Half a Heart

Chapter Thirteen

It had started to pour outside, the soft pitter patter against the windows a soothing background to our heavy breaths.

I had just slid off the countertop, my skirt bunched up against my waist and my hair a mess from being knotted underneath Zayn's fingertips.

Our bodies converged once more, his mouth hungry on mine and my fingers fumbled for his zipper.

He unzipped my skirt and I stepped out of it, about to take my heels off until Zayn stopped desperately kissing my neck.

"No," he gasped, his arm against mine, "Leave them on."

I saw the familiar burn of passion ignite in his irises as my blouse and bra fell to the floor, leaving on only my heels and underwear.

His eyes devoured my body as his shirt flew off; his tattoos exposed. I bent forward, dropping to my knees, my tongue tracing patterns down his happy trail until his jeans were unbuttoned.

Eagerly, I traced my fingers up and down his stomach until his boxers joined the pile of clothes on the kitchen floor, but before I could grasp his slick hard-on, Zayn lightly pressed his finger under my chin and I rose up from the floor. Our mouths met again, this time our kiss sloppy and wet.

"As much as I'd rather fuck that pretty little mouth of yours," he whispered in my ear. I felt my core tense up, dampening between my legs. "I'd rather feel you."

His hands roamed my breasts, flicking the pads of his thumbs over my nipples until they formed stiff peaks. Gently, he placed his hands around my waist and flipped me over, so my pelvis was pressed against the countertop and my stomach was flat against the top.

Although my mind was in another place, I could barely hear the tear of a condom wrapper and the slickness of him putting it on.

Before I had time to prepare myself, I felt Zayn's hot breath against the back of my shoulder and he pushed my panties to the side, then slammed into me all at once-- the force overwhelming. "Fuck," we both couldn't help but curse at the same time.

I cried out over and over again as Zayn reached his arm forward and clasped our hands together, squeezing tight.

"You're so fucking wet for me, baby," Zayn groaned in my ear, his fingertip lazily flicking over my clit.

I couldn't do anything but squeeze my eyes shut, grazing my bottom lip in my teeth as I felt my release building up slowly.

I wasn't going to last long, but I knew neither was he.

"How does it feel?" Zayn grunted, his thrusts becoming sloppier.

"Good," I whimpered, my legs tensing. "So fucking good." I could barely get the words out. Behind me Zayn muttered, "Come with me, Brooke,"

I didn't have to be told twice.

I tightened around him, and we both came together.

Outside, the rain continued to pour.

(((holy shit omg I need jesus)))