One Direction Preferences! (Book 3)

#452. Angry Dominance.

Louis: "Be ready for me when I come home," is all Louis texted you that day. So it's no wonder that you're nervously sitting at the kitchen table with twiddling thumbs and your teeth nibbling at your bottom lip. When the front door opens and Louis walks through, you don't know what to expect. Louis eyes quickly scan over your clothed body before letting his celestial eyes become a dark blue. His fingers fly up to his tye, quickly undoing it as he moves into the kitchen. His face is emotionless as he says, "I thought I told you to be ready for me when I get home." You stare at him, confused by what he means until your eyes fall to the large lump potruding from his pants. Your heart begins to race as you gulp down the lump in your throat, your sex twitching in excitement for what's to come. "This could have gone your way," Louis says softly, almost eerily as he inches towards you. You stand from the chair, bring your hand up to pull your shirt off, but Louis' hand stops you, putting it back at your side. "I want to do it." As he peels your clothes back, he bites and kisses and sucks and lick every inch of revealed skin, making you sensative to any sort of touch. "I'll be right back. Don't touch yourself," he warns before he pads away from you and out of the kitchen. While you wait for him, impatience and temptation build inside you, causing you to squeeze your thighs together in anticipation. Louis returns without any clothes on and a scarf in hand, and his eyebrows go down in disapointment. "You disobeyed me." "I didn't-" "You're squeezing your thighs together." You feel your face flush as he shakes his head, and he inches near you and beckons you to put your hands out. "This will prevent you from touching me," he says as he ties a double knot. "You'll understand why in a minute. Turn around." You obey, turning around and letting him lean you forward and over the small island. Louis trails kisses up and down your body, leaving dark marks at your neck and pumping his fingers in and out of you at an achingly slow pace. Just before you reach your climax, he stops, withdrawing his fingers and filling you with his long member. You gasp, closing your eyes and leaning your head forward as he starts out slow and picks up the force and pace. He chuckles to himself at the sound of your loud moans and the sight of your clenched hands.

Zayn: Zayn walks through the entrance of the kitchen, his eyes glazed over with that look you love so much. His mocha eyes are a shade dark and his teeth are biting at his lower lip as he comes closer to you, but you're not paying attention. You're too angry with him to turn and give him the attention he craves. Your back is to him, your hand stirring at the pot on the stove and your brow creased in concentration. He frowns, disappointed at your lack of attentiveness, and moves forward, thrusting his hips behind you and grinding against you. Taken by surprise, you jump at the sudden hardness against your bum, shivering at the chills his breath is sending down your spine. "See what you do to me?" Zayn questions, turning you around and grinding futher into you, making you throw your head back in pleasure. His mouth latches onto the base of your neck, leaving red bites as he scales your sweet spots. He smirks into your neck at the small moans coming from you, but he's shocked when you suddenly push him off. "No," you growl, pulling him out of the kitchen by the arm. You push him down onto the couch, throwing your legs over him and straddling him, leaning fown to seductively whisper, "My turn." You yank his belt off and pull his pants down, discarding them over the couch where they'll lay forgotten for awhile. "Take of your shirt and your boxers," you demand as you pull your shirt off. He obeys with wide eyes and watches you take the rest of your clothes off before you wrap your hand around his length. Your move your hand up and down, then take him in your mouth, hearing him groan from above and feeling him buck his hips upwards. "Fuck," he hisses, and you know he's getting close just by the way he's fidgeting. Then, before you can finish him off, he pushes you off, pushing you down onto the couch and hovering above you. His eyes are black with lust mirth as he positions him self at your entrance. Zayn's hips collide with your's before you can prepare yourself, and you hiss and moan and roll your eyes back in pleasure at the fullness of his length.

Niall: "Take your clothes off. Slowly." You hear the soft voice from behind you as you stand in your bedroom. When you turn your head, he's standing in the doorway, his eyes on your's with a look of lust and love. His eyes are clouded over, giving them a dark blue tint, and his lower lip is caught between his teeth. You oblige to what he says, lifting your hands to your shirt and pulling it over your head slowly. You hear his soft foot falls behind you as you reach for your pants, gasping at the sudden feel of his lips on your shoulder. "I didn't say stop," he whispers dangerously when your hands freeze at your bra strap. You tug it down, feeling Niall's fingers unlatch the back of it skillfully, and let it fall to the floor. His lips leave your skin when you reach for your pants, unbuttoning and unzipping them before you pull them down and step out of them. Niall kicks them to the side, kissing the nape of your neck where your hair stops when he whispers, "Turn around." Turning around, you watch his eyes look over your body, a smirk tugging the sides of his lips and his hands reaching up to the swells of your breasts. You gasp at the contact of his rough, callused hands with your sensative breast, rolling your nipples between his fingers and causing you to tip your head back in pleasure. "Lay down on your back," he says, accent heavy in his throat at the bulge sufficating in his jeans. You obey, laying on the the soft bed sheets underneath you, your sex twitching in anticipation and excitement at what's to come. Niall discards of his clothes, letting it join the rest of your clothes on the side, and kneels in front of you, parting your hands and pulling your body closer to his face. His minty breath tickles your center and you twitch, seeing him smirk at your anticipation. "I'm going to fuck you so hard tonight," he says, slipping one finger, two, then three into you. "Do you know why?" he pumps his fingers in and out of you at an achingly slow pace, and you groan in frustration at the increased desire for him. "Hmm?" He presses on, slowing his pace even more. Your breathing is irregular, and he withdrawls his fingers from your core. Niall lifts himself, hovering above you with his length hard against your hip. "Are you going to answer me?" He whispers as he trails a finger around your opening, and your breathing rate increase. "Answer me, damn it," he growls, and you sharply intake air at the force in which Niall pushed his fingers into you. "Why?" You almost scream. "Because, that shit face from the club, could never fuck you the way I could." And with that, he thrusts his length into your sex, deciding against giving you time to adjust before thrusting into you again. "B'cause your mine," he growls into your ear.