Prisoner of My Own Body

*Being Edited
16 year-old Sophie's in for more than she expected when she meets One Direction. The boys, Harry especially, take a liking to her body and feisty attitude immediately, and kidnap her to be their own little toy. But then they tell her her mom sold her to them? She's in constant confusion, blindly trying to foresee what will happen to her next as the boys are bi-polar most of the time. The worst part is that Sophie is starting to develop feelings for her kidnappers, and some of them also start developing feelings for her.....


24. Mixed Emotions

It was quarter to midnight when I stepped outside my room, and headed downstairs. I’m shocked when I fall upon a mass of blonde hair sitting on the couch.

“Niall?!? What are you doing here at this time of the night?” I whisper towards his figure in the living room.

It’s storming outside and I couldn’t lull my eyes to sleep, frightened by the terrible sounds of nature. 

Pulling my hair into a bun, I head over to him, the chilliness of the floor on my bare feet making shivers rise on my skin.

“I could ask you the same question,” the Irish boy responds, lifting his blue eyes to mine for a brief second, before turning them back to a random magazine he had in his hands.

“Couldn’t sleep,” I mutter, sitting with him on the couch.

“Same here,” he says, inching his body closer to mine. The heat of his body is so welcoming I can’t resist cuddling with him. I suddenly feel very self-conscious, knowing my lacy camisole and sweat pants don’t leave much to the imagination, especially considering I have no underwear. I reluctantly pull myself a little farther away from him.

Niall’s body turns to face mine, and he cocks his head to the side curiously.

 “Have something to propose to pass time? We still have a couple hours before the other lads wake up,” Niall states, placing the magazine down on the table. I think for a couple seconds.

“As a matter of fact, I do,” I say with a scheming smile on my face. Then I tackle him playfully on the couch.

“Oomph!” He falls on his back, taken by surprise as I straddle him proudly. His surprised state doesn’t last long. I catch the look of challenge briefly clouding his eyes a second too late; he switches us around, his body hovering over mine, Niall starts tickling me to tears.

“Enough, enough!” I beg after several minutes, but the Irish boy doesn’t relent his torture. “You’re my friend so stop tickling me!” His hands immediately stop touching me, but he stays there, straddling my waist.

“But it’s fun to see you squirming in delight under me!” he taunts.

“You do know that what you just said had a double sense right?” I say seriously, quirking an eyebrow.

He nods with a smirk plastered on his face and I roll my eyes.

“But now what are we gonna do?” The Irish boy bursts out suddenly, his smile fading slowly.

Suddenly, I catch sight of a cooking magazine.

“I know”, I say standing up slowly, after stretching myself a little bit. I grab the cooking magazine from the table and look at its cover. “How about this?” I suggest, showing him the cover of the magazine with the triple fudge chocolate cake.

“Yes!” Niall cheers, kissing my cheek. Heat rises on my skin where he touched me.

Still clasping the magazine, I take the lead to the kitchen.

Putting the magazine on the side of the table, I begin searching through cupboards. I find an Irish apron and a green chef hat. I put them on, and take a large bowl from under the counter. “So, where do we start?” I ask Niall as he eyes me up and down with a smile.

“I guess we should start with the butter?” Niall says, walking to the fridge. He takes two pounds of butter, drops them on the counter.

“That’s way too much! What are we going to do? Bake a cake for an orphanage?” I joke, eying the huge mass of butter.

“But I want that much butter!” Niall states smirking.

“We’ll then, if were to have more butter, we have to get rid of those other ingredients,” I say casually, inching slowly towards the bag of flour.

“Need to get rid of other ingre-…?” Niall stops short in his sentence as I grab the bag of flour and raise one eyebrow at him.

“No, love. Please Soph. You’re not going to… Are you…? NO!” Before Niall can do anything, I grab a handful of flour and I throw it at him, giving him a powdery white face “You…” He says totally surprised, his nose and mouth completely covered. “This is war!” Niall yells at me before taking the other bag of flour, tosses my chef hat aside and completely empties it on the top of my head. “Oops”, he grins mischievously, backing up.

“Look what you did to my hair!” I groan loudly, showing him the wisps of white powder. His face clearly says: you asked for it.

I grab eggs from the fridge.

“Payback time,” I say before jumping on him and cracking two on the top of his blond hair. The sticky stuff is everywhere, dripping in his face. He reacts quickly, hurdling the carton of milk in my face. Thank God for my apron.
      Our banter continues and we completely wreck the kitchen, not caring about anything at all.

“We’re going to have to clean up before the boys wake,” Niall breathes out once we’re out of ammunition, still chuckling. He approaches me. “You got flour on your lips,” Niall says, eyes focused on my lips. I bring my hand up to wipe it off but he stops me. “Let me help you with that,” he says before kissing it off. I kiss back, deepening the kiss and bringing him closer to me.

Niall grips my hips and lifts me on the countertop, putting himself in between my thighs without breaking the kiss. His hands explore my clothed body, and slip in my sweat pants. He groans loudly on my lips and bucks his hips a little when he realizes I’m not wearing any underwear. His probing fingers ghost along my clit, teasing me.

“Niall we’ve gotta clean up,” I shake my head, getting his hand out of my sweats.

“What’s happening here?” A husky voice interrupts. Niall hides his hands behind his back. My head whips to the sound source, to see a very tired-looking Harry leaning in the kitchen’s doorframe, with his arms crossed. He quirks an eyebrow at us.

“Just a little cooking,” I say, looking back at Niall.

“Sure it is," Harry responds knowingly. “I bet that’s why the kitchen is a right mess?”

“Imma clean it up,” Niall exhales, rubbing the back of his neck.

“And while you do that, I’m going to clean Sophie upstairs,” Harry nods. My eyes meet Niall’s for a brief second before Harry’s pulling me away. Hmm... I smell jealousy.

The British boy pulls me upstairs quickly but quietly and pushes me into a bathroom, locking it behind him.

“Why bother locking the door if apparently everybody has the key to every lock?” I ask, right before being roughly silenced by Harry’s lips on mine. I don’t respond to the kiss, feeling something wrong about his behaviour. He urges his weight against mine, making me backup and press flat on the door. I push him away. “Harry! What’s wrong?”

“Stop using that beautiful voice of yours... It might just spare us some time,” he groans. His lust glazed eyes meet mine for mere seconds, before he latches his lips back onto mine. Harry complimenting my voice? Not my body? Okay, something’s definitely wrong here.

“Harry! Stop!” I beg between his feverous kisses.

“No,” he retorts, hands aiming for my breasts. With newfound strength, I push him away.

“What’s wrong with you?!?” I exclaim. Wow Soph. Since when do you care about his sanity so much?

He goes to kiss me again but I shove him away once more. “Harry Edward Styles!” I shout. “What’s wrong?!? Tell me, and then maybe I can try to fix it!” There it goes again Soph... You’re playing the caring card.

 “You don’t have the right to tell me what to do!” he retorts, grabbing my wrists and hauling them over my head with ease. “I’m the one in charge!” Holding them in one hand, the other takes charge of taking off my shirt and camisole, lightly dusting off the leftovers of Niall’s and I’s food fight. Left topless, Harry palms my breasts one at a time, his thumb sliding slowly over each nipple.

“You’re beautiful... You know that right?” he mumbles, nuzzling his head into my neck. His grip tightens around my wrists when I’m not moaning like I normally would.

“Harry! You’re hurting me!” I complain.


I struggle in his grasp, feeling his fingers digging too harshly in my skin. Harder than the usual. Not good.

“You’re acting out on anger?!?” I realise. If it would’ve been out of jealousy, the situation wouldn’t have been the same. “Hazza... What happened? Who hurt you?”

The curly-haired boy lessens his actions but doesn’t reply, kissing everywhere his lips can attach to.

“Who hurt you Harry?” I repeat slowly.

Harry looks deep into my eyes.

“A girl hurt you right?” I say quietly.

“Yes. She was my girlfriend before she dumped me for another guy and threw my heart into flames. And you put gas on the fire when I found you and Niall pleasing yourselves so openly on the counter. Now, because of that little act, I decided that you’ll play the girlfriend that broke my heart, and I’ll be the angry boyfriend,” he finishes heatedly. His actions are fueled by anger and betrayal as he rapidly rids me of my sweatpants and throws me into the shower, quickly undressing himself and entering the shower as well.

Harry makes the water run, turns the temperature to hot and glues his body against mine, his mouth latching on mine again. Noticing I refuse to respond to his urging kisses, he decides to bring it up a notch and thrusts two fingers inside me. I can’t help it. I groan loudly, and he smirks, adding another finger inside my wet body.

His fingers start on a rapid and harsh pace, leaving me no time to adjust to his harshness. Harry digs his wet curls into my neck and bites the sensitive skin, once again marking me as his. I watch as water drips down our bodies, fascinated by the beauty of it all.

Harry retrieves his fingers, grabs his cock, strokes it a couple of times and shoves it furiously inside me, thrusting in and out without letting me any time to adjust. I don’t think I’m Sophie anymore to him. I’m that girl who dumped him.

“Ouch Harry!” I complain, lightly pushing against his shoulders to try gaining some kind of control over his harsh actions.

“Take it! You deserve it! You dumped me.” he growls back, ramming deeply inside me. I grab his face, forcing him to look into my eyes.

“Harry, it’s me. Sophie. I’m not her,” I try, thumbs sliding across his cheekbones. He slowly stops thrusting and I see tears of frustration mixing with the shower water. “I’m sorry,” I say. But he takes it as I’m still his ex-girlfriend.

“Oh you will be!” Brusquely, he restarts his actions and my lower regions are once again twisted in pain.

“Harry open your eyes. It’s me,” I repeat, forcing him to gaze into my eyes.

His pace slows down a little, losing stamina. A little pleasure makes way inside me.

I moan softly and he kisses my nose tenderly, before joining his lips with mine. Knowing he isn’t angry anymore, I respond to the kiss with immense satisfaction of having normal Harry back, and not the anger-driven one.

“I like you a lot Sophie you know that?” he mumbles suddenly, hiding in my neck.

His thrusts suddenly get passionate and more caring. “I’m gonna make you feel sooo good.”

Moans pour out as Harry rapidly hits my sweet spot. Groping my breasts lightly, Harry gives a few other thrusts and empties himself inside me with a loud groan as I also tip over the edge and orgasm.

Without saying anything, Harry pulls out, grabs the body wash and very softly, starts scrubbing off what is left of my food fight with Niall. Well Harry... Aren’t you just full of surprises?

Here. All clean,” Harry says after a couple minutes of rubbing my body.

“Thanks I guess,” I mutter. “And about that girl―”

“I don’t wanna talk about it. It’s over,” he cuts me off harshly.

“Fine then. Your wish, my command.”

Taking me completely off guard, Harry hugs me tightly, our naked chests pressed against one another. “Thank you,” he mumbles in my neck. Wow. Harry thanking me? Who is this guy and what has he done with Harry Styles?

“You’re thanking me for what exactly?” I ask, a little bemused by his soft side.

“For reacting like you just did. Most girls would’ve kept annoying me on the subject.”

“I hope you do realize I’m not like most girls right?” I smirk, pulling away to gaze into his green orbs. Stupid Soph. Most girls actually say that.

“You definitely aren’t,” he chuckles, rubbing his nose against mine in an affectionate manner. “And I like that a lot.”

Feeling his cock growing back to life against my thigh, I rapidly pull away, not really wanting a replay of his previous attitude that is to lusty for my taste.

“And why is that? Why do you like me so much? You could’ve taken any other girl and claimed her as yours since you’re famous... Most of them are prettier anyways,” I say, keeping a safe distance between me and his now aroused body.

“First off, I really do like a good challenge. And if there was something your mom told us about before we gave her the VIP tickets, it was your rebellious attitude,” he responds, water dripping down his chiseled chest.

My gaze lingers longer than necessary on his wet chest, before I snap out of it as Harry talks again.

“And then we realized that you didn’t necessarily lead a good life with an alcoholic mother, no siblings, two friends and no father. Where did you say he went already?” He asks, eyes soft with compassion.

“I don’t wanna talk about him. He left me alone with unfulfilled promises, that’s all I can tell you,” I tell him, looking away, mood dropping at his mention.

 “And last, there’s the obvious fact that you’re gorgeously beautiful,” he continues lifting my face up to his, his eyes getting darker with lust by the second as he eyes me up and down.

“But there are pr―”

“Yes. There are prettier girls out there, but we wanted you. You with your feisty little attitude and cheeky remarks. You with all your imperfections,” he sighs. “Even if I had a girlfriend at that time, I wanted to possess you. I cheated on her, with you,” he says huskily, flinching a bit at the mention of his now ex-girlfriend. I feel uneasy about his remark.

The water feels excessively hot on my skin as he tosses some wet strands of hair out of my face. Before I can stop myself, I find my fingers gliding entrancingly on his defined chest and abs.

“Enough with the small talk, and on with the dirty,” he groans suddenly, latching his lips with mine passionately. He spins us around so my back is against the shower wall, his hands groping my ass to keep me up. “You have no idea how I want your tight walls pulsating around my manhood right now,” he growls, nipping my neck playfully.

“I’ve just had a really rough go a few minutes ago,” I complain, feeling his hardness press against my thigh. “Can I get a break please?” I ask, panting soft as he suckled one of my nipples.

“But I want you now! I’m horny now!” he retorts, fondling with the other breast.

“You’re always horny Harry...” a moan escapes my lips. “Why don’t you go ask Louis to jack you off? I’m sure he would.” I gasp as he lets go of me altogether, making me slip on the wet surface from the loss of grasp. I try slowing down my fall, and end up falling on my sore bottom with a yelp.

Scared, I look up at his eyes clouded with irritation. Oh great job Soph. You’ve made him angry.

“If you are that keen on me and Louis together, you might enjoy what I have in store for you tonight!” he storms, fists clenched in fury.

“Won’t I ever get to sleep alone?!?” I scream, also fuming.

“Not in a near future with that behavior!” he bellows, storming out of the shower.

“I’m fucking tired of always being the sex toy!” I holler.

“Well get used to it! It’s the only way we can make things stay into your head permanently!” he shouts from outside the shower, before slamming the door shut.

“Fuck you!” I yell as loud as I can. He doesn’t respond. “Good riddance,” I mumble, lifting myself off the shower floor and turning the tap off. I grab a towel, tie it around my waist and walk to my bedroom door. I rattle the door knob a couple times and it doesn’t open. Then I see a note placed right above my head.


Meet me in my room,



Fucking great. He must’ve locked it when I was in the shower. I huff, crunching the piece of paper in my hands, before taking a solid grasp on my towel and heading down the hall to his room. 

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