please, daddy? // h.s.

11

Dinner went by speedily and I had hoped that it would never end. After the incident with the waiter and the few rude comments, the night went rather smoothly. Mr. Styles was actually pleasant to be around when he wasn't constantly insulting you or changing moods.

I swear, it's like he gives me whiplash every time he went from teasing and smirking to jaw clenching and rudeness. But I find myself somehow still intrigued; his whole persona is just alluring. He's undeniably attractive and the way he presents himself makes my breath seemingly disappear.

I'm left with these thoughts as Mr. Styles takes me to his car and opens the door for me, shutting It after I sat down. He walks to his side and starts the white car and drives the familiar path back to town. I notice, however, that we seem to be heading back to his flat instead of to the dorms and I wonder what he had in mind.

Will we be talking, whilst sharing a glass of wine and discussing our thoughts? Or maybe just lying together on the couch in the silence, enjoying each other's presence?

I doubt both of those options. Mr. Styles is not one for cuddling or personal conversations. I remember I asked him one time about his family and he totally flipped his shit, closing down his barriers and demanding me to leave. After that I hadn't talked to him personally for 2 whole days before I went and apologized.

We had pulled into the familiar driveway of his flat I'd seen hours before and stepped out, not waiting for him to open my door for me. He frowns when he notices I didn't wait but doesn't say anything. He takes my hand and leads me towards his door and after unlocking it, pulls me inside and shuts it behind him, immediately pushing me against the closed wood.

My back slams softly into the door and a gasp leaves my lips at the sudden roughness. He places both his hands on the side of my face against the door and moves his face close to mine. I feel his breath on my upper lip and can see his jaw clenching tight as his nose traces over my jaw, pushing slightly to give more access to my neck.

His warm skin touches mine as his face brushes over my neck and jaw, lips lightly trail from behind my ear, leaving a kiss, and moving slowly down my neck and to my collar bones, placing another kiss.

My breathing is erratic as he teases me like this. He knows exactly what he's doing when his lips return back to my upper neck under my ear and nips at the skin. A whimper leaves my lips at the contact and I feel his smirk against my hot skin.

He lifts his face up before locking eyes with mine. His swamp green eyes are as dark as they always are, filled with concealment and secrecy and walls that I wish to break but have so far couldnt.

He breaks eye contact as he puts his face in the crook of my neck on the other side and repeats his previous actions.

I think about his eyes and how he hides so much behind them; his story, his life, who he is and why he does what he does. Hell, I don't even know his first name, but something tells me I don't have to in order to understand this complicated man- if I can even understand him at all.

His lips have me hypnotized but the thought about his name is still floating around in my head. What is his name and I wonder what it could be? something beautiful, obviously. A name as simple as Jacob or Shane couldn't possibly represent such a man.

"Mr. Styles," I breathe as his lips kiss the pulse on my neck. He hums in response and I put my hands in his hair and pull lightly.

"What's your first name, Mr. Styles?" I ask as he grazes my skin. As soon as the words left my mouth I regretted them; he stopped his actions immediately and I could feel his jaw clench against my skin. He's breathing heavily and I wish I had shut up for once and let his kiss me.

He pulls away and I feel colder at the lack of warmth he leaves me. He runs a hand through his hair and as soon as I'm about to open my mouth and apologize he speaks, and I'm silent as I wait.

"Harry," he says so quiet I question hearing it.

Harry? That's such a classy and beautiful name I find myself jealous as I'm simply named lana.

"That's a very pretty name, Harry," I say, testing the word on my lips. He scowls at me and I wonder what I did this time.

He looks as if he's about to speak but doesn't, sighing and rubbing his hands over his face.

"You may call me Harry when we're together, but any other time I demand that you call me Mr. Styles," he says and nod my head in agreement.

He leads me over to the couch in the living room and he sits down first, straight back and posture while I sit cross cross that the side, facing him.

"Why did you seem so angry when I asked what your name was?" I say softly as I bring my hands together in my lap.

"I don't just get close to my students, or anyone for that matter,"he says ask he pushes the Hair from his face.

"And why is that?" I question, seeing how much information I can get before he gets angry at me and I begin to wonder why he doesn't consider the sexual pleasure we do as 'close'.

"Because I never felt the need for anyone to know anything about me. They're not staying long enough for me to care anyway, so why bother exposing myself," he says so nonchalant I feel like he's pretending not to care.

"Then why did you tell me?" I ask softly and he turns to look at me. his eyes stare so intensely I feel like he's until he utters the word I've only dreamed of.

"Because, Lana, I find you so intriguing and I want you to want me like I want you,need me like I need you," he says so soft and there's a moment of silence after he finishes for me to take it all in before he pushes me against the couch and slams his lips on mine roughly.

"My god, what are you doing to me?" he says as his lips violate mine and I kiss him back twice as hard, one hand of mine in his hair, the other on his chest, and both of his wrapped around my face.

• • • •
A/n

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