He leans in, his breath hot on my ear. “I already did, Cleo. The moment I laid eyes on you, you became mine. And nothing, not even pack politics, will change that.”
That sends a shiver down my spine. The mix of danger and desire in his eyes is intoxicating. Our argument comes to a halt when Zayn pulls me in, his grip firm on my waist. His ice-coldgaze softens as he closes the distance between our lips with a predatory certainty. I don’t fight him this time. Instead, I allow myself to be consumed by the magnetism of his touch, the raw need radiating off him.
He tastes like temptation—addicting. A taste that instantly lights an infernal fire within me. His tongue deftly explores the contours of my mouth as if it’s territory he needs to conquer and claim for himself.
“Zayn,” I gasp into the kiss, shivering under his scrutiny, the way his eyes devour every flicker of response engraved in my features.
His hands wander down my spine, tracing each curve and dip before settling at the small of my back and pulling me closer until there’s no space left between us. I melt into him involuntarily, drunk on desire and drowning in the heated haze.
My mind whirls with conflicting emotions. On one hand, there is no denying the magnetic pull between us that defies all logic and reason. On the other, the weight of our duties and obligations threatens to suffocate any chance of happiness we might have.
I take a deep breath and meet his gaze head-on. “Zayn,” I say firmly. “We need to think about more than just ourselves. There are consequences for our actions.”
He sighs, a mix of frustration and passion evident in his eyes. “I understand that. I just don’t care,” he growls, his lips claiming mine again.
His hands grip my hips, lifting me and sitting me on the counter and after a few seconds I give in, my hands gripping his tank top to pull him closer, and I feel him smile against my lips. His lips trail lower.
My heart races as he nibbles on my jawline and ear leaving heat in their wake. His scent—masculine and wild—envelopes me entirely. My body arches into his touch in a silent plea formore when he grips the fabric of my shirt and rips it apart, revealing my lacy black bra. The cool air hits my warm skin, sending goosebumps down my spine.
I moan softly at the sensation as his lips press against my collarbone, his teeth grazing over my pulse point just enough to make it throb deliciously.
He smiles against my skin before pulling back slightly to look at me once again. “Tell me to stop, tell me you don’t want this?” I swallow thickly.
“Tell me to stop and I will,” he whispers as one of his hands finds what’s left of my shirt, pulling it upward, revealing my stomach before he peels it off. He groans softly against my skin, his warm breath tickling me as his teeth graze it playfully before nipping softly. “Beautiful,” he whispers against my neck.
Something inside me melts at his touch—it’s a feeling I’ve never experienced with anyone else. A sense of belonging and longing that makes me want to give in to him completely.
“So, what’s it gonna be?”
I open my mouth to answer, but no words come out while he waits patiently.
“Fuck it,” I growl jerking him closer and he purrs against my lips, the sound sending thrills through me. My lips crash against his, my hands moving to graze over his abs as I give in. My father will be furious but for now he won’t know. “Good girl,” Zayn mumbles against my lips, dragging me closer. He grips my thighs lifting me and I wrap my legs around his waist. The consequences I will think about tomorrow because right now, all I can think about is how good he feels.
Zayn hoists me higher as he climbs the stairs, and for a moment, I worry he’ll drop me—his mouth is on my neck, not watching where he’s going.
“Sixteen steps,” he murmurs, feeling me tense.
“I won’t drop you,” he chuckles, pulling back. I suck in a shaky breath when his eyes meet mine.
We reach the top floor. He kicks the door shut behind him, never loosening his grip. He carries me to the bed, laying me down gently, hovering above with his eyes burning into mine.
“I want you,” he groans, crashing his lips onto mine. His tongue pushes past my parted lips, desperate—matching the heat I feel for him. One hand cups my breast through my bra, thumb brushing my nipple and sending electric pulses through me. I moan as his other hand slides beneath my pants, cupping me through my panties.
He groans into my mouth at the wetness he finds, trailing kisses back down my neck.
“Zayn,” I whimper as he tugs at my pants.
“Stop. I’m not stealing your virginity,” he purrs.
I sit up on my elbows, stunned. “You’re not?”
“I’d rather you get your wolf first,” he says. “Right now, this is a fuck-it moment— you’re angry at your father.”
He leans down, kissing me again, pushing my shoulders back.
“If I’m gonna fuck you, I don’t want fear in your head. I want no one in your thoughts but me.”
“Just you?” I tease, gripping his hair.
