Leyla's eyes flashed with defiance as she felt his hot breath against her lips. Before Ozan could pull her in closer, she suddenly leaned forward and bit down on his arm, hard enough to make him hiss in surprise.
"Ah—Leyla!" Ozan jerked back slightly, his eyes wide, a mix of shock and amusement flashing across his face.
Leyla used that moment to slip out from under his hold. She glared at him, her chest heaving as she wiped her lips with the back of her hand dramatically.
"No!" she snapped, her voice sharp and breathless. "Those actors are way more handsome than you. End of discussion!"
Her words stabbed straight through Ozan's ego. His jaw clenched as he stared at her, his dark eyes narrowing dangerously.
"You think they're more handsome than me?" he repeated, his voice low and dangerous, almost vibrating with possessiveness.
Leyla opened her mouth to retort, but before she could say another word, Ozan dipped his head down and captured her lips in a fierce, claiming kiss.
His lips moved against hers roughly, punishingly, as if trying to erase the very thought of any other man from her mind.
When he finally pulled back, both of them were breathless. Ozan's forehead rested against hers, his thumb brushing over her lower lip possessively.
"You're mine," he whispered darkly, his voice husky and ragged. "And I won't let you even think about another man ever again."
Leyla glared at him through her heavy breaths, her eyes glinting with frustration and something she refused to name—something dangerously close to longing.
"Keep dreaming," she spat out, though her trembling fingers curled around his shirt unconsciously.
Ozan only chuckled lowly, his smirk dark and triumphant, as if her resistance only fueled him further.