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"I want to see your face when you come on my cock for the first time. I want you to watch me as you come," he says, rocking his hips into me.
Zayn's hand circles my clit, the head of his cock hitting me deep as I tense up around him. My eyes flutter closed and he pinches my clit, making me gasp. They shoot back open, and he shakes his head at me.
"Eyes on me, Rylee. Keep them open."
He slams into me, his fingers stroking me faster as I force my eyes to stay open. My face twists in pleasure, our gazes locked when my body suddenly explodes as my orgasm comes hard.
Zayn keeps moving, his grey eyes staring in astonishment as he watches me come. When I finish, he leans down, kissing me.
"That's my pretty girl. I've given. Now, what comes next?" he asks, testing me.
"Your turn to take," I whisper, making him smirk.
"Exactly," he responds, slamming into me harder. My body slides up the chaise, nearly falling over the other side. He pounds into my body, his hand next to my head gripping the chaise tight. I wrap my legs around his waist, holding on as my fingers dig into his back. Zayn growls into my ear, thrusting into me hard before finding his own release.
I cry out as he holds still in my body, as deep as he can go. I watch his face as pleasure ripples over it, before slowly returning back to a smile.
He looks down at me, our bodies still connected. "I knew you'd look so beautiful coming apart."
Soft pants escape through my lips as I try to catch my breath. I close my eyes, feeling him move out of me. Zayn kisses me softly, and surprisingly, I kiss him back.
"So, what now?" he asks, moving to the couch and laying down.
I open my eyes and look at him, sprawled out naked, his toned body covered in sweat. He looks so fucking good, that it hurts. And I internally scold myself for sleeping with another fucking Taylor.
"Now? Now I have to go to work," I muse, slowly sitting up.
Zayn raises an eyebrow, amused. "You really sticking to the hour time limit, aren't you?"
I nod, rolling my eyes. "Some of us have jobs, Zayn. Not all of us can sit around in our little murder shacks getting off all day."
He laughs. "Murder shack. Ah, Rylee. You don't have to always play tough. It's okay to let people see the softer side every now and then."
Sure, it is. Just not the people who have the power to hurt and destroy us.
I grab my shorts and underwear, slipping them on. "Thanks for helping me with the tire," I say, ignoring his statement.
Zayn makes no effort to move, just lazily watching me with a soft smile. "Anytime, sis. Maybe I should come visit you."
"Maybe don't," I quip back, grabbing my keys.
"You like to play hard to get, don't you? There's one thing you're forgetting though."
I head towards the door. "What's that?"
"I'm not Asher."
I look back at him, hurt crossing my face. He sits up on the couch, resting his elbows on his knees.
"What does that mean?" I demand.
Zayn stands, crossing the room to reach me. "I mean," he says, cupping my face. "Don't treat me like him. You want to be a tough little rebel? Fine by me. But don't put me in the same category as him."
"I didn't," I argue.
He laughs. "Okay, kitty cat. Then, maybe I'll be seeing you soon, after all."
I stare at him angrily, confused and frustrated by his riddles. Without saying anything, I reach for the door, taking off towards my car.
