Harry Styles' P.A

Fuck away the pain

A.N: this chapter is basically just smut all the way, just so you know. Smutchapter. You're warned.

"Harry....."

Fuck. The way I say his name gets me even more excited. I meant to just sigh, but I'm not really doing a good job of it. I say his name with a sound that's somewhere in the middle of a sigh and a moan and it's loaded with hornyness. And judging by the hot feeling in my neck, I'm blushing because of it, and I'm pretty sure Harry can see that.

Shit.

I clear my troath.

"You shouldn't say stuff like that. You'll get us in trouble."

I would never say I'm the brightest bulb in the box, but I'm sure Harry can clearly notice that I'm just saying this for the sake of sounding professional. Instinctively, and honestly horny to the end of my wits, I'm already leaning into his embrace, my head tilted and leaned back against his shoulder, baring the skin of my neck at him. I can feel his breath, and then suddenly his nose. He nuzzles my neck and my sigh sounds like I'm shivering. On the contrary, I'm burning up. What is he doing? Why am I reacting this way? Or better yet, not reacting at all? Not the way I should anyway. I should be pushing him away.

"Nobody has to know." His soft, low, drawling voice mumbles against the skin of my neck, his breath warmly tickling on the sensitive spot in my neck.

Oh my god, I think I'm drooling. This is not good.

I take a few deep breaths, maybe a full minute of him just nosing my neck, and me just trying to remember how to breathe and talk, before I'm able to answer.

"For heavens....for heavens sake. You're my boss."

I'm panting. Doesn't he realise what this is doing to me? My selfcontrol is already basically nowhere to be found, and I'm starting to feel bad about all the filthy things I want him to do to me. Or what I want to do to him. Almost, because I have a feeling he fully intends on taking care of my wet situation, no matter what that might take. It's not that I'm taking advantage of his kindness. He's coming on to me! But he is still my boss.

"I'm hurt, Lilly", he says with a low, teasing voice, nuzzling under my ear as he speaks, so I'm sure he's not actually hurt.
"I thought we were friends."

Now I puff out an annoyed huff. Seriously? Playing the friend card now? What kind of friend would be trying to get in my pants? And then he had something to say about Louis' flowers.

Oh damn. Louis. Louis is going to hate me. Right? I don't know. He's been with girls right? Harry and he aren't even on speaking terms at the moment. I don't even know how he really feels about Harry.

"Ofcourse we're friends Harry, don't be ridiculous. I care more about you than anyone else. That's exactly why this would be wrong. I can't take advantage of you like this. It would feel like I'm using you for my own pleasure."

I can't believe I just said the word pleasure in that context to Harry while he has me trapped against the counter. But once again he surprises me. He spins me around and pins me against the counter with his hips again. He looks at me so intensely, I look away, but he grabs my chin and pulls my face up to his, gently, but firmly.

"Look at me." His voice is soothing, thick and sweet as honey, but god , how am I suposed to look at him?

I take another deep breath and slowly look up to him. That wasn't my smartest decision, because slow means my eyes linger. On his stubble. His full, soft lips. His perfect nose. His pupils are widened, like he's excited too. But that can't be, right? He's just being kind. Or feeling guilty. Wich he should be for dragging me into that bloody commercial. But I'm still nervous. He gently rubs my jaw with his thumb as his other hand caresses my hip. His hand leaves a warm trail on me, even trough my dress.