Strings Attached (Harry Styles FanFiction)

15. One... Or Two?

(Cassie/Gwen edit in the sidebar!)

Cassie’s POV:

*Next Morning*

“Good morning, Angel.” Hot breath fanned out over the side of my face and neck. I jolted, eyes bursting open, jumping from the bed and away from the body beside me. Strong arms tightened around my torso holding me in place, preventing my escape.

“What the hell?” I gasped, wriggling in the hot embrace.

“Relax, Angel. It’s just me,” Harry’s deep chuckle vibrated behind me and I tensed.

“And how is that supposed to help me relax?” I hissed, rolling my eyes, tugging uselessly on his iron grip.

“You didn’t mind my being here last night...” He cooed,”Actually, you quite enjoyed it.” His tone was dark and I avoided his gaze, fearing the truths that would be revealed in the dark forest orbs. Groaning softly he shifted his weight, flipping me onto my back, climbing on top of me. I glared up at him.

“Do you mind, Styles,” I huffed, crossing my arms across my chest.

“You know, other girls would kill to be in your position,” he chuckled, trailing fire down my neck and across my collarbone with his lips. Gooseflesh raced to cover my entire body at the thrill of his touch.

“Oh, please please forgive my foolish behavior,” I rolled my eyes, grinning as a thought occurred to me.

“Oh. My. God.” I gasped, fanning my face with my hands, “I cannot believe that the Harry Styles is in my bed!” I squealed.

“Shut up,” He groaned, crushing his lips down on to mine, trapping my hands over my head. The kiss deepened and he guided my hands to the base of his neck. My fingers tangled in his hair, tugging on the curls. He moaned into the kiss, hands traveling down, inching beneath the thin fabric of my t-shirt and up my stomach, gripping my sides.

Gasping I broke away and his lips moved back down to my neck.

“I-I have to pee!” I stuttered, my excuse flimsy.

“Don’t mind me,” He rasped, pressing soft, thought-muddling kissed to the crook of my neck.

“L-let go.” He smiled against the skin of my neck but his grip loosened enough for me to slip free. I began to scramble out of the bed but stopped, heat rushing through my body. I yanked the duvette around me, glaring at him.

“Styles, where the fuck are my pants?” I cried, eyes widening at him in horror, blurred images from last night surfacing in my memory.  A fox smile curled his lips, dimpling his cheeks as he flicked his head towards the foot of my bed.

“Jesus Christ.” Cursing, I crawled to the foot of the bed, wiggling into the black lace boy-shorts before sprinting from the room. What the hell had I been thinking? How had I let that happen...

When I snuck back down to the hall a couple minutes later, I peeked my head through the crack in between the half open door and the wall. Dark lashes rested on rosy cheeks, auburn curls splayed haphazardly around his face and all over the mint colored pillows. Padding forward I gently eased the door open, rummaging quietly through my drawers until I found what I was looking for. Perching lightly on the edge of my bed, I began to draw. Through the light graphite markings a beautiful sculpted face began to take shape, dark, seductive eyes and full parted lips. The air stirred and my eyes snapped up to watch the boy lying prone in my bed. Forest orbs bored into mine, watching me with open curiosity.

“Like what you see, Angel?” He chuckled, propping himself up on an elbow.

“I’ve seen better,” I huffed, snapping my sketchbook closed, gripping it tightly in my right hand. I got to my feet and stood there for an awkward couple of seconds while his gaze raked over me, head to toe. I blushed realizing that while I had found my underwear, I was still only in a t-shirt. Tugging the salmon fabric down my thighs, I sucked in a deep breath.