What do I want? I have to run it through my head a few times before even considering an answer. I hadn't thought past actually getting up to the room. Now he's asking what I want from him, what sex I would like, how far I want to go, and I don't have an answer for him.
I wish I could respond, give him something witty or sexy, but instead my legs are glued shut and I cannot form a sentence. I let his hands linger for a moment, letting the sensation of his skin on mine, lips so dangerously close, remain for a while longer. Already I am finding myself caving into the feeling, enjoying every second despite the short amount of time we've been in this position. He fits quite nicely, I think to myself, his hands knowing exactly where to touch me, the areas I wish to feel him most on the small patch of skin he's decided to take residence on.
His breath still fans over me, goose bumps erupting all over. It's like my skin is tingling. Every nerve is awake, every muscle tensed. The blood that courses through my veins seems to be moving at an alarming rate. I can feel my pulse picking up the longer we remain seated like this. Every fibre of my being has been electrified, Harry holding the source and sparking me alight.
"You said you needed a good time, let me give that to you, pretty lady," he whispers, lips brushing against my earlobe.
I shouldn't be doing this. I shouldn't be agreeing to a dalliance with a man I've just met, especially one I'm paying. My mind must be playing tricks on me. I must be going through a quarter-life crisis to be considering this. Yet, I don't want to stop it. I don't want to deny what I've been craving. I don't want to cut the night short before I've had a taste of the poison. If there is a remedy for it, then I'm sure I will find it soon after, but for now I wish to be injected with the venom.
I breathe out a shaky breath, my eyes closing as I feel him drag his lips down my neck. "What do you typically do?" I enquire, unsure how far this will go. I know that the pulse between my legs is begging to be touched, though, and if it doesn't happen soon I may reach my limit just from being near him.
He laughs at this, moving one of his hands to rest on my other shoulder, beginning a slow massage over them. "Whatever you want, nothing is off limits."
I wish he didn't say that. Because now I can't stop thinking about all the fantasies I wish to fulfil tonight. All the cravings I've had over the years that have never been satiated. For so long I have dreamed of certain scenarios, different scenes that can play out in the bedroom. I've found myself wanting things no man has given me before. Those worries always got in the way, though. Those fears that I'll embarrass myself, that I can't possibly ask for things that will satisfy my needs over my partners'.
James was alright, I suppose. Nothing dreadful, but it was always one sided. When I would ask for him to pleasure me some more, to stimulate me in a way that would help me get off better, he couldn't find the energy for it. Now, I have a man that is willing to give that to me, that is on a platter and ready to be served. I'm so hungry for it.
Yet, something in my mind begins panicking again, and I move away from him the minute I start to feel that nibbling again. It starts slow, and then suddenly it captures my whole brain, and I feel as if it's pulsating against my skull. I stand to my feet, pacing over to the bar before grabbing the champagne that sits in a bucket. "A drink first?" I ramble, grabbing two glasses when he hasn't even responded yet.
There's a small plate of fruit and chocolates next to the beverages, my hand reaching out and taking a strawberry between my teeth as I pour the drinks in hopes it will stop me from grinding my teeth. Harry walks over and takes the glass from my hand, watching me closely. I can't read his expression.
"I've always wondered, why do they serve strawberries with champagne?" he asks, changing the subject entirely, as if the moment on the bed hadn't happened. It calms me somewhat, but that pounding in my head still aches slightly.
YOU ARE READING
Pretty Boy // H.S
FanfictionOne night of impulse shouldn't lead to much for Joni Lewis, but when she meets the alluring Harry Styles, an opportunity arises that she can't ignore. A Harry Styles short story inspired by Pretty Woman.