Chapter 16 Rainfall
RAINFALL
KAT
The rain pounds a steady rhythm onto the roof. As evening approaches, it seems to be getting even stronger. The violet-grey sky has darkened and is layered with clouds, some looking ominous. Maybe it will thunderstorm tonight.
Bundy and I ate dinner, and I am feeling proud of myself for feeding both him and I with more regularity these days. We are about to cuddle up on the sofa with our favorite fuzzy blanket. I think I might pull up my latest fiction novel on my e-reader, or maybe just scroll on my phone for a bit.
I haven’t heard from Zayn in a full day. Not since his late-night text message. I wonder if he is giving me space to process everything, or if he is pulling back. I chew at my lower lip as I check my phone for the dozenth time in just as many minutes.
Bundy and I sit, just getting cozy when, through the rain, I hear a soft knock at the door. I pause for a moment, wondering if I maybe had imagined it. Then, the doorbell sounds, clanging throughout the house loud and clear.
Who would be out here at this hour?
I rise, in the process displacing a less than enthused Bundy and walk over to the front door.
I peer through the frosted glass and into the misty, dusky evening beyond.
No one is there. Huh. I flip on the front porch light and slowly unlock the door.
Tentatively, I crack it open just a tad to make sure I’m not missing another package from Zayn.
But nothing is there, so I close and relock the door.
Suddenly I hear a faint creak behind me and before I can even gasp, feel a hot breath on my neck.
“Hey baby,” a low, sensual whisper emanates from behind me.
“Zayn!” I exclaim, putting my hand over my heart. “Oh my God! Why do you do that? Can’t you just ring the doorbell like normal?”
My heart is pounding. I turn and gaze up into those startlingly blue eyes.
Jesus, he was tall. He had to be well over six foot three.
We hadn’t been this close since the kitchen.
A mischievous grin plays across Zayn’s face.
I can almost feel him replaying the memory.
His dark hoodie is heavy and wet with rain.
Drops of water fall from his sleeves onto the hardwood floor.
“I did ring the doorbell, baby. Just like you asked.”
I scoff as I take him in, moving impossibly closer to me.
“Yes,” I say, “but you see, usually the doorbell ringer waits for the doorbell answerer to, you know, answer the door. And then the doorbell ringer waits for permission to be asked inside.”
Zayn smiles and moves so he is pressed right up against my body. My head and nostrils fill with his scent: fresh rain, redwood trees, and something else… something dark, warm, and spicy.
He wraps one hand around my waist, drawing me in to him, and places his other hand on my jaw cupping my cheek.
“Can I come inside, baby?” he asks against my mouth. I smirk at the very much intended double-meaning in his words.
“Yes, you can,” I whisper.
And before I can say anything else, he presses his lips to mine, claiming my mouth.
My hands grip at his soaking wet hoodie, and I let out a little moan.
Zayn deepens the kiss, pushing his tongue into my mouth.
He picks me up off the floor and I wrap my legs around him as he slams us into the entryway wall.
He kisses me again and again, moving lower to kiss across my cheek and jawline.
“Is this okay, Katherine?” he pauses to whisper at the corner of my mouth.
I answer by pressing my lips to his. His hot mouth moves down my neck, as I slide my hands up under his hoodie and tee shirt and drag them upwards along the hard planes of his torso.
I pull both the shirt and hoodie upward and off, temporarily breaking our kiss.
I look down at his body and holy shit, it is perfect because of course it is.
Olive, golden tanned skin punctuated by sharp and defined muscles covered with intricate black strands of interconnected tattoos.
My eyes eat him up, my chest rising and falling rapidly.
Zayn pauses just a moment, and allows me to drink him in.
I look up to meet his eyes and his gaze falls to my mouth.
“Then give me those lips, Doc,” he growls out.
He grabs the back of my neck and pulls my mouth back to his.
This time, it’s my tongue that surges into his mouth.
I use my teeth to nip at his lower lip and I hear him gasp when I bite down hard and taste copper.
Zayn sets me down and before I can protest, has my black tee shirt up and over my head.
He yanks my black lounge pants down and tosses them on the entryway table.
He gazes down at me and growls a low sound of approval.
I forgot until this moment that I had taken off my bra earlier.
Now I was painfully aware of it, as the cool air hits my bare, sensitive nipples and makes them harden into dark pink peaks.
Zayn takes the back of his hand and strokes the outer side of my breast, causing my body to undulate with a long shiver.
He runs the same hand back up, this time palm facing inward.
He stops at my nipple and softly clasps it between his thumb and pointer finger, pinching to draw it out even more. I moan loudly.
Zayn lifts me up, and I wrap my legs around him as he carries me down the hallway, towards the back bedroom.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Bundy, just a black flash of fur, jump from the back of the couch to the loveseat, peering quizzically over at us from his perch.
Sorry buddy, I think, this is grown-up time.
Zayn kicks open the bedroom door and strides in, my legs still tightly wound around him.
He tosses me onto the bed and pins me there with his deep ocean blue stare.
Then he stalks toward me, and as he reaches the bed, slides both of his huge hands up my thighs.
I let out a gasp as Zayn weaves his way up my body, his hands like two snakes.
Streaks of fire erupt where his hands move, setting my body aflame.
I shudder in a breath when his hands reach the apex of my thighs.
“How long has it been since someone touched you here, Doc?” he asks. He gently moves his hands, now featherlight, across the tops of my thighs. I gasp again.
“A minute,” I breathe out raggedly.
“Mmmm,” is his low reply.
He moves inward finding the middle seam of my black satin panties. With a sudden jerk, he tears them apart, and I feel the slippery fabric rip away from my skin. I gasp and look down just as he gently presses his thumb on my clit.
“And… here?” he asks.
I have no words, no breath left in me to respond.
“Uhm, a-a while,” I manage to choke out. The corner of his mouth lifts in a slight smirk, and he expels out a deep breath.
“Well, fuck baby. That’s just not right. Your pussy is too pretty to have gone so long without someone worshipping it.”
I meet his eyes, and I see his pupils blown dark with desire, like the sea in a storm.
He slides one of his huge hands down to fully cover my hot center.
His other hand moves up to cover one of my breasts.
It said something about the sheer size of Zayn that his hand could fully cover up my breast. I fill out a D-cup.
My bust isn’t small, and prior lover’s hands would grope just part of me. Not Zayn.
His actions prove that he can handle all of me and in this moment, he seems ready to consume me whole.
I moan when he gives my breast a firm squeeze, while pressing into my clit and dragging his fingers down to feel my slick opening.
“Fuck, baby, you are already so wet,” he pants out. “Is that all for me?”
I look down and meet his eyes, nodding slowly. Zayn pulls his body up over mine and fits himself against me. I feel the hard rod of his erection like steel through his still soaking jeans.
“I thought so,” he whispers. “Now, fuck this pussy with your fingers for me,” Zayn instructs. “I want to watch you.”
I gaze at him, somewhat incredulously, realizing that he is serious, and my mind suddenly floods with images. Images of swirling mists and ancient trees, of walking alone, and a dark figure standing just behind me, out of sight.
It’s then I realize: Zayn reflects all my own darker impulses.
He is dangerous and scarred, but also beautiful for those scars.
Like a wolf or some other perfect predator lurking in the shadows.
Visible only when he wants you to see him.
I breathe in his scent and lean into the safety of this moment.
I have the distinct sense that things will never go back to how they were before after tonight. I don’t think I want them to.
I don’t trust, I don’t let others in. I briefly think of slowing this all down. But my body is on fire for this man, and I don’t think that I can. I notice then that Zayn is paused, hands frozen in place, staring at me closely.
“You still with me, Doc?” he asks.
I had done it again—momentarily gone to another place. Mentally escaped for a minute. Except, unlike others in my life, Zayn doesn’t seem to be freaked out by it. Instead, he seems genuinely curious, wanting to check in with me. Wanting my consent to continue.
I meet his steady gaze, coming back to myself, but not responding just yet.
“I am right here, baby, and you are here with me. Fucking feel me,” he says softly but firmly as he rolls his hips, pressing his rock hardness into me.
Oh yeah, I feel that.
“I’m here,” I pant. “Please don’t stop.”
I can feel his massive erection, hard as steel, press again against my center. “Stay here with me,” he whispers in my ear, before giving it a gentle nip.
I plan to, I think.
He takes both of my hands in his huge ones and places them above my head.