Harry Styles Imagines Book 2

Take that back

"You're gonna want to take that back, Y/N" He stands up from his seat, starting towards me where I'm sat by the kitchen island with my spoonful of food halfway between the plate and my mouth. Harry abandoned his food on the coffee table, the spaghetti barely touched.

I tilt my head to the side, slowly lowering the spoon, "Take what back? That you're an arrogant son of a bitch?", I challenge him, planting my feet on the ground to meet him in the middle of the room. "Because I was simply just stating the truth."

Instead of stopping, like I thought he would, he keeps walking, forcing me to retake my steps until my ass is pressed to the counter and Harry's body is flush against mine.

My breath hitches in my throat when he grasps my jaw, forcing me to crane my neck so my eyes can meet his. His pupils are blown so far that there is barely any green left in his irises as he leans his down until our noses touch and I can feel his breath hit my parted lips.

"Are you sure you don't want to take it back? This is your last chance before I fuck your throat so hard you can't speak."

I let out a shaky exhale, pinching my thighs together as his words go straight to between my legs. I struggle to maintain eye contact when his free hand squeezes my waist, gripping the counter hard enough for my knuckles to turn white as I speak, "You know I'm right."

Without giving me a chance to react, Harry connects our lips, my head tilting to the side from the force of it as I gasp in surprise. He takes the parting of my lips as an opportunity to tangle his tongue with mine.

After a few seconds, my body reacts to him before my mind can, my fingers tangling in his curls and gripping his waist. I can feel my heart beating out of my chest when he hoists me up to sit on the counter, moving his body between my legs without breaking the kiss. His centre pressed right against mine.

I can feel how hard he is already through the jeans we're both wearing as I am throbbing myself.

There is nothing gentle about the way he is clawing at every part of me he can get his hands on. The remnants of the wine and dinner is still on our tongues and the food forgotten when he grabs a handful of my hair in his grip, tugging it before he starts trailing kisses down my neck. Sucking and nibbling harshly at the skin before soothing the skin by licking it.

I let out an involuntary moan when he finds my sweet spot just underneath my jaw. He takes extra time there, suctioning the skin into his mouth gracing it with his teeth enough so that I'm sure I'll have a very visible hickey there tomorrow.

Harry's hips rut forward at the sound, groaning from the friction. His breath falters against my skin before he rips his mouth off my neck so he can reconnect our lips.

I welcome him back into my mouth, slipping my hand underneath his shirt. I let it travel over his smooth, warm skin, his abs contracting as I trace the waistband of his jeans. My body feels hot from his touch and I am ruining my underwear from how turned on I am.

Harry slaps my hand away when I start palming him through his jeans, groaning into my open mouth before he wraps his ring clad hand around my throat, pulling me off the counter.

"On your knees.", his voice is deeper than usual.

Normally I would protest to his demands, but I find myself dropping to my knees and looking up at him without a second thought.

Fucking hormones. I blame his fingers that are restricting the blood going to my brain just enough to make me feel dizzy.

"Look at you on your knees for me like a pathetic little slut.", he mocks me as he unbuckles his belt, his dick is straining against his jeans. "Whose slut are you?" Harry grasps my jaw, causing my swollen lips to pucker, popping the button before slowly dragging the zipper down.