MARGARET
The air crackled with unspoken desires as I watched Jerry and Leonard disappear into their respective rooms. My heart pounded a frantic rhythm against my ribs. Tonight, I had a plan.
I turned to Zayn, his eyes already locked on mine, a smoldering intensity burning within their depths.
"Zayn," I began, my voice barely a whisper, "Come to my room. Please."
He nodded, a slow, deliberate movement that spoke volumes. He knew exactly what I wanted. He always did.
As I closed the door behind us, the silence felt heavy, thick with anticipation. I knelt before him, my fingers trembling slightly as I reached for his belt. The buckle clicked open, the sound echoing in the sudden hush. My hands moved with a practiced grace, unzipping his trousers, revealing the hard length of him benea
