"Why?" I breathed out, sounding needy, but not caring.
"Because, you're not thinking about this."
"So?" I moved towards him again, wrapping my hand around the back of his neck.
"So," he grabbed my hand, taking it off of his neck, but he didn't let go of my hand.
"You've just been through something." he continued, "I'm not going to take advantage of you."
"Saint Zayn back at it again." I rolled my eyes and his demeanor changed. His eyes grew darker, and his jaw clenched. I'd made him angry. Good.
The hand that was on my hip wrapped around my waist and yanked me forwards. His mouth pressed against mine harshly and I gasped, half surprised/half relieved. He bit my bottom lip again, except it wasn't gentle this time, his movements were short, fast, and angry. He pushed his tongue past my lips and I pushed back. If he thought I was just going to bow down to him in this little angry-make out session, he was in for a rude awakening. I pushed at his shoulders and moved over him, placing myself on his lap. He leaned back, resting against the arm of the couch, and both of his arms encircled me. I grabbed the back of his hair again and pulled so his jaw tilted up, well...it was more of a yank. He made a noise in the back of his throat and glared at me, his eyes so dark they were almost black.
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Before I could kiss along his jaw, he pushed me away from him. I fell back against the cushions and laid there as he positioned himself over me. He planted a kiss at the base of my neck and worked his way up to the area under my jawbone.
"Zayn." I almost cringed at the desperate way I moaned his name. His responding chuckle made my skin hum with excitement. The scuff on his jaw scratched against the skin of my neck, and I tipped my head back further, giving him more access.
What the fuck was wrong with me? Maybe I should just chalk it up to being tipsy. And hormones.
My hand moved to his shoulder, and I fisted the back of his t-shirt.
"Off." I mumbled, not able to form a complete sentence as he bit down lightly on the skin of my neck.
"No." he responded cooly, his teeth scraping against my skin again, then his mouth planting soft kissing over the spot he'd just marked with his teeth.
"You're gonna leave marks."
"I don't give a fuck." He groaned as my hand went under his t-shirt, feeling the muscles of his back. I tried to pull the hem of his shirt up again, "Off. Now."
"No."
I yanked up his shirt, done with his stupid teasing bullshit. I got the shirt to about his shoulders before he jerked away from me. His stomach was completely bare before he pulled the shirt down over himself again. I would feel ashamed...if he wasn't breathing as hard as I was, or if he didn't look as flustered as I did.
