Page 48 of His Fury

Zayn took his time—his hands mapping my body as if he had something to memorize, as though he’d never touched me before and would forget it all if he moved too quickly. His mouth followed the path of his hands, and by the time he finally pushed into me, I wasn’t afraid anymore.

Not of him. Not of what we were. Because, honestly, itdidn’t feel like losing control. It felt like giving it to someone who already had it—who had me—and wasn’t going to break it.

Our bodies moved in rhythm, breath for breath, the silence between us broken only by the softest sounds—the catch of his breath, the quiet moan in my throat, the whispered curse when he hit deep, toying with my orgasm, edging me until I tugged his mouth back to mine, my kiss urgent and demanding as I wordlessly begged him to go faster. Harder. My legs tightened around his hips as my orgasm built, and his mouth was at my breast.

“I’m— Zayn… I’m?—”

His mouth covered mine as my climax peaked, my body squeezing around him, my nails digging into his shoulders as Zayn groaned low in his throat and drove his hips into mine one final time before following me down into bliss.

When it was over—when our heartbeats began to slow and the outside world was blissfully quiet—I curled into him, chest to chest, my cheek against his shoulder.

Zayn didn’t speak.

He just wrapped his arm around me like he knew I wouldn’t sleep unless he did. And maybe he was right. Because that night, when I finally closed my eyes, I knew I was no longer afraid.

The morning lightcame in soft and lazy, stretching across the concrete floor like it had nowhere better to be.

I blinked slowly, the edges of sleep still clinging to me like it wasn’t ready yet to let me go. Zayn’s arm was slung over my waist, heavy and warm, and I didn’t move. Not rightaway as I relished the feeling of something else unwilling to let me go just yet.

His breathing was steady. He looked younger like this. Softer.

If I’d met this version of him first, I would’ve never stood a chance.Had I ever? A small smile crossed my face at the thought. I pressed a kiss to his shoulder and slid out from under his arm, grabbing the oversized hoodie I’d tossed over the chair yesterday as I tried on some new clothes.

In the kitchen, I padded barefoot, flipping on the kettle out of habit. There was something surreal about doing everyday things in his space. Like this life wasn’t really mine, but I was pretending it could be.

The knock came sharp and fast. Three times.

I jumped and panicked, wondering who it could be and if I needed to answer it, and I hurried to the stairs in case I was supposed to be upstairs and it was someone who shouldn’t see me. The door opened before I could get there.

But it was only Rye.

He looked…annoyed. And that was putting it lightly. His sharp gaze scanned the lower floor, then settled back on me. His jaw ticked. “Where is he?”

I cleared my throat. “Still asleep.”

“He didn’t show up at the club.” He stepped fully inside, closed the door behind him, and walked past me to the kitchen. I followed him, unsure of what else to do. “We had a lot going on last night: three deliveries, a meeting he was supposed to attend, and a supplier needing hand-holding.”

“He’s—”

Zayn’s voice sliced through the air as he entered the kitchen. “He’s here now.”

Rye turned. Zayn stood shirtless, low-slung sweatpantsresting low on his hips, sleep still etched in the corners of his eyes—but the energy surrounding him had changed.

He wasn’t soft anymore. He was Zayn McCabe again.

“Didn’t know I needed to punch a clock, Rye,” he said as he moved past him and kissed my temple without missing a beat. “Morning.”

I flushed but didn’t move away. If he wanted me out of hiding, I’d be damned if I flinched now.

Rye’s eyes flicked between us. “You didn’t answer your phone.”

“I was busy,” Zayn said simply, grabbing a mug from the shelf. “What’s the emergency?”

Rye didn’t answer. His gaze lingered on me again. “You sure this is the right time for you to be—open about this?”

Zayn didn’t even blink. “There are no secrets between us. Not anymore.”

He looked at me when he said it. Like a promise. Like a warning. My heart thudded as I gave a slight nod in agreement.

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