Wrong

Chapter Two

I'm woken from a dead sleep, it's pitch black outside, and I feel a warm body draped over mine. I'm praying that I didn't sleep with some random chick last night, but I don't remember bringing anyone here. I think I've officially lost my mind.

For fucks sake Harry, what have you done?

The only thing I remember was the dream I had about Isla last night. I know full and well that it wasn't real, because quite literally that's the stuff dreams are made of. As a matter of fact, it was the most vivid dream I've ever had of her. She was perfect just the way I imagined her to be, it felt so real.

I confessed my love to her, and she confessed that she felt the same. We made love, fucked, made a sex tape, she played along with my daddy kink (which was amazing considering she's 14 years older than me), we showered together, and fell asleep in each other's arms. I'll have to store all of it in my memory bank for the next time I shamelessly fuck my hand while thinking about burying my cock inside her. Damn that woman drives me crazy.

My body is sore, and my muscles are tight, my hookup must have been wild. I'm so pissed off, because I promised myself that I was done with one-night stands. Even though I can't have her, I'm in love with Isla, my heart belongs to her. If that means I have to take care of my sexual needs on my own then so be it, she means that much to me.

Fuck, Styles you got it bad!

I try stretching my aching bones without disturbing whoever happens to be in my bed. Her body stirs, and she snuggles closer to me and then continues to sleep. Fuck, how am I gonna get out of this mess? I reach over to the nightstand and grab my phone to check the time. It's 1:34 AM, I really need to go back to sleep, because I have to get up early. But I feel uneasy considering my current situation. Why do I feel like I cheated on her when we aren't even a couple? The thought of it's making me sick.

My curiosity gets the best of me; I use the light from my phone to see if I know who's lying in my bed. I lift the long dark hair that's blanketed over her face and slightly pull the sheet off her naked body. I take a close look at her face...holy shit, Isla is in my bed with me. My heart begins racing in frantic rapid beats and I can't catch my breath.

I take a few moments to reflect on the events that I thought were a dream, which apparently were real life events. Those moments with her are no longer fantasies, they're reality. All the nights I spent wishing, hoping, praying that I can have her, are finally long gone.

It's difficult to believe this is really happening. In the two short minutes since I realized she's in my bed, my mind has battled from, I must still be sleeping, all the way to, for fucks sake I'm a lucky man because she's really mine. The truth is that Isla is here; my love, the woman who occupies my mind morning, noon, and night, the one who owns my heart, but doesn't even know it. Or now maybe she does, I'm just so confused.

She's lying on her side, using my bare chest as a pillow. I trace her body from her shoulder, along her side, over her hip, and down her thigh with my fingertips. My slow torturous trail makes her squirm in my arms, which makes my cock harden immediately.

This is pleasantly real, I'm genuinely happy to have something that's my own. This isn't something fabricated by management to create a playboy image, and it's not a phony shallow relationship that I'm playing a part in just so I don't feel alone. This is something honest, it's naturally blossomed into a love that's unexplainable.

I'm addicted, and now that I've had a taste of her physically and emotionally; I'm forever hooked. I should let her sleep but the selfish bastard I can be is dying to wake her up to confirm that she is in fact here in my bed and that she's not going anywhere.