The Heist || 𝘩.𝘴.

『14』| 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙲𝙾𝚄𝙽𝚃 𝙾𝙵 𝚃𝙷𝚁𝙴𝙴

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
THE HEIST
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
CHAPTER
FOURTEEN
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
THE
COUNT
OF THREE
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

|________________________________|

[[ DIXIE. ]]

The sensation of time. The minutes in an hour, to the days in a week. I used to know how it felt having such a grip on it–the perception of time itself, yet the days in the national bank felt like the most immeasurable variable to time there was. The bank had to be sitting next to all the places that told a mystery, one like what happened on the inside. Of course nothing like the Mystery Spot, or the Bermuda Triangle, but the national bank had its own unsolved mysteries. No one beyond these walls knew, not even the hostages knew anything of the plan. I, on the other hand, was found dead center in the middle of it. But that knowledge brought Harry to me–closer, like a puzzle slowly being pieced together.

He was the mystery I'd find myself solving again and again, if I knew I'd end up right here, in the bathrooms, sitting on the tiles next to the barricaded windows. Harry slowly laid me down, both our breathing effortlessly syncing. His fingers slowly grasped the hem of my tee shirt, his green eyes meeting mine silently, waiting for approval.

I nodded, a soft hum leaving my lips, the culprit being my core aching to feel him lying between my hips.

With his grip on the fabric adorning my upper body, he pushed it up slowly, his hand brushing up against the skin on my waist as I helped to pull the black shirt over my head. He scooped me into his arms, as he leaned down, hovering over me.

Harry had been staring at me for a while, a long while. His gaze itself left me gripping onto the sensation of my core's pressure, something I found scandalous, yet precious. Slowly, I undressed, until I was naked, so did he, mimicking every little thing I did up until the point of the storm that was our stripped down skin amongst each other.

"Is this okay?" He murmured softly into my neck, sucking my neck until the electrifying feeling had led to where my core pleaded for his penis.

I nodded. "It's okay. Just... Be careful with me."

"Trust that." He grunted softly, stroking his dick until I felt it harden against my crotch.

Moaning, I screwed my eyes closed, feeling his penis penetrate me slowly, and then all at once, until I had taken it as a whole, until his hips bumped into mine.

Throwing my head back, my lips fell agape. His fingers gripped my neck, the pressure itself exhilarating me. He continued to thrust into me, feeling his dick harden gradually. Soon, the tip of his penis began pushing at my G-spot, in other words, the promised land. He had gently moaned into my ear, his cheek pressing against mine as our bodies intertwined without a single doubt, without a single apology for what would follow.

At that moment, I forgot about what the heist would bring, what the end could be. All it had been, was him and I. His steady gaze met mine as he continued to thrust into me at a steady beat.

"Harry." I squeaked, a shaky moan following.

"Fuck." He cursed. "Dixie, I'm going to cum. I'm going to fucking cum."

My lips crashed against his in a deepened kiss, our tongues entangling in the sensation of pleasure.

He had withdrawn his dick, a white sticky substance squirting onto my chest as he stood over me. Just as he did, I felt myself ejaculate, my face taut in the feeling as my fingers hovered over my body.