For a moment, Niall stood staring at him, unable to move or speak. Those last few precious hours of freedom he'd counted were gone, he realized dazedly. Time had finally run out.
Eventually, he said hoarsely, "I-I don't understand. I thought - you - you said you had work to do."
Zayn shrugged, the robe slipping away from one tanned, muscular shoulder. "I found concentration difficult, my love. During our separation I found that I desired you more than I had planned to do. So I decided that while work could wait, you could not. And I could not." He held out his hand. "Sweet cheeks," he commanded softly. "Come here."
Niall said, dry mouthed. "It's the middle of the afternoon!"
"The time of siesta," he said. "A habit I understand you have acquired since the time of your arrival. Today you will spend it with me instead of alone."
"But I have a headache." Niall despised himself for the note of pleading he could hear in his voice.
"I also ache," Zayn said with faint amusement. "But in a different way. Perhaps we will heal each other." He added more crisply. "And now, Niall love, please do not weary me with any further excuses. You know why you're here."
The blonde made himself move then. Made himself walk to the bed, knowing with certainty that there was nothing else he could do, and also that there was a part of him - a part he tried desperately to banish - that flared with sparks of excitement.
Zayn took his hand, drawing Niall down beside him gently. Niall saw that he was no longer smiling. Instead his expression was serious - even intense - as he reached for the sash of his robe and untied it slowly, almost carefully, pushing apart its concealing folds.
The blonde knew that this was only the beginning, but all the same, he turned his head away, closing his eyes so he would not have to see his dark gaze burning over his naked body.
If I don't look at him, he thought, maybe I can pretend this isn't really happening. But that won't work either, because he's been there in my dreams every night since we first met. Which is something I need to forget.
The silence that followed was broken only by Zayn's sigh of pleasure, hardly more than a breath.
The shorter of the two lay still as the Pakistani removed his robe completely, Niall's hands clenched by the sides to hide the fact that his body was, against his will, responding to the older man's touch.
Zayn said softly. "You are very lovely. But worth the ruin of a man's whole future life? I wonder."
Niall had not, of course, realized that shutting off the sight of Zayn would simply heighten all his other senses, making him vividly aware of the slight dip in the mattress as he moved even closer. So close that Niall thought he could feel the strong heavy chest of Zayn's heart echo in his own bloodstream. Could absorb the clean, soap enhanced scent of his warm skin. Hear the sharp rustle of silk as he discarded his own robe.
Zayn began to touch him, his hand skimming lightly from the curve of Niall's cheek down his throat and to his shoulder, then molding the slender outline of his body in one long, sweeping movement, that in-spite of his inexperience, Niall recognized as more a declaration of intent that a cares. A gesture that promised total possession.
In his self-imposed darkness, the blonde was conscious of other things, too. The strange sensation of a man lying next to him, his heated nakedness grazing his own skin. The powerful and potent reality of his male arousal.
He felt fingers cup his chin, turning his face towards him, and then experienced the first brush of Zayn's lips on his own thin ones, lingering, searing, and oddly, unexpectedly gentle. He kissed him kissed, his mouth persuasive - insistent. Seeking, some instinct told Niall, the beginnings of surrender he dared not risk. Because once he had yielded he knew with utter certainty that there would be no way back - and, more shockingly, nor did he want to there to be.
Zayn's hand found Niall's chest, his thumb teasing the nipple and bringing it to aching, hardening life with an ease that amazed Niall. And warned him too, that his lips were beginning to soften under the subtle pressure of his kiss. Even - parting...
With a gasp, he jerked his mouth away from the tanned man's, at the same time seizing his wrist and dragging it away from his body.
He felt Zayn pause, and waited, his pulses pounding unevenly. Wondering.
The Pakistani said quietly. "Look at me."
Niall obeyed unwillingly, his gaze uncertain to meet Zayn's.
"So what are you telling me, sweet cheeks?" Propped on an elbow, he studied the blonde, his expression enigmatic. "That any further attempt to arouse you for our mutual pleasure would be wasted?"
No, Niall thought. That I'm out of my depth and liable to drown in a sea of longing. Because you make me feel - make me want impossible things. And I can't let that happen. I can't let you happen.
"Think what you please." The Irishman found a voice from somewhere, as he stared rigidly past Zayn. "It makes no odds to me. I hate and despise you, Zayn Malik, and nothing you say or do to me will change that. Not now. Not ever."
There was a tingling silence, then Zayn said softly. "If you imagine I shall appreciate such frankness, you are wrong. My own wishes are very different." His hand cupped Niall's chin as he stared down at the pretty blonde, his dark eyes brooding. "But I am not unrealistic. I expect you to give no more than you have offered in the past to other men."
Niall swallowed. "I offer nothing, Mr. Malik. So - take what you want, then leave me alone."
"And if I had met you under other circumstances, is that still what you would have said to me?" Zayn moved, drawing him closer. "If I had come ashore from Persephone that afternoon and found you, asked you to come with me - be with me - would you have fought me then?"
"Yes." Niall said, aware that his heart was suddenly thudding against his rib cage. "Because once you'd discovered who I am, you'd have remembered your revenge, and everything would've just been the same."
"Perhaps." he said. "But I wonder. About that - and also other things." He bent his head, brushing Niall's mouth once more with his, surprising the blonde with his sudden gentleness. "For example." Zayn went on softly, "how can lips that speak such hard words taste so fucking sweet?"
The erratic behavior of his heartbeat held Niall mute as once more, Zayn's fingertips stroked his nipple, luring the delicate nipple to pucker in response before taking it between his lips in an arousal as delicious as it was irresistible.
Only Niall had to resist it, he thought to himself, stifling a gasp. That - and the slow, beguiling glide of Zayn's hand down his flushed and restless body to the curve of his hip. Had to, or he would never be able to live with the shame of it.
Zayn raised his head and looked down at Niall. He said quietly. "I warned you that I would not be cheated of my satisfaction, and I meant it. But it is a pleasure I find that I wish you to share, Niall. So - I ask you to put your arms around me and give me your lovely mouth."
Niall said huskily. "You ask for too much."
A bronzed shoulder lifted in a shrug. "Then remember, that the choice was yours."
Zayn lifted himself over Niall, almost negligently parting his thighs with his knee, sliding his hands under the blonde's flanks and lifting Niall towards him.
Niall felt the rigid hardness of Zayn pressing against him, demanding entry to the secret place and gave in to the sudden scald of excitement deep within him.
Hastily, he shut his eyes again, telling himself it was so that he would not have to see Zayn's smile of triumph as he achieved his ultimate revenge. Knowing that Niall had to hide that unwelcome, impossible stir of desire in case he recognized it. Determined to deny him any kind of response, whatever the cost.
Zayn moved with commanding purpose, penetrating Niall with one powerful thrust of his loins, and in that same instant the blonde's world blurred into a pain he'd never dreamed could exist as his virgin flush impeded Zayn's invasion.
Spikes of colored light danced behind his closed lids, his resolution to remain silent and passive forgotten with his first shocked cry.
Then, it was over. Niall heard him say. "Fuck," Zayn's voice raw and shaken, then he pulled away from the flushed blonde. Out of him.
Zayn flung himself on his back beside Niall, his breathing hoarse and ragged, and the blonde lay motionless, slow tears squeezing from beneath his lids and scalding a path down his face. The flash of pain had subsided, and Zayn's withdrawal had left him hating himself for aching for his continued touch.
The Pakistani moved again , and Niall flinched involuntarily. But he was only reaching for his robe and dragging it on, fastening the belt as he left the bed and walked to the door. He threw it wide and shouted an imperative summons.
A moment later Hara appeared, and Zayn bent his head, talking softly and rapidly in Arabic. Niall saw the older woman's hands go to her cheek in a kind of horror as she listened. She began to speak, but Zayn silenced her, patting her shoulder and turning her towards the bed before he left, closing the door quietly behind him.
Which, in some strange way, seemed to make things a hundred times worse, Niall thought numbly. Simply watching him walk away, without a word except a muttered blasphemy.
A sob rose in his throat, and then another, and he found he was crying in earnest, his body shaking as he turned to bury his wet face in the pillow.
And then he felt himself being lifted with astonishing gentleness and held against Hara's generous bosom, while his hair was stroked and words were murmured that he could not comprehend but which sounded oddly comforting just the same.
He didn't understand this volte-face, but somehow it didn't seem to matter.
He saw Hara looking down at the bed, and following her gaze, saw with desperate embarrassment that there was blood on his thighs and on the sheet.
Niall said shakily. "Oh, God. I-I'm so sorry."
"No need for sorrow." Hara's tone was kind but firm. "Sometimes, for a woman, the first time is easy. For others, like you, not good. It is how it is." She touched Niall's hot cheek. "And now that Mr. Malik knows that you are a girl of purity - of honor - he will be kind to you in bed. Make sure there is no more pain, only pleasure." She smiled. "Now I fill a bath for you."
"I am not a girl." Niall clutched the bed sheet in his hand. "But really, there is no need for a bath. It's the last thing I want."
"You are who you wish to be." Hara was bewildered. "No bath?"
"Mr. Malik being - kind." Niall sat up. "He'll never come near me - never touch me again."
"Ha! Such foolishness." Hara chided. "How could he now? If he had been husband on wedding night, same pain, same blood." She gave Niall a look that was almost roguish. "There will be more loving. You are beautiful, Mr. Horan. You need beautiful man to give you joy in bed. Make..." She stopped suddenly, an awkward expression flitting across her face." Make much happiness."
And she bustled off to the bathroom, leaving Niall to wonder what she'd intended to say.
But, he discovered, he was glad of the bath. Thankful to sink down into warm scented water and reclaim his body.
If only, he thought, it was as easy to erase from his mind the way his body had reacting to Zayn's touch at the beginning - how his lips had bloomed under his kiss and his chest had seemed to swell under the provocative stroke of his fingers.
The way his body had seemed prepared to welcome him.
And, to his eternal shame, he felt his nipples again tauten into rosebuds at the memory.
There was more humiliation waiting for him in the bedroom. The maids who'd been there earlier were just leaving, having changed the bed-linen at Hara's directions.
Now everyone in the house would know what had happened, he thought, and wanted to howl all over again.
Hara sat him on the dressing stool and began to brush his hair.
"You rest now." she ordained. "Later, I bring the new dresses," she added guilelessly. "Make you look beautiful for Mr. Malik."
"No." Niall said, swiftly and definitely. "I meant what I said. I won't accept anything he's brought me. And I don't want to look beautiful for anyone - least of all him. Because if I'd been ugly I wouldn't be here, and none of this would have happened."
Argue with that, Niall though, but Hara didn't even try. She simply closed the shutters, drew the curtains and put Niall to bed as if he was a child, covering him with a sheet.
"Now sleep, little one." She said quietly, and went.
But oblivion, so much desired, was a long time coming. Niall was too tense, too alert, every distant quiet noise of an occupied house assailing his ears in stereophonic sound, and his eyes constantly returning to the door, scared that it would open to admit him.
Because how could he ever bear to face Zayn again - even if he didn't want - want...?
But there was no question of that, he assured himself. He would let him go now. He had to. He'd surely paid for what he'd done so there was no reason for him to keep Niall any longer. Not when he would never provide him with the kind of entertainment he required.
He burrowed deeper into the mattress. Shivering. How could he have allowed himself to be used like that? He would make sure that no man ever got close enough again to treat him in the same way. he would rather remain celebrate for the rest of his life.
He slept at last, deeply and dreamlessly, and woke to find vivid sunset light falling in slats across the floor.
For a moment he wanted to say where he was. To ask for his dinner to be served up in this room. Except Zayn might join him, and Niall could not risk that.
Behave as this was any other evening, he thought, gritting his teeth as he pushed the sheets back. As if nothing had happened between you. Or nothing that mattered anyways.
He washed and cleaned his teeth, then swept back his hair and plaited it into one long braid before dressing in the daisy skirt and cotton top he'd rejected only that morning, and not the lifetime ago that it seemed.
As he descended the white sweep of marble stair, he looked across the statue of Persephone.
"Mr. Horan." He realized with a start that Liam had appeared, and was waiting for him at the foot of the stairs. "Mr. Malik wishes to speak to you in his study."
How totally incongruous that sounded, he thought, as he nodded briefly and followed Liam. As if he was being summoned to the school principal's office for a reprimand.
He was taken to a room at the rear of the house, overlooking the swimming pool.
Zayn was sitting at a massive desk, checking a sheaf of papers in front of him. As Niall entered he put down his pen and rose to his feet. He was wearing white jeans that hugged his lean hips, topped by a dark red shirt, open nearly to the waist.
It was almost the same color as the robe he had worn earlier, and for a moment Niall paused, his memories holding him captive.
Don't let him see, he repeated silently. Don't leet him see...
"Mr. Horan." Zayn's voice was coolly courteous, as if, for him, those brief tumultuous moments in Niall's bedroom had never happened. "Please have a chair. "
Not a rebuke after all, he told himself, a bubble of hysteria building inside him as he seated himself opposite Zayn. But something that seemed more like a job interview.
He opened a drawer in the desk and extracted the UK passport which had been taken from Niall by Liam before he left Ireland. He flicked it open, studied the blonde's photograph, then skimmed through the other pages. He put it down and looked at Niall.
Zayn said quietly. "Niall Horan. So you are related to him and never his mistress as you appeared to be.' He paused. Levaux told me there was a story that you were his nephew which no one seemed to believe. Is it perhaps true ?"
Niall hesitated, then shook his head, realizing that there was little point in persisting with the fabrication. He said. "Not his nephew. His - his son. "
"Son?" The word was almost explosive. He leaned forward, resting clenched fists on the desk, the dark eyes blazing. 'You say you are his son? Is he quite mad? What kind of a father is he to treat his own child in such a way - expose his son to such dangers ? Such shame ?"
Niall smoothed a non-existent crease from his skirt. "Perhaps a desperate one."
"That is an excuse?"
"No," Niall said. "A reason, but not one that a man with your money could ever understand."
"You are wrong." He bit back at Niall. " wealth does not make one immune from desperation or any other condition of the human spirit." He shook his head. "And your mother permitted him to do this? How is it possible?"
"No." There were tears thick in his throat, and he swallowed them back. "I started travelling with Daddy after my mother died. He said he - needed me."
Zayn muttered something harsh and ugly under his breath then sat down, glancing at the passport again. "You are - eighteen?"
"Almost nineteen."
"A child still."
"Hardly that," Niall said. "Any longer."
Zayn's mouth tightened. Then, "A child," he repeated coldly. "Whose innocence he chose to barter. It is beyond belief. Beyond decency. How could he do such a thing?"
"He is a gambler." Niall said slowly. "He was on a winning streak, and facing the opportunity of a lifetime. It probably didn't occur to him that he could lose. It rarely did, even when he could afford to do so." He paused. "And of course he didn't know how heavily the odds were stacked against him."
Zayn said softly. "The final hand. You think perhaps I cheated? I did not."
"What does it matter - now ? What does anything matter?" Niall lifted his head and looked at Zayn. "And who are you to dare talk of decency? If you'd had even a streak of humanity you wouldn't have enforced that bet no one could possibly sink that low."
Zayn said slowly. "Lucas lied when he said that you had given him your body but did he lie about the rest? Did you lure him to be cheated at that card game?"
"Yes." Niall bit his lip. "He - he told you the truth about that."
"And was it your own idea or the suggestion of your father that you should do this?"
Niall swallowed. "Not - just him."
"Then your answer is yes, and he deserved to be punished in the way I had chosen," he said flatly. "Even thought I thought I was taking his pillow friend, not his son."
"And if you'd known?" Niall said. "If he'd told you - appealed to you- would it have made any difference?"
There was a silence, then Zayn said. "No, Niall love, on reflection, it would not. On the contrary it would have taken my revenge on him to another dimension - to watch him realise exactly what he had lost and suffer."
Niall said breathlessly. "You think he isn't suffering now - knowing the hell he's condemned me to and unable to help me?"
"If so, he is being tortured in comfort, Niall, as you are yourself." Zayn's mouth curled. "It seems your father left Ireland in the company of Mrs Van Dyne. I am told she is a rich New York socialite."
Niall stared at him.
"I don't believe you." He said at last, his voice uneven. "If it was true - if he's alright - why hasn't he come to find me?"
Zayn shrugged. "Perhaps because he would have to reveal your true relationship to his new companion and it is not convenient for him to do so at this time." His glance was measuring. "Would you have told me of it if you were still a virgin? I think not."
Niall stared down at his hands, tightly clasped in his lap.
"Well now you've punished both of us, and your revenge is complete. So you don't need to keep me any longer."
"Our views are necessarily different. And I have no intention of allowing you to leave," he added softly. "At least not until I have had everything I want from you. And how long that will take, only you can decide."
Niall said huskily, "I-I don't know what you mean."
"Begin thinking like a rational person," he said, "and it will soon become clear. Which brings me to something I must ask you. Assuming now that I know you have a vagina instead of a penis and your total lack of experience, does it extend to the use of birth control as well? You do not have to speak." He added as embarrassed color stormed into Niall's pale face. "Just nod or shake your head."
He watched the tiny movement of confirmation and signed. "As I thought," Zayn commented, half to himself. "And does it also follow that you have no wish to bear me a child?"
Niall looked up quickly, his eyes blank with horror as he met Zayn's frankly sardonic gaze.
"Again I have my answer," the Pakistani murmured. "So I shall take the responsibility of your protection. When, of course, your body has had the time to recover from it's recent ordeal." He added courteously.
Niall said hoarsely. "Am I expected to thank you?"
Zayn shrugged. "Perhaps, one day, you may be grateful." He got to his feet. "And now I must return to the tasks I neglected earlier. We will meet again at dinner, Niall love." He paused. "when you will choose something to wear from the clothes I have brought you. They have all been returned to your room - even those you threw in the garden."
Niall rose, too, and faced him, lifting his chin. "I would prefer not to."
'But it is not your preference that is under consideration," he said. "And if you continue to defy me I shall dress you with my own hands." Zayn's smile grazed his features. "It will be no hardship believe me. The reality of you naked exceeded anything I had imagined."
He watched the heated color swamp Niall's face, his smile widening.
"And to know that I will be the firs to enjoy you completely is an undreamed pleasure of also," he told the blonde softly. "I look forward to the moment."
He sat down, reaching for the papers he'd been reading earlier.
"Until later, then." Zayn added, as Niall turned and headed blindly for the door.
An/ once again apologies for the delay in updating. Please ginore any grammatical error or gender reversals made by me. I did not proof read it.
ON A GOOD NOTE, I'M HOME FOR TODAY AND TOMORROW SO THAT MEANS I CAN UPDATE MORE UNTIL MONDAY THAT IS. IT FEELS SO GOOD TO BE BACK HOME!
MY 18TH BIRTHDAY HAS BEEN BORING BUT I AM GLAD THAT I GOT TO SPEND IT WITH MY FAMILY!
Apart from this:
Thoughts on the chapter ?
Thoughts on Zayn finding out that Niall is a virgin?
Thoughts on Zayn discovering the relationship between niall and bobby?
Thoughts on bobby eloping with Mrs van dyne ?
Thoughts on zayn still keeping niall with him?
Do you think Zayn has some feelings for niall or is it all just a game for him?
What's going to happen next?
NEXT UPDATE WHEN THIS CHAPTER GETS 90+ VOTES AND 90+ COMMENTS !
Random question: when is your birthday ?