Dear Lando - Book Two

𝟸(𝟺) ♡ Only Angel

Only Angel By Harry Styles

Warning: Mature Content

Lana's back hit the cool wall, her breath catching in her throat as her fingers fumbled to pull Lando closer, needing the heat of his skin against hers. His lips were already there, hot and desperate on her neck, his breath ragged as he pressed his body flush against hers. The room seemed to spin around them, the only solid thing being the weight of his hands on her waist, pulling her in like he couldn't get close enough.

He growled her name, his voice low and raw, the sound sending shivers down her spine. "God, Lana..." The words were barely audible, almost a plea, as his lips brushed the sensitive spot just below her ear. She arched into him, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him even closer. The sensation of his teeth grazing her skin made her gasp, and she felt the smirk against her neck in response.

His hands traveled down her sides, a path of fire igniting along her body as his fingers traced her curves. He was relentless, teasing, his hands slipping beneath her shirt, fingertips brushing against bare skin, the warmth of his touch driving her insane. He met her eyes, his gaze dark and intense, filled with something raw, something that stole her breath away.

"I've wanted this for so long," he whispered, his lips hovering over hers, so close she could feel his breath. It was soft, tender, and yet there was a hunger in his voice that made her knees go weak.

She didn't get a chance to respond—his mouth was on hers, and every coherent thought evaporated. The kiss was anything but gentle. It was needy, urgent, the kind of kiss that spoke of pent-up longing. His tongue swept against hers, the taste of him intoxicating, making her head spin. She moaned into his mouth, her nails digging into his shoulders as she felt herself being lifted, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist.

With her back still against the wall, Lando's grip on her tightened, one hand splayed across her lower back while the other cupped the back of her neck. He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against hers, and she could feel the intensity of his gaze even with her eyes closed. Her heart pounded in her ears, her breathing shallow as she tried to find her voice.

"Lando..." she whispered, her voice breathy, filled with a mixture of need and uncertainty. He didn't say anything, just pressed his lips to her jaw, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down her neck. She could feel the tension in his body, the way he was holding back, the restraint barely there. And somehow, that made her want him even more.

He pressed forward, guiding her away from the wall, their bodies tangled together, his lips finding hers again. The kiss was slower this time, more deliberate, as if he wanted to savor every second. She felt herself being lowered onto the bed, her back hitting the sheets as he hovered above her, his eyes locked on hers, filled with a storm of emotions she couldn't quite decipher.

Her hands moved down his chest, fingers tracing the hard lines of his muscles, the heat of his skin beneath her palms almost unbearable. His breath hitched, and she felt him shudder under her touch, his eyes never leaving hers. It was as if they were the only two people in the world, the rest of it fading away into nothingness.

He leaned down, brushing his lips against hers, a whisper of a kiss, soft and full of something unspoken. His hand moved to her thigh, fingers curling around her leg, pulling her even closer. She gasped, her head falling back, her eyes closing as she let herself get lost in the feeling of him—the weight of his body, the heat of his skin, the way he whispered her name like a prayer.

It was overwhelming, intoxicating, the kind of dream that felt too real, too vivid. And in that moment, nothing else mattered—not the lies, not the façade, not the world outside. It was just him and her, tangled together, a mess of limbs and emotions, and the overwhelming feeling that this was exactly where she was meant to be.

Just as his lips found hers again, a loud noise shattered the moment, ripping her away from the intensity of it all. Her eyes snapped open, and she was suddenly staring at the ceiling of their hotel room, her heart pounding, her skin flushed, her breath uneven.

Lana blinked, trying to shake the dream from her mind, her body still buzzing from the sensation. She let out a shaky breath, her hand moving to her forehead, trying to steady herself.

"It was just a dream..." she whispered to herself, though even saying the words didn't make it feel any less real.

"What was just a dream?" Lando's voice broke through the morning stillness, his confusion evident as he stood by the door, hair still damp from his shower.

Lana's heart almost stopped, her body jolting in surprise. She whipped her head around to see Lando, his brows knit in curiosity, eyes locked on her.

"Erm, nothing," she stammered, the words leaving her lips faster than her brain could catch up. She quickly broke eye contact, feeling her cheeks heat under his gaze, and darted towards the bathroom. "Just... talking to myself."

Lando's confused expression lingered as she slipped inside, closing the door behind her with a snap. Lana stared at her reflection in the mirror, her cheeks flushed, her heart pounding, replaying the remnants of the dream she had just woken from. She let out a slow breath, trying to calm herself, desperately hoping that Lando would let it drop.

After a few moments, Lana gathered herself and rejoined Lando, who had since settled on the bed, scrolling through his phone. She busied herself with her bag, avoiding his gaze. She could still feel the remnants of the dream clinging to her—a mix of heat, embarrassment, and confusion that refused to dissipate.

They were in France for the Speedy Stars charity karting race—a fun, lighthearted event meant to raise awareness for their shared cause. But as Lana followed Lando out of the hotel room and down to the lobby, she couldn't help but feel a lingering awkwardness between them. Every time Lando's hand brushed against hers or when he flashed her a casual smile, all she could think about was the dream—the feeling of his lips on her skin, his hands pulling her closer.

The drive to the karting track was mercifully quiet, Lana keeping her eyes fixed out the window, her thoughts a chaotic mess. She could sense Lando glancing at her now and then, probably wondering why she was acting so strangely. But she couldn't help it—how could she look at him the same after a dream like that?

The day went by in a blur of activity, with fans, families, and the excitement of the karting event surrounding them. Lando, ever the extrovert, seemed to thrive on the energy, chatting animatedly with the kids and even hopping in a kart for a few laps. Lana tried her best to keep up, plastering on smiles and making small talk, but it was difficult to shake off the awkward tension she felt every time Lando looked her way.

She stood by the track, her arms crossed, watching Lando as he raced by, the wind tousling his curls, his grin wide and carefree. He was in his element here—relaxed, happy. 

"You okay?" Lando's voice pulled her from her thoughts. He had finished his laps and now stood beside her, his gaze filled with genuine concern.

Lana forced a smile, nodding quickly. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... tired, I guess."

Lando studied her for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly, as if he didn't quite believe her. He opened his mouth as if to say something more, but instead, he just gave a short nod. "Alright," he said, though his tone was careful, like he was trying not to push her.

Lana swallowed hard, her eyes drifting back to the track. She wished she could just erase the dream from her memory—go back to feeling normal around Lando. But deep down, she knew that wouldn't be so easy. And as Lando leaned closer, handing her a water bottle, his hand brushing against hers, she felt the rush of heat again, the dream replaying in her mind.