Work Text:
He wasn’t getting away from you again.
The strong arm wrapped securely around your waist pulled you closer, a lazy smile tugging at your lips as you nestled into his warmth. Zayne was much more tactile in his sleep, the respectable distance he kept with you in public completely gone. His hold was firm but gentle, as if even unconscious, he didn’t want to let you go.
The faint light of dawn filtered through the curtains, and you glanced at the clock, noting that it was the wrong side of 6 a.m, just a bit before Zayne’s usual time to wake for his morning run. You knew his routine like the back of your hand, a testament to how deeply his schedule had intertwined with your own life.
Today, was the day you were going to beat him.
To be fair, Zayne probably didn’t even know he was playing this game with you. The rules were simple: keep him in bed with you as long as possible before he could slip away to start his day. Any and all methods allowed. All or nothing.
And yet, despite your very valiant efforts, you were currently four-love in his favor.
You felt the rise and fall of his chest under you, his breaths deepening as his body stirred. Smirking to yourself, you rolled in his arms to lay across his chest, your chin propped on your hands as you gazed down at him. His eyes opened slowly, those deep green eyes meeting yours, and his lips curved faintly as realization dawned.
“You woke up early today,” he murmured, voice thick and deep with sleep.
“I’m becoming more like you,” you teased, brushing your fingers lightly over his collarbone. “Soon I’ll be the one waking you up to go for a run.”
He chuckled, low and warm, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek before shifting beneath you. You frowned in displeasure as he carefully slid out from under you, his body already moving on autopilot toward the bathroom.
Your gaze trailed after him, admiring the strong lines of his back and the way his muscles flexed with each movement. Your eyes lingered lower, appreciating the view in front of you with absolutely no shame.
“Someone’s distracted,” Zayne quipped, his teasing tone pulling you from your admiration.
You grinned unabashedly, reaching for him as he passed the edge of the bed. Your fingers brushed his arm, the barest touch enough to stall him. Before he could pull away, you tugged him back down, your grip firm and intentional.
He let himself be guided by you, his body weight tipping the mattress slightly as he knelt on the edge of the bed. The way he followed so easily sent a thrill through you and your hand trailed along his shoulder, fingers lightly tracing the dip of his muscles.
You leaned forward, pulling him into a kiss - your first move.
Zayne responded immediately, no hesitation in the way his lips pressed against yours. His kiss was practiced and devastatingly effective. He kissed you like he did everything else - precisely, confident, and utterly consuming. His lips molded to yours with a passion that left no room for doubt about who was in control.
You loved the way Zayne kissed you. He knew exactly how to take what he wanted while making you want to give him even more. His lips moved with expertise, coaxing you to melt into him completely. Just as your kiss started to get heated, he pulled back slightly, teasing you with the barest pause, his mouth hovering close enough to let you feel the warmth of his breath while not quite touching you.
It was infuriating.
You chased him, pressing up against him with a quiet whine of protest. He let out a low chuckle, the sound reverberating between you and his lips captured yours again, this time with more heat. His control didn’t falter - it never did - as he took the kiss deeper.
He kissed you with a greedy hunger, drawing soft gasps and quiet moans from your lips, drinking them in as if they were his favorite sounds. His tongue brushed against yours, teasing and claiming in a way that made your head spin. You clung to him, your fingers threading through his hair and tugging lightly, eliciting a low growl that only spurred you on.
He tilted his head, changing the angle of the kiss and the new depth left you breathless. Your lungs burned, but you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away. Every time he slowed, you found yourself chasing him, craving the connection he held just out of reach before giving it to you again.
Finally, he pulled back just enough to murmur against your lips, his voice thick with his own desire. “It’s already 6:10.”
“You don’t have work until later,” you shot back, the words barely above a whisper as your fingers trailed through his hair and over his shoulders, your breaths still mingling.
He smirked against your lips, one hand bracing himself on the mattress while the other slid to rest lightly on your waist. “You’re trying to be a bad influence,” he teased, his thumb brushing over your side, making your skin tingle under his touch.
“You don’t mind,” you said, your voice was playful, but the way you looked at him, lips parted and gaze heavy-lidded, was anything but.
His responding chuckle rumbled through you as Zayne shifted again, sitting down next to where your legs rested under the askew blanket. His weight pressed into you as his hand came to rest against your thigh, his thumb grazing the sensitive skin with deliberate slowness.
The tension lingered between you two, thick and electric, and you knew this round wasn’t over yet.
You could tell he was trying to cool the mood off and while your heart skipped at his sweet caresses, he wasn’t going to succeed this time.
You’d have to try harder.
“You’re really going to leave me here all alone?” you whispered, hand trailing down your own chest, seductively you hoped, teasing at the edges.
Zayne’s lips curved faintly, though his gaze remained fixed on you. “And break my morning routine?” he teased, voice amused as he stretched his arms lightly.
You watched the way his arms flex and pushed yourself up onto one elbow before you got too distracted, the blanket slipping down your form as you made your next move.
“What about a new routine?” you countered, your fingers curling around the edge of the blanket before you tossed it aside.
His attention snapped to you then, his eyes darkening slightly as they took in the sight of you stretched out on the bed, his old university tee shirt draped over your form. The soft, worn green fabric barely reached mid-thigh, revealing smooth, bare legs. You felt the heat of his gaze on you, but he didn’t move, his composure still - frustratingly - firmly intact.
You reached for his hand, your touch gentle but insistent, and placed it on your hip, your own hand resting over his. “You could start with staying here,” you said, your tone lilting, playful.
Zayne raised an eyebrow, but his thumb brushed absently against your hipbone, sending a shiver through you. “Tempting,” he said, his voice low, teasing, “but I really should be heading out now.”
You knew he didn’t really mean it, could tell by the look in his eyes that he was also getting caught up in this game you two were playing.
You smiled, undeterred by his words, guiding his hand higher. Your breath hitched slightly as you guided his warm palm under your shirt, felt him slide over the curve of your waist, the fabric of your shirt riding up with the motion. His other hand moved to steady himself on the bed, and you caught that hand too, placing it on your stomach and pressing it firmly against your skin.
“Not even for me?” you asked softly, your voice dipping as you arched slightly into his touch.
His breath faltered, just for a moment, and you knew you were getting to him. You guided his hands further, his fingers brushing against the softness of your stomach. His gaze remained locked on the path your hands created, the sharp green of his eyes darkening with every inch of you revealed to him.
By the time his palms rested just beneath your ribs, his resolve had visibly wavered. You paused, letting your hands rest lightly atop his, your chest rising and falling steadily as you waited for him to make the next move.
After a moment his hands moved on their own, pushing the fabric higher until the shirt bunched at your chest, your breasts now completely exposed to him. He paused and drank the image of you in with unabashed pleasure, his thumbs tracing upward, gliding over the curve of your ribs before he finally cupped you. The warmth of his palms and the reverence in his touch sent a rush of heat through you, and you bit your lip to stifle the sound threatening to escape.
Zayne’s breathing was uneven now, and when he finally looked up, his gaze met yours with an intensity that made your pulse quicken.
You could tell he was on the edge of breaking and decided to go for it. All or nothing.
“Zayne,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. “Please. I need you.”
The plea hung in the air, fragile yet potent, and you watched the last of his restraint crumble. His green eyes darkened, the shift in his expression unmistakable as his hands moved with newfound certainty.
He didn’t hesitate this time, his touch no longer tentative but deliberate. His large hands guided you to take off his shirt completley, his warmth setting your skin alight as he mapped the soft curves of your body. His palms skimmed over your stomach, his fingers brushing higher until he reached your breasts again. You hummed in satisfied amusement to yourself. Ever a breast man. A quiet gasp escaped your lips as his thumbs flicked over your hardened buds, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure straight through you.
The sound you made seemed to stir something deep within him, a low groan rumbling from his chest as he leaned down, his lips finding the tops of your breasts. He pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses to your skin, all his closely held self-restraint finally gone.
“You are…” he murmured, his voice a rich, gravelly timbre that sent shivers down your spine, “so spoiled.”
Your face burned at the heat in his words, a blush spreading from your cheeks to your chest, which was still cradled in his hands. Hands that played with you again, rolling your nipple between his fingers and pulling softly, dragging another helpless sound from your lips, and his smirk only deepened.
“After everything we did last night,” he teased, his lips brushing your skin between kisses, “you still want more?”
The memory of the night before and just how much he “spoiled” you then flashed through your mind, vivid and unrelenting, and your body responded in kind, arching into his touch. You bit your lip, trying to stifle the flood of want coursing through you.
“It’s your fault,” you managed to say, your voice trembling but defiant. “You have to take responsibility.”
Zayne’s laughter was soft and indulgent, his lips quirking into a smile that was more proud than chastising. He shifted, bringing his face closer, his breath hot against your skin as he murmured, “Is that so?”
You nodded, your resolve unwavering under his piercing gaze. “Very much so,” you whispered, your voice barely holding as his lips ghosted over the sensitive curve of your neck.
“You’re insatiable my love,” he said, though his tone held no complaint, only admiration wrapped in desire.
“Just for you,” you countered breathlessly, your words dissolving into a quiet moan as his teeth grazed the delicate skin of your throat.
His grip on you tightened ever so slightly, grounding you as his lips returned to yours, capturing them in a kiss that left you dizzy. You felt his hands shift again, sliding lower to hook under your thighs as he effortlessly pulled you closer, your bodies flush against each other.
He broke the kiss just enough to murmur against your lips, his voice filled with heat and adoration, “You win.”