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His lips part.
I thrust in another finger, maintaining eye contact with Zayn throughout.
A powerplay I can do.
My pace is slow, building up a rhythm, moving in and out, watching him watch me with rapt fascination.
I am on the edge of the precipice when I feel his hand on my wrist, drawing me out.
My fingers are in his mouth as he cleans them. Our gaze holds for a brief few moments before he just snaps. Dragging me up against him, this time the kiss is a wild affair.
As his shirt is tossed off and thrown somewhere before now it’s time for his pants to follow. I can hear myself panting, desperate noises escaping me, gasping out Zayn’s name, half-maddened by desire.
/> I am dragged off the counter, flipped over till I stand on my feet, my upper body pressed against the cool marble, Zayn’s fingers in my hair as he keeps my cheek pressed against the counter.
Words are lost as I feel the blunt head of his cock tease my entrance for a few minutes before he slides in with a groan.
“Fuck. You’re tight!”
I claw blindly at the counter, needing purchase, something to hold on to. I writhe in his lethally strong grip where he keeps my face forced down in a wonderfully dominant hold, anchoring me to him as he makes sure I can’t move.
Not that I have to.
He is doing the work for both of us, his cock pistoning in and out of me at a punishing pace, making me whine and whimper and gasp out, pleas falling from my lips as I beg him to fuck me harder.
When his chest reaches over to press against my back, his breath hot against my ear, he murmurs filth that has me growing wetter, obscene observations about how I look, about the sounds that are spilling out of me. He murmurs vicious words that make me moan, telling me that there are so many things he could fill in my greedy holes, that I only have to ask.
Crude and cruel words that are humiliating and yet so freeing. I frantically try to chase a release that feels like it is seconds away, feeling his cock pound into me at a relentless pace, scraping against sensitive nerve endings. His breath is like a brand on my skin, and he keeps biting and sucking, leaving marks on me that I want.
My vision grows white as I scrabble helplessly at the counter, sobbing as I shatter, crying out his name. Zayn groans, a deep guttural sound, and he immediately pulls out and lets his release on my back.
Spent, exhausted, I feel his arms around me as he helps me stand up.
Both of us look wild and he takes a step closer to me, murmuring. “You’ll be sleeping in my bedroom starting tonight.”
I stare at him with dazed eyes and make a small sound of agreement.
I walk into this with my eyes open.
15
Zayn
In all my wildest dreams, I never imagined the woman that lays on the bed, passed out. A black silk sheet covers her bottom, leaving her back bare as she lays flopped on her stomach, zoned out, her soft breathing the only constant sound in the room.
Propped on my elbow, I curl a strand of dark black hair around my finger, unable to stop myself from touching her. These feelings inside me for Eve, I can’t find a label for them.
Initially, I called it love, but that word seems so whitewashed.
It is more than that.
It is something dark, something illuminating. Something so beautiful and twisted.
I will lay the world down at her feet if she asks me to.
I wonder if Eve knows how much power she wields in her delicate hands.
I tug lightly at her hair and am mildly amused when I hear her mumble something nasty under her breath as she refuses to wake up.
