Page 49 of His Fury

Rye exhaled through his nose, clearly not loving the answer but accepting it. “There’s pressure coming down on us from a few directions. Delaney’s crew doesn’t like how you handled Patrick. Patrick definitely isn’t happy.”

“He’s still alive, isn’t he?” Zayn muttered, taking the coffee from the fridge. “He can take that as a gift.”

“They’re wondering why.” He glanced at me again before he carried on. “They’re not the only ones wondering.”

“Let them wonder.”

Rye’s silence said plenty, his eyes on me as Zayn turned back to me, gently brushing my hair back from my face. “You good?”

I nodded, but the shift in the room was undeniable. Theworld had crept back in, dragging the weight of their lives behind it.

Zayn turned back to Rye. “You didn’t bring breakfast?”

Rye gave him a look that would have terrified me had it been sent my way. “No, I didn’t bring you breakfast, you asshole. Your housekeeper was in this morning. There’ll be food in the fridge.”

Zayn looked at the fridge and then the clock hanging over the breakfast table. “Didn’t realize it was so late,” he admitted, turning to look at me, his eyes running over my bare legs appreciatively and making me very conscious I was naked under this hoodie, and while it was too big on me, it wasn’tsobig it covered a lot of me. “I slept like a log,” he said as he watched me.

“Mmhmm, I bet you did,” Rye muttered, crossing to the coffee machine. “I’m making coffee.” He shot a glare at Zayn, who was still watching me. “I’ll make you coffee if you can stop eye fucking Isla for more than thirty seconds and concentrate on your business.”

“So I can eye fuck her for twenty-nine seconds?” he asked his friend, his top lip tugging upward, but from this angle, Rye couldn’t see it. The frustration on Rye’s face made me giggle, causing Zayn’s smile to widen.

“I’m not dealing with you two like this,” he grumbled. “I don’t get paid enough to watch this shit.”

Zayn moved closer to me, his eyes heated as he focused on my lips. “Then I suggest you don’t watch,” he murmured, and his thumb brushed over my bottom lip, a dark promise in his eyes. “And leave. I need a minute.”

Rye sighed loudly. “This is bullshit. When you’re done, I’ll be in the office.”

“Here?” Zayn asked as he pulled me into his body.

“Yes,here. I leave this house, and there’ll be no telling when you’ll be back.”

I heard him stomp away, but my eyes were fixed on Zayn, whose hand was running up my thigh, cupping my bare ass.

“Fuck, Is, if I knew you were naked under this, I’d have been fucking you against the wall a lot sooner.”

Some lust-crazed demon obviously possessed me as I leaned back against the counter, my legs parting to allow him access to my pussy, and he slid a finger inside, watching me as he filled me. “Then what are you waiting for?”

Zayn’s groan as he kissed me made me feel giddy. Strong hands gripped my hips, and I was lifted onto the counter. His kiss was dominating as his hand tangled in my hair, holding me where he wanted me, and his other hand pushed down his sweatpants, and then he was pushing into me, filling me slowly, his thumb on my clit as his hips started to move.

“You feel so fucking good,” he whispered against my lips.

I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. He was hitting me just right, and all I could do was feel. My legs wrapped around his waist, and my moan was loud when he pulled my hair, tilting my head back to expose my neck for him to kiss down it.

“God, I could hear you moan like that all day, Is.”

“It’s because of what you do to me,” I murmured, feeling his smile against my skin.

Zayn pushed me back until my back hit the counter, and then he pulled me towards him, my ass half off the surface as he picked up his rhythm. He pushed his hoodie up over my breasts, exposing them. His eyes were hooded with desire.

“Fuck, baby, look how pretty you are, open and spread for me.” He bent over me, his mouth capturing a nipple, teasing it as he fucked me slowly, torturously.

My body was on fire. I needed release. I needed him to give it to me. I needed him never to stop. My legs tightenedaround his waist, and I cried out when his thumb went back to circling my clit.

“Fuck,” he said lowly. “You’re squeezing me so good.” He continued to pump into me, and I knew I wasn’t going to last much longer.

“Zayn…I need…”

“I know.” He nodded, his chin on his chest as he watched where we connected. “I’m going to give it to you, Is.” His thumb started strumming against my clit faster, and the increase in speed was exactly what I needed. That bundle of nerves—so tightly coiled and sensitive—was being played expertly as Zayn made me his, each deep thrust hitting that perfect spot inside me with devastating precision. “Come for me, Is.”

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