Chapter Thirteen
Asli's chest heaved, her anger and frustration simmering just below the surface.
"Imagine me as your lover." He advised, flatly. Instinctively, she touched her tightly, as if looking for her gun.
The sound of him being her lover was enough for her to shoot him. He was lucky she left her gun in the washroom.
'Never. She would never be his lover. Not even when she was unconscious.' she cursed under her breath. A smirk escaped his lips and she wished to wipe it off.
The music began and it became a blur, the repetition grating on her nerves. But she refused to break. This was more than a blackmail to her. He had dared her.
"I think you need help." He spoke over the music. "Oh, don't stop." He immediately urged her to continue. This time around, his tone was not like the usual. It sounded seductive.
She swallowed as he neared her. "I'm going to touch you. Tell me to stop if and when you start to hate it." He whispered into her ears. She should've pushed him away but something about his words sent a shiver down her spine. The music pulsed around them, but Asli's heart beat faster, anticipation and wariness moving within.
She should've pushed him away, should've told him to back off. But her body seemed rooted to the spot, paralyzed by whatever it was that was in his voice.
Ahmet's fingers grazed her arm, sending sparks through her skin. His touch was feather-light, yet it ignited a fire within.
"Listen to the music. Feel the rhythm," he whispered again, his breath caressing her ear.
Asli's eyes fluttered closed as Ahmet's hands explored her curves, tracing the contours of her body. His touch was a gentle persuasion, coaxing her to surrender.
For a moment, she forgot her anger, her revenge, forgot the reason she was dancing for him in the first place. Forgot everything except the sensation of his breath on hers.
But as his hands drifted lower, her instincts kicked in. She snapped her eyes open, her gaze locking onto Ahmet's.
His eyes burned with desire, and for an instant, she saw something there, something that looked almost like… desire.
"Tell me to stop," he whispered, his lips inched from hers.
Her voice caught in her throat. She should've mentioned the words he spoke and should've pushed him away. But the words wouldn't come.
Her voice barely registered above a whisper. "Stop."
Ahmet's smile widened, and for a moment, he wished he hadn't asked her to say it. His hands stopped hovering above her skin.
She felt exposed and vulnerable while he turned her face to meet hers.
His gaze locked onto hers, searching. Then, with a deliberate slowness, he touched his forehead on hers, as if he were fighting some demons.
He then pushed himself back and then later to where the music played. He stopped it and her eyes never left his.
"You're angry," Ahmet teased, his voice low and husky.
Asli's jaw clenched. How could she allow him to touch her?
"Next time we meet again, I expect you to dance better," Ahmet whispered, his lips curling into a sly smile.
"Next time? There isn't going to be a next time. We had a deal. I danced and…"
"Do you consider this a dance? It was heartbreaking watching you. All I have to do is remember your dance and I will be laughing for years." Ahmet wouldn't stop teasing. "I'll call you. Until then, learn how to dance better. Think of my touch whenever you dance. That should do it."
Her cheeks flushed. He was so full of himself.
"Feel free to pretend I am touching you when you touch yourself tonight," Ahmet said, his voice dripping with seduction.
Her eyes widened. How dare he?
But before she could respond, Ahmet turned and strode away, leaving her stunned and unsettled, her thoughts swirling with self-doubt.
She couldn't even utter a word or quarrel with him.
*******
Ahmet's eyelids fluttered, his breathing deepening. His body relaxed and sank into the mattress. Suddenly, his fingers twitched, and his hands curled into fists. His lips parted as a soft exhale escaped from them.
He could see the figure drawing closer, her features becoming clearer. Her presence commanded power yet she was made vulnerable before him.
His chest rose and fell with increasing rhythm. His legs shifted as if trying to move closer. Ahmet's body arched, his back pressing into the mattress.
He was dreaming of Asli. Why was she in his dream? Most of his dreams were about guns and escapes. Fires and teargas.
This was different.
His hands clenched, releasing a soft, involuntary groan.
His fingers grazed Asli's arm, and he felt her tremble. Her eyes fluttered closed, and he sensed her surrender.
This was not a dream. Or was it?
Her body was responsive, supple, and inviting. His desire surged, but he kept his touch light, teasing.
He wanted to push her boundaries, to test her limits. To see how far she'd let him go. To see if she'd grasped his wrist and slammed him to the ground.
As he explored her curves, Ahmet's gaze locked onto hers. Her eyes snapped open, and for an instant, they burned with a fire that matched his own.
Her lips parted, and his heart quickened. He leaned in, his breath mingling with hers. How would her lips taste?
"Tell me to stop," he whispered, his voice husky.