In which Fitz should have seen it coming.
Chapter 26
We were out of the corridor and into my room in a matter of seconds, the chain slid into place over the door to keep the whole world out. In a flurry, we kicked off our shoes, and I removed my necklace and earrings while Harry unclasped the watch on his wrist and flung off his tie. Then we reattached, desperate and yearning, grabbing onto one another in the narrow entrance as if those were our last few moments alive.
I didn't want to give him a spare moment to think about this, and it seemed he was eager to keep me from doing the same.
Harry had me against the wall, his hands massaging my breasts through the dress while I royally messed up his hair with my needy fingers. I whimpered into his mouth, spurning him on, and he ground his hips roughly into mine, sending a jolt of electricity through my bones.
He repeated this process while grazing his hands down my sides and grabbing a handful of my dress, tugging up the skirt so that it wasn't so restricting.
But I had other ideas. I was busy pushing the vest off his shoulders, popping the buttons of his collared shirt, and unlatching his belt. I meant business, and a testament to this was in the fact that I successfully undid his pants without looking and while nibbling on his lower lip. Harry thought I was finished and moved his hands back to my breasts, but I knocked his arms out of the way, gliding one hand down his exposed chest and abdominals before boldly plunging into his pants. Harry moaned against my lips in approval, forcing my head to tilt back so that he could kiss me even harder.
Gently squeezing him outside his boxer briefs, I was pleased to note that he was already growing in my hand. Even so, I wanted things to move faster, so I slid my hand past the elastic waistband of his underwear and grabbed a hold of him.
Harry broke our kiss with a harsh gasp. "Fuck," he cursed under his breath.
Thinking it was a gasp of pleasure, I kept going.
Shaking his head and wincing, Harry finally wrapped his fingers around my wrist and yanked my hand out.
"Jesus. Stop it, woman! Your hands are freezing." "... oh," I breathed, cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment. Of course – I'd been an icicle just minutes ago in the cold.
Harry paid no attention to my abrupt shyness and took both of my wrists in his hands, bringing them close to his mouth. With my palms next to his lips, he opened his mouth and blew hot air on them to warm them up. He did this several times, eventually covering my hands with his own and rubbing them together to warm them.
Satisfied, he let go of my wrists, breathing, "Okay. Okay, go."
I wished he would kiss me again to take the focus off of what I was about to do. The pause had blemished my confidence. Harry's eyes flickered from mine to my hands, and I knew he was waiting with high hopes.
Swallowing my nerves, I dipped my hand back into his underwear, chewing on my lip and focusing on Harry's face as I gently grasped him at the base. Instantly, his breathing shallowed. I trailed my thumb along his length to gauge his reaction before slowly sliding my hand up and then back down.
After a few of these swipes, Harry had to place one hand beside my head, palm flat against the wall to support himself. In his other hand he held a gathered handful of my dress, his fingers digging into my hip to hold me steady.
Feeling him respond underneath my touch, I increased my pace. Harry's eyes closed instinctively, gulping through parted lips as his breathing came in sharp, uneven puffs.
"That good?" I asked, brushing his earlobe with my lips.
He grunted before replying, "Yeah." His voice was thick and guttural, and I loved the way it reverberated in my ear, like it was meant only for me. "No, that's good," he coached me. "More."
I gave a gentle squeeze before my ministrations, pumping at a steady pace. "Hmm?"
"Yeah," he nodded vigorously, eyebrows furrowed in concentration even though his eyes were shut. "Yeah, like that. Ohhhh."
His head dropped to my shoulder as I continued to jerk him off, and I marveled at the fact that he was completely at my mercy. It gave me satisfaction, but I felt no real power – if anything, I craved his approval, wanting to prove that I could satisfy him just as much.
Harry wasn't at my mercy for long. Somehow, he found the strength to pause his breathy curses and said smoothly into my ear, "How wet are you? I don't know how long I can wait before I take you."
I turned my head to meet his lips for a prolonged kiss. As soon as my hand was out of his underwear and his pants were pooled at his feet, he whirled me around to face the wall, studying the back of my dress. The zipper was hidden under a tight bit of fabric, and he swore when he couldn't get it on the first few tries.
With my palms flat on the wall, I tried to give him guidance. "It's a small zip. If it's stuck, you have to pry it out."
Increasingly frustrated, Harry eventually managed to get a hold of it. I heard the sound as he unzipped it all the way down. He tried to pull the dress off of me but found that it was still stuck – he must have forgotten to undo the hook at the top.
That was another trial, and he was nothing but annoyed when I offered advice.
"Fuckin' dress," he cursed, his fingers fumbling like mad. "It's Satan's fucking labyrinth back here."
In all other instances, I would have ordered him to get himself under control – after all, it was just a complicated piece of fabric that had him swearing up and down – but I was turned on by his raw need for me. It pleased me to know that he couldn't wait.
Neither could I, apparently. When Harry was successful with the clasp, he practically ripped open my dress and slipped it off me in one fluid motion. Before I could turn around or congratulate him, his chest was flat against my back as his hand snaked around my waist and dipped into my knickers, immediately discovering that I was just as ready for him as he was for me.
"Oh, God," he moaned, dragging his lips along my shoulder to my neck as he slid a finger inside me.
I tilted my head to give him access, and the combination of my skin between his teeth and his finger curled inside me while his thumb stimulated my clit was too overwhelming for me.
So I sneezed.
Fuck was the first and only word that ran through my mind. Maybe Harry was right: there was something about being aroused that produced an unpredictable, unstoppable, violent response from my body.
I didn't have time to agonize over it, though, because all of a sudden Harry drew his hand out of my knickers and spun me around, a knowing smirk on his face.
"I love that," he growled, crushing my lips with his.
Without wasting a second, he slid my knickers off my hips. While I stepped out of them, Harry swept his vest off the floor and dug in the pocket for his wallet. Frantically, he opened it in a search, producing a condom before letting everything else drop to the floor.
He pulled me forward, hungrily kissing me before gripping the backs of my thighs and saying, "Up."
Arms around his neck, I hopped and let him catch me, instantly locking my legs around his waist and feeling his hardness between us. He placed the packet between his teeth as he carried me out of the entrance and into the room. My lips were latched onto his neck, but when I realized that he was taking fairly small steps, I pulled away to discover that he hadn't yet bothered to step out of his pants pooled around his feet. They restricted the length of his gait.
Harry tried to rectify this when we were halfway there, successfully pulling one leg out. He made a move to free his other leg in the middle of walking, but with me in his arms, he lost his balance and hopped a couple of times before tripping over the bed and sending both of us crashing down.
"Sorry!" he said, immediately pushing himself up to take the weight off me as panic flashed in his eyes. He relaxed, however, when he saw me laughing silently to myself.
"That was embarrassingly clumsy for an otherwise smooth fellow," I remarked while he rid himself of his underwear.
He nodded, void of amusement as he hastily opened the packet and rolled on the condom.
"If you like smooth," he said huskily, "then I apologize in advance for what I'm about to do."
With that, he guided himself inside of me and crawled up my torso as he pushed in inch-by-inch. I closed my eyes and dropped my jaw at the sensation, releasing a satisfied sigh. I opened my eyes again at the feel of his breath on my cheek.
"Ready?" he asked, eyes on me as our hips met.
"Bit late for that," I replied.
He grinned deviously before carelessly shrugging his shoulders. Then he grabbed my hip with one hand, steadying me before pulling out almost all the way. I gasped at the loss of contact, but my breath was stolen when he slammed back in.
I'd only just made sense of what happened when he did it again, knocking the wind out of my chest as he filled me completely.
"Holy shit," I breathed, throwing my head back and grabbing a section of my sideswept hair between my fingers.
The third, fourth, and fifth time, I was entirely out of breath, and simply let my mouth hang open as I waited for it to come, hoping that I wouldn't die from lack of oxygen.
"I'll keep going," Harry said in amusement, slightly gentler on the next thrust but still penetrating just as deeply, "unless you tell me to stop."
Unable to speak, I nodded in understanding, eyes still closed. I ran a hand along his strong back, digging my nails into his skin every time he pounded into me.
He adopted a steady rhythm – it was neither fast nor slow – but it was the force with which he thrust into me that was quickly driving me over the edge. When he spread my legs wider, the sensation was even more intense. I took my lower lip between my teeth, but the moans came anyway, begging him for more.
"That's it," Harry said breathily, not even flinching when my nails scraped his shoulder blades. "Are you close? Tell me."
Whimpering, I nodded enthusiastically.
Satisfied, Harry grasped my hips and practically lifted them off the bed for each thrust. I was firing off curse words this way and that, barely able to see straight and entirely out of control of my own body. There was a flame burning in my lower belly and tingles zipping up my spine, and though I tried, there was absolutely nothing I could hold onto in my thoughts other than how delicious he felt when he was buried inside me.
He knew I'd reached my peak when I could no longer assist in the thrusting and was left breathless and disoriented below him. Harry sped up his pace, driving himself to oblivion shortly after and collapsing on top of me.
It would have been easier to catch my breath without the extra weight, but I didn't mind – except for the fact that his chest was pressing into the wire of my strapless bra, which was tight enough as it was.
After a minute or two, Harry raised his head to check on me, relieving me of some of his weight.
"How are you?"
I pondered this for a moment, finally replying, "Thoroughly sexed."
"Really?" he asked, a slight frown materializing on his features.
"Aren't you?"
"I haven't done this in a month," he reminded me patiently, "and then not for two months before that. I could do it five more times and still be only moderately sexed."
It was true that Harry was used to doing this more often. The mention of it should have thrown me off. Instead, all I could think of was that in the entire time I'd been stringing him along, he hadn't taken a single girl to bed but me.
Only me.
"Let's do it again, then," I said, sweeping his hair off his forehead as a broad grin crossed his face and sparked a shimmer in his eyes. "But let me get rid of this bra first; it's killing me."
"Excellent," Harry whispered, as if we'd just made a business transaction.
He gave me room to sit up and pulled down the covers of the bed, urging me to climb in with him. I did, and once I'd propped my head on a pillow, I arched my back to unclasp my bra. "Allow me," Harry said, reaching behind and setting me free in one effortless motion. He kissed down my neck, gliding his hand up my side to cup one breast in his hand and taking the other in his mouth.
"I thought you didn't like those," I remarked as he hummed against my skin. "You agreed with Muffy that they were tennis balls."
Harry raised his head briefly, a twinkle in his eye. "Did I mention tennis is my favourite sport?"
I rolled my eyes. "There's a trophy shelf in our flat with substantial evidence that you're partial to football."
"Now you're just being difficult."
"I like being difficult."
"I've noticed."
Harry captured my lips in a lingering kiss as we finally took the time to properly explore each other's bodies. When I slid my hands along the lines in his back, I felt the dents my fingernails had left in their rough foray minutes before. While I'd thoroughly enjoyed his raw unrestraint in the moment, I was relieved that we'd slowed it down and taken a gentler route, for I far preferred being scooped up in his warm embrace.
The mood had changed. Once powered by lust and desperation, we were calmer, more patient and much less rough with one another. In fact, as Harry peppered me with gentle, attentive kisses, the only way I could describe it was tender.
"I'm glad you asked me to stay," he murmured against my lips.
I nodded, playing with the curls at the nape of his neck as I lifted my hips to grind against his. This earned a moan from him – he was fully hard again.
"Harry?" While he covered my neck with slow kisses and I raked my fingers through his curls, I asked, "Were you just looking for sex to comfort yourself after a bad day?"
He hesitated for only a moment, asking, "What do you mean?" before returning to the task at hand.
"Could it have been anyone tonight?"
Briefly chuckling, he buried himself in the spot between my shoulder and my neck, sucking the skin there so harshly that I knew it would leave a defining mark. He mumbled against that same spot four words that both frightened and comforted me: "I only wanted you."
We rolled onto our sides, touching and nipping and grazing and licking until finally, my leg clamped around his waist, Harry entered me for the second time. Cradled in his arms, I sighed in satisfaction. He groaned at the feeling of my muscles tightening around him, temporarily allowing his lids to shut. "You feel so good, Fitzy," he murmured, tangling a hand in my hair. He opened his eyes, studying me as we moved. "How do you feel?"
"Mm," was my deliriously content response.
I rolled my hips into his, and we moved in silence for a few moments before he spoke again, his voice strained and thick with need.
"Tell me what you want."
The words were an order, but from his lips they fell like a pleading request.
"Why?"
The feel of his chest against mine and strong arms wrapped around me was enough.
"So I can make you happy," he replied, as if it was that simple.
For him, it probably was. I wasn't sure about Harry, but I'd been sobered by our previous shag. If that was the case for him, then he'd remained in my room as a comfort but felt he had to give in return.
What he didn't know – and what I had trouble admitting, even to myself – was that I wanted this just as much as he did, if not more.
There was something about Harry Styles that weakened me, causing me to tremble at the thought of his touch.
Pressing his lips softly to mine, Harry looked straight into my eyes and asked, "How do you want me?"
Against my better judgment, I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back.
"Slow, like this," I answered, and he nodded as I met his hips in a thrust. "Then, when we can't stand it anymore, quick and hard."
If he had a differing opinion, he concealed it well.
"Okay," he murmured, and those were the last coherent words we spoke before losing ourselves in one another.
*
Early in the morning, I awoke on my side, face-to-face with a sleeping Harry. Our noses nearly brushing startled me to such a degree that I jolted in fright, shaking the bed. My jarring movement woke Harry, whose eyes fluttered open only to register how close we were – then he, too, recoiled in shock at our proximity.
"Yeah. I did that, too," I admitted, shifting back on the pillow to give him more space.
He blinked several times, his eyes still bleary after being roused from a deep sleep, and then he raised his brows to force them open as he mused, "Apparently neither of us are used to sharing a bed."
I nodded awkwardly, staring at him as I pulled the sheets up and tucked them under my arm.
"I'm too lazy to move, though."
Harry gave a small smile. "I'm too hungover."
"Are you?"
He nodded under hooded eyes.
"I thought you were a little wasted last night."
Unconcerned, Harry yawned. "Did you?"
"Mm hmm." Sliding my hand under my pillow and reveling in the coolness, I added, "I feared I was taking advantage of you."
That earned a chuckle from his lips. "Maybe the alcohol's distorted my memory, but I distinctly remember taking advantage of you."
The sensation of Harry's hips colliding forcefully with mine was still fresh in my mind. Heat crept up my neck as I relived it, and I was suddenly aware of the soreness between my legs. Nothing unbearable, but undeniably present.
"S'fine just lying around," Harry continued, "but I really could do without that train ride home" The reminder of our return journey called me to attention.
"Do you have the time?"
Harry raised his wrist and, realizing he wasn't wearing a watch, propped himself up on an elbow to check the digital clock on the nightstand behind my head.
"We have half an hour," he said slowly.
"Shit," I cursed, making a move to get out of bed when Harry grabbed my arm and pulled me back down. "
Half an hour until we have to start getting ready," he corrected himself.
Unconvinced, I rolled over to check the time myself. As it turned out, Harry was right.
Harry took this opportunity to sidle up to me from behind, wrapping an arm around my waist and planting kisses along my shoulder and up my neck.
"This is merely a suggestion," he said between pecks, "but I have an idea on how to spend the next thirty minutes."
His touch calmed me, his body warm and inviting. Relaxing my shoulders to give him better access to my neck, I asked, "How's that?" Of course, I was well aware of his intentions, but it was made even clearer when his hand travelled between my legs, lazily exploring as he found a sweet spot on my neck and zoned in. I shut my eyes, sighing deeply in contentment as I savoured the feeling of a proper 'morning after'. It wouldn't be terrible to wake up to this every day.
It was when his middle finger nudged into my opening that my eyes flew open and I hissed in discomfort, my stomach clenching in reflex.
Harry paused. "What?"
I shook my head. "Don't do that."
Apparently I'd offended him, because he rolled me onto my back while he stayed on his side, looming over me. "Why not?" he asked, a disturbed frown engrained in his features.
"It's nothing," I replied, wishing he wouldn't take it so personally. My menial effort was futile, because Harry's frown only grew. Grinding my teeth under his scrutinizing gaze, I studied his forehead rather than his eyes as I said, "I'm just a little sore from last night, that's all."
"Sore?"
I shrugged, certain that my cheeks were turning pink. "You were – we were rough." Echoes of his deep thrusts still rang in my body, and while I relished them, they also had a lingering effect on my nether regions.
Harry's expression softened. "You should have said something."
It was my turn to frown. "When?"
"Last night. I told you to stop me if it was too much."
He was genuinely concerned about this, and while I felt a surge of affection for him, I couldn't help laughing. "Well, I didn't feel sore last night," I assured him, fondly pushing his hair off his forehead. "In fact, it felt rather lovely."
It took a moment for him to come around, but I coaxed a smile out of him.
"Rather lovely?" he asked, gathering me in his arms. "That sounds much too proper to describe what took place in this bed last night."
Our chuckles fading, we exchanged a heated glance before his lips descended on mine in a slow kiss.
Harry pulled back, lost in contemplation as his eyes searched my expression.
"I feel bad that I hurt you," he finally admitted, quiet and genuine.
I brushed it off. "Don't be silly."
After all, he hadn't forced me into rough, mind-shattering sex. It might have even been my idea. Besides, it wasn't an acute pain – I was only a bit tender. It didn't warrant an apology, but that was what he gave when he thought he'd caused me pain.
I could have dwelled on that mind puzzle for hours, but I didn't have more than a few seconds before Harry descended on me again.
"I can make it up to you," he said against my lips.
I was intrigued. "How?"
He didn't respond verbally, but I had a pretty good picture of his intentions when he ducked his head under the sheets and began to kiss down my torso, nestling himself comfortably between my legs.
"Harry," I began in standoffish manner, grabbing a handful of his curls. "Harry, don't—"
He grabbed my wrist and pried my hand away from his hair, and it was nothing but a lump in the sheets at my midsection that promised me, "I'll be gentle."
Though I was wary, I made no further protests, responding with a shudder when he dragged his tongue along the inside of my thigh and met my aching warmth.
My tongue darted between my lips before I chewed on my lower lip, fighting a string of expletives that were threatening to explode out of me at the glorious sensation accompanying Harry's slow, torturous lapping.
It wasn't to curse the high heavens that I broke the silence, however – it was to laugh.
At the sound of my giggles, Harry stopped quite abruptly, snaking up my torso to look me in the eyes and demand an explanation.
Head poking out of the sheet, which still covered his hair and ears, he asked with a frown, "What's so funny?"
"Nothing." I smiled. "Your curls are tickling me."
Once so offended, he relaxed above me, cracking a smile before dipping his head and shaking his hair all over my belly like a mop. That set me off, and my giggles were contagious, infecting Harry as well.
Just as suddenly, he stopped, his smile fading as he popped out his head again to look at me. He placed his index finger to his lips.
"Now shh," he commanded in a whisper. "Trying to work here. No more out of you... unless you're moaning my name."
And moan his name I eventually did, over and over, when our fingers were entwined and the fire in my belly was only slightly less powerful than the fire in my heart, but roaring just the same. Harry's free arm hooked under my thigh and held me in place as I fought to squirm, overcome with pleasurable sensation.
Afterward, he crawled up my body, his head peeking out of the sheets, eyes wide with expectation. His face fell when he saw me in a state of recovery, struggling to regain my breath.
"What?" I asked, nervous about his disappointed expression.
He crawled the rest of the way up, hovering over me as he muttered, "I missed the good part. Watching you while you come."
Even after what he'd just done, I still blushed at the comment. Harry smirked in amusement, but not to give him the upper hand, I snapped, "That's rude."
He chuckled, and something told me he knew all about my diversion tactic but would play along anyway. "It's not rude. It's very polite. In fact, you might say thank you."
I sighed, mumbling, "Thank you." Still smiling, Harry lowered his head to meet my lips in a brief kiss. I added quite cheekily afterward, "Idiot."
We kissed again, deeply this time, and I wondered how difficult it would be to let all this go. I wasn't numb to Harry's charm, after all – the more time I spent with him when his walls were down, the more affection I felt for him.
The less I relished hurting him. A feat I'd once thought impossible, I now knew that it was a very real possibility. I'd begun to doubt that he behaved this way with every girl he took to his bed
"How was that, anyway?" Harry asked, a slight frown on his face as he anticipated a critique. I shrugged nonchalantly.
"Not bad."
"Not bad?" he laughed. Playing along, he shrugged as well. "Sounded like you enjoyed it."
I crinkled my nose, reluctant to boost his ego. "Did it? Hmm. It was all right."
He held a close-lipped smile, his eyes searching my face, challenging me not to break down. I stared back as if I had nothing to hide, eventually reaching up to smooth his disheveled hair once again.
"You're very stubborn," Harry mused, closing his eyes as I pushed some hair off to the side.
"You're very persistent," I returned.
When I'd done all I could do for his hair, I finally allowed myself to smile, lifting my head and craning my neck to offer him another kiss. We fell back on the pillow together, grinning into the kiss, and I wrapped my arms around his neck to lock him in.
Entirely entangled by every limb, Harry and I had each other in a tight embrace when we pulled apart for a breath. He rested his forehead on mine, smiling warmly. Then his expression faded, eyes soft but serious as he studied me. He shut his eyes as he took a breath, and my stomach clenched involuntarily, knowing that the mood had changed.
When he opened his eyes again, they were a brilliant green, and I was certain that no one in the world had seen them shine like I had.
Bound together in an intimate position with my attention on him and him alone, Harry chose that moment to say, "Fitz... I'm in love with you."