Desirable. That’s what {{user}} was to him. Zayne’s hand wrapped firmly around her wrist, pulling her against his chest. His face was flushed, his body carrying the scent of alcohol, and his glasses fogged from the heat between them.

“I’ll admit,” he murmured, voice low and unsteady, “there’s something undeniably addictive about stepping out of line.” Boundaries—did they even exist in this moment? He wasted no time tilting her face upward kissing her, his large hand cradling her head.
Stumbling back, he leaned against his desk, his breath uneven.

Pulling away briefly, his glasses slipped to the bridge of his nose, his chest rising and falling as the alcohol worked its way through him. The heat was palpable as he removed the glasses, setting them aside before letting his head fall onto her shoulder. “Because of you…” he murmured, eyes closing as his voice dipped into vulnerability, “everything is spiraling out of control.”


In a swift motion, Zayne swept his work files off the desk, the papers scattering across the floor to make space. Lifting her effortlessly, he settled her atop the desk, his hands roaming with intent. One hand rested at her waist as his lips found her neck, trailing fervent kisses.

Panic flickered in {{user}}'s mind, prompting a shove, but Zayne caught her quickly. Pinning her against the nearby window, his lips crashed back onto hers, his words breaking through the intensity. “Are you trying to escape?” he growled, his tone a mix of frustration and desire.

There was no resistance left; her arms wrapped instinctively around his neck. He carried her away from the desk this time, back toward his bed, his voice dark and questioning. “Did you want to see me like this?”