Ozan's gaze never left hers as he slowly, almost maddeningly, let his lips hover near hers but not quite touching. The tension between them was unbearable, thick with unspoken words and desires that neither of them were willing to fully voice yet. Leyla could feel the warmth of his breath against her lips, each second dragging on like a slow burn.
"You're killing me, Leyla," Ozan muttered, his voice rough with restraint. He could feel the way her body shivered in his arms, could see the subtle flicker of longing in her eyes even though she fought it.
Leyla swallowed, trying to maintain her composure, but her heart was beating erratically in her chest. "You're the one who won't stop," she said, her voice breathless, despite her best efforts to sound unaffected.
Ozan smirked, brushing his lips so lightly over hers that it felt like a cruel tease. He wasn't going to make it easy for her. His lips drifted down again, this time trailing along the sensitive curve of her jawline, a deliberate path that made her pulse quicken with every soft brush.
Her hands instinctively gripped the fabric of his shirt, her breath hitching as he kissed lower, his lips tracing the line of her throat once more, this time lingering just above her pulse.
He knew the effect he was having on her. He could feel the way her body betrayed her, how she leaned into him, craving the touch that she refused to admit she wanted. He let out a soft laugh, low and teasing, before his lips found the delicate curve of her collarbone.
"Is this what you wanted, Leyla?" Ozan whispered against her skin, his lips lingering just above the bone, his voice thick with desire. "To make me lose control like this?"
Leyla could feel the heat rising in her chest, her body aching to pull him closer, but she resisted. She wasn't going to let him think she'd give in so easily. Her hands, trembling, slid up his chest, her fingers brushing against his neck. "You're insufferable," she murmured, though the words were weak, her voice full of longing she refused to acknowledge.
Ozan's hand slid up her back, pulling her closer to him, his lips finally finding hers in a slow, almost tortured kiss. The moment their lips met, the world around them seemed to disappear entirely. It was only them. The chemistry, the tension, the hunger—it all collapsed into the single, intense connection of their kiss.
Leyla's hands fisted in the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer, unable to resist anymore. His tongue slipped past her lips, tasting her as if he couldn't get enough, each stroke sending waves of heat crashing through her body.
He pulled back slightly, their lips barely apart, breath mingling between them. His voice was barely a whisper, laden with a possessive edge. "I've waited so long for this, Leyla. I won't let you pull away now."