The Primrose Thrills (Harry Styles Fan Fiction)

Part 10

Harry swept his thumb and forefinger across his lips from the outside in as he came to rest at my side, breathing hot and heavy.

“Good?” he smirked as he pushed his heavy and wayward curls from his slick forehead.

“Hmm, I can’t feel my toes,” I laughed with half-closed lids.

He grinned and placed his lips down onto my own. I could taste myself instantly and let his tongue play alongside my own as my high settled, though still running through me in soft waves. 

“Have you decided on your dress for Saturday yet?” Harry mumbled against my lips. “Not long to go.”

“Almost,” I smiled. “I’ve narrowed it down to two. Have you got your suit sorted?”

“I’ve been having fittings for the past week,” Harry laughed. “Standard grey three piece.”

I pushed my fingers through his curls so that they stood up and flicked in all directions atop his head. He looked like a dishevelled Elvis.

“Bow tie?”

“Of course,” he smiled. 

“Sounds nice,” I purred whilst twisting a random strand of his hair around my finger. “I look forward to seeing it.”

“Likewise,” he smirked before sponging his lips on to mine.

“What time do we have to be there?”

“I reckon 7pm. So I’ll come to yours around 6 and we’ll get a car from here. Sound okay?”

“Yes,” I smiled.

“I meant to say,” Harry propped himself up onto his elbow as he spoke. “Mark called me earlier.”

“Mark who?”

“You remember… Mark. Mark from the club.”

“Oh. Spanking Mark,” I smirked.

“Yes,” he laughed. “Spanking Mark.”

“What did he want?”

“He’s having a party.”

Harry paused as an enigmatic smile crept across his flushed face.

“Go on…”

“He has one every six months or so. In a country house just outside of London that a friend of his owns…”

He paused and I kept silent, waiting for him to finish.

“For club members only.”

“You mean a sex party?” I laughed and he looked amused.

“I think they call it an adult soiree.”

“And we’re invited?”

“We’re invited,” he confirmed as his hand brushed back and forth over my stomach.

“Have you been to one before?”

“Once.”

“What was it like?”

“Fun,” he laughed. “I think you’d like it…”

Country houses and sex. Like a naughty Victorian fantasy. Mm. I wasn’t sure what it was or why, but the thought got my pulse racing.

“When is it?”

“Saturday night.”

“But that’s the night of your charity dinner thing…”