Personal Assistant ➵ H.S.

46

Many drinks, laughs and happy tears later you and Harry were stumbling into the chauffeur-driven car ready to head home.

You were still reeling from the wonderful words Harry had promised you after watching Niall propose to Emmy, and a fluttery feeling had settled over your heart and not left since.

It was crazy to think that you were looking at your future husband. You'd wished for this your whole life; to be with a man who, without even realising, shifted from your boyfriend to husband so easily and seamlessly. And with all the subtle comments Harry had made in the past month alone it was clear where your relationship was eventually heading.

Usually you'd be a bit scared by the thought, of caring, trusting, loving someone so deeply as you did Harry, but instead it only brought you a sense of peace. As though something had clicked and fitted itself together in your soul.

Harry's earlier sensual ministrations hadn't slackened either; his hands had left burning, fleeting brushes against your skin all night, his hazy green eyes tracking your movements across the room with a promising, wicked gleam that had you squirming.

And now that you were finally alone, well almost alone save for the driver - who's sleek black car conveniently had a partition between the front and back seats - your body was near thrumming with anticipation of what was to come.

Settling back into the plush leather seat, you turned to grab the seatbelt, but Harry's hand was already one step ahead and grabbing the material as he leaned towards you, "Allow me," he purred into your ear, pressing a kiss to the point just behind your earlobe and sending a small shiver down your spine.

You gulped as you leant back again just as Harry began to pull the seatbelt across your body. His knuckles grazed your dress over your breasts, stomach and finally your hip purposefully slowly and you tried to maintain your uneven breathing but to no success.

The click of the buckle sounded and your shoulders eased a little, assuming that Harry would stop his little teasing onslaught with you. But you were absolutely wrong.

His hand stayed hovering around your hip, picking up the folds of your dress every now and then with the tip of his finger. Harry hummed a low tune, feigning an unawareness of his actions as the car pulled away from the curb.

You huffed quietly, knowing deep down you should've expected this teasing behaviour from Harry, and also knowing that you truly did not mind for a single second. But instead, you were already feeling the aching pulse between your thighs as Harry slowly inched the hem of your dress up.

"Harry," you warned quietly around a breath, even though you knew any attempt to stop him was going to be useless.

"Yes my love?" He murmured close to your ear again just as his explorative fingers finally grazed the soft skin of your thigh, goosebumps trailing in their wake.

"Stop teasing," you whispered, all too aware of the lack of conviction in your words as Harry's gentle touch moved to the inside of your thigh and began to trace idle circles across your sensitive skin.

You attempted to clamp your thighs around his hand to try and stop his movements but Harry clicked his tongue under his breath, "Usually you're so eager to spread your legs for me baby."

A low whimper left your lips as your thighs disobeyed you and relaxed purely just from Harry's words. You glanced at his face to notice a smug grin taking ahold of his features as he felt the reactions of your body to him, knowing he had you right where he wanted.

"Promise you'll be quiet?" He questioned huskily, just as his pointer finger brushed against the clothed apex of your thighs and probably felt the dampness already there.