Written by: loveinslowmotion on archive of our own

Posted on: September 29, 2016

Description: When two models meet when cast together for a fragrance campaign, they discover acting isn't so necessary when finding their spark.

Official Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8161631

Warning: This chapter contains mature content. Please read at your own risk! :)

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Harry was shitting himself. After landing another huge deal, cementing his career as more than just a fleeting face that would be forgotten by next season, he was so, so, so stoked, but also so, so, so nervous.

'Decadence' was a rich scent, potent in floral fragrance, suited to the sophisticated and flirty woman. It incited confidence and an air of lust, an irresistible pull that can't help people from thinking "Who's that girl?" It's indulgent and romantic, if only for the night.

Or something like that, anyway. Harry didn't know a great deal about women's perfume, understandably, other than if you spun some fancy nonsense and put some near-naked people in your ad, people were going to buy it, if for nothing more than the designer label and admittedly really pretty bottle.

Harry was one of two gorgeous specimens to be the face of the new fragrance. The other was a more seasoned model, one he recalled seeing on the cover of one of his sister's magazines when he was a teenager and thought she looked really freaking fit. Her picture had been plastered in the window of Topshop three years ago when he was eighteen and had gone for a trip into London with some friends, her flawless face looking down at him while a lady stopped him in his tracks to hand him her business card. In a weird way, it was like he had come full circle: from seeing the beautiful blonde's face when he had been scouted to starring in an ad campaign alongside her. Sometimes life could be really fucking grand.

From the day he had taken a leap of faith and gone into the agency to be officially offered a contract, Harry had been granted a lot of luck. It had never been a career he had considered going into, but it turned out to actually be pretty fun. A lot of hard work, sure, but he got to travel the world, meet a ton of new people, go to all these fancy events, and yeah, get quite a lot of female attention for his handsome genes. It sure beat a lot of other jobs out there by a long shot.

A string of good fortune led Harry through countless fittings and photoshoots, walked him down runways and red carpets, until 'Harry Styles' wasn't just a name that people scratched their heads at, it actually meant something. Maybe not to everyone out there, but the fashion world knew who the charming twenty-one-year-old was, and that was what really mattered.

This fragrance deal was going to grant him a new wave of attention, from buyers and booking agents alike. If it went well, maybe he would be opening and closing more shows, landing more campaigns for bigger brands, earning himself more magazine spreads. That was the goal, anyway.

Harry was early when he arrived on set. He'd Googled their location when he couldn't sleep after getting off the plane yesterday, but he couldn't have been prepared for seeing the extravagance of the chateau they were shooting at in person. He never was.

A driver took him to the breathtaking residence that sat outside of Paris. They rolled through cast-iron gates up a long gravel driveway, a few other expensive cars already parked at the end. Harry couldn't take his eyes off the building – it had to be a hundred years old, at least. It was well taken care of, with blooming gardens and ivy growing up along the stone walls. He kind of wanted to sit down on a picnic blanket with some little sandwiches and just enjoy the pleasant view, but there wasn't time for that.

After thanking the driver, Harry was escorted up through the massive medieval-style doorway and to the second level of the chateau. The interior was even more stunning, but he only got passing glances as he was guided to where they were actually working.

Upstairs, Harry shook hands with the photographer and some of his team lingering in the long hallway, all of them curiously with cupcakes in their hands. That wasn't something he was used to seeing on set.

"You're in the room two doors to the left," the photographer informed him, his British accent giving Harry a sense of assimilation in such a spectacular place he didn't feel like he belonged in. "We'll get you all sorted out and we'll get started. Oh, have you met our Miss Swift before? You must meet her, she's fantastic, her baking's incredible. Best woman you'll ever work with, I'm telling you."

The photographer – "call me Xavier" – walked him down the hall, past the room he had indicated was Harry's and to one that was a couple more doors down. Before anyone answered their knock, the sound of music playing inside the room welcomed them first, and Harry realised the fast tempo of the song matched the beat of his heart. God, why was he so nervous? She was just a person.

A really pretty person. A really, incredibly, undeniably beautiful person. God.

She was getting her hair curled and her nails painted a berry red when they were let inside the bedroom-turned-dressing room. In the reflection of the mirror in front of her, she met his stare and she smiled at him. A perfect, heart-warming smile.

"Miss Taylor, you've outdone yourself with those cupcakes. They're delicious, I could eat every one," Xavier gushed, making her laugh. Oh, wow, did Harry like the sound of her laugh.

"I'm glad you like them," she said warmly, and an American accent might not have been his favourite, but boy did it sound nice coming out of her red-stained lips.

"This is Harry," Xavier introduced him with a gesture of his hand. "Harry, this is Miss Taylor."

"Nice to meet you," Harry greeted her kindly.

"You don't have to call me Miss," Taylor told him with that same smile that was gluing him to the spot. Harry had been around plenty of beautiful women before, he didn't know how she was managing to affect him like she was. It was... strange.

"Don't be too much longer with her, a'ight?" Xavier instructed the beauty team that was working on Taylor. "We've got to give these two couple of minutes to acquaint themselves before we get busy. A'ight?"

There were quiet "yes, sir"s as the photographer started guiding Harry back out the room, but not before Taylor had the chance to call out, "I left a cupcake in your room for you, Harry."

He thanked her before he was whisked off to his own dressing room, where, in fact, there was a lemon angel cupcake that tasted like it was made by an actual angel left on the table with a little note sitting next to it saying "For Harry ONLY!!" Wow. He didn't know what to say. It was probably best he was then being directed to change into a dressing gown like the one Taylor had been wearing and was descended on by a make-up artist so he didn't have to do any actual talking.

See, most of the girls he had worked with were nice, but not bring-everyone-on-set-a-cupcake nice. Usually he didn't know who they were and he didn't get a chance to really learn, not counting the bit of on-set bonding and the, uh, occasional after-shoot rendezvous. That wasn't something he made a habit of, but some casual hooking up here and there was no big deal. He did work with good-looking girls, after all.

His later call time was indicative of the shorter time it took to get him done up for the shoot. The make-up thing had been a bit weird the first few times he had been sat in a beauty chair, but now he quite liked the attention, to be honest. It was nice being fussed over, having his hair played with styled and his cheekbones looking to die for with some crafty contouring. He'd never really looked at it all as an art form before until he had experienced the transformations these professionals were capable of first-hand. It was actually really cool.

With tussled hair tamed back into a bun, wispy curls artfully hanging loose around his face, Harry was given a pair of dress pants and a loose button-down to put on. He felt more expensive and refined as he was sent down to the room they were shooting in, the soles of his brogues tapping on the hardwood floor.

Harry didn't have to look to know that what he was going to be walking into was a bedroom. It was the obvious choice, but it was one that worked. Surprisingly though, when he walked in, there was only one person in the room, perched on the edge of the violet bedspread.

"Hi," he said dumbly, and she still smiled at him. That damn smile.

"Hey," Taylor welcomed him brightly, a flash of pearly white teeth sent his way. Her manicured hand moved to the space beside her and he walked over to sit at her subtle command, being careful not to mess the neatly made bed before they even started.

"Thank you for the cupcake, that was really nice of you," Harry expressed politely.

"Thank you!" She sounded genuinely cheerful. "I find baked goods put people in a better mood before starting these things."

"I think it works; that was the best cupcake I've had in ages," he complimented honestly and she giggled unfairly sweetly.

"Thank you," she repeated, suddenly sitting up straighter with recollection. "Oh! I've been meaning to tell you, I saw you open the Jeremy Scott show in New York and you looked amazing. I was so glad they let you keep your hair down, it looked awesome."

Harry was noticeably stunned. "You were there?"

"Mhmm!" Taylor nodded enthusiastically. "I don't normally watch men's shows, or any, really, but I was there with my friend who was there for her boyfriend. It was cool to watch, actually. You did really well."

She had watched him? That was unbelievable. He had probably been too nervous over making sure he did a good job of the show that he hadn't even noticed who was in attendance. Wow. All he could think to say was another "Thank you."

"I mean this in, like, the least creepy way possible, but I'm really happy you got this job," she told him. What, was she trying to make him freak out more than he already was?

"Yeah, I, ah, was pretty surprised when I got the news," Harry said, trying to sound more casual that he felt.

"You've got a ton of great things ahead of you, I can tell," Taylor assured him, giggling the slightest in the moment after. "This is weird, isn't it?" she was willing to openly acknowledge. Thank god he wasn't the only one thinking that.

"Yeah, um, it's a bit odd," he agreed. He'd never sat down like this with anyone before a shoot in his entire career. By the sounds of it, it wasn't something she frequented either.

"Xavier's big on connections," Taylor explained; of course she had worked with him before. She had worked with anybody who's anyone. "That's probably why they picked him for this."

"'s always good to be comfortable with the people you're working with," he shrugged a little. Was he comfortable right this minute? Not really.

"Look, I'm gonna be honest with you," Taylor said, shifting her body a little more towards his – way to make him even more anxious. "I don't normally do these kind of shoots. I'm not... I'm not really into the whole super sexy thing, like, it's not really me, y'know? I'm kind of really nervous and I thought I should, um, just let you know that."

Harry stared into her crystal blue eyes and he realised she was telling the truth: she was genuinely scared. Huh. He hadn't even considered that she might not be as confident as she appeared, especially when her career had spanned a lot longer than his. It was... kind of reassuring, actually.

A little silence that didn't help either of them momentarily fell between them, until Harry's lips creeped up in a dimpled smile and he confessed, "I'm shit-scared too." Then they were both laughing.

"Why are you nervous?" she asked.

"Because of you."

"Wait, what?"

Harry was very glad he didn't get a chance to answer that question since Xavier came bursting into the room at that very moment, announcing that their time was up and did they know each other well enough to be comfortable with each other? Yes? Good.

The team flowed in behind him and both Taylor and Harry rose to their feet, ready to be directed. God, she was tall in those strappy heels they put her in. No wonder his shoes had a bit of a chunky sole to them. They were a bit too close in natural height, but that didn't really matter when they weren't going to be spending a whole lot of time standing anyway.

An assistant set the stereo that had been in Taylor's dressing room up in the corner of the bedroom, hooking up someone's iPhone and hitting play on a playlist that, judging by the sensual tone of the first song that started to fill the room, was full of mood music. It was a good way to set the scene, really; it went well with the atmosphere of the dimly lit room and the rich colours that filled the elaborately decorated space. Another assistant had an exclusive bottle of the perfume and was spritzing the air like it was some kind of air freshener. They stopped in front of Taylor, squirted it twice, and she stepped into the mist without having to be asked. Harry had to admit, it did smell quite nice.

"It's all about ambiance, dah-lings," Xavier was saying to no one in particular, waving the impressive camera that had appeared in his hand as he spoke. He was someone who talked with their hands; Harry wondered if he accidentally broke anything often. Xavier took a couple of test shots, thanking the assistant handling the light reader, and then they were away.

Once they had slipped into their characters – greatly thanks to Xavier's ramblings of passionate imaginations of who they were in this scenario – it wasn't so difficult to be comfortably close to each other. Sure, Harry was still kind of internally squealing (in a manly sense... sort of) over being able to caress such a gorgeous woman who was arguably one of the most notable models of the moment, but it wasn't tense. They weren't hesitating with each other, they just, well, clicked. That was exactly what any photographer could hope for.

They were filming parts too, with another director assisting in the layout. Their first take hadn't been the best: Taylor's bracelet got caught in Harry's hair and as funny as it might've been, it had actually hurt when she had tried to move her arm before she realised it was stuck. Surprisingly, there was more laughter throughout the day than he would've expected on such a suggestive shoot. A sign of a good team.

It was pretty tame between them, actually, only gentle lustful touches and bedroom eyes. It was when they were asked out of their first outfits that things got heated.

Sat in the middle of the bed, it should've been really weird to have to take each other's clothes off with a camera filming them. And yeah, it kinda was, but at least it was easy for them to lock onto each other. Far too easy, perhaps.

Taylor was unhurried in undoing the buttons of his shirt. Her fingertips ran lightly down his chest and sent tingles over his bare skin; without thinking he pulled her in closer with his hands on her waist, their lower halves pressing against each other as they were sat up on their knees. She smiled at him slowly and Harry really, really wanted to break the distance and kiss her like he would if this were real. Was it bad he was hoping that he would get to kiss her?

He got to take her dress off. At instruction, Harry raised his hand and carefully dropped the thin strap of her silky slip dress off her delicate shoulder. He did the same on the other side, slowly sliding the dress down her torso and causing his breath to catch in his throat as he revealed what she had on underneath. Ho-ly shit.

So he liked some lingerie. Who didn't? The elaborately laced bodysuit with mesh inserts clinging to Taylor's lean figure had Harry feeling way too many things when he was supposed to be working. There should be some kind of law against one person looking that good, for fucks sake.

"Perfect, that's perfect," Xavier enthused, an understatement at its finest. "Harry, what would you do next?"

Flicking his gaze up from where it lingered awfully on Taylor's chest, Harry's tongue darted over his lips and he gave a small laugh as he looked into her sparkling baby blues. "I don't think I can say."

Taylor glanced towards their attentive audience. "What's to say he would be the one making the next move?"

She had a valid point there, and just as Harry was thinking how fucking hot it would be if she took charge over him, she actually did. It took him completely aback as she turned her head back to him, a cheeky as fuck smirk on her red lips, her hands on his shoulders as she pushed him onto his back and climbed on top of him, kicking her dress off as they got themselves settled. Xavier praised her profusely, Harry quite thankful that his only task was to lie there with one of his hands resting on her thigh and to look up at her in desire as Taylor straddled his waist and flirted with the camera. There was nothing easier he could've been asked.

While that might've been easy, there was something very obviously hard about this. Namely, Harry.

It wasn't the first time he had gotten aroused on a shoot before and it probably wasn't going to be the last. It had been embarrassing the first few times, but he had quickly learnt that it was a natural occurrence in these kind of scenarios and wasn't that big of a deal. Harry was more concerned about making the girls he worked with uncomfortable once they noticed.

If Taylor was uncomfortable now, she sure wasn't showing it. Rather, she looked kind of like she was enjoying it. She gazed back at him as she ran her hands along his bare chest and he could tell that she was aware of what was going on underneath her. It was definitely on purpose when she shifted her hips, when she squished her breasts together as she reached forward. While she might've been nervous about doing a racy shoot, Taylor sure as hell was doing a phenomenal job of being seductive.

Sliding forward with forearms propping her up either side of him, Taylor and Harry's faces became mere centimetres apart. It would take hardly any effort at all to bring their lips together in a perfect kiss, just a little lean from either of them. They both wanted it. Everyone in the entire room could feel the electrifying chemistry between them, could practically see the sparks bouncing off them the longer they spent in each other's touch. No one could've predicted they were going to get on quite that well.

After Harry's pants had found their way onto the floor and the two of them had been blissfully rolling around on the bed in their underwear for a while, the team got a short break. That meant some light snacks for sustenance and bathroom stops for many of them, especially Harry. God, especially Harry.

He took the bathroom at the furthest end of the hall and made sure the door was definitely locked. Having someone walk in on him when he had dropped his tight underwear around his ankles and gotten a hand on himself as he leant against the wall would've been awkward, to say the least. It wasn't his finest moment, furiously jerking himself off over the girl he was fucking working with, but apparently he hadn't gotten it out of his system when he had rubbed one out in the morning. Should've known. Kinda did, kinda hoped he wouldn't be on his own in here when it happened.

A quiet huff of letting go of his held breath as some of the tension was quickly released from his body, Harry made sure not to take much longer in cleaning himself up. He wandered back on set trying to appear as unsuspicious as possible, as if he hadn't just done a questionable deed only minutes ago. He even dared to go talk to Taylor, who had slipped a robe back on and was sipping from a water bottle through a straw on her own.

"Hey," Harry smiled at her easily, her eyes lighting up when they landed on his.

"Hi," Taylor greeted, oddly almost shyly.

"Are you, um, doing okay with all this?"

She laughed lightly. "Yeah, I'm good. Thanks for asking."

"Sorry for, um–"

"It's okay. I actually–"

Taylor didn't get to finish that thought since Xavier waltzed back in with his loud unwavering enthusiasm. They were wrapped up in a new, mostly one-sided conversation that featured plenty of admiration for their work so far, as well as a brief explanation of what else they had left to shoot. They'd be impeccable at it, apparently.

"One might say we're picture-perfect," Harry leaned in to joke once Xavier turned his back on them and went to give someone else some instructions, and it really wasn't that funny at all, but he still got a giggle out of Taylor. An adorable little giggle that had him wanting to scoop her up and take her home with him so he could keep listening to it again and again. Yikes.

They got their winning shot in the second half of their session. When Xavier excitedly showed it to them on the display on his camera, they had to admit, it did look good. Taylor was sat in between Harry's legs, her back pressed against his chest as he leaned back on one of his hands. His other arm was draped lazily over her waist and he was nosing her hair – which smelled so ridiculously good, he might just have to ask what her shampoo of choice was at some point – as she looked into the camera. The lighting was near perfect, the colouring warm and rich. It was going to make a stunning spread.

Even if Harry had helplessly gotten hard again a couple poses ago despite his best efforts. Not that you could tell in that shot, anyway.

"They'd probably sell more if you weren't being hidden right now," Taylor murmured conspiratorially to him, just loud enough for only him to hear. Harry's brows shot up and she grinned as she shifted on the spot to turn her head to look at him a bit better.

"Did you really just say that?" was all he could think to utter back.

Taylor's eyes flickered to his lips for the hundredth time. "Are you surprised?"

The familiar sound of the camera clicking stopped him from admitting yes. The moment passed and it was all back to work again. Work that made their minds race.

So it was understandable that when they finally had a wrap on the shoot, the pair of them had some covert mixed feelings about it. It was fantastic they had had a successful day's work, but what now? Where were they left? Was that it between them, or what? It was kind of bothersome to be thinking those sorts of things when they could usually walk out so unaffected.

Harry changed back into the shirt and jeans he had arrived in, pulling his hair loose from the tie that had been holding it back. He shook it out, secretly smiling to himself in the mirror as he thought that advertising shampoo might be a fitting next step for him as his locks fell in thick waves over his shoulders. It would be a nice fuck you to everyone who had told him to cut it short again if he wanted to keep getting work.

On his kind round of thanks to the team, Harry found Taylor wrapped up in a hug with Xavier. She now had on a cute tea dress with candy pink heels, a charming contradiction to the silky seduction she had been laced in for the last few hours. Harry strode over to them with his refined gait as they broke apart, quickly finding himself in his own hug with the photographer. The models were showered with more praise and a promise that they would adore the final product. Not that they had any doubts about that, anyway.

"Is it okay to have a look around the grounds while we're here?" Taylor politely inquired.

"As long as you don't touch anything," Xavier permitted with a firm but hardly menacing point of his finger. "I trust you won't go breaking anything, Miss Taylor."

"I promise," she nodded truthfully, then looked at Harry beside her. "Do you wanna come? If you don't have to go right away?"

"Sure," Harry accepted far more coolly than he was really feeling. Yes. Yes, yes, yes.

They said their final goodbyes and then began their journey downstairs, where they started to take a look around the grand rooms on the first floor. It was spectacular: both the exquisite taste (and wealth) of the chateau's owner, as well as the way both Harry and Taylor refused to acknowledge the palpable tension still lingering between them. It should've dissipated by now, so why hadn't it?

Aside from general comments about things they saw around them, they didn't say much to each other. Harry had a long list building in his head of things he'd like to tell her; he wondered if Taylor was the same, or if he had lost himself in the illusion of feeling something for each other.

It was when they ventured outside that he discovered he wasn't the only one still immersed in their decadent fantasy.

"I'd love to be able to have a garden like this," Taylor wistfully revealed as they strolled through the nurtured array of flora at the back of the building. "Look at all these roses; don't they just smell amazing? I could sit out here for hours."

Harry smiled at her profile. "It seems very you. Like, very... soft."

"Thank you," Taylor smiled back at him, the slightest hint of a blush on her cheeks. "I'd love to be out here in, like, an extravagant ball gown. Something very Victorian, y'know? This place seems like the perfect setting for a fairy tale."

He agreed with her. He totally did, and that was why he did the unexpected thing that he did next.

Taking her hand and slowly interlacing their fingers, Taylor shot Harry a curious glance. There was a warmth in it, though, a silent grant of permission for him to make such a move. "I might not be a prince, but I would like an invite to this fairy tale ball," he said, the words sounding far too charming in his posh accent. He then raised their joined hands and spun her around on the spot, right on the gravel path that led through the rows of gorgeous blooming roses.

She was either going to think he was fucking weird, or find him utterly enthralling. Thank god she felt the latter.

Taylor laughed as she let him twirl her around a couple times, the skirt of her dress lifting up and flowing out around her sweetly. She looked much more natural now and maybe some would dismiss it and say they preferred when she was toying the sexy look, but not Harry. Harry found her just as striking now as she had been when they were tangled up on that bed.

Neither of them were sure which one of them initiated it. It was both of them, really: when Taylor stopped spinning and stepped into him, her other hand resting on his shoulder, they looked into each other's eyes and it just... happened. They simultaneously leaned in and suddenly they were kissing. After hours of almost just giving in to temptation, they were finally kissing, and holy shit was it better than either of them had predicted.

Harry was young, didn't think much of the firework kiss cliché. He had had plenty of great kisses before, but it was rare that he was like, blown away by one. Maybe it was just the long intense lead up, but kissing Taylor was like a burst of every one of his senses, sending a shockwave through his entire body. They tangled themselves back up right there, arms wrapping around each other and bodies pressed as close as they could get, and they kissed for god knows how long. Time didn't seem like a real concept with their lips finally touching like they were.

"Do you... have any plans?" Harry managed to get out in the short pauses between kisses. Taylor merely hummed a no sound in response. "Would it be... altogether outrageous... to ask... if you wanna hang out?"

Taylor pulled back then, cupped his face with her hands and stared at him so intently he thought he might be permanently stuck to this spot forever. "Yes," she eventually exhaled.

"Yes to hanging out or yes to it being outrageous?"

"Both."

She kissed him again and honestly, they both would've been happy to just stay where they were, but it might've been a tad inappropriate to be making out in the garden of someone they didn't even know. Especially when they had a), just met, and b), had had other ideas floating around in their heads for the last few hours.

So they made hast in heading out for the cars that were waiting for them to take them back to their hotels. Taylor had her driver follow Harry's instead, the trip seeming like it took forever, far longer than it had on the way there. Both of them were itching to get to the hotel, Taylor tapping her nails on her knee impatiently in the back of her car while Harry tried not to get so freaking excited again in the back of his.

This was kind of what he had been hoping for, if he was honest. Had he thought his daydream of sweeping his low-key model crush off her feet was going to come true? Not in a million years. Was he loving it? Oh, fuck yes.

Taylor wandered into the hotel foyer a few minutes after Harry, meeting him by the elevator with a giddy smile. They weren't alone for the journey up to his floor, but had they been he could almost guarantee they would've been doing more than just holding hands.

Out of courtesy, Harry offered her a drink or something when they made it into his hotel room. She politely declined, and there was a moment of hesitation where neither of them were sure what they were doing or where this was going. Then they kissed again and, well, it made a lot more sense.

The bedroom in this suite wasn't nearly as grand as the room they had been in all day, but they weren't really taking in any of that right now. It was solely about them: how they kicked off their shoes and collapsed on the mattress, moulding together with unbelievable ease and comfort. They had been this close for the last few hours, after all.

It was hotter somehow, though. Probably because it was real.

When they took each other's clothes off this time, it wasn't nearly as fluid. It was desperate, hurried, hungry. They kissed each other with that blatant eagerness, neither of them seeming to give a shit that maybe this wasn't something they should be rushing into. Who really cared when this was a genuine thing they both so, so wanted.

It surprised both of them that Taylor was the one to take the next step – though considering what she'd done earlier, perhaps it wasn't all that shocking. Rolling on top of him, she sat up, started backing up towards the end of the bed. "C'mere," she breathed, repeating the command more forcefully when all he did was stare at her in wonder. Harry listened that time, shuffling further down so his legs hung over the edge of the bed as she moved to stand between them. He propped himself up on his elbows and his eyes popped when Taylor kneeled down on the floor and tugged his underwear down.

Watching Taylor's reaction only seemed to turn him on even more. Expectedly, it had taken very little effort on her part to arouse him again. He was completely hard when she pulled the last bit of fabric he had on down, the bulge that had been teasingly pressed up against her for so long finally springing free. Her jaw dropped, her breathing growing that bit heavier as she sized him up. He wished she would say what she was thinking, and he might've asked had she not promptly wrapped her hand around the base of his cock and leaned forward to take as much of him as she could into her mouth.

"Shit," Harry groaned instantly, if for nothing other than the sheer sight of her between his legs.

Harry wished he wasn't so worked up. He wished he had gotten himself off again before he had changed after the shoot so that he wasn't so full of pent up tension that didn't take Taylor long to unravel. She licked and swirled and pumped and moaned and it was so fucking brilliant that Harry was quite frankly embarrassed with how little time it took for him to fill her mouth with his salty emission.

Taylor swallowed and licked her lips when she pulled off him, unfazed. She climbed back onto the bed, propped herself above him and kissed him again, letting him taste himself in her mouth as she slipped her tongue between his lips. It was ridiculously hot, as was when she broke away momentarily to confess, "I wanted to do that when we had our break."

"Shit," Harry repeated in awe, and he was laughing as he kissed her again and admitted, "Shit, I went off by myself there and I could've had you."

"You could've," Taylor confirmed, an unmistakable twinkle in her blue eyes. She paused, a lust-filled silence glowing between them. "You've got me now."

Holy shit, he did. Harry brought their lips back together while his hands moved around her back, unclasping the hook on her bra so he could get it off and finally get his hands on the breasts he had, admittedly, been subtly perving on ever since he had laid eyes on her in that lingerie. Taylor moaned into his mouth, couldn't seem to stop the longer he spent massaging her. He hadn't been the only one dying to be touched, that's for sure.

Harry certainly learnt that when he slid one hand down her body and into her panties. She whimpered, kissed him harder as she finally got some stimulation on the ache between her legs. Unlike him, she hadn't done anything about how stirred she had gotten on set. He had no fucking idea she was that turned on.

"You're soaking," Harry commented incredulously, which wasn't his most eloquent but it had her replying with, "Please just take them off," so he didn't so much mind.

He flipped them over, made quick of pulling her underwear down her long legs and putting his slippery fingers back on her, revelling in how easily they slid up and down her slicked up centre. Harry was generously using all but his thumb on her, covering his hand with her arousal as he quickly got her off, his mouth leaning into her chest and finding one of her nipples to swirl his tongue over, as if she wasn't being stimulated enough. He quickly realised that it wasn't so embarrassing to orgasm earlier than favoured: it was really fucking satisfying for the person making it happen.

"Oh my god," Taylor was panting as she came down from her high, her eyes widening as she watched Harry stick his hand in his mouth to lick his fingers clean.

"D'you like that?" he smirked at her.

"What do you think?" she answered sarcastically, which was actually, like, attractive. He did like a girl with a sense of humour.

They kissed for a while longer, fondling each other freely, until Harry couldn't take just that anymore. He looked at her meaningfully, only hurriedly climbing off her to find some protection when Taylor gave him the go ahead.

She gasped when he easily sunk himself inside her. Harry gave her a moment to adjust to the feeling, and he was greatly pleased to hear her moan at the very first shift of his hips. He knew he was good at this, good in bed, and it never ceased to be rewarding to hear how much the person he was with was enjoying it, enjoying him.

Effortlessly, Harry found a steady rhythm that hit Taylor deep. Their pleasured sounds muffled in their kisses, but they were undeniably there. He even dared to get some words out of her, curious to see if she was that kind of girl.

"D'you know how– ahh– how much I wanted to– take you on that bed?" Harry breathed hot in her ear, sighing heavily when she tangled her fingers in his hair.

"Do you know how much I wanted you to?" Taylor countered, draping one of her legs around his waist as if to bring them closer. "God, Harry. You're..."

"I'm what?"

"You're so..."

Taylor didn't find an end to her thought, but she didn't really need to, not when she finished it with a long moan that said exactly what she meant anyway.

Their lips found each other's again and Harry quickened his pace, only drawing to a halt when he felt himself getting close. Taylor mumbled a little incomprehensively in confusion, though she was rapidly distracted by Harry beginning to kiss her neck. She loved it, could've happily stayed just as they were for a long while, especially when he felt up her chest again with one of his hands. She surely didn't find fault with Harry wanting to make things last; who knew if this would ever happen again.

Harry soon picked up where he left off, drawing long thrusts that made sure she was aware of every inch of him inside her. Their breathing was laboured, moans loudening exhales. The sheer sound of it was intense, and when you factored in their desperate touches and heated bodies pressing flush it was, wow.

"You feel incredible, Taylor," Harry had to tell her, ensuring that she knew just how ecstatic he was feeling. She pulled him into a thank you kiss, one that said I feel the same about you. God, he could do this forever.

Except that he couldn't. The tension was building in his lower half and he didn't really want to hold it off again. He wanted to let go with her.

"Are you close?" he asked quickly. "I'm so– ahhhh, fuck– I want you to come with me, deep inside you, baby." Harry ground his hips against her roughly and Taylor groaned, her toes curling. He didn't realise she wasn't used to this.

A short string of encouragements left his mouth and a few hard thrusts and filthy grinds had Taylor tightening around him, her hand tugging at his hair firmly and a fucking gorgeous moan leaving her lips as she climaxed. Harry was coming hard seconds later, shaking as a rush of pleasure rippled through him. Holy shit, was that– god.

Harry managed to climb off her a few moments later, tying off the condom and wrapping it up in a tissue on the nightstand. The two of them laid side by side, the only sound in the room the quiet huffs of them trying to regulate their breathing. He didn't know about Taylor, but Harry's mind was completely blown. To think that he had just hooked up with the girl he had always thought was drop dead gorgeous and totally unattainable was unbelievable. He might just think he was dreaming if it weren't for the fact that a dream could never leave him feeling this alive.

Taylor caught his attention again when she randomly began to laugh at herself. Harry turned his head towards her and she shook her own, her cheeks pink and her eyes iridescent when she met his gaze. "I never do this," she revealed. "I never do this with people I work with."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

She looked thrilled with her spontaneity.

Rolling onto his side, Harry grinned at her, his hand resting on her toned stomach. His fingers traced tenderly over her abs; she really was fit.

"Can I tell you something?" he asked her gently, and of course she was going to nod back at him. The timing may have been a little odd, but while he had the chance Harry explained to her how he had gotten his start in the industry, how her picture had been right there when he had been scouted and how he had thought about her ever since. Taylor's expression was soft, wondrous as she learnt that there had been more behind his attraction to her today. It was completely unexpected to her; she didn't quite know what to say.

"That probably sounded weird, I'm sorry," Harry tried to shrug it off as nothing when Taylor didn't respond with words, wondering what the hell had possessed him to tell her that now.

"No," she quickly reassured him. "No, that's actually... I hadn't ever thought of something like that before. It's kind of like... fate." Taylor blushed deeply at her own words, sweetly scrunching her face up in embarrassment. "Now that sounded weird."

Harry didn't think so. He chuckled, leaning in and kissing her on the cheek. "It's definitely fate," he decided playfully, getting a giggle out of her before going for a proper kiss, one that was soft and excited. "Would you like to go to dinner with me?" he asked graciously, hopeful as he pulled back.

"I'd love to," Taylor sighed up at him, elated.

"Would you like to come back here for dessert?" Harry added optimistically, slowly running his hand up her torso and cupping her breast gently, thumb lightly stroking over her pale flesh. Thank god she grinned at him.

"I have a couple of conditions."

"My answer's already yes to all of them."

Taylor laughed. "Can I have your number?"

"Of course."

"Will you actually call me?"

"I'll call you so much you'll be considering blocking me."

Her eyes crinkled shut as she giggled at the thought, one of the cutest things he had ever laid eyes on.

"Can we get some actual dessert? Like some cake or something?"

"We can get whatever you like."

"In that case, I'd love to come back here with you," Taylor beamed at him, leaning in for another kiss. Her tongue teasingly ran over his bottom lip and if what they had just done wasn't an indication of a fun night ahead, that sure was.

"Where are you off to after this?" Harry asked her curiously. "Where are you flying?"

"Back to New York."

"Me too," he told her, letting the idea hang between them for a moment. "Maybe we could keep seeing each other? If you'd want?"

Taylor answered that with a long kiss, tongues slipping between parted lips and twisting in each other's mouths. Harry squeezed her breast and wondered still how this was a real thing that was happening to him. He might've been lucky, but he wasn't normally this lucky.

"You know..." Taylor breathed out when they briefly broke apart. "I think 'Decadence' is my new favourite perfume."

They grinned at each other, giggling. It was ridiculous – this entire thing was surely insane – but maybe the idea of a scent helping you find romance wasn't so absurd after all. Maybe there was an element of truth in amongst the fabricated fantasy.

Whatever the case, Harry and Taylor were going to enjoy finding out.