Mr. Styles (H.S.) [COMPLETE]

Six

Katherine sat on the table with her legs wrapped up against Mr. Styles' hips, his fingers digging into her haunches as his eyes stared down at her, watching her contently. She had never felt more wanted in all of her life. How did he do it? Maybe it was because he did truly want her – even if it was only for sex. It was sure to be the best sex she ever had. She was absolutely certain of it.

Katherine pulled out his shirt tails from his slacks before she finished the task of fully unbuttoning it. Her hands slipped into the sides of the shirt helping push it off his shoulders as he shrugged out of it, letting it fall to the floor.

Once it was discarded, she noticed that his left arm was filled with many, many little tattoos spattered up and down it which she could only assume to be from his youth. She couldn't see him getting those tattoos as the hard-hitting man he now was. She wondered their meaning and why he got them, but only gave it a few seconds of thought before her eyes traveled over the rest of his upper body, admiring every inch. He was well-sculpted – a body she was sure he took pride in keeping fit.

As her fingers fumbled with the fastening of his slacks, he reached in his pocket and produced a simple shiny square package – a condom. Her eyes met his as her mouth dropped open slightly, her fingers stilling their mission.

Was he the kind of man who was really that prepared? Or was he anticipating this all along? Did he have some sort of sixth sense that she'd give in so easily the next time she was in his presence? Or was it his I-get-what-I-want philosophy that gave him such confidence in her bending to his will?

The second his teeth gripped the foil and she heard the unmistakable rip of the condom packaging, all the questions were wiped from her mind.

"Feel free to continue, Miss Mason," he commented, smirking blithely at her.

"Oh," she breathed, snapping out of her daze as her fingers fumbled once again at the fastening on his pants.

Before she could take another breath, his black slacks were pooling at his ankles. He kicked out of his shoes and pants as her fingertips grazed the elastic waistband of his black Calvin Klein's.

She wondered what kind of fantasy this was fulfilling for him – fucking his housekeeper? What was it? What pleasure did she hold for him? Surely she was just a conquest he found himself drawn to. It really was the only explanation. He must get his kicks from fucking the help. Surely his other housekeeper would have stuck around longer if he hadn't grown bored with her.

Katherine shook her head. Her mind was running wild. She had no idea why his previous housekeeper chose to leave. Hell, she didn't even know if she chose to leave. She had no clue what her backstory was. She was just making up shit in her head.

"Have I lost your attention, Miss Mason? That is new for me," she heard Mr. Styles' husky voice and her eyes snapped up to his.

"Women don't usually bore so quickly with me. Do I have to step up my seduction techniques?" He questioned, smirking wryly at her. He was being facetious and she kind of loved that about him.