Mr. Malik

What were the perks of working for an eccentric billionaire, you ask? Did you want a list? Because I am sure I could enlighten you. I didn’t just clean his laundry, I helped keep it dirty. And he was damn good at keeping me dirty.


3. Two

What just happened? I was a little hazy on the details, but I was pretty sure Zayn Malik, business tycoon billionaire, just admitted to being attracted to me. I never really had an issue with how I looked, but Christ – this man could have any women in the world. He could have his way with the most gorgeous women on earth and he was looking at me.

I shook my head from the thought. I didn’t need to entertain any maddening scenarios in my head. He was my boss. That just… it couldn’t happen.

After cleaning up the rest of the kitchen, I shut myself up in my massive bedroom in the east wing of the apartment, ignoring the tingling in my body at the thought of Zayn – er, Mr. Malik.

I quickly undressed, pulling off my outer coverings, only leaving on my pale pink panties before I slipped on the oversized t-shirt I wore to bed most nights. I pulled my hair up into a messy bun on the top of my head as I made my way to the private bathroom connected to my room. As I stood in front of the mirror brushing my teeth, my eyes washed up and down my frame. What was it he was attracted to? I was so unbelievably average, it was sickening. My hair was too stringy. My cheekbones were too prominent. My eyes were a mash-up of all the colors, making them a dull shade of hazel. And the rest of me – well, it was safe to say I could lose a pound or two before I’d ever look good standing next to a man like Zayn Malik.

As I spit out my toothpaste and rinsed the brush, I pushed my face toward the mirror, looking at myself close-up. Bleckk. I shook my head quickly, but stopped myself when I realized one of my tiny hoop earrings – earrings that my grandmother gave to me before she died – was missing from my ear.

Oh shit.

My eyes immediately searched the countertops before I dropped to my knees on the floor searching for it. No, no, no. My heart squeezed tightly in my chest at the thought of not being able to find it.

I ran to my room, retracing my steps in hopes it just fell out when I changed for bed. I picked up the clothes I was wearing not even ten minutes earlier and shook them out. It was nowhere. Without even thinking, I dashed out my bedroom door, heading to the kitchen where Zayn and I shared dinner together not even an hour before.

I flipped on the light and looked around on the immaculate countertops. Of course it wasn’t there. I just cleaned the shit out of this whole place. I dropped down on my knees to look on the floor, scouring under the baseboard. And as if some miracle was shone down upon me, I found it on the floor by the kitchen sink.

“Oh my god,” I sighed as I blew on the earring to dust it off and popped it back through the hole in my ear.

Close call. I stood up, trying to regain my composure after my near heart attack.

“Miss Mason.”

I jumped nearly three feet as a screech escaped my lips. I turned to find Zayn sitting at the dining room table, still dressed in his white dress shirt and black pants. He had a glass in his hand and a bottle of whiskey next to him on the table.

“M-Mr. Malik,” I stammered, holding my hand to my heart.

I watched as his eyes washed up and down my over-exposed body as his tongue darted out, wetting his lips. I looked down, immediately tugging at the bottom hem of the shirt that only now seemed much too inadequate to call pajamas.

“I-I thought you went to bed,” I said wide-eyed, my cheeks burning with blush.

“I needed a drink,” he said, moving his glass in his hands, causing the ice to clink against the side.

“Oh,” I said, dropping my gaze, feeling incredibly embarrassed to be in his presence while I was this indisposed.

“Is this what you wear to bed, Miss Mason?” He smirked as his eyes, less than subtly, looked up and down my body again.

“On most nights,” I said quietly, feeling incredibly self-conscious as I stood under his watchful eye.

“Hmm,” he grunted as he stood up from his seat, grabbing the bottle of whiskey in his free hand.

My heart began to pound furiously in my chest as he moved toward me. My body was stick-straight and my breathing stopped completely as he passed by me to make his way to the sink. I slowly turned to watch as he gulped down what was left in his glass and deposited it into the sink before turning back to me. His eyes connected with mine immediately. He was so mind-blowingly attractive, it was overwhelming. I stood wide-eyed, gazing at him like I’d only just laid eyes on him for the first time.

“You were in a panic,” he pointed out, referring to my abrupt entrance into the kitchen.

“I-I lost my earring. Or I thought I did,” I told him, my cheeks still blushing.

“Glad to see you found it,” he commented, reaching out to gently touch my earlobe.

My insides contracted from his touch and I felt the slow build of sexual heat deep within me. It would have been the perfect time for him to just take me right then and there. My whole body was screaming for him from just that one touch.

“Yes,” I said, the word coming out more as a squeak rather than a reply.

There was a moment between us where our eyes connected, like there was a force holding us in an intense gaze, neither of us able to look away. My entire body tingled from his presence. I was certain he could see what he was doing to me. And because of that, I slowly crossed one of my legs over the other one as I stood in front of him, to try to halt the sensations that were building inside of me. But his watchful eye on me caught my tactless move in an instant, causing my inappropriate thoughts about him to multiple.

“I can’t say your choice of bedroom attire was a bad choice,” he smirked, looking down at the hem as he stepped toward me.

Oh my god. What had he seen? Had my ass been hanging out as I searched for my earring? How incredibly embarrassing. My cheeks flushed a brighter shade of crimson as I thought back on what a lunatic I must have looked like as I rushed into the kitchen to search for my missing heirloom.

“You have beautiful legs, Miss Mason,” he breathed, his voice lowering into a huskier form, sending a shot of pleasure through my insides. My breathing hitched with his words, and he smirked because of it.

“Am I making you nervous, Miss Mason?” He asked as his face went back to the cool expression he usually led with, though his eyes were still intense. Was it that obvious?

“Y-yes,” I admitted.

“In a bad way?” He asked, quirking his eyebrow.

“No,” I said quietly, answering immediately. His smile tugged up his lips again.

“Good,” he replied.

I wanted to whimper. I wanted to moan. I wanted to do something to show just how agonizingly turned-on I was by him just by this short exchange. But I couldn’t. I closed my eyes, trying to find my footing again. I couldn’t think properly when I was in his presence.

“Miss Mason…” I heard next to my ear. My eyes flew open. He was standing so close, so incredibly close that we were nearly touching.

“I’m finding it hard to control my urges when you’re dressed like this,” he whispered in my ear, using my words from earlier. I could feel his breath on my ear and it destroyed me.

I was panting now and I was certain he knew what he was doing to me. When I felt his fingertips move slowly up my bare right thigh it startled me, but it didn’t stop me from letting out a whimper. I closed my eyes again, partly from embarrassment, but mainly because I was drowning in him – and I wanted to.

“Do you feel this, Miss Mason?” He breathed in my ear.

“Mm-hmm,” I moaned, licking my lips as the desire built inside of me.

“Do you feel this… this energy between us?” He continued in his husky tone.

“Mmm,” I moaned, biting my bottom lip.

“Your little pink panties did me in,” he said as his fingers moved farther up my thigh to my hip, gripping onto the side of my underwear, tugging at it before snapping it gently against my skin. I let another whimper escape my mouth. 

Oh my god! He did see them! Oh Christ.

“You are so appealing, Miss Mason,” he told me as his other hand moved up to my hair before pulling out my ponytail, letting my hair fall lax against my shoulders.

It took me a moment to gather my thoughts. Everything seemed to be happening so fast, yet it seemed like we were moving in slow motion. My brain was foggy, but I was certain I was quite thoroughly being seduced by this overwhelmingly captivating man.

As his hand dropped down to my left thigh, my breathing hitched once again. He had both of his hands on me, on my bare skin and I was reeling. I guess he was proving his point to me – I am a man who gets what he wants – because I had no self-control left in me. Even then, I couldn’t justify a reason to need to control myself with him. We were both consenting adults. Consequences be damned.

“I can be very persuasive, Miss Mason. But I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do,” he breathed lowly, looking down into my eyes as his fingers burned into my skin in the most amazing way possible.

“Do you hear me, Katherine?” He asked in a more demanding tone, causing me to take a sharp breath.

“Y-yes,” I replied.

“Do you want to leave?” He asked. My eyes bore helplessly into his. No, my god. No.

“Do you want to leave?” He asked sharply, yet more methodically. I shook my head.

“Say it,” he told me.

“No. I don’t… I don’t want to leave,” I stammered.

“Mmm,” he groaned, sounding pleased, although his facial features never showed it. I watched as his tongue came out, wetting his lips as his fingers moved farther up my shirt so both of his hands were resting on my hips.

“Your skin is so soft,” he whispered as his thumbs moved in slow circles against my hipbones.

Oh, I wanted him to touch me everywhere. I wanted his hands to explore every inch of my skin. Christ. I wanted this man so badly.

“Oh, Miss Mason. The thought of having you does things to me,” he confessed, his lips pressed against my earlobe moments before I felt his lips move against my neck.

The thought of having me? Oh my god. No man had ever said something like that to me. It was the sexiest thing I had ever heard.

My skin tingled from his mouth on me and I tried hard to keep my focus as his lips slowly moved down my jaw line, scratching me softly with his facial stubble. But I was fighting a losing battle. I was putty in his hands. This man was so insanely attractive and the way he seemed to be losing himself in me was completely throwing me over the edge.

“Katherine,” he breathed against my lips. My heart was in my throat. It was so intimate.

When his lips pressed against my own, it took me a moment to regain my equilibrium before my lips began moving fluidly against his, my hands and arms resting against his chest. His tongue prodded my lips open and took my mouth over, moving smoothly with my own. He was an excellent kisser and it made me wonder if he was as good a lover. My brain spiraled. Of course he was. He had to be. Did I really need to question it?

I was vaguely aware that his hands started lifting my shirt farther and farther up my back. I wanted him to just rip it off of me. I wanted to be naked with him. I was having a tough time holding back my own urges with this man.

Zayn pulled away only when his fingers finished bringing my shirt up, pulling it over my arms and head, and I let him. His vision washed over my skin moments before his fingers slid across my bare collarbones before dragging his palms smoothly down the front of my body – from my collarbones down to my breasts down to my stomach, like he was worshiping me.

“You are breathtaking,” he stated, still admiring me with quiet fascination.

When I couldn’t take it anymore – when I couldn’t take his eyes inspecting every inch of me, I leaned up and connected our lips again. His fingers dug into my hips pulling me to him, and I groaned against his mouth when his erection dug against my inner thigh. I had never been seduced like this before. I couldn’t even wrap my head around it. He was hypnotizing.

“I want nothing more than to spread you across the table and fuck you until you explode, Miss Mason,” Zayn breathed against my lips.


My eyes widened in shock from his blunt words as I pulled back to look at him. No one had ever talked to me that way before. He cocked his eyebrow slightly as I felt his hands move down to the back of my thighs, pulling me up against him and I let him. I was lifted into his arms with ease as his mouth found mine again. My fingers dug into his hair as I kissed him with everything I had, vaguely aware he was walking me into the dim dining room.

Zayn set me down on top of the cool table top, pressing his body toward mine so I laid down completely before he left a few lasting kisses on my lips, pulling back to look down on me. His eyes were dark with lust and it sent desire through my body like shockwaves. Oh to be wanted by the likes of a man like Zayn Malik. I was his one true desire in these fleeting moments and I wasn’t going to ask questions. My self-worth had never been so high.

Zayn pulled my legs up to his hips and pressed forward – his hardness pressing between my legs, only our clothing in the way of really feeling one another. I let out a low moan as my eyes closed to help me focus on the sensations coursing through my body.

“Miss Mason, you are engulfing – so magnetic,” Zayn groaned as his hands came up to knead my breasts softly, his fingertips tugging and rolling the sensitive flesh of my nipples.

I let out another low moan as pleasure wove thick throughout every inch of my body.

“I find myself vastly aroused by the prospect of making you come, Miss Mason. I could listen to you moan in pleasure all night long,” he said matter-of-factly.

Oh! This man!

Everything he said was such a shock to my system. No man had ever talked to me so candidly, so freely. His words were so lewd and naughty, yet they were so hot and filled every inch of my body with need for him.

“Oh, please,” I begged, my voice barely audibly through a whimper.

“It would give me no greater pleasure than to feel you come all around me,” he groaned as his fingers stopped their teasing and his hands worked across my chest.

My back arched my chest upward into his palms, wanting him to touch me and tease me like before. I felt like I might explode already.

“Please,” I whimpered again.

His lips turned up into a calculating smile, and I knew my pleas were welcomed – that he very much enjoyed the fact that I was begging.

When his hands moved down the valley of my stomach, away from where I wanted them, I let out another whimper, letting my body fall lax against the table once again.

His blunt fingertips dug into the skin of my hips as he gripped the sides of my panties, pulling them down my legs agonizingly slow. It was in those moments that I figured out just how well-trained he was in the art of seduction. My body writhed relentlessly for him as he made every inch of me tingle with anticipation. Oh, he was good – so damn good. I was sprawled out bare naked on his dining room table just for him, while he stood fully dressed hovering above me. This man was a master in his craft.

I sat up abruptly, gripping onto the front of his shirt. My deepest desire in the moment was to get him naked. His eyes stayed glued to me, hooded and intrigued by my hasty actions. My fingers began popping out one button after another on his white dress shirt, revealing a large tattoo spread across his chest, from collarbone to collarbone. I stopped momentarily in my quest to admire it, my fingertips sliding gingerly across it. It was of two large black wings on either side with a large kiss mark in the middle inked in red. My eyes tentatively found his and watched as he stared back into mine with an impatience that only he could convey, and I knew I was taking too long for him. I bit back a smirk as I continued to rid him of his shirt.

As I sat on the table with my legs wrapped up against his hips, his fingers were dug into the meaty part of my body where my hips and my ass and my thighs all come together, his eyes staring down on me, watching me contently. I had never felt more wanted in all of my life. How did he do it? Maybe it was because he did truly want me – even if it was only for sex. It was sure to be the best sex I had ever had. I was certain of it.

I pulled out his shirt tails from his pants before I finished the task of fully unbuttoning it. My hands pushed into the sides of the shirt helping push it off his shoulders as he shrugged out of it, letting it fall to the floor. He was well sculpted – a body I was sure he took pride in keeping fit. As my fingers fumbled with the fastening of his pants, he reached in his pocket and produced a simple shiny square package – a condom. My eyes met his as my mouth dropped slightly open, my fingers stilling their mission. Was he the kind of man who was really that prepared? Or was he anticipating this all along? Did he have some sort of sixth sense that I’d give in so easily the next time I was in his presence? Or was it his I-get-what-I-want philosophy that gave him such confidence in my caving to his will?

The second his teeth gripped the foil and I heard the unmistakable rip of the condom packaging, all the questions were wiped from my mind.

“Feel free to continue, Miss Mason,” he said, smirking down at me.

“Oh,” I said, snapping out of my daze as my fingers fumbled once again at the zipper on his pants.

Before I could take another breath, his black slacks were pooling at his ankles. He kicked out of his shoes and pants as my fingertips grazed the elastic waistband of his black Calvin Klein’s. I wonder what kind of fantasy this was fulfilling for him – fucking his housekeeper? What was it? What pleasure did I hold for him? Sure I just had to have been a conquest he found himself drawn to. It really was the only explanation. He must get his kicks from fucking the help. Surely his other housekeeper would have stuck around longer if he hadn’t grown bored with her.

I shook my head. My mind was running wild. I had no idea why his previous housekeeper chose to leave. Hell, I didn’t even know if she chose to leave. I had no clue what her back story was. I was just making up shit in my head.

“Have I lost your attention, Miss Mason? That is new for me,” I heard Zayn’s husky voice and my eyes snapped up to his.

“Women don’t usually bore so quickly with me. Do I have to step up my seduction techniques?” He smirked wryly at me. He was being facetious and I kind of loved that about him.

“Consider me fully wooed, Mr. Malik,” I said, gripping onto the sides of his boxer briefs as I finished my task of getting him naked.

“Good to know I haven’t lost my touch,” he said as all humor drained from his expression.

I watched mesmerized as he slid the condom down himself. My heart beating faster and faster at thought of really getting my hands on this man and his hands on me. When he looked up, there was so much desire and lust swirling in his eyes, it nearly sedated me. He was so incredible. And I knew this might be a bad idea – fucking my boss and all – but my body and my mind wouldn’t let me give a shit.

“Lie back,” he said in a gruff voice. I wasn’t in the position of asking questions, so I did as he said.

My back met with the cool surface once again as his fingertips dug into the flesh of my thighs, pulling me swiftly to the edge of the table so my behind was nearly hanging off the side. As he kept a grip on my thigh with his left hand, the fingers of his other hands dipped slowly down my front before he buried his index and middle finger inside of me.

“So eager, Miss Mason.” Zayn smirked, pleased with me. I let out a low moan in response as my eyes closed enjoying the rippling sensation that his slowly moving fingers made within me.

“Brace yourself, Miss Mason,” he said in almost a complacent promise as he promptly pulled his fingers out of me.

My eyes opened quickly as my fingertips gripped the edge of the table. I looked down just as he lined himself up. He took a sharp intake of breath and seconds later, he slammed inside, burying himself deep within me. My head tipped back as a low cry escaped my lips. The sensations were overwhelming and I almost couldn’t breathe. Zayn pulled back slowly and once again slammed hard into me, causing another cry to burst from my lips.

“Feel me,” he groaned as he began a methodical rhythm inside of me.

Oh, I felt him. And he was answering my initial question about him so thoroughly. Was he as good of a lover as he was a kisser? Yes. Yes. Yes!

My body had never felt so many pleasing sensations all at once. It was intoxicating. The way he was rocking his body against mine; the way his hands moved smoothly up and down my skin when they weren’t gripped tightly to my thighs; the way his ragged breaths were doing me in just as much as the act of sex itself. My god, he was so incredibly alluring.

And when my breaths became gasp and my body almost couldn’t take it anymore, I exploded all around him in an intense, earth-shattering orgasm that I was sure to experience after-shocks from if he kept on.

When my body settled and my mind came back down to earth, I opened my eyes to find him smirking smugly down at me, his rhythm never faltering. I couldn’t help but giggle and bite at my lip.

“Watching you come, Miss Mason—” He smiled, shaking his head. I blushed crimson at his blunt words as I bit down harder on my lip.

“—I’d like to see that more often,” he grunted as he began to push harder and faster, not giving me any amount of time to let his words settle within me before I was building back up.

“Oh. Ohh. Zayn!” I cried out, I felt his fingertips dig harder into my flesh bringing a little pain with the pleasure.

I was blasting through my second orgasm when I was certain he found his own ending. His rhythm became sloppy before it stopped altogether, the palms of his hands finding the top of the table as he hunched forward suspended above me. Both our breathing was ragged and rapid and I fought to find an ounce of moisture inside my mouth.

I had never experience such mind-blowing sex – sex that could easily have been ripped right out of one of those cheesy romance novels. It silently made me wonder where on earth he learned how to fuck like that. It was awe-inspiring.

With a low breathy grunt, Zayn pulled up and out of me, causing my lower half to contract without him inside of me. As he retreated away from me, I almost felt desolate without him. And a part of me knew it was completely wrong to feel that way. Why did he make me feel like that? Why was I letting this man control me in such a way? I never felt so dependent in my life and I almost hated myself for it.

I pulled myself up to sit on the table top as I watched him walk naked into the kitchen and discard the condom haphazardly into the trash can. When he turned back around and made his way back, his eyes looked up into mine, but he didn’t say anything. And I couldn’t read his mood. He didn’t look pleased, but he didn’t look upset either. He just looked indifferent. I guess when you get everything you’ve ever wanted, it starts to be less exciting. And that thought dismantled me.

As Zayn reached down for his boxer briefs, I quickly scooped up my pink panties and dashed toward the kitchen to grab my t-shirt, throwing it over my head.

“Katherine…” Zayn said in almost a whisper.

“Good night, Mr. Malik.” I squeaked out as I nearly ran out of the room, my heart pounding furiously in my chest.

Was my life always going to be a string of one bad decision after another? After tonight, I was sure of it.

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