Leyla's eyes locked onto the ring, her chest tightening. That ring wasn't just a piece of jewelry—it was her grandmother's, the last thing she had left of her.
Her fingers twitched, instinct screaming at her to snatch it from him, but Ozan was faster. He leaned back slightly, holding it just out of her reach, the smirk on his lips deepening.
"Patience, sweetheart," he drawled. "You want it back? Then earn it."
Leyla clenched her jaw. "Give it back, Ozan. Now."
Ozan tilted his head, pretending to consider. "Hmm. I don't think so. See, you lied to me. Played me. And I don't take betrayal lightly." His gaze darkened. "But… I'm willing to negotiate."
Leyla stiffened. She knew that tone.
"What do you want?" she asked cautiously.
Ozan leaned in, his lips just inches from hers. "Submit to me once," he murmured, his voice like silk over steel. "Or…" He twirled the ring between his fingers. "Give me a kiss. Willingly."
Leyla's breath hitched.
He was toying with her, knowing damn well how much the ring meant. She wanted to punch him, shove him off the bed—but that would only make things worse.
Ozan watched her, waiting, amusement flickering in his gaze as if he already knew she was trapped.
"So, what's it going to be, Leyla?" he taunted. "Your pride… or your ring?"
Leyla's fists clenched, her nails digging into her palms. Her heart pounded, but she kept her expression cold.
"I'm not going to kiss you." Her voice was steady, but Ozan caught the slight tremor in it.
His smirk widened. "No?" He twirled the ring between his fingers. "Then submit."
Leyla's breath caught in her throat.
"Or," he continued, standing up from the bed, "I walk out of here with this." He flicked the ring up, catching it effortlessly, making a show of slipping it into his pocket.
Leyla's pulse spiked. "Ozan," she warned.
He shrugged, turning on his heel. "Your choice, princess."
Panic flared in her chest. That ring was everything. She couldn't let him take it.
Before she could think twice, she grabbed his wrist, stopping him. Ozan froze, glancing over his shoulder, amusement gleaming in his dark eyes.
"Oh?" His voice was taunting. "Changed your mind?"
"Fine," she said through gritted teeth.
Ozan's smirk deepened. Without wasting a second, he stepped toward the door, turned the lock with a sharp click, and pocketed the key.
"No interruptions now," he murmured, his gaze darkening as he turned back to her.
Leyla took a step back, her pulse racing. "Just give me the ring," she said, trying to keep her voice steady.
Ozan stepped closer instead, closing the distance between them. "That's not how this works, Leyla." Her name rolled off his tongue like a promise, dangerous and intoxicating.
He raised a hand, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear before trailing his fingers down her jawline. "You know what I want."
Ozan's smirk deepened as he saw the hesitation flicker in Leyla's eyes. He had her exactly where he wanted. Before she could react, he grabbed her wrist and pushed her back onto the bed, pinning her beneath him. His grip was firm, his presence overwhelming.
"Good girl," he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. "You finally understand who's in control."
Leyla's breath hitched, but she kept her expression neutral. She couldn't let him see the effect he had on her. She had chosen to submit—only because she needed that ring back. But Ozan wasn't going to make it easy for her.
He leaned in, his lips just inches from hers, his warm breath ghosting over her skin. "Now," he whispered, "let's see how much you're willing to give."
Ozan's eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he loomed over Leyla, the reality of her finally being within his grasp sinking in. He had suspected, but now he knew. She had walked right into his den, played a dangerous game, and now she would pay the price. He had no intention of letting her slip away so easily.
Leyla's breath hitched as her back met the bed, Ozan's weight pressing her down, caging her in. His fingers curled around her wrists, pinning them above her head against the silk sheets. There was nowhere to run.
"You chose this, Leyla," he murmured, his voice low, dangerous. His grip tightened just enough to remind her who held control. "For a ring?" He smirked, tilting his head. "Or was it something else?"
Leyla's jaw clenched, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. But her pulse betrayed her, hammering against her throat, her chest rising and falling beneath him. She had known the risk. And yet, she was here. Beneath him. Helpless.
Ozan dipped his head, his breath ghosting over her skin as he traced his nose along the curve of her jawline. His lips barely brushed her skin, a cruel tease. And then—
His tongue flicked against her jaw, slow, deliberate. A silent claim.
Leyla's body tensed. He was toying with her, savoring the moment, dragging it out to make sure she felt every second of her loss.
"You taste just as I imagined," he whispered darkly, his lips brushing her ear. He caught her earlobe between his teeth, nipping down just enough to make her gasp, before soothing the sting with a lingering kiss.
His lips traced lower, trailing down the column of her throat. He sucked, then bit, leaving behind a mark—one that wouldn't fade so easily. Satisfaction curled in his gut as he felt her pulse race beneath his mouth.
"Don't fight it, Leyla." His voice was velvet over steel. "You knew exactly what would happen when you came to me."
He lifted his head, his gaze locking onto hers, dark and consuming. "And now... you're mine."