The soft gentle sounds of the quartet played in the background as the guests mingled together in the ballroom as the well-to-do upper-class guests sipped their champagne and nibbled on the edible delicacies offered to them.  The women huddled in small groups together, the men stood further on the outer, most with cigars in their mouths and a glass of cognac in their hands.

He surveyed them from the railing above, taking in each and every guest, in particular, the beautiful ladies.

He recognised the majority of the guests as his eyes roamed, before stopping short on the back of someone unfamiliar. 

Dark chocolate hair piled high on the top of her head which showed off her slender, delicate neck as soft tendrils kissed the single strand of pearls that adorned her neck. 

He found himself quite intrigued by her, wanting to know who she was and how she came to be here.

She suddenly turned to the side and he was given a much better view of her. 

Her petite body was dressed in a pale pink silk gown that showed off the small swell of her breasts.  She was engaged in animated conversation with another gentleman and lady.

He watched intently for a few more moments as the gentleman turned his attention to the other female companion. 

The woman in the pale pink dress seemed to suddenly feel a presence, as though someone was watching her, and she shivered.

She turned slowly and her gaze was drawn upwards to the balcony.

Her eyes widened as she saw him.

His dark head of curls framed his pale face, his mouth was set in a thin line and his eyes were dark, green in colour and intense.  His suit was black with a print embedded in the material, a silk red shirt a stark contrast with a matching long bow tie, strands falling from the edges of his sleeve that hung over his hands that rested on the balcony railing.

His gaze did not leave her as he straightened himself up and walked towards the stairs. 

His eyes never left hers as he descended the staircase and once he'd reached the bottom, he walked behind the crowd, seemingly disappearing from her gaze.

Rosalie let out a breath, not realising she was holding it in. 

She was vaguely aware of being spoken to, but the voice seemed distant. 

She turned to find her childhood friend, Alan, speaking to her.

"Forgive me Alan, I missed your question?" Rosalie apologised.

He smiled at her fondly.

"Lucy was just suggesting we could perhaps picnic for lunch tomorrow," he repeated his question.

"My yes, that sounds lovely," Rosalie replied looking at Alan, noticing the smile faltering on his face, his eyes looking over her shoulder at something.

No.

Someone.

Rosalie turned around and found the same gentleman she'd seen on the balcony now standing before her, offering her his outstretched hand.

"Would you be mine?" he spoke in a low, almost hypnotic tone.

Unable to ignore the request, Rosalie felt inexplicably drawn to him. 

She delicately placed her hand into the palm of his. 

"Rosalie..." Alan began.

The piano began to play a lone tune as the gentleman led Rosalie to the middle of the room.  

With Rosalie's hand in his, he drew her other up onto his shoulder before placing his hand on her waist, guiding her around the dancefloor, the two of them gliding effortlessly together. 

Rosalie looked up at him and felt her breath catch in her throat. 

She was met with such intensity from his gaze she felt herself begin to blush.

"May...may I know your name Sir?" Rosalie finally found her voice to speak.

"Please excuse me my dear," he began, "it was remiss of me to not to introduce myself.  I am Sir Harry Styles," he bowed his head to her.

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance," Rosalie replied, a shy smile playing on her lips, "I am Rosalie.  Miss. Rosalie Talbot."

"Miss. Talbot, the pleasure is indeed all mine," Harry replied.

Rosalie felt his voice rumble in his chest and it made her heart flutter.  She could not deny that Sir Harry was indeed a handsome man, a very handsome man and when he looked at her, she felt as though he was staring right into her soul.

"Miss. Talbot," Harry said, "may I say how simply beautiful you look tonight?"

Rosalie blushed again.

"That's very kind of you to say Mr. Styles;" she replied, bowing her head.

"Please," he interrupted, "call me Harry."

"Uh...H-Harry," Rosalie stammered, "there are so many more beautiful and elegant ladies here..."

"Perhaps," Harry said, "but none of them shines as bright or looks as heavenly as you do."

Rosalie turned away, hardly believing what Harry was saying. 

She chose to focus on the other guests as Sir Harry slowly whirled her around the dancefloor and her eyes caught Alan's and she noticed he seemed worried.  She smiled at him and he returned it immediately though it didn't quite reach his eyes.

Rosalie let herself be drawn into the melody that played and the strong but protective grip that Harry held her in.

"Miss. Talbot," Harry interrupted her thoughts, "I wonder if I might be so bold as to ask something of you?"

Rosalie's heart skipped a beat as she willed herself to look up at him.

"Yes," she whispered.

"Would you care to indulge me and perhaps join me for afternoon tea tomorrow?" he asked. 

Rosalie bit her lip. 

She had already agreed to a picnic tomorrow, but she did not want to decline Harry's invitation and she also did not want to cancel her previous engagement. 

Perhaps she could do both? 

Yes, then no one would be hurt or offended.

"I would be delighted to join you tomorrow Mr...uh...Harry," she smiled in agreeance, "I would be most pleased to accept your kind invitation."

"Splendid!" Harry replied, a smile stretching across his lips.

Rosalie couldn't help but be drawn to his lips and the smile that played upon them. 

They were such a lovely shade of pink...and so perfect...

She wondered for a moment how they might feel against hers but then she scolded herself internally for having such thoughts and looked away. 

Harry continued to dance around the floor with Rosalie, not wanting to let her go.  He let his gaze wander to Alan's and he found him staring at him and not with kindness.  It was harsh and angry and it made Harry smirk at him in return. 

Rosalie was his now.

Now and forever.

Rosalie suddenly felt slightly tired and did her best to stifle a yawn; however it did not go unnoticed by Harry.

"Miss. Talbot, am I tiring you out?" he said, concern etched over his face, "forgive me, do you wish to sit?"

He stopped and held both her hands in his; she looked up at him to see concern in his eyes.

"Actually, I am rather tired, though I do not wish to leave," Rosalie said.

"I do not wish to tire you before our outing tomorrow Miss. Talbot," Harry said, "I have a carriage outside, please allow me to escort you home safely?"

"I do not wish to trouble you Harry," Rosalie said, "I did arrive here with my dear friend Alan and I am sure he will want to see me home again."

"My dear Rosalie," Harry said smoothly, "do you really wish to take him away from this little soiree that he is so clearly enjoying?"

Rosalie turned to see Alan talking to another lady before catching his eye and he smiled at her.

"I suppose you might be right," she said turning back to Harry, "but I do not wish to trouble you," she implored, "and I am staying some distance away..."

"It is really no trouble on my part," he said, placing a finger lightly to her lips, "and I would rest so much easier knowing you had arrived safely to your abode."

He removed his finger from her lips. 

To Rosalie, they felt like they were on fire just from his barely there touch.

"'I...I...need to fetch my cloak," she said.

"And I my coat," Harry agreed, "I shall fetch yours for you as well my dear."

He kissed the back of her hand and headed for the cloak room to fetch their coats whilst Rosalie turned and walked over to Lucy.

"You seemed to enjoy that dance with Sir Styles?" Lucy asked, "he does look quite dashing."

"He has offered to see me home Lucy, I was coming to inform Alan, where is he?" Rosalie asked.

"I'm not sure, but I can certainly tell him for you," Lucy offered.

Rosalie was suddenly aware of a presence next to her, and looked to find Harry standing next to her, her cloak held out at the ready for her to put on.

Slipping into it, she buttoned it up.

Harry held his arm out for Rosalie to take and after linking her arm in his, Harry tipped his hat in a gesture of farewell.

"Good evening Miss. Lucy," he said.

"I shall see you tomorrow dear Lucy," Rosalie said, touching her friend on the hand and leaning in to kiss the side of her face.

"I look forward to it Rosalie," Lucy replied excitedly.

Harry guided Rosalie out of the small mansion and towards a waiting carriage.

"Rosalie!  Rosalie!  Stop!  Wait!" a voice yelled.

Rosalie had a foot on the carriage step as she turned around to see who was calling her; Harry however had blocked her view.

Harry's eyes narrowed.

It was that damn Alan, Rosalie's friend. 

He was going to spoil everything.

"Rosalie!  Where are you going?" Alan stopped running once he'd caught them and tried to catch his breath from running.

"I'm going home Alan," Rosalie replied, "Mr. Styles, I mean Harry, has graciously offered to escort me."

Alan took a step closer until he was almost chest to chest with Harry.

"Rosalie, I escorted you here and I would really prefer to ensure you arrive home safely again," Alan said, looking over Harry's shoulder at Rosalie, "I would feel much more relieved to know you arrived home safely and I can only do that if I see you there myself."

"I can assure you Dr. McMichael," Harry cut in, "Miss. Talbot will be safely escorted home to her abode."

He turned to Rosalie, gesturing for her to continue the steps into the carriage.

"Rosalie!"  Alan started forward before Harry turned to him, blocking the entrance to the carriage, his eyes hard, "in your own best interest, proceed with caution!"

Rosalie frowned in confusion.

"Oh Alan, I shall be fine, I am certain, is that not correct Harry?" she asked.

"Precisely Miss. Talbot," Harry replied cheerfully to her, "make yourself comfortable my dear."

He turned and stepped back down so he was in Alan's face.

"And you, Dr. McMichael, can make yourself scarce," Harry said, his voice menacing, "Miss. Talbot will be well tended to, I can assure you."

"But..." Alan began.

"She is mine!" Harry hissed through his teeth, taking a threatening step towards Alan. 

Alan thought that Harry's eyes suddenly appeared to look completely black.

Must be an illusion of the moonlight, he thought to himself.

"Mr. Styles..." Alan said.

"Leave now," Harry threatened, "I won't tell you again.  Rosalie is mine, and mine alone," he looked Alan up and down, "if you value your own life good Sir, I suggest you heed my warning."

And with that, he stepped up into the carriage, closing the door firmly behind him.

The horses immediately began to move, pulling the carriage away.

Alan watched the retreating carriage leave him alone on the path, dust swirling up around him, his stomach filling with dread. 

He feared for his dear friend he had loved since childhood.

Loved more than life itself.

"Rosalie..." he whispered.

~~~~~~

Rosalie swayed slightly as the carriage made its way along the road. 

Sitting with Harry in such close proximity made her suddenly overwhelmed and he now seemed so much older and mysterious as he sat across from her. 

It was warm inside the carriage, so she removed her cloak and sat it on the seat next to her before she finally found the courage to look up at him, only to find him already looking at her.

"Do I make you nervous Miss. Talbot?" he asked softly.

"I..uh...no..." she blushed, "perhaps a little."

She looked down again at her hands. 

"I do not wish to make you uncomfortable Miss. Talbot," Harry began, "but I must admit I do indeed find you most captivating."

She looked up at him in shock.

"What?" she was astounded.

He smiled kindly at her.

"When I first saw you tonight, I was very much entranced by you," he admitted, "I'm sorry if you think me too forward Miss. Talbot, I apologise," he bowed his head.

"No please, Harry," she leaned forward and tentatively placed her hand on top of his, "it's just...no man has ever said...anything like that to me before..." she whispered.

"Clearly they were ignorant, or perhaps, just in awe," he replied.

She smiled, embarrassed at such a compliment.

"Tell me Miss. Talbot," Harry said.

"Rosalie, please," she interrupted, "if you insist on me calling you Harry," she smiled.

"Rosalie," Harry chuckled, "where did you get such a lovely necklace?" he asked.

Rosalie automatically touched the pearl necklace she wore around her neck.

"It was my grandmothers," she said, "it's the most beautiful thing isn't it?"

"Not as beautiful as you," he said, causing Rosalie to blush again.

"May I see?" he asked.

She nodded slowly.

Harry moved to kneel in front of her, his fingers reaching to gently run them over the pearls.  As his fingers touched her skin, Rosalie's breath caught in her throat.  She had never had a man be this intimate with her, and she suddenly felt shameful at not wanting him to stop.

Up close, he was even more beautiful to look at.

Her breathing became faster as she watched his eyes leave hers and focus on her mouth before lowering to where his fingers were.  His gaze flickered back up to hers and she felt his fingers start to trail down slowly towards her cleavage, her breasts now heaving with her increased breathing.

Rosalie noticed that Harry's eyes seemed to almost look...black.

He sprang forward quickly, his mouth on hers, insistent and forceful. 

Rosalie was momentarily dumbfounded before she finally regained her senses and placed her hands on his chest, trying to push him away.

"No!  Stop!" she cried, causing Harry to pull back slightly.

His hands were on her hips, his breath hot on her skin.

"Are you sure Rosalie?" he whispered, "I desire you so much, the want I have for you is so great.  Do you not feel it?" he asked.

Rosalie swallowed.

She did feel it, and it scared her. 

Greatly.

Harry took her hesitation as an invitation and his mouth found hers again.

"Let me love you Rosalie," he whispered against her mouth, "be mine."

Rosalie moaned into the kiss as she felt Harry's hands run up to cup her breasts, squeezing them, feeling their fullness under his touch.

She gasped, it felt so wrong, letting a man who was not her husband to touch her like this, but she didn't want him to stop, though she knew she should.

Harry moved his mouth to her neck, she smelled divine, and tasted equally so.  Rosalie allowed her head to fall back as he assaulted her neck, his hands travelling down to push her skirt up.

"Let me taste you Rosalie," he whispered into her ear, "I want to taste your sweet nectar darling as you climax."

Rosalie's eyes widened.

"No...no I can't...I mustn't Harry!" she cried out, "I need to be...pure...for when I marry..."

"You'll marry no one," Harry growled, "you are mine now..."

Her hands found his forearms and as his mouth trailed down to the swell of her breasts. 

His mouth felt so good against her skin and she knew she should stop him...but she didn't want to.

She stood upon the precipice, teetering on what was right and what was wrong.

But how can something so wrong feel so right?

His forehead made its way down her torso as her skirt was pushed up around her waist and he tore at the cotton underwear before pushing her legs apart.

"Harry!" Rosalie gasped, shocked at being so exposed, but the moment his tongue tasted her she forgot why she was protesting. 

Never had she experienced anything like this. 

His tongue in such a forbidden place...but it felt so exquisite. 

She tried to find purchase as his mouth licked and sucked at her, finally finding the hidden little bud, teasing it until it was swollen as one of Rosalie's hands found Harry's curls and she gripped them as her hips began to move of their own accord. 

As her body responded to Harry's mouth, her mind was fighting its own inner battle.

Stop...

Don't stop...

So wrong...

Feels so...

Rosalie suddenly felt a strange sensation in her stomach. 

Her muscles clenched, and her breathing was erratic.

What was wrong with her?

"Harry...I..." she was almost fearful of the unfamiliar sensation.

"Let go Rosalie," Harry urged her, "give in to it...succumb..."

Rosalie suddenly felt the most intense, pleasurable sensation release and wash through her as her body spasmed and she cried out as it shook her to the core.

She looked down at Harry, his tongue still on her but his gaze locked firmly on her face before he rose to kiss her; she could taste herself on his lips and in her mouth as his tongue sort entrance.

"Love..." he cooed, "you tasted sweeter than I thought possible," he said as he licked his lips, "did you enjoy me pleasuring you so?"

Shamefully she nodded.

"Let me show you how much better it can be," he said.

"Better?" she whispered.

His hands moved to his pants and he quickly undid the front, releasing his member that was already rock hard.

She looked down, horrified at it, liquid seeping out of the top.

"Harry...no..." she began to pull away.

"Trust me," he cooed, grabbing her by the back of the neck, focusing her attention on his face, "let me take you to heaven Rosalie.  Let me show you how wonderful it can be..."

Her head slowly shook from side to side as she felt something touch her intimate parts again.

Something bigger.

Harry entered her, causing Rosalie to scream from the sudden intrusion she had never felt before and there was a searing pain as he began to move but within moments the pain eased somewhat and then what she felt was unexplainable. 

Her legs wrapped themselves around Harry's waist as he settled into a rhythm of thrusting into her.  Rosalie clung to him as the same familiar feeling she'd just experienced began to move through her body again. 

Harry bent his head to place his mouth over her breast and though her dress covered it, she could still feel the wetness from his mouth and she gripped his hair in her fists.

"Oh...oh...oh..." she moaned with each thrust from Harry.

Their foreheads touched, and Harry looked into Rosalie's eyes. 

She felt like he was looking straight into her soul.

"Harry..." she panted, overwhelmed with such sensations, "make me yours."

With an inhuman growl he thrust into her, bringing her orgasm on, her climax clenching around him causing him to come too, roaring with his own release as he spilled inside her.

His mouth found hers as his thrusts slowed down and finally stopped.

They felt the carriage make a sharp turn and begin to slow down. 

Harry grinned evilly at her, pulling out from between her legs and returning to his seat across from her, admiring both Rosalie and what he had left behind.

She looked out the window to see a massive old manor.

This was not her home.

"Harry, where are we?" she asked.

"Harlington Manor, my home," he replied, "your home."

"My home?  But..." she said, before suddenly stopping mid-sentence.

Harry had a hard, cold look on his face, his eyes pitch black, his so voice low that it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

"You are mine now," he said.

Rosalie began to shake her head in disagreement.

"You belong to me now!" he raised his voice.

Rosalie shrunk back into the carriage seat.

"You are mine...and mine alone," Harry whispered, "forever."