24th September 2019 (continued)
As soon as Harry and Eloise emerge, arm in arm, back upstairs on to the roof, they're set upon by Gemma.
"Where did you leave your bouquet, hun? Some of the oldies are going to head to bed soon, and it's your last official duty for the night!".
As Eloise panics, drawing a blank as to where she left it, they head towards the other side of the terrace.
In a bid to soak up some of the booze, and sustain energy levels for the dancing still to come, some of the tables are adorned with little plates of home-made pastas and pizzas. The wedding cake has also been cut up, tempting those with a sweeter tooth.
She breathes a sigh of relief when Isabella approaches with both a smile and her bouquet in hand. "It was behind the bar".
Announcing the end of his set over the speakers, Grimmy explains that Alexa will take over in five minutes after everyone has first gathered by the fireplace.
>
With her back to a gaggle of chattering girls, lined up at the ready, Eloise eyeballs their slightly nervous partners, gathered in front of her.
Lucas stands to her side, coaching line out instructions, opposite the gathered guests, watching on.
She has fairly good aim, as it happens, and makes a play of limbering up her arms and shoulders, and popping her long neck to either side in a stretch.
After a sneaky glance behind her, she turns back to face the guys and singles out her indirect target. With a quirk of her eyebrow and a cheeky smirk, she surreptitiously shifts, correcting her angle.
Tossing the bouquet over her head, she spins on her heel to watch it's arcing descent, laughing as the girls eagerly clamour for it.
Then - bam - bang on target.
Glenne's competitive leap didn't surprise her in the least. She should have known Rosie and Gemma would be vying for it too. Gigi, Florence and Phoebe were surprisingly gung-ho as well, but Maya and Molly's enthusiasm took her by surprise.
>
Once she's escaped the girls' clutches again, Eloise heads towards the bar, intent on her mission to finally get some water.
She squeals in surprise when an arm hooks around her waist and tugs her in.
It's Alessandro, beaming as he twirls her into his side. "Che bellezza!", he coos, admiring his handiwork.
Shaking off her impromptu pirouette, with a hand to his arm to steady herself, she looks up and takes in the slightly random assortment of guys with him.
Harry, Ollie, Mitch, Jeff, Liam, Grimmy and Zach. They're each holding shot glasses - doubles, by the looks of it.
Jeff pounces and playfully wrestles her into a headlock - payback for successfully firing the bouquet straight to Glenne. They've been together forever and she's not the first to give him a less than subtle nudge.
After telling him to keep a firm hold of her, Liam proceeds to swipe a lime and then sprinkle salt up the arch of her long neck.
"Watch the dress!", Alessandro frets, before Harry manages to rescue her from their clutches.
Chuckling, she can't help but roll her eyes, "Oh, go on then... Quickly, before it drips!".
"Oh, no, no... Ladies first!", Zach sing-songs, twisting from the bar to pass her a double shot of her own.
At least it's tequila.
They cheer as she gamely throws it back.
She's still grimacing and shaking it off when Harry steps close, wrapping an arm around her waist. Dancing his fingers up her bare back to cup the nape of her neck firmly, he promptly downs his shot. Tilting her head, he ducks to lick a broad stripe up the side of her neck, before pulling her in for a hot kiss.
With the kick of the tequila just offset by the tang of the lime and salt on his tongue, it's enjoyable enough for Eloise to ignore the lewd cheering of the guys around them after they see off their own shots.
But it's Grimmy - shocker - who takes it a step further.
"You better hope he's not had too many of those, for later...", he heckles crassly, elbowing Eloise a little too enthusiastically, subtle as a brick.
Stumbling into Harry's chest, she breaks from his kiss with a roll of her eyes. Pointedly ignoring Grimmy, she makes a play of insouciantly draping her arms over his shoulders. Then, rising on to her tiptoes and craning her neck, she whispers sultrily in his ear, only egging the guys on more.
"...And, that's my cue to leave!", Ollie deadpans, ushering the others back to the dance floor to give them some privacy.
>
All day, each time they tried to snatch a moment alone together, they'd been continually interrupted.
So, sensing their opportunity, Harry swiftly guides Eloise to the far corner of the roof terrace.
Caging her in his arms, with her back to his chest, they survey the view - from the moonlit bay, all the way around to all their guests, under the light of the twinkling fairy lights. Whilst some hardy souls are still on the dance floor, many are gathered around the tables scattered between the bar and fireplace, happily grabbing a bite to eat and chatting.
"Grimmy's talking shit, by the way... As per usual!", Harry drawls lowly. "You can absolutely expect fireworks later". He punctuates his promise with a naughty flex of his hips into hers from behind; juxtaposed with a sweet kiss behind her ear.
"Unless I can convince you on that quickie after all, hmm? A little firecrackin' preview... What do you say?", he adds, ever so temptingly.
She can hear the smirk on his lips, sponging kisses down her neck as he tries his luck, deploying all his irresistible charm.
The tequila's definitely hit.
At her coquettish, tipsy giggle in return, he grins wolfishly. She feels that too. As she does his right hand, when it drops from the railing to her hip, then, obscured from view, teasingly ventures into the thigh-high slit at the front of her skirt.
She'd practically forgotten about the pale blue silk garter, sitting high on her right thigh, but he definitely notices it. "Whoa, whoa, whoa!", he whistles, running his finger under it.
"Shh!", she wriggles in his hold, grabbing from over her skirt to still his wandering hand.
Twisting around, she looks at him, only to blush more at the predatory smirk on his face. "Is it a bit trashy? I'm not sure I can bear the thought of everyone watching that", she grimaces.
His eyes flit rakishly over her frame, biting his lip as he can't help but try to picture it.
Hot and bothered, he flips her properly around to face him and surges straight back in for a needy kiss.
Pulling back just slightly, he whispers against her lips. "Just knowing it's there is so hot, baby... God, the things I intend to do to you later", he grits out.
Call it fair warning.
Shifting subtly, she positions her legs either side of his muscular thigh, melting into his strong frame.
Hearing the mewl in the back of her throat when he presses his thigh against the apex of hers, he's the one that breaks the kiss, dropping his forehead to hers. "Fuck... I need a minute", he pants raggedly.
With a playful glance down at his crotch - the pale blue isn't exactly forgiving - it's her turn to grin lasciviously.
"Follow me! Come on, for old times' sake...", she whispers, licking at the shell of his ear.
"Fucking tease!", he grits out, absolutely loving it.
Wrapping an arm around her waist from behind to keep her close, he nudges his hips into hers to encourage her forwards.
>
Relieved to make it to the photo booth uninterrupted, and without needing to queue, Harry casts a surreptitious glance over his shoulder to scope out whether they've been spotted, so doesn't notice when Eloise pulls up short in front of him.
Crashing into her back, it's a good thing he already had an arm around her waist.
Hearing her shocked intake of breath, he recovers quickly and looks up.
He's equally as surprised to find Niall, with a lapful of Malin - both entirely too distracted to realise they have an audience.
Reaching around Eloise, Harry clamps one hand over her mouth as he quietly tugs the curtain closed again with the other, then backs them slowly away.
Spinning her around, he has to stop himself from laughing at her expression - totally surprised, but giddy with excitement.
"How fucking poetic is that?", she whispers gleefully.
"Shh!", he interlaces their fingers and tries to pull her further away, to leave them in peace, but she holds firm and tugs him back.
"No, we have to stand guard for them! Especially with James bloody Corden about". Lessons learnt the hard way, and all that.
They back up a little further, but stay close enough to be able to keep an eye on both the photo dispenser and anyone approaching.
Just as Harry succumbs to the temptation to pass the time with another kiss, they're interrupted again; by Niall, fittingly enough.
Popping his head surreptitiously out the black curtain, his hushed "Oh, fuck!", breaks them apart.
Both lolling their heads towards him with matching, knowing smirks, he repeats it again, hanging his head.
The blush rapidly colouring his cheeks belies his sassy eye roll. "Oh, fuck off, both of ya'!".
"Hey! We didn't even say a word-", Harry protests, despite not being able to wipe the smug, shit-eating grin off his face.
Niall cuts him off with an awkward laugh. "Well don't! Just shut your trap and let's dance", he hisses before ducking back into the curtain to drag a wide-eyed, tipsy, Malin out behind him. She's grinning bashfully too.
With an uncontainable squeal, Eloise throws an arm around her cousin's shoulders to steer her towards the dance floor. They whisper and giggle like school girls all the way.
Their boys follow more than eagerly behind, nudging and playfully scrapping with brotherly affection.
>
After tearing it up on the dance floor, the party eventually draws to another temporary halt when a drunken James wrangles the microphone from Alexa at the DJ booth, keen to tick off his final task as compère.
Fittingly enough, after another rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody - a raucous and enthusiastic mass sing-along - it's time to head downstairs to the main terrace.
A relatively drunk and disorderly gaggle, it takes a while for them to all file down the flights of that sprawling central staircase.
>
There's a short but impressive fireworks display, set off from the far corner of the roof terrace, raining down over the hillside.
Flinching at every bang, Harry doesn't particularly enjoy them, but loves watching Eloise's face, lit up with child-like wonder at them exploding in a shower of effervescent white, temporarily overpowering the stars and the moon in lighting up the inky night sky.
Then, just before midnight, it's time for them to depart.
After doing the rounds, with hugs and kisses aplenty, they head in, towards the lobby, to thank Isabella and Lorenzo and collect the key to the Honeymoon villa.
Meanwhile, a tipsy but still wonderfully proficient Gemma - Ben's altogether less helpful by now - hands out sparklers and has everyone gather on the front steps of the hotel.
Holding hands, Harry and Eloise skip through the path between the lined up guests as everyone cheers and waves them off in a sparkling swirl of love and best wishes.
Eloise had taken her slightly slippy sandals off before contending with all those stairs, so pulls up short upon reaching the bottom step, yelping as her feet meet the gravel driveway.
Ever her Prince Charming, Harry promptly swoops her up into his arms - bridal style, of course - to the delight of their friends and family.
Having managed to dance off most of the champagne, wine and tequila over the course of the last couple of hours, they're now both just nicely tipsy - but definitely feeling buoyed and positively overwhelmed with the outpouring of love after such a wonderful day.
Taking a few steps back on to the drive, he bends to find her lips in a final kiss - one that has her bare feet kicking out in the air in delight.
In doing so, framed by their cheering and sparkler-wielding guests and the beautifully flood-lit golden stone entryway of the Grand Palazzo, he grants Helene one final, amazing photo to round off the night.
As he playfully jostles Eloise in his arms to adjust his grip, their guests call their final goodbyes and blow kisses before he spins on his heel and heads up the hurricane lantern candle-lit pathway, along the drive and around the corner, towards the entrance of their villa.
Their cheering guests' heckling only intensifies when he comically breaks into an eager jog, making her squeal as they disappear around the corner, with their playful laugher echoing behind them.
As some of the remaining elder guests talk about heading to bed, the younger, more gung-ho, contingent head straight back up to the roof to continue the party. Unsurprisingly, the dangerous double-act of Grimmy and Glenne lead the charge.
>
They're still laughing together as Harry navigates the olive tree-lined pathway to the Honeymoon villa. It's discreetly tucked away in a quiet corner of the property, for privacy.
"This is all very impressive, my big, burly man...", she grins up at him, fingers toying with the cropped curls at the nape of his neck. "But you can put me down any time now".
"No way! Carrying you over the threshold is the whole bloody point!".
After instructing her to delve the key from his pocket, he tightens his arms around her before awkwardly dipping down so she can contend with the door.
Once she eventually manages to unlock it, he eagerly kicks it open, striding in with a whoop.
>
It's dark inside, and, struggling to find the lights, he reluctantly sets her down.
Upon finally locating the dimmer switch, he turns to push the door closed and sets the security bolt with a flourish, intent on some privacy - at last.
As he spins back around, she's right there. Taking him by surprise, she flings her arms around him, nuzzling her face into his neck and pressing closer.
Needy, grounding, affectionate.
He absolutely gets it.
Totally still and entirely content, they have a moment; taking stock after such an amazingly overwhelming day.
The delicate press of her lips at the base of his neck, and that little mewl in the back of her throat, almost have his knees buckling - and any semblance of restraint slipping away.
Arching back to gaze up at him, the moony, adoring look in the watery pools of her big blue eyes pins him.
Swallowing thickly, in the time it takes to trail his hand from caressing the teasingly bare skin of her back, up to cup her cheek, his thumb just catches the tear spilling over her cheekbone.
To his knowledge, it's the first of the day.
"Oh, baby", he coos, his own lower lash line water-logged too.
Raking his eyes over her features again, he cocks his head and closes one eye in focus. "Listen to that...", he whispers, smiling softly.
"Hmm?", she mirrors the tilt of his head, listening intently. "I don't hear anything", she frowns.
"Exactly!", he wiggles his eyebrows. "It's just you and me, baby", a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips.
>
Taking Eloise's hand, as they pass, Harry smoothly snags the ice bucket with a chilled bottle of champagne from the console table in the entryway.
Skirting the living area, he makes a beeline for the large bedroom.
Moonlight spills through the gauzy curtains and open shutters, across the pale wooden floor.
Depositing the ice bucket on the dressing table by the window, he shucks off his suit jacket and hangs it on the chair before perching against the edge of the table.
Crooking his index finger to usher her over, as soon as he can reach, he hooks an arm around her waist to tug her near.
Tripping into his chest, she presses closer, melting into his relaxed form.
Just as she winds her arms around his neck and tilts her head just so, as if on cue - just audible through the shut balcony doors - the music starts again, spilling from the continued party on the rooftop.
Trading knowing, jokingly exasperated looks, she drops her forehead to his chest, shoulders jigging. "Feels a bit weird to be missing our own party...", she chuckles wryly.
He nudges her head back up and shakes his head emphatically. "I think we've more than earned some peace and privacy, babe".
"Well, I won't argue with that!", she grins.
Dropping a hand and her gaze, she traces a finger over the 'Congratulations Mr. & Mrs. Styles' on the tag looped around the neck of the chilled champagne bottle.
"Speaking of privacy", she clears her throat, "I just can't believe we managed to pull that off! Well, as far as we know... I guess?".
"I don't really care if it leaks now, to be honest; not any more", he shrugs with a shake his head. "I'm just so relieved there weren't any interruptions or swarming paps or screaming fans... That it was just ours - well and that lot", he gestures up towards the roof.
"We haven't actually talked about when and how we'll announce it...", she nudges him with her hip.
"I genuinely didn't think we'd need to!", he chuckles, bending to nuzzle his lips in a trail from the juncture of her neck and shoulder, up towards her ear. "But how about we put off thinking about that until tomorrow? I don't want to have to think about anything right now...".
"Well, what do you want to do? Hmm?", she teases, eyes sparkling with mirth as she gently rakes her nails through the short hairs above his collar.
"How about one last dance?". He's already toeing off his boots and socks in anticipation, mindful of her bare feet.
It wasn't the answer she was expecting, but how could she possibly refuse?
>
Their final dance of the night is for them alone.
He sings Adore You again, softly in her ear, as they sway gently, stepping around the dimly lit bedroom of the villa.
With just a few lights dimmed low, it's moody and sexy; the atmosphere heavy with emotion and anticipation. Those incredible, verdant eyes are intense; pinning her with an eager stare.
"Did you have a nice day, Mrs. Styles?", he asks lowly.
A beaming smile breaks over her face, eyes pooling with tears again.
"Nice?!", she can't contain an incredulous peal of laughter. "This was, without a doubt, the most perfect day of my entire life! It was just absolutely perfect... You are absolutely perfect. Thank you".
"What are you thanking me for?", he shakes his head, bemused.
"For everything, Harry...", she stops moving, looking up at him intently. "I've never felt happier than I do right now; in your arms, just us, after a perfect day, an incredible week".
He gazes moonily. "Well, thank you for saying 'I do'", he shrugs simply, a little bashful.
"God, I just cannot believe that I get to be Mrs. Styles", she beams up at him.
"Ohh...", he gulps, shifting closer. "Say it again for me, baby". He gets choked up this time.
Despite the low light, she catches his eyes darken as his pupils noticeably dilate. "Oh, you like that?", she smirks.
Surging in, they both pour the depth of their emotion into a hot kiss.
Hips, chests, hearts melding.
>
Pulling back, panting wildly, his gaze and hands drop heavily to her waist.
After some fumbling and colourful cursing, he gives up on trying to find anything as straightforward as a zip.
"Fuck, how on earth am I supposed to get you out of this?", he whines lowly in exasperation. "You're going to have to talk me through it...".
Despite her instructions, and the best efforts of her smaller and more nimble fingers, fiddling inside the waistband of her skirt, his patience soon runs out.
Wrapping his arms around her - one hand to the small of her back, the other copping a feel of her bum - he tugs her close and walks her backwards across the bedroom. "Well, I'm never going to get the opportunity to fuck you in a wedding dress ever again am I?".
Smirking wolfishly, he pivots and drops to sit at the end of the huge bed, pulling her on to his lap.
Swooping in for yet another kiss, it's not long before they both start rummaging around under the voluminous layers of tulle.
She gets the giggles at the juxtaposition of the intense, brooding, het-up expression on his face, as he bats and swats at the frothy white fabric puffed up around them.
He can't help but laugh too, getting silly and overly dramatic. "Oh, God, I'm going in! If I'm not back out in two minutes, send a search party... I might need mouth-to-mouth".
Laying back, he pulls her down and rolls them over. Popping up on to all fours, he shifts backwards to be able to drop to his knees by the edge of the bed. Then he gets straight to work.
"Well, well, well... What have we here?", he reappears, making a play of reverently parting her skirt on either side of the split up her left leg.
Reaching the apex of her thighs, he trails his fingers across to reveal the pale blue silk garter sitting high on her right thigh. "Fuck me! That's staying on for a while...".
Hiking up her skirt to fall cloud-like either side of her hips, he hitches the draped silk underskirt higher, only to groan, finding even more layers. "What even-?".
"It's a bodysuit; find the poppers".
"This is like the sexiest game of pass the parcel ever".
"Are you complaining?", she sasses back, shifting her hips in anticipation.
"Fucking Christ! White silk lingerie too? What are you doing to me?", he groans, dropping his head to nose teasingly along the soft fabric.
The frantic bunching of handfuls of tulle belies his gentler movements between her thighs.
Popping suddenly back up, he leans forward, bracing his weight on his elbows, either side of her hips. Hanging his head over her stomach, he stills, breathing heavily - intentionally low and slow.
"You okay, baby?", she frowns, dropping a hand to the crown of his head.
"I need a second- I'm about to lose it, and I refuse to fucking cream my pants on our wedding night", he grits lowly, frustrated in more ways than one.
She tugs at his curls, then drops her hand to his shoulder, scrabbling for purchase in an attempt to nudge him up. "H? H, get up here".
"Please, just a minute-".
"I don't want a minute. I want-, need you now... Come on, we've got all night".
With a growl from the back of his throat, he launches himself over her, lathing kisses from her chest, up her neck.
As she fumbles with his button and zipper to shuck his trousers and then boxers down over his hips, he shifts suddenly back, face scrunched up. "Shit, let me...", he grits out, panting.
Biting her lip, she realises quite how on the edge he is. "How do you want me?".
He actually whimpers.
"This is custom Gucci couture... If you really want me to keep it on, I'm probably going to need to be on top", she tries to puzzle the logistics of quite so many layers.
It's all too much for him. With a wail, he throws himself down alongside her, stretching out with his face buried in the crook of his arm as he sucks in deep breaths.
Just two buttons keep the gaping silk shirt from revealing his heaving chest entirely. And with his fly open and trousers shucked low, he looks utterly debaucherous.
Entirely irresistible.
Sitting up, Eloise swings a leg to perch on his thighs, hiking up her skirts and bodysuit and swatting at the tulle tumbling around her.
Ready for him, waiting him out.
It's him that mewls, this time - a pathetic, strangled whimper, caught in the back of his throat.
"Not massively helping, babe...", he groans into his arm.
Swallowing thickly, after a couple more deep and steadying breaths, he suddenly sits up, dragging her closer to perch above his lap.
With their gazes cast low, he takes a firm grip at the base, as she, tugging her silk knickers aside, gently feeds the tip.
Both groan in harmony as she sinks down, feeling the familiar stretch as she takes him to the hilt.
"Fucking finally", he hisses raggedly.
Peeling her eyes open, she finds his still clamped shut, but clocks his furrowed brow, scrunched nose and clenched jaw. All paint a picture of a man very much on the edge.
Trailing a finger up the strained tendons of his neck, she withholds her own whimper at the shifting angle as she leans closer. "Tell me when I can move", she whispers.
"Just a sec...", he pants, burrowing a hand to find her clit. The calloused pad of his thumb runs a familiar path around, over and across her bundle of nerves, again and again, with an increasing pressure that soon has her throbbing.
It takes every iota of willpower he can muster to focus on her pleasure and not what it's doing to his own; but this will undoubtedly be quick, so the least he can do is try to let her find some relief alongside him.
He has her panting and writhing in his lap in no time. "Oh, shit, please... Now?", she begs.
An unbidden flex of his hips is all the encouragement she needs.
Rolling hers in a tantalising grind against his, she soon finds their rhythm.
"Breathe, baby", she purrs, noticing the increasing pink of his cheeks. "Don't hold back, let go for me".
At her invitation, his restraint runs out. Finally.
Complimenting her rhythm, he rolls and hammers his hips up into hers.
With their practised push and pull, each deep thrust, delicious slide, and twist - again and again - takes them ever closer to the edge.
Heat builds, hands scrabble for purchase, panting breaths mingle, and lips pillow against any skin within reach.
Sooner than either is ready for - but longer than they expected - they fall over the edge; together, thanks to the continued attention of his magical fingers.
Chest heaving, she reclines bonelessly in a cloud of tulle, riding the aftershocks as he continues pulsing within her.
Entirely spent, he collapses backwards too.
Sprawled across the width of the huge bed, they're still joined at the hips, but otherwise just a mess of tangled limbs and dishevelled clothing.
Patting blindly amongst the tulle, he eventually finds her hands and entwines their fingers, in need of the grounding.
The only sound in the villa is their heavy breathing and the occasional disbelieving chuckle.
>
Once he's recovered enough from his quick but overwhelming orgasm, he hauls himself up to sit, gazing down at where she lays, between his splayed legs.
When she lolls her head towards him, he knows her blissed-out, moony expression is just the mirror of his.
"Right, I need to make that up to you...". Slipping his hands under her back, he scoops her up, pliant and relaxed, and cages her against his chest again. "I'm going to unwrap you, then I want to watch you unravel again... And again... And again", he promises lowly, already peppering teasing, open-mouthed kisses down her neck.
>
After dragging her up to standing, Harry pops the champagne for a restorative swig.
With a little more focus and perseverance, he finally manages to get her out of her voluminous tulle skirt, and also the white draped silk miniskirt hidden underneath.
After struggling to undo the tiny, fiddly buttons at the low back of her bodysuit, they crease into giggles as he tries to help her shimmy out of the tight, delicate fabric. "Careful!", she chides. "Just ease it up, and I'll wriggle out".
Then, stepping back, he tugs at his lips as he drinks her in, eyes raking hungrily over her body. Appreciating her white silk bustier and matching little knickers, he steps around her in a slow circle.
Moonlit and entirely unaware of the effect she has on him, she distractedly picks bobby pins out of her hair as she shakes it out.
Dropping them on the bedside table along with her mum's diamond bracelet, she finally looks up.
"My goddess! I'm the luckiest bloody bastard on the planet...", he drools, stepping close to run his hands over her. "Absolutely stunning".
Now within reach, she makes short work of his last two shirt buttons, then pulls his trousers and boxers back down and off entirely.
Gently pushing Eloise back on to the bed, Harry nudges her thighs apart, then drops down to squat between them again.
Sponging open-mouthed kisses from her right kneecap, up the length of her thigh, he nuzzles at the silk garter before taking it in his teeth.
With a throaty chuckle as she squirms at the attention and the tickle of his breath hitting her core, he drags it all the way down her long leg.
Hooking it in his finger once reaching her foot, he gives it a cheeky twirl before twanging it across the room.
After a deceptively chaste kiss to her ankle, he takes her by surprise, delving straight back in.
In no time, her silk knickers follow the path of the garter.
Then, his attention falls to her final remaining garment.
With his hands and lips a chaotic swirl, demanding her attention, her writhing and squirming render the silk bustier practically obsolete anyway, with the way her chest heaves wildly as she pants for breath.
Settling down over her with his elbows planted back either side of her waist, he attends to each of the tiny hook and eye closures lining the front of her bustier in turn, teasingly slowly.
The equally languid roll of his hips into hers has a mercilessly teasing effect on their bared cores, striking up an intense slow burn.
Sliding his fingers under the unclasped silk, he peels the two halves off her to unveil his prize - finally unwrapped.
Arching her back enticingly, she lets him slide the silk from under her.
As he lowers his head to attend to her bared breasts, she drops a stroking hand to him - silky too, but hot and heavy and already straining, more than ready for another roll in the sheets.
She can't help but grin smugly - entirely aware she must be the luckiest woman alive.
>
>
25th September 2019
Harry comes to slowly, a little discombobulated in the unfamiliar room.
Bright light streams through the shuttered doors to the terrace, and he'd hazard a guess that it's at least late morning. They'd still been going at it at 3am, so are more than deserving of a good sleep and late start.
Craning his head up from his pillow, he looks across the bedroom and takes in the heap of discarded white and pale blue piled on the chaise longue, and the opened bottle of champagne alongside his watch and phone on the nightstand.
Shit, that all really happened.
A disbelieving, dimpled grin stretches across his face as he settles back down.
With Eloise still fast asleep alongside him, he can feel the fluttering of her slow exhales tickling his neck.
Lolling his head towards her, he finds her laying on her side, facing him.
He's surprised to find her make-up-free and with her hair pulled into a messy bun on the top of her head. She must have been up at some point whilst he was out cold.
Drinking in her enticing golden tan and the light dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose, his gaze falls on her left hand, tucked cutely under her chin, with her wrist bent at its usual awkward angle.
Noticing her rings, sparkling in the morning sunlight, has his grin stretching wider. He's glad he urged her to get the full diamond eternity band. Truth be told, he was all for anything that would draw the eye - keen for maximum awareness of her being taken, by him.
They really do suit her elegant hands. Nestled there, together, for less than twenty-four hours so far, it feels like they belong - like they've always been there.
Peeling his gaze higher, he takes his time to drink her in. She gets bashful and squirmy if he attempts it when she's awake, so he's always grateful for the opportunity, whenever he wakes up before her.
She has a serene little smile on her face, but he can see the movement of her eyes below her lids, and can't resist leaning forward to drop a gentle kiss to the crown of her head. "Sweet dreams, baby", he whispers.
Careful not to jostle the bed and risk disturbing her, he eases carefully on to his back.
Lifting his left hand, he stares at his own ring for a beat. He loves the way it looks and how it feels, but, even more, he loves everything it represents.
He makes another vow - a silent one this time - promising to be the husband she deserves, every single day.
>
Dropping his hand to lay splayed over his heart, he lets his eyes flutter closed again and indulges in a dreamy little recap of his own - running through the vivid, precious memories of yesterday.
He doesn't get very far.
After a flutter of butterflies, recalling the sense of eager anticipation he'd felt whilst getting ready with the boys, his eyes snap open, remembering.
Dropping his right hand to his leather holdall, stashed down by the nightstand, he fumbles blindly, before eventually grasping the envelope with his fingertips.
Casting his eyes back to her, to check she's still asleep, he carefully slides out her letter.
On a deep and steadying breath, he unfolds the thick, quality paper. With a hard blink of his already slightly watery eyes, the black ink of her elegant cursive comes into focus.
Finding grounding comfort in thumbing his ring around his finger, he braves reading it again.
My darling husband (!)-
It's a lot, you know? Loving you.
You're a lot.
I mean, there's a whole lot to love...
Your heart - bigger and more generous than anyone I have ever known.
Your kindness - so innate, so pure, so wildly attractive.
Your mind - sharp, curious, non-judgemental.
Your charm - making everyone feel like they're the only other person in the room...
You make me feel like I'm the only other person in the whole universe.
It's your openness, and your morals and principles.
It's that you keep me on my toes, and call me on my shit.
It's that you make me better - always striving to make you proud.
It's the 'Can I kiss you's?' and the 'One day's'.
You make my heart flutter, every time I look at you (...and something else too!)
It's your body - strong, comforting, giving.
It's your face - chiselled angles and lines so beautifully handsome, but also endlessly, endearingly expressive and warm... Every scrunch of your nose, and every pout and quirk and tug of your lips, has me enthralled.
It's when you smirk, and when you blush - and how sometimes I can even make you do both at the same time.
It's your eyes - a million shades of green, and somehow each and every one becomes my very favourite colour.
It's that mouth, and everything you can do with it - from sweet nothings and sweet music, to that thing you do...
It's those incredible hands, and everything you can do with them - from the purest of melodies to the dirtiest of tricks... And how you run them through those curls - so irresistibly tuggable!
It's your sweater paws, and the way you tie the strings of your hoodies.
It's the wardrobe full of Gucci, but how you'll wear each scuzzy pair of Vans to death.
It's the showman, and the shy man.
It's frontman Harry, and superstar Harry, and actor Harry, and CEO Harry, and every other version of you that you wow the world with...
But, God, it's protective H, and sexy H, and cuddly H, and goofy H, and every other incredible side of you - especially the ones reserved only for me.
You are an enigma to me, a dichotomy.
It's all the big things, but it's more all the little things - all your curves and edges and tiny imperfections - that make you just who you are, on top of all that you are...
The fine lines and the interplay of all these facets of you will always be eternally fascinating to me.
How lucky am I? To get a lifetime to explore each and every part of you?
I see you... All of you.
It's you, Harry...
It's always been you.
It will always be you.
All of you.
You're it for me.
All that you are, all that you can be, and all that you will be.
My future and everything in it.
I suspect that, alongside husband, your most accomplished role of all will be being a father.
I can only hope that we will be blessed with the children you so deserve - some how, some way, some day.
I cannot wait to grow old with you, and to watch them grow older alongside you.
I so appreciate that I'm the luckiest girl in the world to get to call you mine, and I vow to be thankful and live up to that honour, every single day, for the rest of our lives.
So how about we make 'one day', 'day one'?
I love you, Harry, so very much.
All yours, always yours,
Eloise xxx
>
Stirring gently awake, Eloise flutters her sleepy blue eyes open slowly.
As it clears, her vision fills immediately with Harry - laying on his back alongside her, reading intently.
She recognises her letter instantly.
Ordinarily, him pouring over her words would have her squirming and running a mile, but the expression on his face and the tears pooling along his lash line keep her pinned to the spot.
She keeps still and quiet, gazing intently up at his side profile as he finishes reading.
With a shaky exhale, and a few tears spilling, she sees him swallow thickly. Twisting to place the letter on his nightstand, he rolls back and presses the heel of his palms to his eyes.
Reaching up, she interlaces her left hand with his, making him jump in surprise.
"Sorry, baby", she whispers softly. "I didn't mean for that to upset you".
He sucks in a ragged breath, pulling their joined hands to his mouth to rain kisses over the first bit of her he can reach.
"I'm not upset", he bubbles a wet laugh. "I'm overwhelmed, and madly in love, and the luckiest man alive".
He rolls on to his side and tugs her into his arms. "Can you kiss me baby? I need you to kiss me".
She doesn't hesitate to oblige.
>
Nuzzling his face into her neck, Harry breathes her in as she cords her fingers through his tousled curls.
"We should get up...", she suggests softly. She has no idea what time it is, but, from the strength and angle of the sun filtering through the shutters, assumes it must be getting on for midday.
Pulling back, affronted, he pops up on an elbow, frowning down at her. "We absolutely should not!", he scoffs in indignation.
"We have guests!", she protests.
"We've had guests for the best part of a week now! They can piss off, this is our time".
"Harry!", she scolds with a playful shove to his shoulder.
"What? Don't 'Harry' me... I'm not kidding, babe".
"But they'll know exactly what we're up to-".
"Of course they bloody do! And I couldn't care less-".
She cuts him off with an exasperated scoff of her own. "What, are you going to keep me locked in here all day, like some sex slave?".
"I didn't say that... If you behave yourself, you can venture out to the private walled terrace and plunge pool", he smirks, nodding his head towards the door to the terrace. "As long as you're naked, I won't complain too much!".
"Oh, my God, you're incorrigible!", she pushes him back and rolls on top of him.
"Well, what about Niall and Malin? Aren't you dying to find out what happened there?", she waggles her eyebrows inquisitively.
He rolls his eyes, "That's been a slow burn for years now... It can wait, trust me". He flicks his palm, flippantly, before dropping it to her bum.
"You know, I've got a hunch that it's the right time for them now...", she babbles, unperturbed by his actions.
He only ups the ante.
Rolling them across the strewn bedsheets again, he ends up draped over her. "Well this is our time, alright? 'Day one', remember?". Punctuating his words, he trails eager kisses up her neck, in rhythm with playful flexes of his hips into hers.
True to form, he soon has her giggling and entirely distracted.
The end
💫 Please kindly vote and comment - any feedback and encouragement always appreciated!
A/N: So that's it... I'm feeling emotional! 🥺 I really hope you've enjoyed the ride?
Way back at the beginning, I never envisioned actually finishing this, let alone how long it grew, nor how invested in them and their relationship I became, nor how much I've absolutely loved writing it! So a huge thank you to each and every one of you for your support along the way... It has meant more than you can possibly know.
There will be an epilogue - just three final chapters - I've had them outlined and pretty much written for ages now.
With the UK government essentially scrapping Christmas with Tier 4 lockdowns, one of the very few silver linings is that I'll have plenty of time to write! I promise to have things wrapped up for Harry and Eloise before the end of the year, and will make headway on my one-shots and new book too...! Xx