The second the door shuts behind us, Zayne shifts into alpha mode.

“Take off your dress.”

Our eyes lock. I keep mine on him as I slowly reach for the hem of my dress. Catch it and raise it over my shoulders. Normally I’d be shy about undressing for a guy the first time, but something about the white-hot heat in Zayne’s gaze doesn’t allow for it. He wants me—bad. So why feel shy about letting him take what he wants?

I drop the dress beside me, standing in my panties and bra before him.

He paces around me in a slow circle, eyes darting up and down my body as he sizes me up. “Now take off your bra.”

I catch his eye once more, hold it while I reach back to unclasp my bra. I let it slide down my arms, and my belly tightens at the way his gaze drops to my breasts, a hungry glint in his eye. He lifts one eyebrow, allows himself a small, private grin.

“Take off your panties now.”

I lift my chin and let my gaze drop down his body pointedly. “This seems a little one-sided,” I point out.

“Are you disobeying me, naughty girl?”

“What do you plan to do with me if I am?” I ask, my smile widening.

“Mm…” He pauses to let his eyes wander across my body once more, as though debating. “If you are being disobedient, I suppose a spanking would be in order… I’d have to bend you over my knee and give it to you hard.”

My throat goes dry, my pussy tight with anticipation. God I am so fucking wet already. How does he do this to me? I lift my chin, put one hand on my hip. “Hmm. In that case, I am definitely disobeying you,” I reply.

In an instant, he’s beside me, one arm around my shoulders, the other sweeping my legs out from under me. I barely have time to squeal and fling my arms around his neck before he’s dropping onto the couch and bringing me with him, spreading me across his legs. With both hands, he easily flips me over, as if I weigh nothing at all. I suppose to him I probably don’t.

I lean across his knees, bent so my head faces the floor. He positions me so my ass sticks straight up in the air, across his thighs. Then he runs his hand over my cheeks, one at a time, slow and considering.

Shivers of anticipation and pleasure rush down my spine as he takes his time, massaging my ass.

“You’ve been teasing me all night. Acting very dirty. I think it’s time you learn what naughty girls get for that.”

I suck in a sharp breath, tensed. I’ve always loved the idea of being spanked, but I’ve never had the guts to ask a guy to do it before. Somehow, with Zayne, it feels okay. More than okay. It feels safe. “Punish me,” I whisper, and he laughs, a low, throaty sound that resonates deep in my belly.

Without warning, he spanks my ass once, hard. I gasp and jump against him, but with his other hand, he pins me in place, holding me down across his legs.

“Count,” he says, as his hand comes down again in another sharp slap.

“One,” I gasp. The pain is sharp, stinging, but not unpleasant. It makes me even wetter, imagining how else he’ll punish me. What else he wants to make me do.

He spanks me again, and I count it. We keep going like that, until we get to five and both of my ass cheeks are burning, my whole body alight with the sensation. Then, abruptly, he stops, and starts to massage my ass again.

It feels different now, the spanking making my skin sensitive as hell. His rough, strong hands working across the now-stinging skin makes it twice as sensitive, the pleasure even sharper in contrast to the pain before.

“Are you ready to obey me now?” he murmurs, and I turn my head to catch his eye, savoring the hungry, lustful glint I find there.

It turns me on so fucking much, to see how much he wants me. “Yes,” I whisper.

“Good.” He grins and stands, pulling me to my feet beside him. I don’t expect it so suddenly, and with all the different sensations still rushing through my body, it takes me a second to get steady on my feet. “Now drop those panties.”

I push them over my hips. Let them fall to the floor in a puddle.

He glances down at them, smirking. “Wet for me already, dirty girl?”

“What can I say?” I bat my eyes. “You know how to turn me on.”

He laughs again and spreads his arms wide. “Your turn,” he says, lifting his eyebrows, almost in a challenge. “Undress me.”

I pull his shirt off first. Then I have to pause, because the sight of these perfectly carved muscles up close is distracting as hell. I run my hands across his chest, and dip my head to kiss my way along his collarbone, while I trace my fingers along his abs, then slowly down the V that points directly to his groin.

“And try not to get too distracted along the way,” he adds with a smirk.

I grin back at him and undo the clasp of his jeans. I inch them down his thighs and take a second on the way down to the floor to eye his muscular legs. Damn, even his thighs and calves are toned as hell. He steps out of the jeans, casting them aside with the rest of our clothes, and I stand back up, only his boxers between us now. The cool air in his apartment feels even colder now, and I shiver a little, tightening my legs. My pussy is already so wet, so the chill isn’t helping. I want nothing more than to pull him against me, wrap myself in his warm body. But he’s watching me with that smirk still, his eyelids lowered, expression dangerous. He didn’t say I could touch him, not yet. Not aside from removing his clothes.

So, I hook the band of his boxers with one finger, and slowly, slowly tug those down next.

When his cock springs free, I can’t help but gasp in appreciation. God damn he is huge. And it looks so much thicker in person, so much more tantalizing—and somehow intimidating, all at the same time. Because hell, looking at him right now, I find myself wondering whether he really will fit or not.

Fuck if I don’t want to find out, though.

"Lie back," he says, and he casts a glance at the couch beside us. I lift an eyebrow at him, still smiling. He just waits, patiently, until I obey.

I step back and start to bend over the couch, but he catches my shoulder. Slides a hand down across my chest to circle my nipple with his fingers.

"Not like that," he says. "Lie backwards across it."

I turn around slowly, eyes locked on his. Then I lean backward over the edge of the couch, until my head hits the pillows behind me and my legs are spread. The arm of the couch digs into my ass, pushes my hips straight up into the air.

Apparently that's what he was going for.

Zayne kneels between my knees and grasps them in both hands. In one swift motion, he shoves my legs apart, baring me to the world. I shiver again, as the cool air of his apartment hits my wet, exposed pussy.

He smirks up at me. Fuck, the sight of him kneeling between my thighs is impossibly hot. He grins and purses his lips, blows gently right against my pussy lips. I shiver, unable to help myself, and dig my nails into my palms to distract from the intensity of the cold sensation.

He laughs softly, at the back of his throat. "Cold? Don't worry. You won't be for long." He bends closer, licks the inside of my thigh, just inches away from my pussy. He's so close to me that I can feel the graze of his stubble against my other thigh. "I can't wait to taste you, Clove."

I reach down to run my hands through his hair, my head falling back against the couch cushions. "Now you're being the tease," I point out, which elicits another laugh.

"Oh, definitely," he agrees. "But I don't hear you complaining." He turns to lick the inside of my other thigh, and I shiver, my whole body going tight with desire. My clit feels like it's on fire, like one straight lick from his tongue will send me rocketing toward an orgasm.

I want him so bad. I want him to lick me, suck me, taste me, and then I want him to fuck me.

"Definitely... no complaints... here," I manage, though to be honest, keeping control of my vocal chords is getting difficult as his tongue inches closer to my lips.

He presses one hand to my pussy, spreads my lips with hot fingers, his skin calloused and just rough enough that it adds an extra sensation when he runs on finger slowly from the front of my slit all the way to the back, leaving a trail of my juices all along my pussy.

"I love how wet you are for me, Clove."

"I want you," I gasp.

"I know." He grins. "You are such a sexy, gorgeous little naughty girl, aren't you?"

"Mm, yes..."

He slides his finger back up my slit, circles it around my pussy entrance. "Are you my little slut, Clove?"

"Yes, yes." My voice goes louder, sharper, as he pushes that finger against my entrance, not quite inside me yet. "Fuck yes."

"That's a good slut. Beg for me. Beg me to lick you. Taste you."

"Please, lick my pussy."

He licks across my mound, his tongue pressing down hard enough that I can feel it all the way to my swollen clit, even though he doesn't touch it, not yet. "Do you want me to put my finger inside you?"

"Yes, please, god, Zayne..."

He pushes his finger into me an inch at a time. I tense as he enters, his digit already slick with my juices, but he just keeps pushing, deeper into my pussy, until he's all the way inside. He feels thick and delicious pressed there, and even more so when he bends his finger a little to curl it inside me, the tip of his finger pressing against my front wall. He draws it out slowly, watching me as he does, savoring my reaction as he pulls his finger out of my pussy again. When he hits my G-spot, my hips buck of their own accord, and I gasp, clenching my fists again.

He smirks, then, all at once, thrusts his finger back into me and leans down to lick across my clit.

The gasp turns into a cry, turns into almost a scream as he keeps licking back and forth across my clit, hard enough to make my sensitive nerves leap straight to pleasure so intense it's almost painful. Then he leans back and goes back to only fingering me, slowly, building up the pressure one thrust at a time.

"Fuck," I manage through gritted teeth.

He's still watching me, those blue eyes of his darker now, filled with lust. It's even hotter when he looks at me, when he savors my reactions as he makes me feel whatever he wants me to feel. "You are so beautiful," he murmurs. Then he draws his finger out of me, spreads it against my thigh instead, and replaces it with his tongue.

His tongue is white-hot, a curl of muscle against my inner walls. He explores me inch by inch, swirling his tongue inside my pussy, then licking along my slit before he flattens his tongue and laps at my clit in slow, flat strokes.

This time it's less intense, more of a slow build. But it still doesn't take long before I'm arching up against him, my hands buried in his hair, my throat raw from crying out each time he strokes along me.

Just when I'm at the peak, I tighten my hands into fists. "Fuck, Zayne, I'm going to come," I groan.

He stops, and I lift my head to stare down at him with a frustrated gasp of protest. "Don't come until I tell you to," he says, eyes fixed on mine.

I swallow hard. Nod.

Then he licks me again, and resisting the urge to go over the edge is the hardest thing I've ever done. I have to clench my fists, dig my nails into my palms, focus on that instead of the pleasure rocketing through me.

"I can't... I have to come..."

He stops licking me again, starts to finger me instead. "You can control it."

"Not... with you... doing that," I point out, especially when he drags that finger along my front wall again, right over my G-spot. I feel like I'm going to burst, like the pressure will make me explode.

"Do you want to come for me?"

"Please, please yes."

He keeps fingering me without responding for a moment, watching me as though he's debating. Deciding.

"Please let your slut come for you," I whisper, eyes locked on his.

He grins. "You are a good slut..." He slides his finger out of me. "You can come for me now, slut." Then he licks me once more, hard and fast, and that's the last thing I can process before I let the orgasm hit me.

I can vaguely hear myself screaming his name. The rest is just a flood of pure pleasure, more intense than I've ever felt before. My nerve endings are on fire, and my pussy clenches, my body shaking of its own accord as I fall over the edge.

When I finally come back into myself, Zayne has wrapped his arms around my waist, and he's pulling me upright. I try to stand, find my legs are too shaky, and lean against him for support.

"That good?" he asks, but with a cocky smirk that tells me he knows exactly how good it was.

In response, I grab his face with both hands and kiss him hard. I taste myself on his lips, a salty tang that's even hotter combined with his flavor, his scent. He parts his mouth, swirls that magic tongue of his around mine.

But it's my turn now.

I break away from the kiss and drop to my knees before him. I steal a peek up at him, and find him watching me with wide eyes, as though surprised. "What's the matter?" I ask, running a finger along the side of his cock, so lightly that I'm barely touching. "Haven't you ever made a girl hungry for your cock before?"

His grin deepens. "I mean this in the best possible way, Clove, but I have never met a woman quite like you before."

I grin back and circle my hand around his cock fully. God, my fingers don't even fit all the way around him, he's so thick. I lift my other hand too, wrap them both along him, and stroke his length. He's silky smooth in my hand, velvety soft over a hard steel core. I lean in to lick the tip of his cock, where a single drop of precum gathered. The taste. I've heard friends talk about loving the taste of cock before, or their boyfriends' cum, but I've never quite understood it. Not until now.

He sucks in a deep breath through his teeth. "Fuck."

I press my lips around his head and slowly lean forward, sliding his cock into my mouth. His hands bury in my hair, fists clenching until my eyes water from the pull. I don't mind. The pain adds to the pleasure, and I love that he's losing himself so much he can't concentrate on anything else. I dig my tongue into the underside of his cock as I pull him deeper, deeper into my mouth. At the same time, I reach up with both hands to clench his ass hard, and use that to push him against me.

Fuck, he tastes so good. My jaw aches, stretching wide enough to take him in, but I love it, love the sensation of his cock filling my mouth.

When he's as far in as I can take him, his tip almost touching the back of my throat, I lean back to pull him out again. Then I pause to trail my tongue along the side of his cock, licking him from tip to base and back again.

"I want to suck you off. I want to take your cock into my throat," I tell him.

His eyebrows rise. "Have you ever deep-throated before?"

I shake my head, stroking him with one hand as I lock eyes with him. "I want to learn."

He laughs, eyebrows still lifted, incredulous. "God, you're a thirsty little slut, aren't you?"

"Very." I grin.

I take him back into my mouth, and this time, when I have him fully inside, I look up at him, waiting. He tightens his grip on my hair and gazes down at me.

"Relax." He presses his hips forward gently, an inch at a time.

I force my jaw to relax, and my throat too. There's a moment where my body clenches, and I cough, but he just keeps pressing forward, hands caressing my scalp.

"Don't think too much about it. Just give in. Let me take control."

So I do. I surrender. Let him push into me, his cock inching down my throat until my lips touch the base of his cock. I lift one hand to roll his balls through my fingers, and he sucks in another sharp breath as he starts to lean back, draw himself out of my mouth.

"Fucking hell, Clove," he manages between hard breaths. "You're a natural."

We pick up the pace, him leading, thrusting against me, and I keep toying with his balls, my other hand digging into his ass as he starts to move faster and faster, until it feels like he's fucking my face, thrusting against me with abandon. I love it, and even more than that, I love looking up at the lost expression on his face, the one distracted by pleasure, his eyelids half-closed, mouth slack.

Finally, without warning, he pulls out of my mouth and staggers backward, his cock glistening with my saliva, still rock-hard and pulsing in the cool apartment air. I lean back on my heels, pouting, disappointed. I wanted to taste his cum. Wanted to feel him come in my throat.

"Not yet," he says, eyes back on me, as though reading my thoughts. "Stand up, Clove."

I rise on still-shaky legs, and he immediately wraps an arm around my waist, crushes his mouth to mine.

"I want to fuck you properly first," he whispers against my lips.

I grin and kiss him again, softly. "Mm, I suppose I'm okay with that."

He bends to his jeans, digs in the pockets for a condom. When he unwraps it, I reach for it, and he laughs and lets me take it. I slide it down his cock, savoring the feeling of his hardness between my palms as I do.

"Clove..."

With the condom on, I look up to find him watching me steadily, a hungry gleam in his eye. "Zayne?"

"You drive me absolutely wild."

My cheeks flush. "I could say the same for you."

He laughs. "Good." Then he wraps his arms around me and forces me backward a step. Another step. And another, until we crash onto the couch, and he's lying along me, and our lips collide again, his hot and possessive. "You're mine," he growls against my mouth, and I arch up against him to emphasize the point, sighing in the back of my throat with agreement.

He spreads my thighs, pushes his hips between them, and I wrap my legs around his waist, angling my hips to give him the best access. "Have I told you how fucking gorgeous you are?" he murmurs as he strokes his cock between my lips, tracing the length of my slit. He runs from my ass all the way up to dig lightly against my clit, before he slides back down. I'm soaking wet again already, both from how turned on I got sucking his cock and from his ministrations now, and it doesn't take long before his head is coated in my juices.

"You might have mentioned." I smirk, and he leans down to nip my neck lightly.

"Good. Because you need to know that, Clove. That, and that you are the sexiest, hottest, naughtiest slut I've ever had the pleasure of being with."

I laugh a little and trace my hands over his back. Shit, even his back is muscular, chiseled to perfection. I let my hands slide down to his hips, his ass, and I grip his ass tightly, my nails digging into his skin a little, his muscles tense and strong beneath my fingers. "I have to admit, I don't think I've ever felt like being quite so slutty for someone before."

He grins. "Even better." He's still stroking me slowly with his cock, teasing again. It makes my muscles tense with anticipation, my throat dry and body trembling.

"Fuck, Zayne..."

"Is that what you want?" he whispers into the crook of my neck as he layers kisses along my collarbone. "You want me to fuck you?"

"Fuck yes."

He pauses right at my entrance. Adding pressure but not enough to push his cock inside me, not yet. I arch my hips up toward him, but he catches them in both hands and pins me against the couch, holding me down. "What do you say?" he asks with a glint in his eye.

"Please," I gasp.

Only then does he thrust inside me, his hands still wrapped around my hips so tight I can feel each of his fingers imprinted.

And his cock. Fuck.

He stretches my pussy wide, makes me feel tight around him. He's thick, and so long that when he pushes all the way into me, I can just feel his tip bottoming out at the end of my pussy, buried as far inside me as possible.

Both of us moan, our faces pressed together, his stubble on my cheek. It feels so fucking good, his warm skin on mine, his muscles hard everywhere that I'm soft, his cock thick and pulsing with desire inside me.

For a second, he turns his head, and our eyes meet, both of us lost, distracted by the sensation. The way that it feels like relief, scratching an itch I never knew I had. Finding home again.

Then he bites my earlobe sharply and that pulls me back into myself, into the physical sensations.

"Zayne," I murmur as he pulls back out of me again. My pussy tightens, contracts as it adjusts to his girth, and he sucks in another sharp breath at that feeling.

"Fuck, Clove. You are so fucking tight. So wet and hot..."

"Fuck me, Zayne. I want to feel your cock claim every inch of my pussy."

He pins me against the couch with a growl and starts to thrust in a rhythm, faster with each motion. His cock glides in and out of me, slick with my juices, and every time he slams back into me, my body rocks with the sensation. I strain to thrust against him, to match his pace, but he keeps me pushed against the couch, controlling the motion, controlling me, my pleasure, my body. I surrender to him, loving the feeling of giving up control.

He locks eyes with me as we fuck, flattens one palm against my belly to keep hold of me and lifts the other to run through my hair. He brushes it off my face, then grabs a fistful and pulls me into a deep kiss, his tongue invading my throat as he continues to fuck me.

It doesn't take long for the sensations to build toward a peak, my clit still sensitive to the point of almost feeling sore from my orgasm earlier. He bends down to kiss my neck, my ear, then tilts my head back, exposing my throat for him to run his tongue along.

"Fuck, Clove," he hisses again. I tighten my pussy, clench around him, and he groans aloud.

Then, without warning, he pulls back. Grabs both of my ankles and flings them up over his shoulders, all the while still fucking me, his balls slapping against my ass. I arch my hips, and with my legs over his shoulders, he's fucking me from below, so his cock drags along my front inner wall, his tip slightly curved upward, running right over my G-spot. I cry out, the cry dissolving into a moan as he continues to fuck me hard.

"God, I'm going to come. Zayne. Zayne," I repeat, muscles clenched, hands in fists around his biceps.

"Come for me baby," he growls, and relief floods me for a moment. If he'd asked me to stop, to hold it back like last time, I don't know that I could have. I'm already right at the brink, speeding toward it, and his thick cock against my G-spot isn't helping me fight it.

"Fuck," I cry out, right as the orgasm hits. Every nerve ending in my body sparks, and my pussy spasms around his cock, the muscles clenching and releasing in quick succession as I come hard around him.

For his part, he moans and keeps thrusting, his hands on my calves now, gripping hard as he fucks up against me. The orgasm keeps going, lingers, and it starts to build again almost straight away, and I moan aloud, the pleasure so intense it borders on painful, but in the best possible way. I want him to fuck me forever.

He sees me twist and writhe beneath him, feels the way I tighten again around his cock. He lets go of my leg with one hand and reaches down to stroke my clit within easy reach of his hand. He grins as he does, taking in my pleasure, enjoying knowing how hot he gets me.

I scream this time, louder, as the second orgasm washes through me. He keeps stroking my clit, even as I jerk and twist beneath him. And then he drops his hand, drops my legs back down to the couch and lies along me, our bodies flush, as he fucks me harder. His cock plunges in and out of me, and his balls hit my ass hard on every thrust.

I wrap my legs around his waist, my arms around his neck.

"Fuck, Clove, I'm going to come."

"Come for me," I murmur into his ear.

He pulls my head back, looks straight into my eyes as he finishes, groaning deep in his throat, a desperate sound that's almost a growl. I love that, love the desperate look in his eyes, the way his body shakes in my arms.

When he finally collapses against me, we keep our arms around one another, both of us breathing hard, our bodies slick with sweat. I can feel his heartbeat hammering, and my own pounding back against it, our chests pressed together. When he finally leans back to catch my eye again, we both laugh, half-delirious.

"Fucking hell," he murmurs before he kisses me again, softer this time. More sensitive.

"I know," I whisper when we break apart once more. Our eyes lock, and there's something about him, about his eyes, his touch... the way that felt.

When he pulls out of me, I have to fight the urge to let out a sigh of protest. I want him back inside me already; I want to stay as close to him as possible, both of us basking in the aftermaths of our orgasms.

Luckily he doesn't stay apart from me for long. He scoops me up into his arms and carries me through the apartment, toward his bedroom. It's a different layout than mine, I notice, a little larger, more open-plan. I like it. And he's decorated it well too, not like the typical bachelor pad. It's all modern designs and simple, tasteful furniture.

Then I forget about the apartment, because he's setting me down on the bed and curling in beside me, and I'm lost in his kiss again.

A few minutes later, we lie side-by-side on our backs, staring up at his ceiling, still breathless, our bodies slick with sweat, sticking together.

“Bet you never expected your doorman could do that,” Zayne says, a little smirk dancing across his lips.

I lean in to kiss the corner of that smirk. “I knew he was good at fighting off bad guys,” I say. “I had no idea he was such a naughty guy himself.”

“Only when inspired,” he replies, and I laugh, remembering our conversation in the café earlier.

“So what else inspires you?” I ask, settling into his arms.

“Music mostly,” he replies. “If we’re talking that kind of inspiration.”

“What type?”

“Indie bands, classic rock… Little bit of everything really. It’s the best part of my day sometimes, just heading into the stock room to get everything ready, listening to the perfect playlist.”

“Make me one sometime?” I ask, and then feel my cheeks flush. Was that weird to ask? Is this just a hookup, can we do things like make each other playlists?

But Zayne is already nodding, his eyes bright with ideas. “Definitely. I know what to put on it already.”

“You do?”

He tightens his arms around me. “I thought of the perfect song the moment I met you.”

I laugh. But he doesn’t. I turn in his arms to meet his eye. “Really?”

“Sometimes people just do that. People who really click with me. It makes a song come into my head, and I want to share it with them…”

“Can you play it for me?”

He reaches across me for his phone. For a moment, I regret the lack of warmth where his arm had been a moment before. But then he’s back, phone in hand, and I snuggle into his side as he cues up the music.

I’ve never heard the song before. Don’t recognize the band either, but I love the rhythm. It’s an acoustic guitar, and a soulful singer, singing about a girl he once met, but never knew her name. It’s sweet and sad all at once, and as I curl up against his side and listen to the lyrics, my head fills with a pleasant buzz. This feels right. Zayne feels right. I don’t know how to describe it.

When we finally drift off an hour later, my body curled up to his wrapped around me, arms around my waist, cradling me against him, I have one last thought before I drop off into sleep.

Uh oh.