THE TAYLORS [H.S]

27.

It was moments like this I questioned whether my life was just one big fever dream. What on earth  possessed me to become some sort of fucking lap dog to Harry fucking Styles, I couldn't tell you, but what I could tell you, was that my mouth was possibly watering at the very idea.

I didn't even want to think of how wet I was for this man with his stormy green eyes and hands that made me want to moan at the very sight of them.

I had obeyed his little request, perching myself on my knees besides him, waiting for his next move. It felt like a live game of chest, and I was suddenly very aware that a game could go on for hours, and only had one winner.

I thought I'd feel stupid, giving into his demands, even when my head demanded to be in charge, but for some wild reason, my heart thumped with anticipation of what was to come, of being so wildly out of control, I couldn't pin point what was going to happen next. Was it bad that excited me? That I wanted to know what Harry wanted, what made him excited, what he wanted to do to me?

Though in saying that, despite wanting to get into his head and wanting to know his thoughts, I was still impatient as ever.

"What did you want to do with me?" I asked, tilting my head. "You going to have me sit here all night, Styles?"

In the light of the moon, Harry looked different. More angelic and less demonic. His features seemed to glow, his eyes shinning like the light at the end of the tunnel. He looked so vibrate, despite the hard look of his face. He seemed annoyed at me, though when did he ever seem anything else?

His hand reached for my face, cupping it softly. I couldn't help but nudge my head into it, like some sort of pathetic cat. It caused a low chuckle to fall from his lips.

"Such a mouth, even after I tell you to be quiet," he murmured, though it came out low and rough. It was just enough for a layer of goosebumps to erupt on my skin. "What am I going to do with you, Princess?"

I shivered at the name, peaking up to look at him. His hand tightened around my face as my eyes met him. The gentleness of his touch suddenly disappeared, and a roughness replaced it. Fingers dug into my jaw, forcing me to keep eye contact with him and he moved closer.

He breathed in as if he was drink in my scent, eyes scanning my face as if he could devour me with just a look. I had never felt so alive and so drowsy with lust than I did in that very moment.

My snarky comments died on on my tongue as Harry shifted his body closer to mine, his hand falling on my hip bone as his head lowered onto my neck. He didn't try to kiss it, though the feeling of his tongue ran up my neck, until it met the lobe of my ear.

Harry's grunt of disapproval sounded in my ear as I tried to pull away, and it caused my teeth to lower into my bottom lip. How could something sound so fucking attractive? I didn't understand it. I didn't understand what he was doing to me.

"Such a naughty fucking girl," he whispered, his tongue tracing the lobe of my ear before he bit down on it softly.

I moaned. It was like a knee jerk reaction. I couldn't help it, not with his hand on my jaw and his mouth on my ear. It was enough to make me feel as if I was losing it, enough for me to cave in and demand this man to kiss me.

I was tempted too, don't get me wrong, but he didn't give me the chance. He didn't look up at me, he kept his mouth where it was, his shallow breaths sounding in my ear.

His thumb traced the bottom of my lip, doing what I wished his lips would do. He sighed into my ear as I nipped at his finger. "Think it's time someone showed you a lesson, sweetheart. Lay across my lap. Now."