Ella's POV
His hands roam my body, and his nails dig into my skin as he grips my sides. I've subconsciously been wanting this ever since I laid eyes on him. Ever since I noticed the tattoos peeking from beneath his black sweater, or the silver metal ring pierced his lip. Although the night I saw him with the two girls in white towels is a night I'd rather forget, I can't forget how attractive he was dripping wet, draped in ink.
I arch my back against the silk black sheets, as his lips drag across my neck and collarbones. His shirt is still on, and I have no fucking idea why because my chest is practically exposed to him yet he remains covered.
"This," I tug at the hem of his shirt. "Needs to go."
He pulls away from me suddenly, and yanks the shirt off his body exposing every tattoo.
"Better?" He asks, his chest moving rapidly.
"Much better." I close my eyes, as he drags his index finger down my stomach, teasing the waistline. "Zayn, when I said tease me, I didn't mean it." I whine, just wanting him to speed up this process.
"I take my job seriously love." He leans down, and presses his lips to mine. He slowly pulls the black denim of my skinny jeans down my legs, and tosses them on the carpet. His hand presses against my underwear and I gasp at the the sudden contact. He slips his tongue into my mouth, and I'm not sure how long this'll last. My senses are all blended together, and I can't think straight. Pure pleasure and euphoria course through my veins as he continues to touch me.
I force myself up off the bed, and flip us over, so he's pinned against the mattress. Something tells me he's someone who would be dominant, or controlling in sex. And I'm willing to see if that's true.
He stares up at me, bright lustful brown eyes peering into mine. The brightness from the moonlight is washed over with the darkness of his need for me. He grabs my waist forcefully and flips me back over and hovers over me.
His hands reach around my back, pulling me close to him but I feel my bra come undone. I take it from his hands, and fling it across the room. Our lips are still connected, as he torturously drags his hands over my chest down towards my underwear. He hooks his fingers around the waistline, and slowly drags them down my legs.
"You're beautiful, in every way." He whispers in my ear.
A sudden vibration interrupts between us, and I pause to glance around the room. The vibration continues to sound around us, noticeably close to my ear.
"Is that your phone?" I ask, propping myself up on my elbows.
"Yeah, but it's fine. Ignore it." His voice is curt, yet his actions attempt to cover his sudden mood change.
His lips brush against mine, but I pull away quickly as the phone continues to vibrate obnoxiously in my ear. I gently push him away, and roll over to reach for his phone.
"Ella no do-"
"Whoever it is, obviously needs to speak to you. Here, just answer it." I shrug, smirking at him. I glance down at the screen to see James name pop up next to the stone face emoji.
"James?" I ask, confused as to why he would speak to someone he doesn't really care for. Zayns eyes aren't meeting mine, and I realize what he's staring at. I cover my chest with my free arm, grabbing his attention.
Men are disgusting, yet are able to be dangerously attractive.
"What?" He looks up at me.
"I said, James? Why is he calling?" I ask once again.
Zayn plops down on the mattress, exhaling deeply. He turns his head towards me, holding out his hand. I place the phone in his palm, and leave to pick up my bra and sweater.
"I would prefer you leave those off." He calls to me, teasingly.
"Yeah well, I would prefer to have sex with you. We don't always get what we want do we?" I retort, earning a laugh from him as I pull the sweater over my head.
"If you didn't make me answer this phone call, I would be fucking you right now. Don't be sassy." He scolds playfully, smiling and I feel my heart twist at the sight.
I simply shake my head, and pull the door open.
"Hold on James," he says, and turns to me while covering the speaker of the phone with his hand. "Your pants? You can't walk around like that in front of me. What the fuck?" He motions towards my bare legs.
"No, I fancy the way the cold air hits my skin." I flip my hair, and hear him mumble profanities to himself and at James as I walk out, and into the living room.
The city lights decorate the darkness, and I'm left in awe as I stand, half naked, in front of the window.
I can hear Zayn, and his colorful language, all the way from here as he rips James apart for interrupting us. Although, I find it cute somehow even if I am sexually frustrated as hell. I stalk over to the kitchen, tugging my sweater down but barely making it past my ass. I search his pantries for the box of tea bags, finally pulling down what happens to be my favorite kind.
A few minutes later, I place the bag inside a steaming hot mug and let the scent of honey vanilla chamomile fill my senses. I carry the mug over to the couch, and turn on the tv to distract myself from thoughts of Zayn and what James could possibly want.
Five minutes into an episode of Criminal Minds, I'm drifting off to sleep. And my subconscious creates a dreadful, vivid dream I've never wanted to have or relive.
Zayns POV
She gently shuts the door behind her, and I press the phone back to my ear.
"What the fuck could you POSSIBLY fucking want James?" I hiss angrily. This man, of all times, decides to call me when I was so fucking close to having sex with Ella. Usually, for any other fucking occasion, when I don't answer my phone more than once, he seems to get the damn picture and not call anymore. I'm raging inside, annoyed and sexually fucking frustrated.
"I'm calling about the boss. You stood him up." His voice is so calm, and I'm ready to unleash a shit load on him right now for being so passive.
"I know I stood that bastard up on purpose." I spit, trying to relax myself. I'm very well aware of my previous arrangements. I even had a plan to drop Ella off at campus after our date, but everything fucking changed. That's life.
"He's not happy about it, and has been trying to call you all night Zayn." He sighs, clearly frustrated with me.
"James, do tell me," I lick my lips swiftly. "Does your phone, and his, come with an ignore button? Or am I the only fucking one?"
He laughs, and for some odd reason it sends chills down my spine.
"Fuck the girl, and afterwards when your fucking balls aren't swollen, call either me or the boss back. I'm sure he'd love to hear about this, but I'd rather not." He hangs up immediately, and I'm left in silence.
I take a moment to myself, absorbing my surroundings. Since when did this room become so fucking small? Didn't I turn the air conditioning down? It's uncomfortably warmer after that conversation. I assume it's my anger swelling inside of me, and I need to leave this confining space now.
I stand from the bed, pulling my black shirt over my head. I would fix my sex hair, not that I fucking had any, but I could care less.
I open the door to the living room to find Ella curled up in a ball on the couch. A mug of tea rests on the center table, still steaming and fresh. Her face twists in fear, and she flinches slightly in her sleep. I glance at the tv, and see Criminal Minds being played. The man, or murderer, is a father who is being questioned about violently killing his wife and daughter.
Fucking hell.
It dawns on me that the show is causing her to have nightmares, and relive what feels to have happened so long ago. She flinches again, slight whimpers escaping her lips as she screams in her dreams.
I run my hand through my hair, and slowly approach her. My arms wrap around her body, the wedding shit type, and I pick her up before gently cradling her in my arms. Her legs are freezing cold from exposure, so I pull the blanket off the back of the sofa and drape it over her.
"No, I fancy the way the cold hits my skin." I mock her, in a high pitch voice and smile to myself.
Her breathing slows to a normal pace as my arms tighten around her, securing her physically and mentally. Her soft whimpers fade to light snores as she sleeps peacefully in my arms. As I take in this moment, I realize I would rather have this romantic, innocent, intimacy than sexual. I can appreciate her every perfect flaw, while she's asleep or awake as she rests in the comforts of my arms. It wouldn't fucking matter to me if her hair was done neatly, or thrown messily into a ponytail. Whether she had pounds of makeup on her face, surely staining my clothes, or was bare, allowing me to see every rare bump on her face.
I can't do that though.
I can't allow myself to fall for her, or let her see that side of me. To her, I may be a man of few words, who's sarcastic and an asshole that cares much more than he ever fucking should about her.
And that's how it should always be.
A taste of a sex scene, hope that was enough....for now. *wink wink* Kay, thank you for reading! I enjoy writing sooooo much, and developing these characters :) -Natalie