No strings attached |(UNDER REVISION)

Chapter 13- Tempting night

⚠️Warning: This chapter contains mature content (18+). Reader discretion is advised.

AIAH'S POV

The dim glow of city lights filtered through the massive windows of Zara's private lounge, casting soft shadows across the sleek leather couch where I sat. The place was extravagant-modern, sophisticated, and undoubtedly expensive. A perfect reflection of Zara herself.

She moved with effortless confidence as she poured wine into two glasses, the faint clink of crystal breaking the silence between us. When she turned, she held one out to me, her smirk never fading.

"Red for the lady," she said smoothly, taking the seat beside me. Close-too close. Our thighs brushed, and I could feel the heat of her body seeping into mine.

I took the glass, swirling the wine before taking a slow sip. "So," I murmured, lowering it. "Anong trip mo, Zara?"

She tilted her head, one brow arching as she rested an elbow against the back of the couch. "You tell me," she mused. "You didn't exactly say no when I pulled you away."

I smirked, leaning back. "Maybe gusto ko lang makita kung hanggang saan mo kayang umabot."

Zara let out a low chuckle, eyes gleaming with something dangerously close to amusement and challenge. She set her glass down on the table beside her, then turned fully toward me, one hand lifting to trail light fingers down my arm. The touch was fleeting but deliberate.

I didn't move. I just watched her.

"Tell me, Aiah," she murmured, voice dipping lower. "Ikaw ba... top o bottom?"

I let out a quiet laugh, finally setting my glass down. My hand shot out before she could react, cupping her jaw with just enough pressure to make her still. Her lips parted slightly, surprise flickering across her face.

"Try me," I whispered.

A challenge. A promise. A dare wrapped in two simple words.

Zara's gaze darkened. And then, just like that, her smirk returned, slow and sinful. Her fingers gripped the hem of her shirt, and in one fluid motion, she pulled it over her head, letting the fabric drop to the floor.

She leaned in, so close our noses almost brushed. "Careful what you ask for," she murmured. "You just might get it."

Zara didn't hesitate. She closed the small space between us, her lips capturing mine in a kiss that was slow, deliberate-testing. I could feel the smirk she was trying to hold back, like she was waiting for me to push her away.

I didn't.

Instead, I let her kiss me. I let her press closer, her hands sliding up my arms before resting against my shoulders. She was good-too good. The kind of person who knew exactly what she was doing, how to take control, how to make someone melt under her touch.

But she wasn't the only one who could play.

I kissed her back, matching her intensity. My hand tangled in her hair, pulling just enough to earn a sharp inhale from her. Zara let out a quiet chuckle against my lips before deepening the kiss, her hands moving to my waist, fingers teasing against the hem of my shirt.

She pulled back just enough to look at me, her eyes dark with something unreadable. "Didn't expect you to let me get this far," she murmured, breath warm against my skin.

I smirked. "You think too highly of yourself."

Zara grinned, fingers slipping under my shirt, her nails grazing against my skin as she leaned in again. "Oh, Aiah," she whispered, her lips brushing against mine. "I think we both know you're enjoying this."