Harry Styles recently parted ways with his bandmates and is embarking on a whole new adventure - his debut solo album. Uncertainty keeps his heart guarded as he cautiously opens up to the world on his own.
Francesca 'Franki' Leto is hopelessly devot...
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"Fuck-"
Franki's breath left her mouth in a stifled moan the second her vision started to go blurry. Her head was tipped back into her pillow as she grasped at the fitted sheet underneath her with clenched fists, desperate to somehow keep her body anchored to the bed. Harry's decision to wake her up that morning with his roaming lips had her convinced that gravity had completely given out and nothing could keep her from floating to the ceiling. The moment he disappeared under the thin white sheet and his lethal tongue started working its magic only confirmed it.
"Oh, fuck." Her second moan came out far louder than the first, an uncontrollable plea as she felt her high simmering red hot in her belly. But her mouth immediately fell open when Harry pulled away and tossed the sheet back behind his head.
"Shhhhh!" He let out a laugh, his eyes wide and lips curved into a smile as he dragged the back of his hand across his chin. "Supposed to be quiet!"
"God- please don't stop," she pleaded, involuntarily tilting her hips upward in need.
His smile turned into a smug smirk as he pressed his palm down on her inner thigh, returning it to its place for easy access. "Love it when you beg..." he muttered, lowering his head excruciatingly slow.
He knew exactly what he was doing.
Franki arched her back in desperation. "Please," she panted, forgoing any sort of subtlety and letting him know exactly what she needed. After another moment of her teetering at her tipping point, she finally felt his smile against her inner thigh. He pressed his lips to the sensitive skin, pulling kiss after kiss and leaving a trail leading back to her heat. And all at once, Harry was licking his lips and then swiping his tongue all the way from her entrance to her clit.
Just like that Franki was gone - jaw locked and stars once again blurring her vision. Harry smoothed his hands over her thighs and tucked them underneath before one swift pull had his face buried even closer to her center. His tongue worked torturous circles against her most sensitive spot, drawing reckless moan after moan from her chest - her satisfied sounds encouraging every move.
"You taste so fucking good," his deep, raw voice vibrated against her clit as he took a breath, sending another loud moan into the air. She couldn't care less who heard her as long as she could feel him where she needed him the most.
"Fill me up, please," she begged, letting go of the wrinkled sheet only to dig her fingers into his hair. A simple tug at the roots of his curls had a moan leaving his mouth this time. And with his lips lifted into a devious smile, he brushed his fingertips along her entrance before dipping his middle digit inside only to pull out and add another.
His second push had her letting out a sigh as the knots in her belly tightened so tight she could've sworn they'd snap. But when his movements turned agonizing, fingers gliding slowly in and then easing out to their tip, she couldn't help but furrow her brows in desperate need.
