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

Twenty-Five

Katherine woke up that night from a very erotic dream about Mr. Styles. One where she had him writhing in pleasure below her as she took control of him.

Holy shit. It was so hot. Her whole body was heightened with sexual tension. And for a moment she thought about pulling out her vibrator to help get herself off. But then she had an even better idea.

She found herself tiptoeing out of her room, making her way to Mr. Styles' bedroom. The way he acted earlier that evening made it sound like he wouldn't be opposed to her taking control of him... maybe just once. He had never experienced it before. Maybe she could be the first. Maybe he'd actually like it.

She knocked lightly, but didn't hear a response, so she decided to open the door. She found the room completely dark, sans a glow of moonlight coming through the large windows he hadn't bothered to cover with any sort of shade. He never was one to sleep past sunrise anyway, so covering the windows seemed to be a moot point.

She closed his door quietly before making her way to his bed, finding him fast asleep. His blanket was kicked off, only leaving a dark sheet to cover his lower half with his right hand across his waist while his left arm was raised, his hand lying on the pillow above his head.

He was so beautiful. She wondered why he had never found someone to share his life with. He could have anyone, she was sure of it.

Katherine's body was filled with nerves as she slowly crawled up in bed with him, only then realizing how inappropriate it all seemed. She almost retreated and ran out of the room, feeling like a complete deviant, but swallowed it down and continued on her mission anyway.

Mr. Styles had made it clear on more than one occasion that whatever silent agreement they made to continue their sexual exploration with each other was very much still active.

She wasn't sure what her plan was going to be to 'dominate' him — she wasn't sure she actually could or would. But she knew she was throbbing for him after her sexually explicit dream and just wanted some sort of relief.

"Harry..." She breathed, skating her hand smoothly up his bare torso.

He didn't stir from her words or her touch so she continued to run her hand up and down his chest to try to wake him. His skin was silky and smooth underneath her fingertips.

She wanted to trace the butterfly tattoo on his stomach with her finger but knew she shouldn't. She didn't want to do anything to him that he wouldn't allow while he was awake. She had never tried to touch him that way before, but she figured it might not go over well.

"Harry," she said a bit louder, shaking his arm gently, and he proved to be unshakeable.

He slept like a damn rock. Maybe it was because his body was so exhausted from being a grumpy, hard-ass all day. It really seemed like he needed the time to recharge.

When she leaned in, gripping onto his wrist that was laying above his head, breathing his name into his ear, he finally stirred next to her.

In lightening fast movements, she let out a loud screech as he flipped her body onto her back on the mattress. His hands came up to her throat, squeezing tightly, causing her to immediately choke.

His eyes were feral as they stared down into hers, his breathing coming out in loud, angered puffs through his nose. She immediately began to fight against him, trying to get him to let up on his tight grip around her throat as she fought for air to breathe.

In a split second, his eyes filled with realization and his hands flew away from her as if she was made of fire.

"Katherine..." He choked out as she coughed and sucked precious air into her lungs.

Tears immediately sprang to her eyes as her hands wrapped around her neck, feeling so much pain in her windpipe.

"I'm-I'm sorry..." He stammered, looking so entirely afflicted.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he hissed as he turned away from her and sat on the edge of the bed with his face in his hands.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry," she whimpered, her voice hoarse as she scrambled up on the bed.

"Katherine..." He sighed softly, looking back at her with a pained expression.

"I'm sorry..." She apologized as she quickly got off the bed and fled from his room.

"Katherine..." She heard him again, but continued on toward her bedroom, shutting and locking the door behind her, quickly diving for her bed.

She cried herself to sleep that night feeling like such a fucking idiot. What made her think that was a good idea? It was her own fault for what happened. She was so stupid.