The music slowed to a whisper as Zayn pulled me back up, his hand lingering on my waist. For a second, we stood there, breathless and lost in the moment. The electricity between us was undeniable, crackling like a live wire. His eyes searched mine, and before I knew it, he closed the gap.
His lips were on mine, hot and demanding. The kiss was nothing like I'd imagined—intense, urgent, like we'd both been waiting too long for this moment. I melted into him, my fingers curling into his shirt, feeling the solid strength beneath my touch. Zayn's hand cupped my face, his thumb brushing lightly against my cheek, and I could feel every ounce of his passion, his desire, pouring into me.
The room disappeared. All that mattered was the heat of his lips, the way his body pressed against mine, and the dizzying sensation of finally giving in to something that felt so inevitable. His kiss was deep, unrestrained, I moaned into his mouth as I felt my stomach making flip flops.
