Lockdown | Harry Styles | AU

Chapter 11

It had been a week since Aubrey had seen Harry, or even spoken to him.

A entire week of her mind going over and over every single detail of their kiss.

Intensely analysing the moment between them down to every action and sound.

The words they exchanged rattling around in her mind on a continuous loop.

"Let me kiss you,"

"I've wanted you since the moment I laid eyes on you."

"Say my name again..."

It was driving her fucking crazy.

She couldn't get the image of Harry out of her thoughts. The way his dark gaze drank in her breasts. The way his lips felt against hers. How dominant he was— and how much she obeyed it. How much she enjoyed it. How wet she got between her thighs just thinking about the way Harry looked at her. His eyes filled with pure want and desire. His gorgeously carved expression washed with carnal need.

He was so fucking effortlessly erotic that Aubrey just couldn't stop thinking about him.

His wet clothes clinging to his hard lean body.

His curvy pink mouth.

His sharp jaw.

The tattoos that covered the warm skin of his forearms.

And in those brief few minutes they had spent in her hotel room, Aubrey had never felt so sexy.

Never in her life has she felt such need from someone as beautiful as Harry—it was really fucking empowering.

It was addictive.

When Aubrey lay in bed late a night, just staring at the ceiling. Her stomach would ache with excitement when she remembered the feeling of Harry's hands on her. Her body quivering when she found herself unable to resist reaching down and slipping her fingers into her underwear, feeling how wet and slick her folds were, her arousal pooling between her thighs.

Just imagining that Harry was back in her room with her, just simply picturing them kissing again, and Aubrey was a fucking mess.

She even cursed herself for ending it like she did.

The rejection on Harry's face so vivid that it made her pine for him.

In the intimate moments that Aubrey spent touching herself she wanted to desperately apologise to Harry for kicking him out, she wanted to tell him that he could come back and do anything he wanted to her.

She wanted to call him. Text him. She had lost count how many times she have stared at his number in her phone, straining herself from contacting him.

She had never felt so alive.

Just being in Harry's presence made Aubrey feel tingly and nervous, completely on edge. She felt high, flustered. Her adrenaline fuelled heart pumping heat so quickly around her body that she couldn't focus on anything other than Harry and the feeling he gave her.

It was incredible.

But when they finally kissed, something Aubrey had wanted since she had first met him, a certain part of her brain managed to pierce through the fog of pleasure she had created, planting a seed of guilt and shame. Her thoughts of doubt and her insecurities too compelling to ignore.

So she stopped it.

And she had partly regretted it ever since.

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