Fool Me Again | Harry Styles

11 | I'll Be Home for Christmas

Harry didn't need to be asked twice. He immediately switched off the television, pulled me up off the couch, and led me down the hallway. We'd both already kicked off our shoes, so we tiptoed barefoot up the carpeted stairs, hand-in-hand.

He paused in his bedroom doorway, wrapped his arms around my waist, and started kissing me again.

"More mistletoe?" I murmured, slipping my hands under his jersey.

"Uh-huh," he breathed heavily. "The only people allowed through this door are people I'd kiss."

"People?" I asked, running my hands all over the bare skin of his back. "As in, plural?"

"People as in you," he said, tugging me into the moonlit room and kicking the door shut behind us.

I'd been in Harry's bedroom a lot of times, but it felt like it had been way too long. I'd always loved it – the spacious wooden floor with the floor-to-ceiling glass wall looking out over the city; the en suite to the left, the big bed to the right. God, had we made memories in here...

He reached down to hook his fingers under the edge of my dress and tug it up. I let him pull it over my head and drop it to the floor, before doing the same with his jersey.

I ran my hands over his bare chest as he slipped my bra strap off my right shoulder and leaned down to kiss my collarbone.

As he reached behind me to undo my bra's clasp, I started undoing the buckle of his belt. I could feel his hardness pressing against me through his jeans, making my hands shake as I undid his zipper and he tugged his pants down his legs and kicked them aside.

Our breathing grew faster and heavier as we kissed, and he nudged me onto the bed, gently pushing me down as he leaned over me. While bracing himself on one arm, he softly stroked my left breast with the other hand. I let out a heavy, shuddering sigh, and gently pushed my own hands against his chest.

He rolled over, so I was on top, and I sat up so I was straddling him. He placed both his hands on my hips as I slowly ran my fingers down his torso, over his butterfly tattoo and along the thin trail of hair at the bottom of his stomach. I slipped my fingers under the rim of his boxers and leaned down to kiss his chest.

"Em, I've missed you so much," he exhaled shakily. "I'm really so so so sorry about everything..."

"Shhh..." I moved my mouth up to his to shut him up. And suddenly I realised that I hadn't yet said the one thing that he had probably been waiting all night – all month – to hear. I pulled back to look him in the eyes.

"What's wrong?" he asked, gently stroking his fingers up and down my sides.

I only continued to stare at him, reached up to brush a stray strand of hair from his forehead, and leaned down to kiss his cheek. "I forgive you," I whispered. "I forgive you, Harry, and I love you, and now it's just you and me again. You and me. That's how it's meant to be."

Those words seemed to set him off, because he suddenly pushed me back and rolled me over and pinned me to the mattress, kissing me with so much force and fervour and passion, it made my stomach flip and churn and twist.

He ran his fingers slowly up the inside of my thigh, making my insides burn, before tugging my underwear down my legs and tossing it to the floor. He reached over to the drawer of his bedside table as I pulled his boxers down to his thighs. He kicked them off completely and I took the foil packet from him.

After rolling on the condom, I moved my hands to Harry's hair and he moved to hover over me again. He took a moment to adjust himself, then slowly slid into me.

I held my breath and bit my lip as he started moving while breathing heavily into my neck. I wrapped my legs around his and moved my hands out of his hair to wrap my arms around his shoulders as I held him close, letting the sensations wash all over and through me.

I couldn't help but be transported back to the very first time Harry and I had ever slept together. It had actually been right there, in that very same bed.

It had been a cool January evening, a couple of weeks after Christmas and me and Harry getting together, and we'd gone out on a date to a fancy, private restaurant in the city. After dinner we'd had a few drinks at a club a few blocks away, and then we'd headed back to Harry's home.

I was a nervous wreck as we headed up the stairs and into his bedroom and it all started happening. His hair had still been long, and it kept falling in my face, all sweaty, tickling my nose. I remembered the excitement, the thrill of being with him like that for the first time. And that feeling had never faded. Each time, it only grew stronger.

And this time was no exception. I was on the verge of tears as emotion threatened to overtake me, and I gripped Harry's shoulders tight as it all started to build up.

He was moving faster and faster, panting hot and heavy in my face as he kissed me. "I can't slow down anymore," he breathed.

"Then don't," I told him, squeezing my eyes shut in agonising bliss.

It wasn't long after that. Harry looked right into my eyes, and it was like fireworks exploding. I saw stars, or Christmas lights, or whatever they were, and I held Harry close as we both bathed in it.

After, he laid on top of me for another while, until his breathing slowed down, and then he moved off me, tossed the condom in the bin, and took me back in his arms.

We slipped under the covers and cuddled, skin on skin, heat still all around. I felt completely at peace and at home. Home for Christmas.

"What time is your flight tomorrow?" I whispered.

"Four p.m.," he whispered back, placing light kisses all over my neck and jaw and cheek.

"I don't want you to go," I said, and I didn't think he had replied. But maybe that was just because I'd fallen asleep. 

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I was debating over how graphic to make this chapter - hope I found a good balance.

Only one more chapter to go!

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