19. smut.

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A slight whimper leaves my lips as Luke strengthens his grip on my thigh, undoubtedly leaving an imprint for me to look forward to in the future.

How cute, the mocking voice in my head says, It's like a souveneir from when you became Luke Hemmings' groupie for the night.

Speaking of heads, I can't keep seem to keep my own straight, for this has been a scene set in my mind now that I never thought would actually have the possibility to take place.

All of those pictures, captions, the tagged sexual references and the playful comments asking him to do things to me- now that it's all slowly coming true, I'm somewhat glad that I never deleted my Instagram when I had the chance.

"Come on, sweetheart," Luke murmurs. "Say it for me."

I can practically feel my heart doing more flips in my chest than it currently has in my life combined, and I'm afraid that he can hear it as I part my lips to speak.

"I..." say something. Anything. "Uh-" literally at all.

"Why so shy?" he asks, lips in a slight smirk. "You had a lot to say before,"

Luke's right. He's definitely right. I had a lot to say when he didn't know who I was, when I was happy being lowkey, when the only people who ever stumbled across my Instagram were the people I talked to.

I keep my lips zipped.

"I've read your captions," his voice is low and steady, his hand massaging up and down my inner thigh. Although the friction is gentle, it causes every single butterfly in my stomach to crash into one another as he speaks.

"You're pretty naughty on some of the things you say on there," Luke tells me, his tone still smooth.

I feel like I should be hanging my head in shame, ready to be scolded. "Not all of them," I mumble.

"It's not a bad thing," he chuckles, bringing his hand up to cup my chin. He turns my face ever so slightly in his direction. "You get a lot of comments, don't you, babygirl?"

"I-I guess so?" babygirl. Would now be the most inappropriate time to excuse myself, just so I can fangirl over the petname in private? Maybe.

"And I'm guessing they all know?" what?

I furrow my eyebrows slightly, confused. "Know what?"

"What you think about," Luke answers, sliding his hands between my legs. "What you think about when you see a picture of me," he begins to smirk, and I hold my breath. He leans forward, almost whispering in my ear. "What you want me to do to you."

There are a lot of things I want Luke to do to me, each and every thought better than the last.

But I can't exactly ask for that in this moment in time, because I'm having a hard time trying not to choke on my breath as it is.

Before I can even begin to form a sentence, Luke slides back, adjusting my frame so that I'm still between his legs, but within easier reach.

I look up at him, puzzled. But then I feel his lips against my neck, and how his hand is slowly dipping beneath the waistband of my shorts, and suddenly I'm not so confused anymore.

"Don't move," Luke mumbles softly, though his voice stays firm. "Stay still, and don't make a noise. If you do, I'll stop."

I nod, excitement bubbling up in my chest, trapping the butterflies and encasing them in a feeling I've only ever felt when I scroll through the porn I find on my Tumblr feed. Might be a little vivid, but it's the only right way I can describe it right now.

Luke presses his middle finger against the fabric of my underwear, right above the place I'm the most sensitive. The warmth of his hand makes me feel like I should be melting underneath him, for that's the exact effect he has on me.

I swallow thickly, breathing out a shallow breath as he smirks.

"Baby?"

"Mm... mhm?" I have to clear my throat to get my voice back, incapable of saying a single coherent thing.

"Tell me what you think about," he says, in a semi-demanding tone. I pause.

"W-What I think about?"

"I've seen it on your page," he says, beginning to run his finger along the lace material covering my heat. "But I want to hear it from you."

"All of it?" I blush.

"Just the things that make you feel good, sweetheart," Luke whispers, placing a kiss on my neck. I sigh blissfully. "I want to make this all about you."

I have about seven different flags going off in my head, each one repeating the undeniable phrase that includes both 'Luke' and 'Daddy', and I don't even try to push them away because I know it's true.

"I..." I start, sucking in a short breath. Luke looks at me expectantly, slowing his fingers, his expression only a little amused.

"-I think about your fingers," I eventually get out, my face reddening.

He nods, almost as if he approves of my answer, and I gasp as soon as I feel it; Luke completely slips his hand underneath my underwear, and the pad of his middle finger drags slowly up my heat.

The sudden movement causes me to jump slightly, and I unintentionally place a hand on his wrist.

I've never been touched there by anyone besides myself, and the thought of Luke Hemmings being my first makes my stomach clench in weird, yet exciting, ways.

"What did I say, Sophie?" he asks, his voice now stern. Because of this, I immediately remember the three simple rules he gave me just earlier on, and I release my grip.

"S-Sorry," I say, willing for Luke to get it over with, willing for him to do something that'll send me over the edge instead of just teasing me. "I forgot,"

"It's alright," he murmurs, and I feel his pinky finger and thumb spread out slightly, causing my legs to do the same.

I steady my breathing, or attempt to, in the best way that I can.

Luke bites his bottom lip, looking down and locking eyes with me.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this," he admits, chuckling breathlessly in a way, "Those pictures of yours always did tease me, sweetheart."

Jesus fucking Christ, I think, and if my brain was a person, it would be having a fully fledged panic attack right about now. He really looked through my Instagram.

Then again, he did tell me that he liked what he saw.

Which is a memory that doesn't currently help me in this situation, but I can keep a calmer mind this way; by thinking about other things.

It also makes it easier for me to wrap my head around the knowledge of the events that are taking place as we speak.

"So, so wet," I hear Luke hum, cockily. I purse my lips together, knowing that if I make a sound, I'll regret it. "What have I done, baby? What have I done to make you feel this way?"

You exist. "I-I don't know," I lie. His finger trails upwards, ghosting over my clit and making a quiet moan fall from my lips.

As if on instinct, I clamp a hand over my mouth, eyes wide. I never intended for it to slip out, but it did, and now Luke's looking at me with the wildest set of eyes I have ever seen.

Carefully, he pries my hand away from my face with his free one, the smirk returning to his once calm expression.

I watch as Luke pushes his blonde hair to the side, looking at me through his mischevious blue eyes.

"You broke another rule," he says, steadily. I resist the urge to groan; normal Sophie would probably be swearing like a sailor right about now, groaning at him to hurry the fuck up unless he wants me to finish it off myself.

But sexually-frustrated Sophie is nowhere near as bratty, even though I can bet money on the fact that it's what Luke was expecting in the first place.

"C-Can we forget about the rules?" I stammer, feeling his fingers beginning to speed up. They trace figure eights around my clit, gathering wetness from the hole before slowly dipping down between my folds. It's absolute heaven, but it's also torture. "Please," I whimper.

"Forget about the rules?" he repeats, looking more amused than before. "Ah, but there's no fun in that,"

"But-" I don't bother to finish my sentence, for Luke carries on working his magic on me and it seemingly spirals my mind way out of control. I end up having to grip onto the edge of the couch just to steady myself, and even that doesn't seem to help in the slightest.

"Are you close?" Luke murmurs, and I nod, throwing my head back.

He's right, like always; I'm nearing the edge already, and it hasn't even been that long. "F-Fuck," I moan, this time not bothering to surpress it, "Yes. Oh, god, yes,"

Then, with absolutely no warning, Luke moves his fingers away. His hand is still in the same position, but he has nothing against my clit; which in turn holds complete euphoria back from me. It's like he's holding it away, just out of arm's reach, but I can't get to it.

My eyes snap open. I narrow my gaze at him, a little dazed

"W-Why'd you stop?"

"Because. I need to hear it from you," he says, the confidence clinging onto his tone like glue. I then watch as he leans forward, bringing half of me with him. "Who makes you feel this way, doll?"

"You," I swallow, with no hesitance. I can't afford to stall anymore. "You do, Luke."

"Then you should know by now," he says. His fingers keep moving, and my head keeps spinning, but he speaks all the same. "You know what to call me."

I gulp. I never once in my life thought that it would come to this.

Although it's been a fantasy of mine for a while now, I never expected to get finger-fucked by Luke Hemmings on the couch of his million dollar mansion, being made to call him what I've been calling him ever since I discovered the wonderful world of smut and masturbation.

But stuff happens, even more stuff ensues, and sometimes it ends like this.

"Can you say it for me now?" Luke smirks, quite patronisingly. He knows I'll end up saying it anyway, because he knows me like I know me and unfortunately, that's just the sort of overly sexual person that I am.

"Who's the only person that can make you as wet as this, princess?" he repeats. I open my lips to reply, and as a reward, he speeds up the movement of his fingers. "Tell me, and I'll let you come."

"You," I breathe, and just when he's about to slow down again, I say my words so quickly that it feels like I'm chasing them. "O-Only you can, Daddy."

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