20 Days *1 Day Left*

"You want me. Every inch of your body wants me," he hissed, "You want me to touch you. You want me to fuck you". "You have twenty days left, Styles," I whispered looking at his delicious lips. "But you don't", he smirked and pushed me to his bed.


9. Day Three: Being His Slave

Harry Styles is the creepiest and the most perverted guy I’ve ever met. He’s disgusting and a man-whore. Yesterday was close. Too close.

But, I have to win. Whatever it takes.

That’s why.

I didn’t go to the party.

But he had already transferred funds to the library.

So, he needed compensation.

He said that with that smirk of his.

I had to say ‘yes’.


My mind said ‘no’.

My body said ‘hell yes’.


I have to.

Do whatever he says.

Considering his behavior.

I don’t expect him to be civil and gentlemanly.

But I have to bear this.

For the library.

It’s only one day.

Only twenty four hours.

Only for that time.

I’ll be his slave.


Day Four

Where were you yesterday, Kei?” Niall questioned with an eye-brow raise (Louis calls that the Liam Technique for Answers, in short LTA). “I didn’t see you at all! Neither did Louis!”

I thought fast. Yesterday, I was in the library the entire time. Apart from Harry’s quick visit, I hadn’t met any one of the One Direction members.

“I was in the library,” I replied.

His eyes widened and his jaw hung open. That moment, Louis came in and pulled up his jaw.

“You look funny like that Niall,” he simply said and took out the soda can from the refrigerator. He placed the can on the counter and tapped the surface of the can three times before opening it. Then took out a straw from the drawer and slid it inside the can. I am sure my reaction was the same as Niall’s when Louis looked at me.

“I didn’t want the fizz to splash my face,” he explained. “And it’s very troublesome to drink the soda out of the can directly. It makes my mouth sticky.” Sticky? Did he just say that?

His phone rang, and he took it out from his pocket with his free hand. The other hand was holding the can as far as he could from his body without the straw slipping from his mouth. If I had a twitter account or an instagram account, I would have surely taken this picture and posted it.

“Uh-huh,” he answered the phone. “Uh-huh. Got it. Anything else? Uh-uh.”

Then he looked straight at me, his eyes piercing down on me.

“Harry called you to his room,” he smiled in a mischievous way. “He is calling for his compensation. And he said that he already gave you six grace hours.” He, then looked at the watch and, chuckled. The ‘whole thing’ was supposed to start at twelve midnight. What is with Harry and the time always being midnight?  


I entered his room and before he could say anything, “You’re here, Kena!” I mocked in his accent. Then I answered, “It’s Keira!” He snickered, clearly finding this amusing.

“So let’s get down to business, eh, Kena?” he smirked. Why can’t he just call me by my name?

“Yes, lets,” I agreed. The sooner Harry’s wishes are met, the sooner I can be free. For now.

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