Taste

TWO

Lauren removed the pillow from her face and stared at the ceiling. Sleeping was so hard to do when the mind was too occupied. The scenes from last night kept flashing in her brain since she hit the bed, and it seemed to her that those memories would never leave her alone. The first rays of morning sunshine were already streaming through her blinds but she was still wide awake and sleepless.

She felt a tingle on the back of her neck. Just thinking about what went down last night was enough to drive her insane, as if she was going to combust any moment whenever Zayn would cross her mind.

She bit her lower lip, then touched her mouth and closed her eyes. She could still feel the warmth and weight of Zayn's lips. Its softness, its hunger for her. How he fed on her mouth, how he consumed her, like she was the only one who could bring him back to life.

She could still taste him on her tongue. The combination of wine and cigarette went perfectly together and made her ecstatic. He tasted like how a man should be. Strong, powerful, musky.

Her breaths turned heavy as she took a further stroll down the memory lane. She placed her palm over her breast, trying to recall how Zayn's hands touched her. And she still could feel it. The slight roughness of his palms, the heat that lit her darkest desires and melted her to the core.

He definitely showed her a glimpse of what she was missing. It was just a glimpse, but she already lost herself. What more if he would show her the whole picture? What more if he would completely take her, her body and soul?

She wanted him. God, that was such an understatement. She needed him.

It felt like she finally found what she was searching for. A week ago, she was lost as hell, sitting in front of her laptop and looking for answers to her questions. Sure, she knew that she wanted something new, something exciting, but she was still clueless and confused about a lot of things. What exactly was she aching for?

Thank goodness she stumbled upon the ad for that fantasy club. She was reading an article about kinks when their ad appeared on the screen. When she clicked on it, she was directed to a decent looking website. The website was simple and classy but didn't spill too much information, though a phone number was attached to the ad.

It took her hours of serious thinking before she finally decided to dial their number. It was Harry who answered her call. He sounded really friendly over the phone, and he even agreed to meet her in a coffee shop nearby. She was scared at first and thought about ditching the plan, but when she saw Harry, she felt comfortable. He was charismatic in flesh and he oozed with positivity in every core, thanks to his smile that never left his face.

At first, she was scared to tell him about her hidden desires because she thought he wouldn't understand. But he encouraged her to voice them all out and assured her that he would never judge. He listened to her very attentively and even convinced her that it was completely normal to have such fantasies.

After their very enlightening conversation, she gave him the necessary documents to apply for a membership. Two days later, he invited her to The Lair for a little tour.

She had to admit, she was expecting a cheap place. Like a small apartment or a basement where drunk and high people were scattered everywhere and humping each other. But when she finally reached the destination, her jaw practically dropped on the floor and it took her several minutes to process everything. The Lair was the complete opposite of what she expected. It's a mansion, an elegant mansion behind the tall wrought gates. Posh cars were parked inside the premises, a proof that the club wasn't just a joke.

The Lair had two floors. The first level was for socializing, where the members could talk casually and know each other better while drinking some wine or champagne. The second floor was where the action was. There were rooms upstairs where the members could enjoy the privacy they were looking for. The rooms were all sound-proof, even the common room where voyeurism took place.