He moved upward, brushing soft kisses along her jawline, then to her cheek, then the corner of her eye where the faint redness from her earlier worry still lingered.
Each kiss was slow, gentle and almost worshipful.
Zeyra's breathing grew shallower with every touch. Her free hand came up to rest on the back of his neck, fingers threading gently into his damp hair. She tilted her head slightly, offering him more access, her eyes half-closed in bliss.
When Sol finally reached her lips, he paused.
Their faces were so close that their breaths mingled. For a heartbeat, time seemed to slow. This was gonna be their first kiss…born purely from desire and the slow-burning tension that had been building between them for days.
He brushed his lips against hers softly.
Once.
Twice.
Thrice.
A tender, testing touch.
Zeyra let out a tiny, needy sound and leaned in, pressing closer.
