Paris In The Rain [h.s]

23 *

AN: Hey hi. This chapter sucks and I def wouldn't recommend. Pls ignore :)

Love you guys to the moon and farther.

~Alex

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The meeting seemed to be lasting forever.

Harry had entered a tall building over an hour ago and I was now sitting outside on a bench, struggling to keep still as I could still feel his warm hands and cool rings pressed against my skin. My bottom lip was raw from where I had been chewing on it and my thighs were sore from squeezing them together.

The effects this man had on me. Good God.

My phone was the only thing that seemed to be distracting me at the moment, although the background picture of Harry and I snuggling on the couch sent my mind racing straight back to him.

I remembered the way his lips felt against my neck as his hands ghosted themselves over the sensitive skin of my stomach and hips. The smallest touches always sent my senses into overdrive and it was as if my body craved his touch. His touch was a drug for me.

And boy was I addicted.

The way he made my heart race and my breath to hitch in my throat was almost unbearable, but it was something that I felt as if I couldn't go without. He made me feel so good. Not just sensually, but physically as well.

I wanted to make him feel good.

I wanted his heart to race and his breath to hitch in his throat. I wanted to hear him moan my name as I made him feel good in ways unimaginable. I just wanted to let him know how good he made me feel - if not even better than that.

My mind still felt guilty for leading him on so many times and making him feel like I didn't want him. It was something I never wanted him to feel ever again and I promised myself he never would. His heart was too pure to be left feeling like he wasn't wanted - when in reality he was the only thing I wanted.

"Hurry up, Styles," I mutter underneath my breath as my leg bounces impatiently while watching people walk out of the building who weren't him.

Loving couples passed me and I find myself closing my eyes, taking deep breaths. Never have I felt this way before. I've never felt the need for someone this strongly before - not even with Niall. Harry was different it seemed like. He knew exactly how to touch me and kiss me that had me hanging on for more. Every kiss never seemed like enough and every touch never seemed to burn long enough on my skin.

I just wanted more. More of Harry.

My phone dings as I get a text message, scrambling to see who it was from.

The Artist
2:53 p.m.
Getting onto the elevator now. Won't be much longer.

"Thank God," I sigh, becoming more and more impatient as the anticipation of seeing him walk out of the building grew with each passing second.

I practically moan in satisfaction once I see him emerge from the french doors, his eyes meeting mine as I pop up from the bench and walk up to him, "Sorry it took me so long, Flower," he smiles sweetly at me.