Steamy Tales

Chapter 1. Her comfort

A one shot about a girl who finds pleasure and happiness in the mafia man that has emotionally hurt her numerous times.....

Ace

The moment Rory didn't push against my head anymore, I used my chance and pushed her legs farther apart. I took it all in. Her round ass cheeks, her beautiful opening and pink pussy lips, her tiny clit. I licked along her slit. I wanted to taste every inch of her. I wanted to make her come so hard tonight that she'd squirt all over the countertop This was the only form of redemption I could offer her.

Rory tugged at my hair and moaned. This was only the beginning. I curled my arms around her thighs and pulled her to the edge, then I focused on her clit. I teased it with my tongue, lick after lick, and twirl after twirl, and it peeked out more. Rory had her eyes closed, her chest was heaving, and she was breathing heavily. This didn't do.

"Open your eyes, Rory, and watch me eat you out."

She opened her eyes and flushed even redder.

I pressed my cheek against her inner thigh and rubbed her little clit with my thumb, spreading my saliva and Rory's arousal.

"You'll watch every second, understood? I want you to see me licking you, making you drip and come."

"As if I could ever forget it was you," she whispered with a hint of reproach.

I grinned because after tonight she'd definitely never forget how it was to be with me.

With my cheek still pressed against her inner thigh, I stroked the tip of my tongue along her puffy pussy lips, gently parting them to swirl her clit before I moved back down. Aurora's face was flushed as she watched me with parted lips. I pushed against her other thigh, parting her legs farther and revealing more of her pussy.

My tongue dipped between her labia again, brushing over her smooth but tight opening. Her arousal coated my tongue. I hummed and started circling that perfect little hole that had welcomed me once before.

I pulled her down on my face, sucking her clit. She cried out in surprise and pleasure as I ate her out messily, smearing her juices all over my chin and cheeks. She leaned against the counter, both of her hands in my hair, her eyes wide and disbelieving as my mouth and tongue tasted her lips, clit and opening.

Her arousal wasn't a small drizzle anymore. It coated my tongue as I stroked her opening.

Her thighs tensed, her pussy clenched, and her face contorted with pleasure, then a loud moan fell from her parted lips. I gripped her ass cheeks, my fingers digging in as I pressed her pussy tighter against my face. She shuddered, her nails scratching my scalp. Her scent intensified.

I groaned and shoved my tongue into her tight opening. Her arousal coated my tongue, and I eagerly lapped it up as I fucked her with my tongue. I wanted to claim every part of her, with my tongue, my fingers, my cock, even my fucking favorite knife. I wanted to imprint myself on Rory's body and mind.

"I can't. No more," she gasped after a while. I pulled my tongue out of her. My chin and mouth were covered in her lust. She licked her lip, her expression stunned and embarrassed.

After I'd shoved down her now soaked pajama bottoms, I gripped her hips and hoisted her back up on the counter, then pushed between her legs. My cock strained against my pants, but I had a feeling it wouldn't get its turn tonight.

"What-" Rory's eyes widened when I pushed my middle finger into her opening. She tensed, expecting pain, but despite how tight she was, and she was amazingly tight, she was so dripping wet that I slipped in easily. I looked down at my finger as it parted her pink pussy, glistening with her arousal. I curled the tip of my finger and pressed the heel of my palm firmly against Rory's engorged clit, then stopped moving.

"So tight," I said triumphantly. "Nobody's been in that pussy since me, and nobody ever will."

"I hate you," she whispered. But her eyes didn't convey hate, at least not only hate. She hated me, for good reason, and probably herself too. I was familiar with hate, with its ambiguity. It was the emotion dearest to my heart. It was also an emotion I'd never manage for Rory.

"I know," I murmured and dipped my head. I lowered my gaze from Rory's fiery eyes to my finger still buried deep. I opened my hand so my palm no longer pressed against her clit and darted my tongue out to caress it, then I moved lower and licked around my finger, teasing her sensitive flesh.

She tugged harder at my hair. Maybe she hated this power I held over her body, but not enough to stop me. If she knew how much power her existence held over my body and mind, she'd realize I was the doomed one in this.

I could have watched her forever, the subtle rocking of her hips as they met the thrusts of my finger and my teasing tongue. Her pants, the heaving of her chest, and flushed state of her face.

Soon, she shook with her second orgasm. She would have been so ready for me to fuck her.

"I need to be inside you."

"You're crazy," she said.

Crazier than she thought. "I hurt you."

"You did," she confirmed.

"That's why I'm not going anywhere near you with my cock." Not tonight.

She frowned, distrust battling with curiosity on her face.

"But I need to claim you. Fuck, it's all I can think about. You know you're mine. I don't even remember our first night properly, and I want to make up for it. Tonight, I want to be the one to bleed and hurt as I claim you."

Her confusion only grew. I couldn't blame her, and I wasn't sure she wouldn't run away screaming if she found out what I had in mind. Fuck, I wouldn't even blame her, but this idea wouldn't leave me since I'd dreamed about it a few weeks ago. It was the perfect way to give Rory pleasure and me pain, and to claim her with a part of me that wasn't part of my body.

I unsheathed my knife.

Rory's eyes widened in alarm.

I flung the knife in the air and caught the blade. My grip was still loose, but the sharp blade already scratched at my skin.

"This is insane," Rory whispered, but she hadn't moved. If she was frozen from shock or anticipation was also in the mix, it was hard to tell. She only watched me with utter shock. I licked over her thigh, then I raised the intricate leather handle of my knife to her pussy.

"This is calf leather. It's soft, and the embossing will massage your inner walls. It's smaller than my cock, so it'll be perfect." I slid the round handle end over Rory's opening, coating it with her juices before I parted her with it and rubbed it over her clit.

Rory was frozen as she watched. I rubbed round and round over her clit, watching her face, loving the lust and fear there. Fear not of me.

Fear of what I made her desire. Fear of the forbidden. But fuck, the forbidden fruit was always the sweetest.

"I'm taking you to hell with me, Rory. I warned you, but you wouldn't listen. Now it's too late."

I slid the leather handle lower and pressed it against her opening. There was a hint of resistance before her walls gave in and allowed the first inch inside her pussy.

"Fuck," I groaned as I watched the pink of Rory's pussy against the black leather of my knife.

Rory shook her head, still shell-shocked. "You're bleeding," she gasped.

I lowered my eyes from her face to my hand gripping the blade. A droplet of blood meandered over my wrist, and the hint of burning told me my knife had cut through the thick layer of my calluses.

"If it hurts you, it should hurt me as well," I rasped as I moved the handle up and down, still only an inch in.

"That's insanity," she whispered. "And it doesn't even hurt. It just stretches me."

"Last time, it hurt. Don't worry about me, Rory. Just relax and feel. Really feel the leather inside you."

She shook her head but didn't protest. I pushed a bit deeper and leaned forward to lick her clit. She panted as I circled my knife handle and her sensitive flesh.

I'd buried this blade, and many other blades, in so many people, had relished in their cries, but claiming Rory with my knife handle, giving her pleasure with the very thing that only brought pain to others, and receiving pain through my own blade as I gave her pleasure, that would go down as a highlight in my life.

RORY

I would go to hell for this. No doubt.

I wasn't sure why I wasn't screaming and running away.

Why I was sitting here, watching as Ace fucked me with his knife.

It shouldn't feel good. But it did. The way Ace watched me with rapt attention and pure hunger sent spikes of lust through my body I'd never experienced before.

He brushed the rounded handle along my seam back and forth. "You're very quiet. I take that as a good sign," he mused. "Now that your body has handled the first shock, I'm going to fuck you properly with my knife so you bathe my handle and mouth with your lust."

He gripped the blade harder and pushed the handle farther into me. "Is that a yes?"

I panted but didn't reply. I couldn't agree to this. I couldn't push him away either. I was lost between my desire to let this happen and my conscience telling me to stop it.

He pushed in slowly until the handle was about halfway inside me and became thicker, then closed his mouth over my clit again. I relaxed as pleasure surged through me from his tongue's magic work. I loved the soft feel of it, the heat of Ace's breath on my pussy. My inner walls were very sensitive from my orgasm, and the softness of the leather soothed and teased them at the same time.

"More," Ace murmured, and I hissed as he pushed deeper, my opening stretching around the growing girth of the handle. I hadn't been penetrated by more than my own finger and Ace's tongue and finger since he took my virginity.

My chest clenched with memories of the night and guilt over what was happening now. Ace's tongue circled my clit, then stroked along my opening and lower. My eyes rolled back, and lust overrode guilt. I swallowed thickly, as stretching turned to a subtle pain as the handle conquered more of my pussy.

"Rory."

I lowered my head.

His dark eyes hit me. "Don't fight the pain. Savor it. Relax. Accept it."

I tried to do what he said, and when the handle was all the way inside me, I breathed out. Ace leaned back slightly, his chin shiny with my juices, and watched my pussy. His fist curled around the blade, pressed against my pussy. Ace uncurled his fingers. They were covered in blood and so was the blade.

I closed my eyes. I couldn't own up to the reality of it, to how good the leather felt inside me, of how sexy his reaction made me feel.

"Damn, Rory, seeing my knife sticking out of your tight pussy makes me horny as fuck. You can hate me all you want." My heart pounded in my chest. "Do you want to come all over my knife, Rory?" Ace asked in a low, strained voice.

"No."

"No?" he murmured. He began to fuck me slowly with the hilt. In and out, slowly, gently. The leather caressed me, the end brushed a sweet spot deep inside me, and then his tongue brushed along my clit. My breathing hitched.

Lust dripped out of me as my body rang with sweet pleasure. I was getting closer.

I put my hand on Ace's head, wanting to push him away, but his lips closed around my clit and began sucking, and I didn't.

I swallowed harder. Hating myself, hating him for what he made me lust for.

"Rory, look at me."

I opened my eyes, and I shuddered with another wave of arousal. The intensity of Ace's gaze, the friction of the leather inside me, and his lips massaging my clit were all too much. My hips rocked against the knife, against Ace's mouth, wanting more even if it was already too much.

"Almost there," Ace growled. I gripped the counter as my heels pressed into the cabinet, and my toes curled. My pussy began to contract around the knife. He pulled back, rubbed my clit with his thumb, his face still close to my aching flesh.

I came, my body convulsing uncontrollably. Lust dripped out of me, ran down my ass, and gathered under me. Ace watched me with a smile that made me shiver. He leaned forward, his tongue following the trails of my arousal. I shuddered harder as another wave of pleasure captured me.

My chest heaving, I froze. Slowly, Ace pulled the hilt out of me, causing me to tremble again. He regarded the handle with utter triumph. The leather was covered with my juices and a hint of something darker. He darted his tongue out and licked the pink off. "A hint of blood."

I shook my head but couldn't say anything. Then he pushed to his feet and held the hilt up to my mouth. "Taste your pussy." I parted my lips, unable to resist Ace's commanding tone.

The tangy aroma of my arousal hit my tongue. His gaze became all-consuming, making my core clench again, even if I'd just come hard. "Suck it clean like you've been dreaming of doing with my cock." My eyes grew with indignation. Of course, I'd dreamed about Nevio, and only very few of these dreams had been nightmares.

"Come on, Rory. Show me what you'd do to me."

I closed my lips around the handle, took more of it into my mouth, and hollowed my cheeks as I sucked on it. I gave it my all under Ace's watchful gaze. Swirling my tongue across the tip of the handle, then sucking it into my mouth. How had my fury led to this?

His erection pressed against his pants, and I couldn't help but smile triumphantly around the handle.

Ace gripped my neck and leaned in, his lips brushing my ear. "That's what you do to me, Rory," he rasped.

He moved back and slowly pulled the knife handle out of my mouth, then he brought it to my pussy once more. He gently slid it all the way in, and I released a shaky breath because I couldn't take any more, even if it felt good. He extracted it once more and regarded the leather once again covered in my release.

Chapter 2. Sensual touch

Ryan

I broke away from our kiss and took in Allison's state. Our heavy breathing filled the room, our lips swollen from the kiss. My hair was rough from how hard she had been pulling it.

She walked to the bed, an extra sway in her hips. And then leaned back on her elbows, waiting for me. I didn't hesitate in making my way to her, I knew what she wanted.

I got down on my knees, her bathrobe had ridden up exposing her creamy thighs. Placing gentle kisses on each of them before parting her legs. She sucked in a sharp breath when I ran my finger across her slit, and I chuckled at her reaction.

She fell back onto the bed, and I took my mouth closer to her pussy, desperate to taste her. I let my tongue run across her slit and opening, teasing her.

Her hand makes a quick grab of my hair, when I shove my tongue inside her.

"Oh, bloody hell," she exclaimed loudly and tugged on my hair. I don't relent, as I added a finger and play with her clit. I teased the sensitive nub, causing her to jerk a little and moan. "Ryan, please."

I changed pace and direction, licking, sucking, and using my fingers some times. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she moaned wantonly as all sense of self-consciousness was replaced by pleasure.

Slowly, I dipped a finger inside of her and she sucked in a breath, as if startled by the new sensation.

My lips pressed against her clit, gentle and warm. I watched as she relaxed a little.

I let her get used to it, and then I used my tongue to flick over the nub, causing her to gasp.

I rubbed and flicked her clit it again, I wanted her to feel just how good my tongue and fingers could make her feel. "I'm gonna cum!" She cried out before exploding all over my fingers. Her body racks with pleasure, and her grip on my hair loosened as she rode out her orgasm.

After she had recovered from her first orgasm, she hastily took off my bathrobe and tossed it.

Allison gawked at my naked form and licked her lips, as if just seeing me for the first time. She looked away long enough, for her to take her robe off, and I was equally mesmerized by her body.

I wanted her so bad it hurt. "I want you so fucking bad, baby." I whispered as I stroked my length slowly.

I was kneeling above her while she stared up at me. My fingers slide in and out of her, and her lips parted as she let out a moan. I used one hand to finger her, while the other stroked my cock as she watched.

"Fuck, I can't wait anymore, you feel so good around my fingers. I need you." I muttered desperately before spreading her legs. Before she could respond, I claimed her with my mouth.

She wrapped her legs around me, pulling herself as close to me as she could. I could feel my cock against her inner thigh.

My whole body felt like it was on fire with desire. I wanted to be inside her so bad.

And it seemed the anticipation was driving her wild also because she pulled back from the kiss. "Ryan, I want all of

you, please."

"Relax, baby. You're so tight." I muttered.

"I want you deep inside me, please."

"Oh, god, you have no idea how sexy it is to hear you say that."

I grabbed her ass and angled myself so I was positioned better. I pushed up against her entrance and she dug her fingernails into my back.

"More," Allison said.

I kept one hand on her ass, but I grabbed the back of her head with the other, pulling her in for a much softer, more gentle kiss.

"Fucking hell! You feel so good, baby. You take me so well." I groaned, increasing my pace and thrusting into her.

She felt too fucking good. I wanted more of her.

"Yes, yes..." she chanted. "Don't stop," Allison moaned and the way her sultry moans filled my ear made me increase my pace.

Pounding into her so hard, the sound of our skins slapping filled the room.

The way she moaned... goddamn. I could come to the mere sound of her. Allison's lips fall open, and she looks into my eyes as pure pleasure rocked her body, her pussy clamping down on my cock viciously. "Ryan," she moaned and tightened around me. And I'm certain she's about to come again.

My finger returned, circling around her clit as I continue to thrust into her. I was gentle and slow.

Combining the new sensation with the movement of my finger on her clit. I noticed her breathing grow rapid, and I could feel her tighten even more around my cock as the pressure of another orgasm built.

All of the sudden, I added another finger close to her spinchter. Teasing the area but not inserting my finger. Her eyes widened and she gasped. Her hand grabbed the sheet so hard, as I overwhelmed her with pleasure. I thrust my cock deeper so it reached a place that made her back arch. She gasped again as a jolt of pure sensation rushed through through her. "I'm coming!" She cried out with pleasure as she coated my cock with her come.

"So fucking good," I moaned, my forehead falling to hers. Her pussy is like a hot, soft vice, enveloping my cock perfectly. I hold as still as I can to give her a chance to recover from her orgasm.

Almost immediately, feel my orgasm building. I placed my hand under her thighs, lifted them up and began to thrust faster into her. "Ah, fuck! I'm gonna come. Fucking hell!" I grunted and groaned loudly as my balls tightened and my thrusts became slow. I pulled out immediately and stroked my cock until ropes of my come fell on her lower stomach.

Third POV

Andrea couldn't wait to leave this party. As she gathered her things and made her way to the double doors exit.

Dante gave her a curt nod. Not wanting to

make it weird, Andrea bid him goodnight and headed back into the

house, completely through with the night.

What she needed was sleep, good sleep and when she woke up this nightmare would seem

better.

Climbing the stairs, thankfully not

encountering anyone else on the way, she went to her room, unlocking the door. She entered, pushing the door behind her. But

the sound of wood hitting wood never came.

Andrea stilled, turning around to see Tristan Caine holding her door open, leaning against

the doorjamb.

Oh no. No, nopity, nope. She was not in the

mood to deal with him tonight.

Ignoring his ass, she turned again and went

to the dresser, dropping her heels on the side.

The door shut behind her.

Locked.

From the way her body was reacting, she knew he was still in the room. "Nice dress."

Her hands paused over her earring, her eyes

watching as his reflection joined hers in the mirror. "Thanks," she

responded, taking her earring off. "Zayn sent it as a welcome

gift."

His eyes flared in the reflection. Score

one. He took a step closer, his presence almost behind her. "Did you enjoy the buffet?"

Andrea inhaled deeply, keeping her eyes on

him. "I've only seen the dishes so far. But from what I've seen, I'm certain they taste really good."

Before she could blink, she was pressed

against the mirror, her head pulled back with his hand in her hair.

Their eyes collided in the mirror, his breath on her neck, warm,

soft.

His chest pressed against her back, expanding with every breath he took, syncing her own breathing to match. Her heart

started to hammer, blood rushing under her skin, her entire being

thrilled at making him snap, at making him react.

"Look at all the dishes you want, wildcat,"

whiskey and sin poured down her ear and dripped into her body, "but

the only dish filling you up is right here."

Andrea fought back a moan at the way his

teeth grazed her ear, his eyes hot on hers. "I don't share."

His hand tugged her head a bit, his nose

inhaling her. "Neither do I."

Stalemate. They were both breathing heavily.

And then she remembered there were listening devices in the room, the same devices he had his security install and monitor daily.

Stalker.

"They can hear us," she reminded him.

"Let them," he stated, his nose running along

her neck. "Let them also listen to what I'm going to do to anyone who touches you." His hand left her hair, coming to the front

of her neck, holding her as he did, her pulse drumming against his palm. "I'll break every single finger of the hand that touches you," he whispered, writing death over her skin as she looked at them in the mirror, her nipples hard as though his words caressed them, his big form behind her. "Then, I will slit their throat just on the surface, letting them bleed and howl while I skinned them alive,"

he continued, making her shudder both in fear and pleasure, his eyes blazing on her, his hand simply holding her by the throat. "And then I will set them on fire."

She felt owned. "And what if I want them to

touch me?" she asked the same question she'd asked Zayn.

His lips twitched, his hand pressing her

closer to his body. "You won't."

"How do you know?"

"Because," he leaned into her neck, his lips

ghosting over her skin as he spoke, "you come alive only for me."

Andrea shivered, her toes curling into the

carpet as her jaw trembled. He was right.

Not wanting to be left a step behind, Andrea

boldly rubbed her hips against his, feeling him harden against her

back, and declared. "Mine."

And for the first time since she had known

him, she saw a smile crack his face. It was small, just a little curve of lips, but it was genuine and it was there. And it tilted

her world on its axis because he had a dimple.

He.

Had.

A.

Fucking.

Dimple.

She stared at it in surprise, somehow thrown

by such a simple thing, wondering who had been the last person to see that dimple.

Their eyes, still locked together, had an

entire conversation in themselves. His smile dropped slowly by degrees and she shook her head, raising her hand behind her in the

mirror, feeling the scruff brush against her palm for the first time.

That pushed him over the edge. His other hand pulled the dress up and over her ass as she bent forward, giving him room to move, their eyes connected the entire time. She felt

his fingers between her legs, testing her wetness. She was dripping.

"Clean?" She felt the weight of that one word question in his husky whisper. She knew it would change things, knew it was

one step closer together. Wordlessly, she nodded. He nodded his own answer.

Just as wordlessly, she felt the tip of him

behind her. She went on her toes to get level, canting her hips to ease access for him as his fingers left her, going to under her

knee and pulling it up.

She balanced her feet on the edge of the dresser, the other held up on her toes with his strength. His other hand stayed steady on her throat as his eyes stayed steady on hers.

She realized it would be the first time she would actually see him when he entered her, the first time he would enter her naked.

Anticipation built, her heart thudding in her

ears, her skin aware of everywhere they touched and aware of every breath he took.

And then he thrust into her suddenly.

A loud yelp escaped her as the dresser banged

against the wall, her mouth opening on a pant as her walls welcomed

him in.

The fact that there were listening devices all over the

room, the fact that he didn't care, and neither did she, the fact that just the banging of the dresser would have made people in the

house aware of what was going on sent a thrill down her spine. Their eyes on each other, understanding passing between them, he pulled her flush against him, his cock

lodging itself deeper inside her, sending heat through her body.

He pulled out almost completely, her walls quivering with the loss, before he plunged in, harder. The dresser banged into the wall

louder. She moaned, her breaths escalating and his roughened, her muscles clenching around him like a vise. His hand left her knee, going to her throbbing clit, rubbing.

Her eyes fluttered close on the onslaught of

sensation.

"Name," he growled. Her eyes opened slightly,

finding his, confused. "Say my name."

Her heart stopped. She gulped, aware of him

pulsing inside her. His fingers flexed on her throat, so big he encompassed it, the sense of danger and safety mingling together in a heady concoction.

"Mr. Caine," she whispered, her eyes glued to

his.

He took the skin of her neck between his

teeth, tugging. "Name."

"Tristan Caine," she muttered.

He pinched her clit, making her hips rock

involuntarily. "Tristan," she sighed, her hands holding the dresser tightly.

He rolled his hips, almost blacking her out

with the sudden movement, touching her magic spot. "That's the name

you're going to be screaming for a long time, Ms. Vitalio. Remember

it."

"Stop talking and fuck me then, Mr. Caine,"

she challenged.

He complied. He started to fuck her in the

true sense of the word.

The mirror in the dresser started to shake so

much it rattled. The sound of the wood plowing a hold in the wall

matched the rhythm of him plowing into her.

Their eyes remained connected even on that shaky glass as he thrust in and out of her,

rolling his hips, alternating. Her walls squeezed him in sync, weeping and clinging to him, the friction inside her spreading fire

all over her body. Sweat coated her skin, her shuddering gasps turning into loud moans turning into small screams she could not

control anymore.

"Tristan," she panted, urging him on, moving

her hips to his, watching him. It was erotic, watching him like that, watching herself like that, both of them dressed but so, so naked.

"Louder," he ground out between clenched

teeth.

It shook her. "Tristan," she moaned louder,

feeling all the ridges on his cock, could feel those pulsing veins, all naked inside her for the first time. He started to rub her clit

harder, his hips picking up speed, her knees knocking against the wood as she balanced herself on the toes of one feet and the knee

of the other, his hand around her throat holding her up and level.

It wasn't too tight but firm enough to make her feel completely

surrounded, completely owned in that moment. She owned him right

back, keeping him trapped inside her with every push.

Slowly, the fire in her body concentrated on her burning core, her entire body

shaking as she started getting light-headed from the overload of sensation.

And then she felt his teeth on her neck.

Hard.

She exploded, screaming as her knees buckled, her balance forgotten, her walls releasing like never before, her

heartbeats through the roof, so loud she could feel them thundering everywhere in her body.

She could feel her own wetness running down

her thighs, her eyes seeking his magnificent blues as she watched her come, committing everything to memory.

He pulled out all of a sudden, pushing her

down over the dresser, and she saw him stroking his erection in his

fist, his face twisting into agonized pleasure as he exploded over her back, his come pooling on the dress. Andrea watched,

fascinated, still reeling from her own pleasure, listening to that growl leave his chest as he jerked off for a few seconds, milking out every drop, exhaling.

His eyes, which had closed, opened again and

found hers. He tucked himself back in, zipping up.

Andrea straightened slowly, watching as his hands came to her breasts for

the first time. Not to touch, no. He still didn't touch her breasts even as her nipples strained towards his palms, aching with a

hunger only his fingers could satiate. He never did.

He just took the neckline of her dress in both hands and ripped it apart in one

go, the sound of the tearing fabric loud in the room. He stared at her for a long minute, his eyes never wavering down to her bra, now

completely exposed in the dress that hung on her only by the sleeves.

Gently, silently, he took the sleeves down

and pushed the dress to the floor. "Get rid of the dress."

With that growled command, he turned on his heel and walked out, locking the door behind him with a click.

Andrea blinked, all of it too quick for her

to process. What the hell had just happened?

Her gaze drifted down to the discarded green

dress that Zayn had sent her. It was ripped, tattered and had his semen drying on it. A slow smile teased her lips the longer she

stared at it.

A laugh escaped her, the situation suddenly funny.

Picking it up, she walked to the bin in the bathroom and threw it

in.

Humming quietly to herself, she turned to wash her hands and looked at herself in the mirror. Her eyes lingered on the red mark

on the side of her neck where he'd hickey-ed her.

She touched the mark gingerly, the smile on her face full-blown now.

She didn't know if he would acknowledge them tomorrow or revert to his usual self.

She might not be hundred percent certain about what the fuck she and Tristan were doing but she mattered. She mattered to someone. And he had started to matter a great deal to her.

And tomorrow, as they said, would be a new day.