For Zayn, sex was an art. Something that should be enjoyed, explored and valued. It never bored him.
However, tonight, for the very first time, it did.
He released a weary sigh and raised his glass of wine to his lips, his hazel eyes scanning The Lair's common room where a ninja party was happening.
The ninja party used to be his favorite. It was Harry who came up with the idea years ago. It became a hit to their club's members and it didn't surprise Zayn. It was perfect for people who wanted to explore their sexuality and fetishes.
The rules of the party were very simple. The members just had to wear a black fabric around their eyes, then they would step inside the room where the other blindfolded members were waiting. They could touch each other, feel each other, basically do whatever the hell they wanted. It could be an intimate sex, a kinky one, a threesome, even an orgy. The possibilities were endless.
That's why Zayn liked that party a lot. You never knew what to expect. He never wore a blindfold, he just wanted to watch. He loved seeing how an innocent contact of skin could turn to something wild and kinky. If he found someone attractive, he would join her. Or them.
But this night was so weird for him. Hot and naked bodies were high in lust around him but he was still lukewarm. The smell of sex was floating in his nostrils and he wasn't even affected.
He focused on the two women who were making out on the couch near him. Two beautiful women pleasuring each other would usually push his horny button, but not tonight.
Zayn emptied his glass and groaned in frustration. Dammit, is it because of his age?
He shoved the idea away very fast. Impossible. Harry and Liam were also in their thirties like him but they're still sexually active. Besides, thirty-two wasn't old!
So what's wrong with him?
He sighed out again and stood up. Maybe if he would wander around and watch closely, he would find the excitement he was looking for.
He sauntered farther into the room, drinking in the erotic image around him. A woman was tied at the corner and being flogged by two men, the sounds of leather hitting the skin echoing in the air. Near the door were four men, lost in their own paradise.
All in all, the common room was oozing with arousing vibes. But he still felt lost and it devastated him. He was looking for something he couldn't explain and it was frustrating the shit out of him.
Maybe he should just go home.
With a shaking head, he started to strut to the door. He would just head home and lie down on his bed, maybe watch a movie or sketch something or read a book. Or eat a pizza all by himself.
As he was trying to decide what he would do in his apartment, the common room's door opened slowly. Harry entered, his hands guiding a blindfolded woman in a red satin dress and red fuck-me shoes.
Zayn's pulse raced when his sight landed on the woman. Round breasts, wide hips, and a perfectly-shaped ass. His hands itched. Her heavenly curves were like begging for his touch, same as her hair which was tied in a bun. He wanted to knead her hair and wrap his fingers around it as his other hand trails around her body.
Instead of heading to the door, Zayn chose to stay in his spot. He watched quietly as Harry took the woman at the center of the room, where a velvet couch was placed. The woman didn't sit. She just stood there, waiting.
Harry began to untie her bun. Her hair fell and slid graciously to her shoulders. Then he unzipped her dress and let the red fabric fall dramatically on her feet.
Air left Zayn's lungs with a swish. Motherfucking hell. Where on earth did Harry find this jewel?
Desire sparked in his veins and rapidly turned to a fierce fire. It crawled to his groin, then to his belly, making its way up to his throat until his tongue was dry as a desert.
He swallowed hard, his aching dick making him uncomfortable. Her nude body was such a celestial sight for him. Her immaculate skin glowed under the dim lights and her jet black hair hung like silk curtains on her back.
Such a goddess.
His eyes traveled more around her body. He suddenly wondered how it would feel like to touch her erect and pinkish nipples. And her ass, dear God. He could tell that her round globes would fit perfectly on his hands.
She was made and shaped for him.
A hand suddenly grasped his swelling bulge. "Let me take care of you while you watch her," said the blonde woman beside him, then knelt between his legs and unzipped his pants.
He wanted to explode in someone's mouth. He badly wanted to because he was so hard it hurt.
But he shoved the woman's hand away, ignoring her offer of a quick escape from his agony. He didn't want anyone else. Just her, the one that Harry brought with him. She's the only one who could quench his thirst.
He found himself walking towards her, his jeans getting tighter as he went closer to where she was. When he looked at Harry, his friend just gave him an I-know-right kind of smirk.
Zayn checked the woman's neck. She wasn't wearing anything around it, which meant she didn't belong to Harry. Thank fuck for that.
He moved closer to her. Her jasmine scent lingered under his nose and added fuel to the fire that was burning inside him. He looked at Harry again, his eyes asking. His friend nodded at him, giving him the permission to do whatever he wanted to the woman he brought.
Zayn was kinda surprised. Yes, they shared a lot of women before, but he expected him to be protective with a gem like her. Because if she was his, he would be a very selfish asshole and not even his best friend could touch her.
He considered himself a lucky bastard. If Harry would keep her all to himself, he would probably go crazy. Or end their friendship.
Harry whispered to the woman's ear. "My friend will touch you, alright?"
She just nodded, then licked her lips. It made Zayn groan lowly. He could easily picture those delicious lips tightly wrapped around his dick. God, how would it feel like? He wanted to know.
But that could wait. Right now, he wanted to touch her.
With shaking fingers, he caressed her lower lip. It was soft, warm and inviting. Then he kissed her and let his tongue slide inside her mouth, desperate to have a taste.
Her taste burst in his mouth and filled his senses. Warm blood flowed in his veins and he was resurrected. She was sweet, spicy, delectable. Something he never tasted before, something very foreign to him.
Her mouth flowed smoothly with his. She responded hungrily, her tongue brushing the corners of his lips. He felt her turning liquid before him, he felt her submitting herself to him.
And holy shit, it made his dick twitch.
He held her nape while his other hand caressed her shoulder. Her skin felt so soft and smooth under his palms. His hand went down to her breast, squeezing her erect nipple with his fingers.
She moaned gently inside his mouth, and he almost lost it. His bulge was seriously swelling and aching now. He considered shoving his dick in her mouth but he still wanted to feel every inch of her skin.
His hand trailed down her stomach, then her hips, trying to memorize every curve of her flesh. She shuddered when his fingers found her sensitive spot between her legs. Slowly, he parted her weeping folds, then dipped a finger into her soaked pussy and brought it inside his mouth.
"Oh fuck," he grunted after licking his finger, his voice hoarse. She tasted exquisite. Explosive. He never tasted someone like her in his whole damn life.
He needed her. He needed her so bad.
He wanted to take her home. Fuck her until she couldn't walk and think straight. Fuck her in his bed and not in the common room to be part of a public sex.
And he wanted her all by himself. Yes, he could see that Harry was dying to taste her, but the hell with him. She belonged to him. Only to him. He wouldn't share her. Never.
She belonged to his damn bed and he knew it.
"You're going with me," he whispered to her ear, then took her blindfold off. He wanted to see the pair of eyes behind the woman who set his world in a beautiful fire.
The color drained from his face when he saw the piercing green eyes before him, staring penetratingly to his soul.
"Jauregui?!" he blurted, his features rumpled in disbelief. Were his eyes messing up with him or what? Did he just really see his-
"P-professor?" the woman mumbled nervously, her face pale because of too much shock.
Zayn's nostrils flared in anger. His eyes narrowed to menacing slits and his jaw clenched tight. Fucking hell. It was really Lauren Jauregui. Lauren Jauregui, his student. She was here. In The Lair.
He furiously grabbed the dress on the floor and tried to wrap it around her body. If minutes ago he loved how the dress hugged her curves, now he hated that sinful piece of fabric.
And he suddenly hated himself. He wanted to slam his head against the wall. He touched his student and almost fucked her, for fucks sake.
"Wear that dress and go home, Jauregui," he grumbled under gritted teeth. He turned to Harry who was staring at them like a clueless puppy then gripped the collar of his shirt. "Since when did we fuck minors, Harry?!"
"Excuse me?" Lauren butted in with a frown. "I'm twenty-one!"
Zayn pinned her with a glare. "You're a freshman, Jauregui."
"And twenty-one years old," Lauren repeated. "I'm an adult."
"Bullshit," Zayn spat, releasing Harry's collar from his hands. "Get dressed and go home. Now."
"But I'm a member here!"
"You're a what?!" Zayn roared, his eyes burning. He looked at Harry with his deadliest stare. "You let a teenager join our club?!"
Harry opened his mouth to talk but Lauren was fast enough to speak first. "I told you I'm not a teenager! I'm twenty-one for Christ's sake!" she stressed out, capturing the attention of the other people around. Some of them were now staring at them with curious eyes, wondering why they were yelling in the middle of the common room.
Harry approached Lauren and touched her arm. "Get dressed, sweetheart. We'll talk about this later." He looked at Zayn. "Bro, let's talk outside, yeah?"
Zayn glowered at him, then glanced at Lauren who was wearing her clothes with a fuming face. He walked away and stopped at the dim hallway outside the room. He pulled a pack of cigarette from his pocket. He badly needed a smoke.
Harry appeared in front of him after his first puff. "Bro," he uttered calmly, running a hand through his long curls. "You can't just send her home against her will. You know we can't do that. We never forced our members to do something they don't want to do."
Zayn's eyes blazed behind the veil of cigarette smoke. "She can't be a member! She's my student!"
"But she's in the right age, Zayn."
"And you're sure she's not lying about that?" Hell. He just wouldn't believe that Lauren was legal. He might not know the stories of his students but she looked so young.
But the image of her naked body flashed in his mind. Dammit, that kind of body wasn't screaming a minor's age. She wasn't a teenager. She's a woman. Fully bloomed and ready to be picked. Ripe and sweet.
He forced himself to get rid of those sultry images in his head. Instead, he focused on the Lauren that he always sees in his English class. The Lauren that was always in jeans, a simple shirt, and denim jacket. He couldn't wrap his head around the fact that she went in the Lair wearing a tiny red dress and red fuck-me shoes. And she's a member!
Harry sighed and eyed him seriously. "Lauren showed me all the required documents before I signed her in. Birth certificate, ID, everything. She's not lying about her age."
Zayn didn't say anything. He stared at the floor for a moment, then lifted his head just to exhale smoke. He felt like an idiot. He should've had recognized his student. But then, who could blame him? Aside from the fact that Lauren was wearing different clothes, he never really paid attention to his students. He never really looked at them. He never tried to connect with them.
He dropped the cigarette butt on the floor and crushed it with his shoe. He gave Harry a stoic gaze. "She can't be a member, H. I don't give a fuck about how old she is. I will never be comfortable if my student is in our club, you fucking know that."
Harry pressed a finger on his lip. "We can't just kick her out. We have to talk to Liam first about this."
"Liam will understand."
"I thought this club welcomes anyone as long as they're in the right age?"
Zayn bit his cheek. "Not anymore," he said, then walked back into the common room.
"Get up," he ordered instantly to Lauren when he reached her place. She was sitting on the couch with both of her legs and arms crossed. "Follow me."
"Where are we going?" she frowned.
"Just do what I said," he said impatiently, then grabbed her wrist and dragged her with him.
It was enough to shut her further protest. His grip on her was full of control, yet it didn't hurt her.
They left the room and went straight to the hallway. Lauren gave Harry a helpless look but he just pursed his mouth and followed them quietly until they all reached the mansion's front door.
Lauren twisted her wrist from Zayn's grip and pulled her hand away. "I will not go home!" she yelled when she finally realized what was really happening. "I have the right to stay here and do what I want! I'm a member!"
"Not anymore," Zayn said flatly while he opened the door. He held her arm and took her with him outside.
"Who are you to say that?!" she hollered as he pulled her to the stairs, her hands still trying to escape his grip.
He stopped in his tracks and gave her a piercing glare. "I own this fucking club, Jauregui," he uttered slowly but sternly, making sure she would get each word. "I can accept whoever I want and kick out whoever the fuck I want. When I say you can't be here, you can't be here. Do you understand?"
"No." She braved his fiery eyes and stared back, willing to fight. "The rules were clear, Mr. Malik. Your club accepts twenty-one-year-olds and up. You can't just change the rules."
"I just did," he stated coolly. "From now on, the youngest age we'll accept is twenty-five."
"Zayn," Harry muttered behind Lauren.
"Shut the fuck up, Styles," Zayn sneered. "Go home, Jauregui. Go home or I'll fail you in my class."
"Fail me?!" she scoffed, followed by a bitter laugh. "Are you seriously using my grades against me? You can't just do that, Mr. Malik."
"Don't test me, Jauregui."
Lauren's lips tightened. She knew he wasn't fucking around, it was clear in his tone. She might not be that serious with college, but failing never had a place in her vocabulary.
She gave her professor the ugliest scowl she could manage and turned her back to leave. She was too drained and tired to argue with her professor. Ashamed, even. He would win anyway so what was the point?.
"I'll drive you home," Harry volunteered, then followed her.
Zayn watched the two until they reached Harry's Mercedes. When they finally drove away, he closed his eyes and released a very deep breath. He suddenly felt spent. Dealing with Lauren was more exhausting than fucking a girl ten times.
He walked to where his Ferrari was parked. He just wanted to go home and rest his body and mind. He sent a quick text to Liam and asked him to look after the club tonight because he got a massive headache. He knew that Liam spends his Sundays with his fiancée, but he wasn't in the mood to go back inside the Lair.
He drove home, his eyes focused on the road but his mind swimming somewhere else, looking for answers to his questions. How on earth did his student discover the club? It was a very discreet circle. They didn't spread flyers or posters nor put it in papers or television. But if you would search the internet about sexual fantasies and kink, their ad would pop up somewhere.
He shifted uncomfortably on his position when he realized that Lauren might be searching the web about fantasies and kink. What's her fantasy? What did she want? A dom? A threesome? A daddy?
He cursed lowly under his ragged breath and rubbed his nape in frustration. Why was he even curious about that? She's his student. Sex and student shouldn't be in one sentence, period.
He poured himself a glass of bourbon right away when he reached his apartment. He took the bottle to the balcony, thinking that the air and alcohol would somehow calm him.
But they didn't. Even after gulping two glasses of bourbon and removing his shirt, he still felt odd. Hot. Thirsty. Needy .
He knew what he needed. He knew who he needed.
He mumbled a string of curses and drank the remaining bourbon from the bottle. "She's your fucking student, Malik. Don't fucking forget that," he grunted to himself. No, he wouldn't give in. He wouldn't go through the same hell again.
He wouldn't let history repeat itself.
***
Thoughts? :)
I know this is so different compared to the first zauren book I did but yeah. Hope you guys will like this one. :D