One Direction Preferences

Lust

Lust

Niall: Its heavy in the air as you press your beer bottle back to your lips. Niall knows that you aren't aware of what your doing but he can't help feel his muscles tighten as you take a long pull of your beer, perfect, pink lips wrapped around the bottle. His eyes darken, the normal sky blue turning opaque in the dimming bar light. Finally, when you catch his eye you grin. He's staring at you with such lust you wonder how the entire bar hasn't burn down under the intensity of his gaze. He nods to you and you slide from you seat, chest almost pressing against his as you stop. "You know what you're doing to me, don't you?" he asks, hand sliding down your back. You shake your head and he cracks a grin. "You've always been a bad liar baby girl, and now all I can think about is that mouth wrapped around me." He runs his thumb over your lower lip, eyes following the movement. "You make me crazy," he said, quieter now. He leaned in, lips almost pressed against your ear. "I'm going to show you exactly how crazy you make me."

Harry: He doesn't mean for his gaze to drop. It's just that your mouth is so god damn distracting, he can't help himself. The way it moves when you speak, laugh, smile, smirk, frown- he's helpless in following the movement it makes. He knows he's staring, but it can't be helped. God, what would that mouth feel like against his skin? He's burning from the inside out, lust swirling and pumping through his veins until he's dizzy with it. "What? What did you say?" he finally asks, realizing that your mouth has stopped moving and the conversation had ended. "You haven't heard anything I've said all night, have you?" you laugh, watching his cheeks flush. "I have," he insists. "I have," He can't admit that he's fascinated with your mouth and how you run your tongue over it just before you say something. He can't tell you that he wants it pressed to his neck, his chest. His eyes darken the slightest bit as you nibble on it. "God damn," he mutters, hand scrubbing over his face. "God damn."

Zayn: Your shy about it, which makes it that much harder to resist. He knows that you aren't comfortable with the way he makes you feel- how could you, the magnitude of Zayn's impact on you couldn't be explained in the English language. But the lust in your eyes and in your body is unmistakable to him as you fidget with your hands, eyes to the ground. "You okay, baby?" he asks, finger tracing the curve of your shoulder. You nearly leap from your seat, the brief contact sending shivers along your spine. You nod, wondering how you can tell him you want him to do that movement somewhere else. He smiles and leans back, his hand dropping to your thigh where he repeats the movement. He can feel the desire ooze off you as you shift further, his hand moving up another couple inches almost to where you want him most. "Do you want me, baby?" he whispers seductively. Mutely, you nod and he smirks. "Come here on my lap and tell me just how much you want my fingers and mouth on you, baby girl."

Liam: He isn't subtle about it at all. In fact, it feels like the entire bar is ready to go up in smoke the longer he looked at you. It's in his eyes, his hands, his hips, his words and the way he seems to undress you with a simple gaze alone. The hand he runs down your back doesn't stop when he hits the waist band of your jeans. It moves down over the curve of your ass where he gives a hard squeeze and you almost moan in the dimming light. "Tell me you want me," he demands, bringing you into his chest. "I need to hear it." The lust he feels could never be explained as he drops his mouth to your neck. "I want you," you whisper, rubbing against him. "So badly." He hums low in his throat, bringing your back to his chest as he grinds against you. "Are you going to be a good girl for daddy tonight? Are you going to let him please you like you love," your skin nearly erupts under his silky words and helplessly, you nod. "Because you're always so good for daddy," he purrs, hands tangling in your hair. "That's my girl," he says darkly, mouth closing over your earlobe.

Louis: He tries to deny it, tries to reign it in but it's nearly impossible to do so when all you've got on is his shirt and those red lacy panties. He knows you both have an early start, but he can't help the way his hands snake around your waist and the way they push the material of his shirt up over your ribs. "Lou." His name is a breath on your lips and he smiles, nimble fingers flicking down that red lace. "Say it louder," he says hoarsely, pulling his shirt from your shoulders.The air in the room thickens, a different sort of darkness perfuming the air. It's lust; heady and unable to be denied. "Lou," louder this time you say his name. That's all he needs as he backs you into the bedroom door, fingers sinking between your legs with a quick movement. Your gasp is the only sound in the room and he smiles, letting his mouth fuse to yours. "So sweet, so warm," he mutters against your mouth. Your head reels and he's quickly losing his own as you kiss him back, fingers knotted in his hair. When his knees hit the bed he's lost in you, just as he always is.