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“Fuck,” he growls into my ear, sending a shiver through me. “I’m absolutely addicted to you, pixie.”

Then his mouth crashes onto mine, kissing me with the desire and hunger I’ve been craving. Exactly the way I wanted.

The short, loose dress I’m wearing is already pushed all the way up, leaving my green panties fully exposed.

I unfasten his pants immediately, tugging his boxers down to free his cock. The second I wrap my hand around him, I drag my thumb over the tip, spreading the precum already gathered there.

“I need to be inside you,” he murmurs roughly.

Lifting my legs around his waist, I pull him closer, then use my other hand to slide my panties to the side.

My hand lines him up at my entrance as I lean back slightly and break the kiss.

Breathing hard, Zayn looks at me with pure desire while he slowly pushes inside me.

I let my head fall back with a moan, and he takes the opportunity to kiss and lick along my throat.

With my hands free now, I brace them on the desk. He pulls the dress off my shoulders, pushing my breasts over the cups of my bra.

Both hands close around them, gripping firmly as he teases my nipples, all while moving in and out of me in a dizzying rhythm.

The way he makes love to me—or fucks me—consumes me every time.

“I missed you,” I tell him through broken breaths.

“It’s been two nights since you slept with me, Selene,” he says, almost accusingly, before biting one of my nipples. “I couldn’t wait to end that meeting so I could come fuck you.”

No, I don’t mind when he talks dirty. He’s attentive, loving, romantic. Respectful. He knows how to treat me.

We have nights when we start out having sex and end up making love, with him whispering in my ear about how happy he is with me and how much I mean to him.

But I love this too—when he talks filthy and fucks me like he couldn’t wait another second, like he needs me just to make it through the rest of his day.

“I’m not going to last much longer, babe,” I say quickly.

“I know,” he answers, sliding a hand between us to rub my clit.

His touch sends a warm jolt through my entire body, and it’s exactly what I need. I come hard, surrendering to him.

He kisses me hungrily as I wrap my arms around his neck, pressing myself closer.

“Come here,” he whispers between kisses, lifting me off the desk with his hands beneath my ass.

With me in his arms and his cock still inside me, he stops right in front of the glass wall.

Far below us, London stretches endlessly, people moving calmly through the streets.

“Zayn,” I whisper, suddenly nervous.

“No one can see us,” he assures me softly, setting me down and turning me around in one smooth motion. “Be a good girl and put both hands on the glass,” he orders in that deep, rich voice.

Then he pushes me forward until my chest presses firmly against the window, making me gasp when my nipples—and then my breasts—meet the cold glass.

He doesn’t waste a second, sliding back inside me. Both his hands grip my waist as he starts fucking me hard.

“Two nights without being able to touch you, pixie,” he repeats, still holding on to his earlier complaint.

Matching his rhythm, I push myself back into him with every thrust, deepening the pleasure even more.