Irrevocable // Harry Styles

“I'm your teacher – We can't do this” he panted; hot breath leaving in its wake, a trail across my bare skin.

“Harry, if you don't want to, then all you have to do is stop” my fingers enclosed tightly, around the zip of his jeans. Brushing gently against his crotch. Taunting him, in a painful bliss, I slowly tugged the metallic object down to its end.

His heavy lids fluttered, the lashes shadowing his green eyes. His tongue caressed his lower lip, glazing it with moisture, before the whites of his teeth tore down hard. He was losing every ounce of self control; beginning to unravel and revel in the moment.

“I can't” he whimpered. The palm of his hand tightly gripped the lumber of my back. A simple action, that represented his return.