Page 85 of Her Ruin

How ridiculously hot he was.

Not only in appearance but also in body heat; oh my lord, I was melting. I needed to breathe. I tried to inch away again, but lips nuzzled at my neck.

“Stay still, little Isla.”

“Are you awake?” I kept my voice low in case he was dreaming. I tried to turn, but all I did was firmly push myself up against every part of him.Everypart of him.

“I can be more awake if you keep doing that,” he said, his mouth moving over my shoulder. “Mmhmm, just like that, Is.” Zayn still sounded half asleep, but that didn’t stop his hand from sliding over the curve of my hip and dipping beneath the elastic of my panties.

“You’re sleeping,” I scolded, trying to bat his hand away. “And I need the bathroom.”

With a sigh, he withdrew, rolling over onto his back, not caring to adjust the covers or hide the evidence of his arousal. “Be quick, come back to bed, and wake me up properly.”

I would have been interested, but he hadn’t even opened his eyes when he spoke to me, still wrapped in that bubble of half awareness. “Sure, I’ll run and do that now, sleepyhead.”

He didn’t reply, and by the time I opened the bathroom door, I was sure he was already asleep.

If his loft was impressive, his bathroom was to die for. My mouth hung open as I shut the door. Beautiful light-gray marble fixtures with high windows that natural light just poured through. A walk-in shower took up one wall. A double vanity and shelving took up another. The toilet was behind half a partition, which had more shelving, and in the very center was the largest freestanding tub I’d ever seen. I wanted to fill it to the brim, sink into it, and never come out. However, I knew that was rude. But the shower... It had at least five jets...

Quickly taking care of business, I stripped out of the T-shirt Zayn had given me to sleep in and my underwear. The shower was enormous. It had a shower bench, and the recessed shelf had shampoo, conditioner, and shower gel. I turned the shower on, and water engulfed me from everywhere in a hard, steady beat. With a squeal of alarm, I fiddled with controls until I was under a rainwater head with soft spray coming at me from every angle.

Oh yeah, that was good. Tipping my head back, I let the water flow over me, and I let it, luxuriating in the relaxing pleasure of a hot shower.

I considered using Zayn’s shampoo andconditioner—I would be sure to make a comment aboutthatlater. Soaping myself up with a delicious black pepper body wash, I never heard him enter the bathroom. I didn’t even know he was there until my head was tipped back and Zayn started washing my hair.

Strong, dexterous fingers massaged my scalp, and it felt so good I couldn’t stop the moan of appreciation as he worked up a lather in my hair.

“Rinse,” he murmured.

I closed my eyes as he washed the suds away and then squeezed the excess water out, and my knees were weak when he deftly ran conditioner through my strands. “Should I ask where you got the skills?” I asked quietly. “Or is this part of the experience for all your sleepovers?”

Zayn tugged on my hair sharply, causing me to yelp, but it didn’t stop my grin.

“My aunt is a hairdresser,” he told me as he worked. “You think a teenager in New York doesn’t have to work to get money?”

I spun around to face him, pausing to take him in, in all his naked glory. “Damn, you are ripped,” I murmured in appreciation. “You worked in a hair salon?”

The corner of his mouth tipped up as he fought the smile. “I did,” he conceded. “For two days, but it was a weekend, and my aunt was not one to be messed with.” He held one of the showerheads over my hair. “When that woman said rinse and repeat, you did what you were told.”

I laughed at his story. It was so the opposite of anything I knew about Zayn. I reached out, and my fingers trailed down his chest, one dipping into his belly button before resting just above the V. My mouth watered as I watched his thick length engorge, and I couldn’t resist moving closer, my hand encircling him and giving a light stroke.

I looked up and faltered when I saw the heavy-lidded stare filled with lust. “Do I stop?” I asked him, my voice husky.

“Fuck no.”

He passionately kissed me, lifting me off my feet as he crushed his mouth to mine. I was carried a few steps and then lowered onto the bench in the shower. Zayn went to get on his knees, but my hands wrapping around his length stopped him. I opened my mouth, my tongue dancing over the tip of his cock.

“I’m at the perfect height,” I said with a light kiss. “Why waste an opportunity?” His groan was my answer when I took more of him into my mouth

“I hate that you do that so well,” he mumbled, his fingers threading into my hair. I pulled back, letting him free of my mouth, and I licked his length from base to tip. My tongue flicked over the head, and I wrapped my lips around him, sucking him into my mouth. His fingers tightened in my hair as I slowly took him deeper into my mouth.

I started to move my head, my tongue stroking the base of his length, and I heard Zayn moan louder. His hips moved slightly, and I tried to accommodate more of him. With my right hand, I wrapped my fingers around his base and moved my hand in rhythm to the bobbing of my head.

“Fuck, Isla,” he hissed above me. “That’s so good.” I looked up, and his head was tilted back, his eyes screwed shut. “So good.” Zayn was moving me up and down, and I loved that he was being so gentle while taking control. “Fuck,” he groaned again. “I’m going to spill down that perfect fucking throat if you don’t stop.”

I looked up, and he was watching me, eyes dark and heavy with desire. That one look had my core tightening. I sucked harder, and he growled. In one swift move, I was on my feet, turned, and bent over the bench. Zayn kicked my feet apart and then thrust into me in one smooth move, hissing with appreciation as I cried out at the sudden intrusion.

He wasn’t gentle. He was wild behind me. His hand dropped from my hip to strum against my clit. His lack of control did something to me, unleashed something in me, and I was thrusting back to meet his desperate rhythm.

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