Art [Zarry]

IX

~Saturday afternoon~
Harry
"S'that feel good, baby?" I smirked, leaving steamy, open mouthed kisses down his flat stomach.

Occasionally, I licked his smooth skin, savoring the taste, and moving downward at a teasing speed.

"Harry, m'so hard." Zayn almost whined, his hips rising slightly, pushing up against me.

"I know, beautiful." I said quietly, kissing his member through his snug fitting boxer briefs.

"I want you, I want you so bad." He breathed, squirming.

"What d'you want me to do to you?" I teased, pressing small kisses against his skin as I made my way back up to his ear.

"Take me." He moaned softly, taking a loose handful of my curls.

I grinded down against him hard, hearing his breathing hitch from the intense and sudden spark of arousal.

"Harry please," He begged in a whimper.

I kissed his lips to quiet him, kissing his jaw next.

"Dunno." I mumbled, only able to tease him like this because I knew he wasn't going anywhere.

He belonged to me.

His perfect body, every single inch, was mine. I could do whatever I wanted to with him, whenever I wanted to.

"Take me, now." He commanded breathily, his plump lips brushing against my ear.

"I'd like to play first." I whispered innocently into his ear, going back down to the only clothing left on his body.

I ran my tounge over my lips, planning on sliding his boxers down until I suddenly began to hear ringing.

The ringing got louder, and the feeling of Zayn's warm skin against mine quickly faded away.

I blinked once, now staring forward at my bedroom ceiling.

When I realised that I'd been woken up from my nap, and had that perfect dream interrupted, I became irritated.

I sighed angrily, picking up my phone and answering it.

"Harry?" Zayn asked, causing me to smile.

"Hey beautiful." I said, my voice deeper than usual from sleep.

"Um...I....d-don't call me that," He stuttered, making me grin.

"Are you busy?" He asked.

"I wish." I said, quite sure I'd be calling that pizza boy tonight.

Although, I wanted Zayn.

"My car won't start,"

"Could you um, give me a ride?" He asked. "To the train station?"

"I would love to be your ride, Zayn. Anytime." I said, imagining my hands on his hips while I watched him ride me.

I imagined how pretty he'd look, those lips parted for the breath he couldn't manage to catch.

Those bright eyes squeezed shut because of how good it hurt. The muscles in his torso and thighs flexing whilst he moved with me, making a rhythm of our own. A rhythm that would not only allow me to fully experience how tight he was, but it would also let him hit the right spot again and again, causing him to call out for me.

I unconsciously let a quiet moan slip through my lips, forgetting that I was on the phone.

"T-To the train station, Harry." He clarified.