I could barely keep up with the strides of his long legs as he led me along the street. It was dark, our way illuminated only by the street lamps surrounding us. There was nobody else around us, this street being tucked away from the most populated areas of London on a Friday night.
I watched Harry monitor our surroundings, appearing satisfied that the streets were empty as we came to a sudden halt. I opened my mouth to speak, but I was cut off by the crashing of his lips against my own, silencing me immediately. I was pressed into the wall of a building upon my right, and suddenly, all of my senses were overcome by Harry. His hand came to rest upon my jaw, holding me to him, before they fell to my waist. My lips parted briefly, and he didn't hesitate to take advantage, with his tongue swiping across my lower lip before pushing into my mouth, causing my own hands to snake upwards to land on the sides of his face. As his tongue moved against my own, I couldn't stifle the quiet moan from rising in my throat, which seemed to only encourage his movements, as he almost clawed at my waist to bring me closer to him. My fingers brushed against the dark, loose waves of his hair, weaving into the strands and tugging on them lightly, prompting a low groan from him, which almost set my body on fire.
My heart was racing, as he suddenly pulled back, catching my bottom lip between his teeth as he did so. As my eyes fluttered open, I caught him watching me, captivated, his eyes almost glazed over with want. God, that was a sight like no other. His face flushed, his eyes hazed following the intensity of a kiss. It was the first and only time I'd ever seen that expression upon his face, but I decided then and there that I'd be satisfied looking at that forever.
"Christ," he muttered, confirming my suspicions that he, too, wanted me as badly as I wanted him. He turned to look over his shoulder, as if he was unsure of where to go, considering his options before, as if by some miracle, a black cab rolled along the street beside us. He turned to it, waving it over.
I had yet to speak, my hands moving to smooth over my dress where he had wrinkled it in his hands. Harry glanced back at me as the cab pulled over in front of us, and he pulled the back door open for me, nodding for me to climb inside. I did so, feeling his eyes on my every movement. He climbed in beside me, and spoke an address to the driver. I didn't even hear what he said, and I didn't care. In the dim lighting, I could see his lips were plumper than they had been before, his hair dishevelled from our kiss moments previous.
My body was buzzing with anticipation. I'd never felt such a sensation when kissing somebody before; such intensity, not even with Calvin. In the entirety of our relationship, I'd never been desperate for him, so wanting of him, not even in our earliest days, but here and now, it was taking everything for me not to launch myself at Harry in the back of this cab.
As if he sensed my temptation, Harry brushed his knee against my own, with a knowing smirk upon his lips. The small touches I'd received in our kiss had opened floodgates - I was now insatiable. I had no idea how long this cab ride was going to take, or where we were going, but I needed to feel his hands on me, now.
I was already in love with this rush - this rush of committing to spend a night with somebody with no strings attached. This was an unparalleled feeling; I hadn't felt anything like it before, but I refused to turn back now. This was anything but my comfort zone - but that was exactly what I was so, deeply sick of. It was something so simple, but I was sure I'd never felt freer - leaving a bar with somebody I'd only met moments before - Harry Styles, of all people. He was the push I'd been desiring - I needed things to change, and this was just that.
I felt his hand land on my leg, and was immediately pulled from my thoughts. I let his fingers curl around my chin, and he pulled me back to him to press his lips against mine - the connection was so heated - it was a deep, rough kiss that spoke more than I thought possible, but this time I beat him to the punch; swiping my tongue against his lip before he could do so to me, and I could've sworn I'd felt his lips smirk against my own as his fingers shifted from their grip on my chin to weave into my hair. He grasped it between his fingers, tangling them into my hair and giving it a gentle, yet firm, pull. I would've moaned if his own mouth didn't capture any noise that could've come from mine, and somehow everything around me disappeared - all of the stress, the anxiety, the directionlessness.. even our literal surroundings, in the back of a black cab in the centre of London - all I could feel was him, overtaking and occupying every single one of my senses.
It was as if he knew to stop there - he drew backwards, leaning back into his seat, a little breathless as he did so. His eyes, undoubtedly darkened with lust, left mine to stare ahead of him, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. I bit my lip back into my mouth, watching him carefully as I did the same. I wasn't sure if he had stopped due to where we were, out of decency, or if it was some sort of purposefully teasing tactic - if it was, it was certainly working. My entire body felt as if it was on fire. Or, perhaps - as the thought dared to enter my head - judging by the way in which he stared ahead of him, almost in a daze, his thumb briefly rising up to drag across his bottom lip, I dared to even contemplate whether he was feeling the same heat I was and didn't trust himself to remain sufficiently composed, here.
I, thankfully, didn't have any longer to ponder the thoughts behind his eyes, because the cab drew to a stop. Harry nudged me, silently encouraging me out of the cab before he leant forward to press his card against the reader to pay the cab fare. I complied, slipping out of the cab with him following closely behind me. I peered upwards, staring at the white terraced house, so typical of upper-class London. I was almost in awe - not even upon the completion of my law degree - or three other degrees, for that matter - would I be able to even dream of living somewhere such as this.
My lips almost parted to comment upon the sight before me, but I felt a pair of hands land upon my waist and a hard chest press against my back. My breath hitched in my throat, as Harry's fingers reached to pull my hair away to one side, away from my neck, and his lips moved to fill the space. I could faintly smell the alcohol I'd tasted upon his lips in our previous kiss as goosebumps began to arise upon my skin. His head tilted upwards to allow his lips to ghost over the shell of my ear, and my own tilted backwards, granting him the access he desired.
"Are you coming inside?" he murmured, his voice low against my ear and his fingers shifting to trace over the space between my shoulders.
"I'm here, aren't I?" I returned boldly, turning my head to face him, now, watching him cock an eyebrow in a daring tease of his own. I'd already begun to savour the reactions he'd given me at the couple of moments I'd dared to take the reins from him.
He grabbed my hand in his own and led me to the door, and I watched him reach into his pocket, dropping my hand momentarily to retrieve his keys and slot one into the door. As he fumbled with it, it felt like hours - it could only have been mere seconds, but my heart was practically thumping out of my chest in anticipation.
I could feel the tiny voice in the back of my head - the one I listened to far too often. My senses were practically screaming at me, "What are you doing?!", "This isn't you". But I didn't care. This was so far from my comfort zone - it was exactly what I wanted. It was what I needed.
Before I knew it, we were inside, but Harry didn't even bother to flick on any lights before he had me pressed against the door, his knee shoved between my legs. He wasn't acting starkly different from the way he had for the rest of the night, but now we were alone, he had certainly increased his intensity, or at least the way in which he showed it.
My lips parted at his movement, but he quickly moved back to capture them in his own and pressed his body against mine. My hands rose to weave back into his hair, tugging him to me in return. As his tongue pushed into my mouth, I felt his knee draw backwards from where it had been placing pressure between my legs, only for it to be replaced with his hand. My breath hitched in my throat and I couldn't stifle the moan rising in my throat and into our kiss as I felt his fingers draw over my inner thigh. The hem of my dress was then caught between his fingers, and I felt him peel it upwards, forcing it to collect above my hips. The pads of his fingers rested lightly against my clothed centre, and I could already feel my knees weakening at the ghost of his touch.
"Harry," I murmured, momentarily breaking our kiss, and drawing my head back to press it against the door. I watched his eyes fall over my face, a mixture of lust and intrigue clouding his features, illuminated only by glimmers of light breaking through the window, granted solely by the street lamps outside. It only allowed me to see slight traces of his face, but it was enough to capture his expression as he gazed down at me, almost beckoning his name from my mouth.
"God, come here," he almost growled, tugging me from the wall to rest entirely against him, his hands guiding me. I took it upon myself to press my lips to his neck, now, before guiding them upwards to nip at his ear. My movements across the room were reliant, entirely, on him, as I focused my attention on his skin beneath my lips, savouring the way in which I could feel his breathing growing heavy. He guided us through the house, my back pressing gently against another door before I felt it open - his arms steadied me, as my lips continued their assault, now, against his jaw, feeling a light layer of stubble against each kiss.
My lips were torn from his skin as the backs of my legs pressed against what I assumed was his bed, and his hands came to my shoulders, giving me a gentle shove backwards. I let myself fall, kicking off my heels to the side as my back now pressed against his mattress and I lifted my neck to watch him. My arms rested on either side of my body, supporting my weight as I watched him stand between my legs at the end of the bed. He leant over to his bedside table, flicking on a switch attached to a lamp, and the room illuminated in warm light around us.
Harry then leant forward, shifting himself to cover my body with his own and allowing his hands to fall either side of my head, his face hovering over mine. Our eyes met, before his fell to my lips, a gentle smirk beginning to tug on his. He looked as if he were about to speak, but before he could do so, I brought my fingers to slide undone the few remaining buttons upon his shirt, and then tugged the fabric down his shoulders. He drew himself back from me, briefly, to pull his shirt off, properly, tossing it behind him before bringing his lips back down to my own - except he didn't kiss me, not this time. Instead, his mouth only ghosted over mine, and I could feel his breath against my lips as his hand fell to the space between my legs. I drew my lip back between my teeth, as he drew a singular line with his one of his fingers along my clothed centre. I sucked in a breath, as he then pushed my dress further up my torso, before bringing a finger to curl it around the band of my underwear. Any doubts, any fears, any hesitation I may have sneakily possessed, was undoubtedly pushed straight from my mind as he tugged my underwear down my legs in one swift motion and brought his hand over my now bare centre.
"God," I breathed a gentle moan, as his finger now dragged a slow, tantalising line between my legs. I hadn't realised just how deeply I'd been turned on until this exact moment - I was breathless beneath him, only emphasised when the pad of his thumb moved to press against my clit, before he circled it, knowingly. Fuck, he was so, so attractive. His eyes were on mine, coaxing each moan from my lips as he began to quicken his pace, circling my clit relentlessly.
Just when I felt as if I was reaching my limit, his finger traced over my entrance, and I could've cried out in desperation. As if he sensed the way I was practically aching for more of him, he obliged, sliding his finger into me and causing my back to arch into his body above me. I was almost trapped by him, as he overtook every single of my senses, setting my body on fire. He had me in his grip, he had our eyes locked, my body at his mercy - in that moment, I was his, to use however he pleased. And he could tell.
"Spread your legs more for me," he murmured, his tone low, and expectant. It was like he knew I wouldn't hesitate to do just that - I was almost embarrassingly compliant, but I didn't care. I needed him so badly in that moment, I didn't want to prevent his touch in the slightest. As I did so, he pushed a second finger into me, and I threw my head back into his mattress, a loud moan escaping my lips. "Mm, that's it," he hummed, bringing his lips over my jaw, his hair brushing briefly over the side of my face. My hands had gripped tightly onto the backs of his shoulders, until he grabbed both of my wrists in his only free hand, and pinned them above my head, leaning onto them to keep his balance above me.
I gasped, "Harry, I'm-" I started, before I was cut off by his thumb moving back to rub against my clit, sending all comprehensible thoughts flying from my head. I came undone against his fingers, losing control of my movements and held in place only by his grip on me. My eyes fluttered shut, the feeling of ecstasy overtaking my senses as Harry's forehead pressed against my own, soaking up every sound that fell from my lips. The expression on his face, as I peered up at him through my eyelashes, forcing my eyes open to meet his - the expression was like nothing I'd ever seen before; so inviting, coaxing each reaction from me, but also relishing, himself, in what we were doing. He almost appeared captivated by me beneath him, as I was by him.
My heart was racing as he released his grip on my hands, and pushed himself off me. I almost winced at the lack of contact, his body separated from mine causing an emptiness. He stood up, hovering at the end of the bed, gazing down at me on the mattress in front of him - I was breathless, my chest rising and falling rapidly, my bare body exposed to him. I usually would feel so vulnerable during sex, regardless of my partner - I would always feel this hesitation; this fear of showing myself; a fear of truly being seen. I was terrified to be seen without my clothes on, and I felt so incredibly exposed beneath his piercing gaze. But I didn't feel like I wanted to cover up at all - instead, he was equipping me with an unfamiliar sense of confidence - the way his tongue swiped over his lip as he watched me, his eyes scanning my body. I used my hands to push myself upwards, bringing myself up onto my knees on the bed in front of where he stood. I couldn't ignore the trembling of my legs as I brought them under myself.
I pushed my hands up his chest to rest them on his shoulders, before bringing my fingertips to the nape of his neck. His eyes dropped to mine, and I noticed how the cockiness had appeared to have shifted from his features - he no longer seemed so knowing, so smug, or rehearsed with each move. Instead, his lips were parted as he followed my movements - he almost seemed in a trance of sorts, watching me so carefully. I figured it was the alcohol in his system.
"Harry," I murmured, bringing my lips to his jaw once more, as my hand dragged over his chest, my fingers tracing over the silver chain hanging from his neck. I wound the length of it around my fingers, feeling the cool metal of the cross pendant against my palm. He obliged to my movements, brushing his own forehead against my temple, before I released the chain from my fingers. Harry didn't move, however, remaining pressed against me, as my hand then shifted downwards to his lower abdomen to curl my fingers around his belt buckle, feeling him lean into my touch.
"Mm?" he returned, his voice incredibly low as his own hands shifted to rest upon my waist, before his left moved to meddle with the clasp of my bra, smoothly releasing it. "Tell me what you want, Isabella."
I nudged my nose against his jaw, and in that moment, I'd never felt more alive. If only he knew me - truly, he'd have known how out of character this was for me - how deeply unfamiliar this territory was. I'd lived my life so passively, so quietly, so miserably. If only he'd known how out of my depth I truly was in that moment, or how deeply out of character it was for me to vocalise anything I wanted. Our situation was a mere microcosm - I never, ever asked anybody for a thing, most definitely not for my own happiness, or pleasure. I lived my life doing what everybody else wanted, fuelled by others' desires, rather than my own. That ended tonight.
I drew my head back to meet his darkened eyes, as he awaited my response. His hand rose to the side of my face, his thumb shifting to draw over my bottom lip, gently tugging it downwards. I let my own hand shift downwards, further, allowing my palm to press against him, undoubtedly aroused, in his jeans. A low hiss left his lips I rolled my thumb over him, and I held my eyes on his, our contact unwavering.
"I want you."
That was all it took for my back to collide with the mattress again, and for Harry's hands to finally remove his belt. He pulled his trousers from his legs with ease, and if I wasn't so desperate to feel him inside of me, I would've taken the time to relish in such movements - to have felt him in the palm of my hand. But he, as well as I, wanted more.
I leant upwards, pulling my bra off, now, and watching him draw his lip between his teeth as he finally pulled off his underwear. I didn't even have time to admire the sight of him in front of me - only mere seconds, as he reached into the drawer of his bedside table and retrieved a condom from it. He skillfully tore open the package with his teeth, and I watched him, entirely mesmerised, as he pulled it from the foil, and slid it over his length with ease. Still, even that wasn't sufficient to fully appreciate the sight of him above me - but he was now back on the bed, hovering over me. He shifted his hand to push my legs apart, and I could already feel the tip of him against my entrance. Before I could even open my mouth to beg him for more, he obliged, pushing himself inside of me and causing both of our mouths to fall open in acknowledgement of the overwhelming feeling.
His forehead fell to press against mine, his eyes closing as he filled me completely. I could already feel my thighs trembling at the size of him, and before I could even begin to adjust, Harry pulled back out of me again, waiting a mere second before pushing himself back in. My head fell backwards, pressing into his pillows, as his lips ghosted over my own, his breath fanning back over mine. Each time I thought I had begun to adjust, Harry would rock his hips backwards and then push forward into me, filling me in a way I'd never experienced, and earning a groan from us both.
My hand subconsciously shifted to rest upon the side of his face, and I almost retracted it, fearing that would feel a little too intimate, but his hand closed over my own, resting upon my wrist and holding my touch in place. I didn't have time to dwell on the gesture, as I was entirely overcome by the feeling of Harry inside of me, pushing me closer and closer to the edge.
"You feel so good," he breathed against my hair, and if I could've summoned the strength for a response, I would've told him the same. I'd never experienced a one-night stand, but this didn't feel like I'd expected it to. Each of our movements felt so intimate, so much more than physical - it was somehow like I'd known him far longer than just a couple of hours. I didn't feel the disconnect that I'd expected to - but then again, this was new territory. I hadn't known what I was in for.
I'd thought that the heating sensation of my skin, and the arising feeling in the pit of my stomach couldn't possibly intensify any further, but when his hand fell from its place on top of mine to circle back over my clit, I was done for. I arched my back into him, and my moans were silenced by his lips upon mine as I came undone beneath him for the second time that evening, my body beginning to shake in pleasure, Harry's voice sounding against my lips, coaxing me through my orgasm.
I could feel his thrusts both quickening and deepening, and I sensed he was almost there, with me. I forced my eyes back open to meet his own, my breathing far from steady as I watched him carefully. His hair was strung over his forehead, the piercing green of his eyes somehow growing darker, and intensifying by the second. His forehead was glistening with sweat, his face illuminated only by the gentle lighting around us - he looked beautiful.
His forehead pressed to my shoulder as he pushed deeply into me, one final time, before his thrusts slowed, and weakened. I could've sworn I'd heard the murmur of my name fall from his lips as he reached his orgasm, causing a small, unidentified twist in my gut.
"Fucking hell," he mumbled, pulling out of me, and rolling his body away from mine to land on the mattress beside me. He exhaled deeply for a moment, and I didn't bring my eyes to him as I sensed him removing and discarding the condom. I bit my lip back into my mouth, not daring to face him - a million and one thoughts were clouding my mind, but not one was laced with regret. That was new.
I turned my head, slowly, only to find his eyes already on me, almost awaiting my attention. I met his gaze, and watched his eyes drop over my face, before returning to mine.
Harry was studying my face, carefully. It was like he had something to say, but feared breaking our silence by vocalising his thoughts. I scanned his own face, taking it in with the benefit of our minuscule distance. His face was so sharply defined, yet in this moment, it was free of expression. Its natural state, free from a playfully raised eyebrow, or pursed lips, appeared to say just as much as his deliberate expressions did.
"D'you want to stay?" Harry asked me, suddenly, before his eyes widened and he tore them from mine. It was like he hadn't expected those words to leave his lips - as I hadn't, either.
I bit my lip back into my mouth, shaking my head slowly, "I shouldn't." I'd felt as if I'd had just about enough adventure for tonight. I was exhausted, and I feared pushing myself any further out of my comfort zone would prove too much and shove me into regretting the entire thing.
Harry nodded, his expression blank - if my response wasn't what he'd been looking for, he certainly didn't show it.
"I'll call you a cab," he said, bringing his eyes back to me now. He stood up, and I watched him wander across the room, over to a collection of drawers. He pulled out a pair of underwear and slipped them on, not bothering to shield himself from me - why would he? I had just seen, quite literally, all of him. He then pulled on a pair of black sweatpants and moved back over to the bed to pick up his trousers from the floor. He retrieved his phone from the pocket, and dialled a number, pressing it to his ear. As he did so, he reached onto the floor and handed me my dress, which had laid in a crumpled heap at his feet. I accepted it sheepishly, as he then handed me my underwear, and my bra. I watched him bite his lip back into his mouth, almost stifling an embarrassed chuckle of his own, before the line appeared to connect and he began to make his phone call.
I watched the muscles in his back and shoulders flex as he moved from one side of the room to another. I pulled my underwear and my bra back on, before standing up to step back into my dress. As I did so, his call ended, and he set his phone down.
"Five minutes," he told me, and I nodded. I stepped back into my dress, pulling it up over my body and reaching for the zip to tug it up my back. Before I could awkwardly contort my body to close it, I felt a strong pair of hands land upon my waist. "I've got it," he murmured, closing his fingers around the zipper and tugging it upwards in one, smooth motion. His hand, however, lingered between my shoulders, tracing slowly across the back of my neck. I felt myself shiver slightly - it wasn't more than moments previous that he'd hitched this very dress upwards in order to shove his hand between my legs, but even this innocent gesture was sending an array of thoughts spiralling through my head.
"Thank you," I said softly, turning back to face him. His hair was still dishevelled, his bare chest exposed without a shirt to cover it - I had to force my eyes to remain on his face. I figured he could sense that, as I saw traces of his smirk returning to his features. I reached for my shoes, slipping them back on.
"Here," he said, now, turning back to the drawers behind him. He retrieved a black sweatshirt, slouchy, and lacking any logos, and he handed it to me. I gazed at him, slightly puzzled. "It will be freezing out there, now," he clarified. I looked at him for a moment longer - was it normal to give your clothes to a one-night stand? Maybe if you were Harry Styles, and you were rich enough to easily replace them. I decided against asking any further questions, and I simply pulled the sweatshirt over my head, thanking him again. As I did so, I was hit with the smell of cologne that had occupied my senses all night.
It was interesting how his demeanour had shifted - maybe he was regretting this already. Or perhaps, he was sensing my own uncertainty, and fearing pushing any further. It was almost ironic, that the flow of conversation had ceased only after we'd been the most vulnerable we could possibly be with one another, but I didn't dare stand in his presence and over-analyse myself into a spiral.
As he walked me to his door, it was only a second or two before I spotted the lights of a car through the window - my cab was here. I picked up my bag from where I'd discarded it by the door, and glanced back at him, who had yet to remove his eyes from me, unsure of what to say.
"This was fun," I told him, honestly, unsure of what was truly the correct way to say goodbye to him. I wasn't sure if that was the right thing to say, but I also wasn't sure I'd see him again - judging by the nature of our hasty meeting, interaction, and now goodbye, I very much doubted it. Though I would've, perhaps, liked to, this night with Harry was becoming symbolic of much more for me, beyond him - it was a new beginning, a new chapter in my life, where I did what I wanted. Or, I'd at least try to.
Harry cocked his head to the side, an almost amused expression on his face as he ran his tongue over his lips to wet them. "It was, Isabella."
As I turned to open the door, my mind entirely occupied with the way my name sounded rolling off his tongue, he surprised me by wrapping a hand around my wrist and pulling me back to him. I spun around, only to be met with his lips crashing back into mine. The kiss was smooth; it lacked the urgency the previous ones had, but it certainly didn't lack the heat. It only lasted a few seconds, before he let me go, a tiny grin playing on his lips as he slowly removed his hand from the side of my face.
"Goodnight, Isabella," he told me, his voice light and innocent, as I stepped out of the front door.
"Goodnight, Harry," I returned, sending him once final glance, and feeling his eyes burning into me as I somehow walked away from him.