The Maid For Styles

Chapter 74

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Chloe's POV

His hands were everywhere; my face, my torso, even my thighs. Every inch of skin that covered my flesh and bone was consumed by his wandering fingertips, leaving me panting and gasping for the air my lungs were in desperate search of.

I revelled in the pleasure his touch brought me and basked in the soft whispers of unconditional love that were muttered into my ear. With his fingers in all the right places, my body was uncontrolled, completely and utterly his as he fervently took me with a passion I hadn't been exposed to.

The heavy breathing that the two of us emitted echoed in our ears, blending in perfectly with the additional gasps and moans heard. And, within the minutes his slow, languid actions had provided us with a new found pleasure, we were pushed to the edge and abruptly experienced a type of euphoria only imagined about.

With sweaty skin and harsh, uncontrolled breaths, we wallowed in the pure bliss his skilful touch-

With wide eyes and heavy pants escaping past my lips, my body shot up straight, rigid and unyielding. The deep slumber I'd indulged myself in had been quickly interrupted when the very thing I desperately hadn't wanted to bring myself to think about, disturbed it. Staring at the wall across from the bed I sat in, I tried to even out my breathing and control the rapid beat of my heart. My sweaty skin allowed the sheets to cling to me in a bothersome way, eventually pushing me to kick them off me and down to the edge of the mattress.

4:00am.

It was early in the morning, but not late enough to rise from the comfort my bed held. Despite the fact my bed was inviting, I refused to allow myself to fall back asleep, knowing that my dreams would be full of Harry. He caused me enough heartache in person and my dreams were supposed to be the place in which I could escape him, yet after my breakdown in his bedroom, that hadn't seemed to be the case.

I'd fallen asleep on the grass in the backyard as I attempted to calm myself down. Despite the never ending stream of tears, the stress and hurt my body had undertaken finally caught up with me and I'd drifted off into a restless sleep under the night sky. It hadn't been until Louis and Zayn found me that I'd woken up and realised I was outside. As they consoled me, they carried me upstairs and gently laid me down on my mattress, before shooting me one last look of sympathy and leaving.

Leaving Harry in his room with watery eyes and a possible guilt ridden mind made me wonder if I'd knocked some sense into him. It pained me to have to scream the longing for an apology that had consumed me for days, because I hadn't wanted to have to tell him. In my mind, he was supposed to initiate it himself and understand where he'd gone wrong. Instead, I had to drown myself in the self-loathing that came along with the feeling of weakness, and cry out for the apology I needed.

To say I was disappointed with myself for falling back under his spell, almost giving in all too quickly and showing him just how hurt and pathetic he'd made me feel, was a definite understatement. I couldn't believe I'd allowed him to see me at my weakest and witness the emotional destruction that had commenced days earlier. I'd convinced myself that if he saw me in such a state, he'd feel a sense of achievement, but with the tears I'd seen in his eyes and the pleading for me to stay, I had figured that he really didn't understand exactly what he'd done to me. Yet, that was the worst part of it all; he didn't understand.

I fidgeted on the mattress, tossing and turning from one side to the other, hoping the time would pass quickly. My body refused to sleep and it was almost as if the thought of Harry automatically repulsed my system. I didn't want fall back into a deep sleep, in which he would haunt my dreams. Instead, I spent the early hours of the morning yawning and waiting for the clock to strike the hideous time of six o'clock.