The Little Black Book of Imagines

Niall Horan Imagine 38

I push my hair off of my neck, exposing more skin. My slit is already up my thigh, thin, crisscrossed straps exposing my back. A perfect natural glow, piercing emerald eyes and a simple name, Zoe.

The hair on my neck stands and a sheen of sweat forms, he's here and close. My body always responds to him and it's both a curse and a blessing.

"We should dance." He's suddenly in my ear breathing down my neck. I cut my eyes in his direction and silently turn to walk away, but only to have him snatch me back against his solid chest and stomach. "That wasn't an offer." His Irish accent curdling each syllable.

I can't help but scoff and he grazes a hand down my side and around my bare thigh making me hitch in my breathing.

He whirls me toward the dance floor as a sensual song begins to play.

It's slow and we easily fall into the rumba, he follows my hips with his and doesn't back down from leading. He twists me, once, twice and then dips me slowly. Quickly, he turns me around so that my back is to his front. Slowly, I rock my hips from side to side as I glide my body over his, allowing mine to linger.

"I don't trust you." I breathe.

"You shouldn't."He whispers and then he spins me out allowing me to twirl independently. When I stop with a flourish he's no where to be seen.

Damn it.

He has a head start. I'm going to have to be quick about it.

I take the back stairs to the study and use a bobby pin to pick the lock. How to be a Thief 101.

When I open the door I'm rushed into the dark room and the door is closed behind me.

"Horan."

"Zed." His voice is deep not competitive. There's a line of light across his face and everything else is pitch black. His blue eyes are on fire. What is this? A smoldering Niall Horan?

"What? Did your normal fuck call in sick?"

"Shut up." He muses pulling me even closer. He's behind me one large hand on my belly the other gripping my hip. He walks me to the desk bumping into it.

"Sloppy." I whisper. He taps me on the thigh as both a warning and an instruction. I place my left knee onto the desk, my dress rising to my waist.

His hand grazes over me. I'm ready for whatever he's about to do.

"You're always ready." He breathes into my ear. "We're good together." He cups my sex holding onto it like he owns me. Which in this way, at least right now, he does. Every time.

Sliding my panties to the side he doesn't hesitate to put two fingers inside of me. He pumps slowly.

"This isn't the time for gradual eroticism." I smirk. "Unless you can't get it up?"

He pushes his fingers further hitting a wall and making me moan.

I smile when he removes his fingers and I can hear the sound of his mouth around them.

"I want my tongue on you, but if you insist on a quick fuck."

Damn it, I do.

His zipper is pulled down, and he's inside me, ignoring the notion of a condom like a proper gentleman.

When he moves he reaches for my hair but I slap his hand away. I put both hands in fist on the desk.

"Fuck." I whisper when he hits that spot. It never takes him long.

"Come on," he coax, "you can do it."

I reach back and slap one of his hands that are now holding onto my waist for dear life.

He speeds up in both tempo and breathing and I fall to my elbows onto the desk. I knock something over and throw my head back. Shit.

"Damn, Zed, come on." He whispers. When he pinches my side I start to shake. For fuck sakes, that was intense. He strains against me, becoming stiff as he comes inside of me.

"Satisfied?" I ask.

"Sorted," I can practically feel the smile spreading across his face, "for now."

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I hope you liked it.

Commenting is nice.

~Cassie♡