Harry Styles Imagines Book 2

Where were we?

Harry had been busy with meetings for the past four hours. Holed up in the office with his computer out as he was discussing various topics regarding his new album. Which he still won’t tell you the name of.

The little tease.

You’ve tried busying yourself with scrolling through tiktok. But that gold old pretty fast. Now the laundry is handled and you’ve run out of excuses to peak your head through the open door to get a sneak peak of what your husband is working on.

Harry had woken you up this morning with soft kisses all over your face before telling you that he had a lot of meetings he had to attend for his upcoming album.

Important meetings, he’d said.

After standing in the doorway for about three minutes, Harry finally notices your presence, smiling softly at you before redirecting his attention to the man he is talking to, snaping back in the conversation immediately.

His brown curls are pinned away from his forehead by one of the small clips he is always carrying around with him. His upper body covered in a knitted lilac sweater. But since the only thing in view is pretty much from his chest and up, he didn’t feel it necessary to put on anything other than a pair of black briefs.

His long, tan legs completely bare underneath the desk. His knees pointing outwards from how he is crossing his ankles.

The sight of his tiger tattoo inked across the powerful muscles gives you an idea.

The desk is pretty tall and lucky for you doesn’t have any drawers. So with Harry’s voice in your ears talking about things you don’t really understand, you make you way over to the edge of the desk before you drop to your knees.

You can practically feel Harry’s eyes bore into you when you crawl underneath the furniture. The carpet is definitely going to be uncomfortable against your bare knees, but you couldn’t give five fucks about it as you situate yourself on your knees right in front of him. His lap is at eye level with you.

Harry swallows audibly when you make eye contact with him, making you blink innocently at him.

When you lean the side of your face against the inside of his left thigh, he clears his throat, “I’ll mute myself for a second, mate.” You hear him push a button. Then another. Likely turning off his microphone and camera as you slide your hand from his knee and to the bottom of his briefs, lifting it up before letting it smack back against his thigh.

“Am I interrupting anything, my love?”, you ask. Knowing damn well that you are.

Harry tilts his head back, inhaling a deep, controlled breath before he suddenly grabs your wrist, pushing your hand away from his crotch. “What do you think you’re doing, y/n. I’m in a fucking meeting.” He hisses in an attempt to sound bothered. But the way his pupils are blown to the point where there is hardly any green left in his irises and his briefs are tightening significantly tells you that he is anything but.

Plus. The idea of getting caught has always been a major turn on for the both of you. Whether it’s having sex in the bathroom stall of a packed restaurant or Harry answering the phone and making you hold up a conversation while eating you out like his life depends on it.

“Do you want me to stop?” You kiss the soft skin on the inside of thigh, watching as the wheels turn in his head. “Cause I could get up and wait for you to finish. Or I can make you finish right here. Up to you.”

Harry smirks at you. That devious smirk that means you’re gonna be in big trouble. “You better get started then, princess. I’ve probably only got a couple minutes left before I can find an excuse to hang up.”