I slammed the door to the green room behind us, the bass from the stage still thumping through the walls. Harry Styles had that cocky half-smile on his face, sweat glistening on his neck from the show. "You followed me all the way back here," he said, voice low and rough. "What do you want?"
I didn't waste time with words. I grabbed his shirt and yanked him in, my mouth crashing against his. His tongue pushed deep, tasting like whiskey and mint. Hands roamed fast—his on my ass, squeezing hard, mine yanking open his belt. The buckle clinked as it hit the floor.
"Fuck, you're wet already," he muttered when his fingers slipped under my skirt and found my panties soaked. He shoved two fingers inside me without warning, pumping hard. I moaned loud, grinding down on his hand. "Yeah, take it. Ride my fingers like the slut you are for me."
I dropped to my knees, freeing his cock. Thick, veined, already leaking at the tip. I licked the head, tasting salt, then swallowed him deep. Harry groaned, fisting my hair. "That's it, choke on it. Suck me like you mean it." I bobbed fast, gagging when he thrust forward, spit dripping down my chin onto my tits.
He pulled me up, spun me around, and bent me over the couch. My skirt flipped up, panties ripped aside.
One hard thrust and he was buried balls-deep in my pussy. We fucked raw and filthy—him pounding relentlessly, skin slapping, my moans mixing with his grunts. "Tight little cunt, gripping me so good. You love Harry Styles cock, don't you?"
I came first, walls clenching as he kept slamming through it. He followed seconds later, flooding me with hot cum, hips jerking until he emptied every drop. We stayed locked like that, breathing heavy, his hands still possessive on my hips.
"Round two in the shower?" he asked, already hardening again inside me. I pushed back against him, ready for more.
