Harry Styles Imagines

Assistance [3]

In continuation......

"I'm having a hard time believing any sane man would want to blow their chances with you."

"Then I guess I'm only seeing insane guys," you reply, your voice coming out barely more than just a whisper. He is now standing so close to you that if you pushed yourself just a tad bit forward, your chest would meet his, noses bumping against each other.

"Wanna know who else is insane?" His voice is so low, sultry, you can feel his words resonating in your tummy. Once again, you only nod as an answer. He places first only one hand to the counter next to you, then the other, trapping you between his arms. You're intoxicated, not entirely sure if maybe you fell asleep on the couch during the movie and you're only dreaming this or if it's truly happening.

"I feel insane when I see you at work, wearing pretty dresses and I know that once your day in the office is over you're going to meet up with a man who is most likely not worthy of your time. I always want to tell you not to go, to stay a little longer, not to give them the time of day, but... I never have the courage."

"Really?" you breathe out, leaning against the counter because your knees would surely buckle without the support.

"Absolutely," he nods shortly, his breath hitting your tingling skin as he speaks. His eyes roam around your face, lingering on your lips just a moment longer than anywhere else before returning to your eyes. Lifting a hand up he gently tugs your hair behind your ear on the left side, your skin burning along the trail his fingertips touch you. "Now, Y/N," he speaks softly. "Are you nervous? Tell me the truth."

"I am," you whisper, your lips staying parted when he cups your jaw in his palm, the warmth of his touch almost making you gasp. A smirk tugs on the corners of his lips, he is pleased with your answer, but surprisingly, he doesn't try to rub his victory into your face.

"I want to change that," he speaks up again, his eyes locking on yours. Without even thinking about it, you lean into his touch like a little lovesick puppy. "I want to make you feel good, Y/N."

"Fuck." The word slips through your lips before you could even stop yourself. Harry leans closer and presses a long, soft kiss to your cheek, then to your temple, nuzzling his nose into your hair.

"Will you let me?" You know if you talked right now it would come out as just a whimper, so you opt to nod again, but it's not enough for him this time. "Words, Y/N. I want to hear you use words."

"Do whatever you want with me," you gasp and then it's game over.

Harry's mouth is so quick to press against yours, kissing you rough and hard, like no one else before, you can barely process what's happening, but your body is reacting naturally. Your hands fist his t-shirt at his stomach before flattening them out on his hard muscles, while his palms are holding your head angling you just right so he can devour your mouth the way he wants. You can feel all your excitement pooling between your legs, getting wetter by every passing second as the counter digs into your waist because Harry is pushing you hard against it. His knee forces your legs to part and he pushes his thick thigh between yours, your clothes core meeting with the mass of muscles and you can't stop yourself from grinding against him.

His mouth kisses and bites its way down your neck, his hands moving to pull his shirt you're wearing up on your abdomen until they can spread out on your ribs, his thumb stroking your bra. The height difference is starting to piss you off and you want to wrap around him as much as possible, so you try to push you up to the counter to even it out, but he has different plans.

Pulling back he rips the shirt off of your body as you gasp at the sudden act, the ruined fabric falls to the ground as you're standing with just your bra on your upper body. Before you could even think about it, his lips return to yours, hungry and demanding, his hands finding their way to the back of your thighs and he urges you to jump.