One Direction Smut

Covetous; Niall Mature One Shot

http://thefemalehitch.tumblr.com/

My face felt hot, my blood boiling, as I stared across the club in disbelief.

Hadn’t it been a mere two hours ago when he’d called to tell me his plane was delayed? Hadn’t he said not tonight, but tomorrow night, his 13 hour flight would land? Hadn’t he moaned about how much he missed me, how he couldn’t wait to see me?

I jerked my head back towards the bar, my grip tightening on the half empty glass there. My friend who had come with me gently gripped my forearm, “Maybe we should leave.” 

My eyes flashed back towards where he stood, taking in the frosted tips of his expertly disheveled hair, the casual blazer over the scoop neck tee, the glimpse of chest it offered, hinting at the lined muscles beneath. He was laughing, his head thrown back as he casually held a beer in one hand, while the other remained shoved in the pocket of his dark wash jeans. My temper flared at the sight, and I turned to throw back the other half of my drink, barely wincing as it burned down my throat. I ignored the pleading glances of my friend and turned towards the dance floor, “Fuck him then.”

I heard the exaggerated sigh as I left her and moved my way through the pulsing bodies. When I’d reached the middle of the dance floor, as far away from him as I could be, I surrendered to the music. 

My anger melted into sensual excitement as I twisted my hips to the beat, my hands rising into the air automatically. Hands found my hips and I opened my eyes to an attractive dark-haired stranger. He was the polar opposite of the pale boy across the room, so naturally I moved closer to him. He was an excellent dancer: his hand pressed into my back, his hips twisted in time with mine, and his knees bent to slide one in between my own. 

Even as I danced with the stranger, I was conscious of being watched. My gaze flickered up to where the pale boy had been and found him glaring at our intertwined bodies. He took a swig of his beer as he watched the stranger’s hands sweep over my hips and move up my body, and then he was moving towards us, his stride calm but his eyes full of pent up rage.

My temper flared again and I twisted the stranger around so that I had my back to the pale man moving towards us. He wasn’t allowed to be angry at me for being here. I was a free woman, was I not? He hadn’t claimed me at any point over the last six months when he so often crawled into my bed.

If we’d barely left my apartment, it was his fault, and if he thought I was such a homebody when he was gone, that was his mistake. I tried new clubs every weekend. I went to them all and danced away my intoxication, trying to forget how much I missed him; how I craved his body against my own. 

The stranger was abruptly ripped away, and I stumbled in surprise. He stood there, my pale lover, angrier than I’d ever seen him. The stranger, prepared to yell, snapped his mouth shut at the murderous look in my lover’s flaming blue eyes. After the stranger stormed off, he turned his gaze to me, no longer murderous, only flaming as they took in my skin tight dress, lingering on the cut outs along my side and across my cleavage. “Dance with me.”

I shivered at the raw hunger in his gaze and stood my ground. “Like hell. Go fuck yourself, Niall.”  He cockily raised one eyebrow before shoving his beer into a passing stranger’s hand. “Hold this for a bit, thanks.” 

My hands balled into fists as his gaze turned lethal. “Dance with me.” It wasn’t a request anymore. I met his gaze with defiance, “I didn’t stutter. Go fuck yourself!” 

With that I turned on my heel to storm off, but he caught my wrist and jerked me back so that I collided with his chest. “If you haven’t noticed these past six months, I’d much rather fuck you.I spend enough of my time fucking myself, imagining your body beneath mine.”