Strings and Schemes

Chapter 32

"I never want to leave Greece," I whine as we pack up the last of our stuff from the rental.

Zayn laughs, walking towards me and putting his arms around my waist. "Me neither, Jaan."

I hum as we sway together for a second.

"You know, it really has been the best vacation of my entire life." I smile, turning in his arms to look in his light brown eyes.

He smiles, pulling me in with his finger under my chin and kisses me tenderly.

"It's truly been mine, too."

We kiss in a way that says we have all day - no, all of our lives to do this. We kiss passionately, with no concern for the clock or our imminent departure from the love shack, greece style. He pulls me into him tightly, bracing my lower back with his hand as he moves us back towards our bed. The back of my legs hitting the edge first as I fall to the bed, giggling the whole way down.

God, he makes me act like such a girl.

He kneels in front of me, stripping my leggings, both of us almost getting concussed along the way. He grumbles something about yoga pants being the bane of his existence. There's something about the way this is unfolding that brings about a new level of comfort - the silent looks of amusement, the goofy, awkward kind of intimacy that makes you feel safe in a whole new way. 

He catches me staring,  "You look like you have lots of thoughts..." he says tentatively, climbing into my lap and pushing me down gently. I fall like a domino as he keeps one knee between my legs and the other on the side of me, he kisses me again. "I hope these are thoughts that can wait." He eggs me on.

I smile, "they're thoughts I'd rather show you than talk to you about," I tease.

With an overdramatic grunt, I flip us so I'm on top, my legs straddling his waist; grinding gently and unhurriedly into him. Earning a gasp from his lips. The energy is shifting, it doesn't feel like it normally does when we are intimate. It feels like something more important, something meaningful in a way I'm not sure I'm ready to say out loud just yet.

I put my hands on either side of his face, taking in every detail—the sharpness of his jaw, the slight furrow of his brows, the way his lips part as if he's about to say something but decides against it.

"You're staring again," he murmurs, hands sliding up my thighs, squeezing just enough to make me sigh.

I smirk. "You're hot, can you blame me?"

He laughs, full and unguarded, shaking his head. "No, but I can make it difficult for you to concentrate."

With that, he plants his feet flat on the mattress, lifting his hips just enough to press into me—hard, teasing, making me gasp. My hands grip his shoulders for balance, but my body is already melting into his, drawn in like he's the only source of gravity in the room.

"Okay, that's not fair," I breathe, rolling my hips against him in retaliation.

He grins, biting his lip like he's trying to keep his composure. "What, this?" He does it again, slow and deliberate.

I groan, tilting my head back. "You're really testing me today, Malik."

His hands trace slow, lazy circles along my hips as his gaze meets mine, something unguarded there. "Look at you, having your way with me," he teases, voice thick with amusement and something deeper. "Like you know exactly what you want."

His hands slide under my shirt, fingers ghosting up my spine, sending shivers up my back. I let him lift it over my head and toss it somewhere behind me. Feeling the warm breeze from the open balcony door enwrapping us.