~Evric’s POV~
"Evric," he gasped into my ear, using my na with a weight that told he had reached his absolute limit. "I’m so horny. Please... please have sex with . Please, Evric."
I turned around in his arms, intending to stay firm, to tell him we needed to talk more. But Zayn didn’t give the chance. He crashed his lips against mine, a desperate, hungry kiss that tasted of red wine and longing.
"Can you just please forgive ?" he murmured against my lips, his voice breaking. "Can you just look past all this? I’ve learned my lesson... I understand now. Please just have sex with ."
"Zayn—"
"Please don’t say no," he begged, his eyes welling up. "This punishnt is too much for . I can’t take it anymore."
I ran my hand through my hair, my resolve crumbling. I was a second away from saying yes, from carrying him upstairs and ending this. But Zayn didn’t wait. He grabbed again, harder this ti, and kissed with a ferocity that demanded a response.
I lost it.
I returned the energy, my hands sliding under his shirt.
I lifted him, his legs wrapping around my waist, and hoisted him onto the marble kitchen island.
The marble was cold, but we were burning. The kiss was deep, ssy, and frantic, our tongues dancing in a desperate rhythm.
I moved down, kissing his jaw, his throat, his chest. I knelt between his legs and pulled his trousers down.
I could feel his heat, his heart racing.
My mouth was inches away from his cock, my breath hot against his skin, and Zayn let out a ragged moan, his fingers tangling in my hair.
Then, the sound of gravel crunching outside. Headlights swept across the kitchen window. A car door slamd.
I froze. "My friends are here."
Zayn’s eyes snapped open, wide and disbelieving. "Your friends? Didn’t you just go out to et them?"
I hurried to my feet, straightening my shirt as my heart raced. "I forgot to tell you, they’re coming over later. I’m so sorry. Put your clothes back on... just give a few minutes. I’ll be upstairs soon, I promise."
I looked at him, and the hurt in his eyes was like a physical blow. It wasn’t just frustration; it was a deep, soul-crushing rejection.
"Please, babe," I begged, reaching out to help him down.
He pushed my hands away, his face hardening into a mask of cold fury. He stood up, shaking as he pulled his clothes back on. "You didn’t even tell they were still coming tonight," he spat, his voice trembling with anger.
"I’m sorry, I was—"
He didn’t let finish. He didn’t even look at . He turned and stord out of the kitchen, his heavy footsteps echoing on the stairs as he headed up to the bedroom, leaving standing in the silent kitchen as the doorbell began to ring.
I stood there for a heartbeat, my pulse still thundering in my ears. I smoothed my clothes, ran a hand through my hair, and took three deep, grounding breaths. I had to bury the frustration and the heat, locking it away behind a mask of professional calm. Only then did I walk to the door and swing it open.
"There he is! The man of the hour!" Ben shouted as they spilled into the entryway.
They imdiately began raining praises on for the business deal earlier. "Evric, seriously, I’ve never seen anyone dismantle a fraud draft that fast," Miles added, clapping on the shoulder. I forced a smile, nodding along, though my mind was with Zayn.
"I can order so food for you guys," I offered, trying to be a good host.
"Don’t worry about it," Ben said, lifting a heavy bag of takeout. "We grabbed a mountain of food on the way. Just bring out that wine."
"I’ll get it," I said. I led them to the dining room where they began spreading out the containers. I pulled a few bottles of vintage red from the cellar, set out the glasses, and made sure they had everything they needed.
"Excuse for a second, guys," I said, my voice steady despite the knot in my stomach. "I need to check on Zayn."
"Go on, man," Jude said, giving a knowing, slightly apologetic look.
I rushed upstairs, my heart sinking further with every step. I pushed the bedroom door open and found Zayn sitting on the very edge of the bed, his back to , his shoulders hunched.
"Babe?" I walked closer, my voice soft. "Are you okay?"
He didn’t answer. He didn’t even breathe. Suddenly, he stood up. Before I could say another word, he lunged at , his hands gripping my shoulders. He pushed back onto the bed with a strength born of pure desperation. He climbed on top of imdiately, pinning my wrists.
"Babe, what are you doing?" I asked, startled.
"Stop asking questions," he hissed, his eyes wild and red-rimd. "Undress, Evric. Have sex with right now. No more waiting."
"No," I said firmly, my heart aching. "My friends are right downstairs, Zayn."
"How is that supposed to be my problem?" he snapped, leaning down to bite at my neck.
I turned my head away, avoiding the contact. "Zayn, think for a second. Rember how much you hate it when people hear you? You’ve always been so careful about your pride. You won’t like them to hear you moaning for a man. We are not doing this."
The reminder of his own self-consciousness made him flinch, but he didn’t move. He tried to lean in for a kiss, his eyes pleading. "Please..."
I didn’t let him. I used my strength to gently but firmly push him aside and stood up, adjusting my shirt. "I will be back after my friends leave."
As I turned to go, Zayn reached out, his fingers brushing my arm as he tried to hold back. "Evric, wait—"
"Stay back!" I yelled, the command snapping through the room.
He recoiled as if I’d struck him. I didn’t look back. I opened the door and walked out, pulling it shut. As the latch clicked, a faint, broken sob echoed from inside the room. It felt like a knife to my gut, but I kept walking.
I went back downstairs to my friends, but the "celebration" was a blur. I sat with them, I drank the wine, and I responded to their jokes, but I couldn’t concentrate on a single word. Every ti the house went quiet for a split second, I imagined I could hear him crying upstairs.
My friends stayed for several hours, oblivious to the war happening in my head. Finally, near midnight, they gathered their things and headed for the door.
"Thanks for the hospitality, Evric," Jude said. "And seriously, thanks again for the save today."
"Anyti," I replied, waving as their car pulled away.
The silence that followed was deafening. I slipped back into the living room, then into the dining area, moving deliberately as I cleaned, stacking the takeout boxes for disposal, rinsing the wine glasses, and carefully wiping down the table. I felt like a ghost haunting my own ho.
When the last glass was put away, I stood at the foot of the stairs. The lesson was proving to be much harder on than I had anticipated, but the question remained unanswered.
I took a deep breath and began the climb back up to our bedroom.
When I entered, I found Zayn exactly where I had left him, but the fire of his anger had burnt out, leaving only the ashes of heartbreak.
He didn’t speak as I moved through the room. I showered quickly, the hot water doing nothing to ease the knot in my chest, and changed into my nightwear.
I needed a distraction, so I sat at the desk and opened my laptop to review the reports Jas had sent earlier.
I tried to focus on the spreadsheets, but the air in the room was electric. Suddenly, the bed creaked. I heard his footsteps, soft and hesitant. Before I could look up, Zayn was there. He didn’t stand beside ; he climbed onto my lap, straddling my legs and burying his face in the crook of my neck.
His arms wrapped around with a grip so tight it was almost painful. I stared at the dark screen of my laptop, my heart hamring.
"Evric..." he whispered, his voice already breaking. "I’m so sorry."
"For what, babe?" I asked, my voice barely a breath.
"For being stupid. For being so incredibly, painfully clueless about the weight of what I say to you." He pulled back just enough to look at , and the sight of his tear-streaked face shattered the last of my resolve. "Please... Baby, forgive ."
"For what?" I repeated, needing him to say it.
"I have the answer to your question,"
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