Chills - Z.M (Book 2, Cold Trilogy) -Editing

Chapter 2 - Now or Never.

Chapter 2

Before you start, I just wanted to say thank you so much for reading! And THE NEW TRAILERS UP! Its on the right (; Okay, please continue:)

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The intoxication of cigarettes and his magnetising scent all in one is heady and overwhelming me. Zayns dark, looming eyes pierce me in place and he steps back, letting me and my hair go. I exhale with relief. Thank fuck I still have hair.

"Follow me. I'm sure I can teach you a lesson or three." Zayn smirks, with a evil glint in his eyes that sends disarming chills through me and gracefully and effortless as ever, he turns on his heel to continue on wherever he has in mind. He's changed his clothes, all in black and completely dominating; those black jeans that shows a slight bulge, black shirt, that exposes his prominent shoulders and sexy back muscles and that black mood, that expresses how he feels.

I'm thrown back when he leads me to the gym/library area. I remember coming in here for the first time, feeling confused when the whole room changed from a gym to a library. This room is giving me anxiety already. Before Zayn opens the door, he turns to me and without anticipating it, he grabs my face and kisses me as if it's his only duty; as if his life depends on it. But just as fast as that happen, he pulls away and shoves me against the door. I gasp momentarily and his voice tickles my neck as I hold my breath.

"Fear is your worse enemy." Zayn says, or warns. Sounds like a warning, based on the emotion in his face.

He opens the door and refuses to say anything else. Feeling breathless and vulnerable, he motions me in, gaze dark and menacing.

Quietly, Zayn closes the door as I walk in and I hold my breath. The smell is welcoming, but different. I cant quite describe it, but its like an erotic smell, slightly smells like the scent of lube and condoms with a vanilla perfume smell. Kind of like the smell of sex.

I gaze around the library. The lights are low, giving me chills and growing the anxiety inside of me. There's something less pleasant about this room than it was the first time I came in here. Is it because i know what he really is now than i did before, or is it because i have a weird feeling this is the place he punishes all of his sexual partners or slaves, or even submissive; they all come under the same definition.

The bookshelves aren't here, neither is the art work. There's a bed, covered in a black silk of sheet with two red pillows against the headboard thats also red. There's three chest of drawers and when I look up, the pool that's on the next level up, is not there. Its cold and unwelcoming, leaving me nervous and unsettling. This room confuses the fuck out of me.

Zayn stands at a certain distance in the doorway; Posture extremely broad, tall, stiff and radiating intimidation. His jawline is locked in, showing just how prominent the definition of his sculpted jaw is. And his eyes are cold, so cold and dark, sparking with light lust and acrimony. His eyes don't leave mine. Brown to brown, we stare. I try to gauge his expression, but he remains impassive and distant. He tilts his head to the side, very slowly and I realise something. Shit! I look down straight away, casting my eyes to my white converse all star covered feet.

"Take your clothes off!" Zayn demands, softly, but edgy. Subtle, but intimidating.

This is the punishment room? It has to be. Bed, three drawers, eerie surroundings, lights are low. This room is his punishment room and he's definitely in his element.

But because I'm petrified as fuck, I move faster than I ever have. My shoes come off, along with my socks, my jeans and my flimsy jacket. While I strip, he circles me; hands behind his back, cool calm and collected facial expression and dark eyes staring me down, watching my every move.