Book 1 || Finding Prince Charming || Harry Styles

Chapter 7

Her view.

My brain is fighting my body and just barely winning. "Come now." He steps away from me. "Please spend the night and relax. I feel like we got off on the wrong foot. I wish you no harm, beautiful Cassie." I blush as he compliments me. "I'm not beautiful."
"Do not tell me you're modest as well?"
"Well, you know. Some of us bimbos can be modest." I wink at him and watch as his face transforms in laughter. He stares at me for a moment and sighs as he steps away from me. "You're not from England?"
"Disappointed?" I raise an eyebrow at him, not caring what he thinks of me at this point. It's unlikely I'll ever see him again. "No." He shakes his head. "English girls are polite. I like a girl with some bite in her."
"Not all English girls are polite. You shouldn't make generalizations."
He nods his head. "You're right, of course. Would you like a drink?" He walk back to the door with a decanter of whiskey.
"No thanks." I shake my head and then yawn.
"I bore you?"
"I'm just tired."
"Five minutes ago, you were ready to make passionate love in my hotel room with my assistant. Now you want to go to sleep. I think I'm losing my touch."
I shrug my shoulders and look away, not wanting him to see how every muscle in me is hoping for him to touch me. I want to feel his warm, strong hands on my body, trailing a line of fire across my skin.
"I wasn't about to make love to--"
"I know you want me, Cassie." He cuts me off as he sips from his glass of whiskey and loosens his tie. "But I'm not a man that--"
"What's your name?" I interrupt him in surprise. It's not a name I'm familiar with.
"It means I last all night." He pauses, and my heart stops beating as we stare at each other in silence.
"In what language?" I whisper, unable to stop myself from playing his game.
"In the language of love."

He moves towards me smoothly and before I know it, his lips are crashing down on mine, softly and firmly. I melt against him, and my eyes widen as I feel his tongue doing things to mine that send a sharp thrill down my body. His eyes twinkle as I gasp against him, and he pulls away from me and whispers in my ear. "I told you my kiss alone could make you wet."
I look up at him with an incredulous expression, but he doesn't wait for me to respond. Instead, his lips crash down on mine again, and his hands find the crook of my back and pulls me towards him hard. I reach my hands up and place them around his neck, needing the support of his body to remain on my own two feet. This time, his kiss isn't soft and sweet. It's hard and searching. His tongue's exploring my mouth while his teeth nibble on my lip. But then he stops, takes my tongue in his mouth, and sucks. I have to try my best not to cry out in surprise and pleasure. I was thinking that he looks like a sex god, but this guy--this Harry--is sex himself.
"Shall we?" He takes my hand and leads me to the bathroom, pausing at the door with a question in his eyes. I nod mutely, not trusting myself to say anything as I stare at the handsome boy in front of me.