Earned It • Zayn

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You know our love would be tragic, so you don't pay it don't pay it no mind mind mind.
You knew tonight would be interesting just from the hungry, sex starved look on his face when he stepped out of the murdered out SUV.
"You look beautiful this evening Y/N" The driving says shutting the door behind your suited up boyfriend. You managed to nod before you're swept away. He could barely wait for you to step into the building, before he had you pinned against the apartment complex wall. After somehow making it up two flights of stairs and through a labyrinth of hallways, to your apartment. He picks you up and carries you to the bed, stripping out of his pants on the way.
"Im going to make you feel so good tonight love." His voice, more like a growl, makes your skin explode with goosebumps. "Now lets get you out of those clothes."
Your skin is now covered in a thin layer of sweat. The only light is that from the street lamp outside your cramped apartment. Here you can leave the curtains wide open. You've both learned that this is the best place to come to escape the cameras. Its like your own personal safe haven. Somewhere you can be together without being under the eyes of paparazzi, screaming fans and pretend he isn't a mega celebrity for one night. Everyone else who lives in your building is at least 50 years old, or has a family. So no one really has the time to be tweeting about his whereabouts and peeking through windows from the fire escape catching you in the act.
"Zayn," his name leave your lips wobbly. Stubble tickles your inner thighs as he uses his mouth to tease your most sensitive places. His hands working to hold you firmly to the sheets, fingers digging into the soft skin at your hips. He really does know how to work magic. With every flick of his tongue and graze of his teeth, you can feel a familiar sensation building in the pit of your stomach.
"Zayn," it escapes your lips more like a breath this time, tickling the back of your throat on the way up. You can feel your body reacting to him. Cool air rushes up your spine as your back arches off of the sheets. Your hands go from the messed linens to his hair, grabbing on as if your holding for dear life. Looking down at his face buried between your legs, his speckled brown eyes connect with yours. The look alone sends you over the top, and now for some reason your eyes are screwed shut. Without looking you can feel his smirk against the soft insides of your thighs. Then it stops.
When you open them again he's hovering over you scanning your body, and letting his fingers trail arcross your skin. What would you do without this man. This man that knows you in and out. Who would do anything to be with you. You want to tell him. When his eyes meet yours again you want the words, 'I love you' to leave your mouth. But its better this way. He knows you love him, and you know he loves you. But not saying it seems to keep things less complicated...

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