?"

You want to nod, seeing as he's right, but you don’t get the chance with the way begin propelling toward the edge of release.

You move your hips back, meeting his thrusts with slow, sensual rolls as he begins to kiss along your shoulder blades.

"Didn't make me mad," he mumbles, lips brushing along your skin as he talks. "Just made me sure that you're a little fucking whore who needs to be watched."

Again, you can't really disagree with his flawless observation, but you can straighten up until your back meets his chest.

His thrusts falter for a moment at the change in position, but he invites you in greedily, nuzzling his face in the crook of you neck as he wraps one arm around your lower stomach and moves the other to your clit.

He toys with you for a moment before you wrap your hand around his wrist, pulling it from her soaking cunt so you can bring it to your mouth.

You suck his fingers in, dancing your tongue around the remnants of yourself as he curses in the back of his throat.

It’s cruel, and he yanks himself free so he can grab onto your throat and force your head up.

"Be a good girl and swallow," he seethes, the low threat rumbling like thunder.

So, you do as instructed, and once you have, he pulls your face to the side so he can kiss you, letting himself get a taste.

It's never felt so good, never felt so right.

Fucking on Hugh's bed, despite his rules and his ego. And if you could, you would lock you both away in this room forever, and never stop. You’d have him. Always.

It becomes a race to make each other finish first, your pride desperate to prove something you can’t explain.

Each moan, each thrust, each pinch. It's not for your own pleasure but for each other's. Needing the release, needing the feel.

Needing to know only you can make the other feel that good.

And when you finally hit their high, you see angels. A symphony of breathless pants, curses, and whimpers that have your sweaty bodies collapsing into each other.

You whisper each other's name like a plea, knowing nothing else but each other as you do you best to regain a grip on reality.

Harry doesn't let go. He keeps you firmly pressed to his chest as if to claim you as his. Because right now, you are. You’re not a Playboy Bunny. You’re not Hugh's. You’re not a sexual object to be shared with the world.

You’re his.

Only his.

His devil in disguise.

And right when you’re deciding that nothing will ever feel better than this moment...a throat clears from behind you.

With wide eyes and racing hearts, you turn around, coming face to face with Hugh himself.

"Well, well, well. And what do we have here?"

Thought I'd give the Playboy series a little x Reader makeover!! I won't do every part, but I figured it would be fun to see certain chapters from another POV!! 😭

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

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