Far Side of the Dolunay

Olur (7. Bölüm)

A/N: Ok, here we go: kiss var! 😬 Here is my version of The Kiss and the aftermath. A long chapter, but I couldn't resist going into the swoon and details for what I imagined to be a tender, sensual night where Nazlı and Ferit just let themselves feel. I've never written a kiss scene, and I know there are lots of people who also consider this one of the best on-screen kisses ever - so I hope my written version does it justice. It's amazing to me that people like to read what I've written, your reads, votes and comments are truly so, so appreciated: thank you all! 😘

'I remember.'

Something about walking away while feeling the tear tracks drying on her face had jogged her memory. Nazlı couldn't stop herself from turning but dreaded having to look into those dark eyes and tell him that he was right. That he shouldn't have trusted her, should have kept her at a distance like every other woman.

Except she didn't want to be like any other woman to him.

While they'd been sitting together she'd forgotten, distracted by that odd intimacy that came from getting drunk with someone for whom you hadn't clarified your feelings. Just the two of you. Both knowing that you were heading down a path that would only lead to lowered inhibitions and irreversible decisions, and lining up the glass for another pour regardless.

But now she remembered. She was so close to telling him, there had been so many opportunities tonight alone. She was so close. He was so close. So close that he was all she could see, all she could hear, the garden blurring around him.

Oh, her head was all over the place. Nazlı, focus. Speak.

But Ferit Bey stalled her thoughts when he reached out and skimmed a light touch down her arm, wrapping his long fingers around her hand to rub his thumb across her knuckles, the touch rippling up her arm towards her chest. Her heart started beating faster.

'Forget it,' he said.

She wanted to. So badly that she stayed still, aware of the pleading in her eyes even as she replied.

'I can't forget it.' Make me forget.

As though he heard the part she didn't say, he brought his other hand up to her cheek, his thumb sweeping fire across her cheekbone. Nazlı drew a sharp breath, her eyes dropping closed at the sensation.

'Forget it,' he whispered again.

'It can't happen.' She didn't know where the words came from. Didn't mean them anyway.

He searched her expression for an endless moment then smiled slightly, his voice low, sending sparks up her spine.

'It can.'

She should leave now. His eyes dropped to her mouth. She stayed still, entranced by his face coming closer as if in slow motion.

He leaned down. They closed their eyes. And finally, finally, he touched his lips to hers.

For a second the echo of the first brief, bold kiss was suspended in the thick air between them while they paused, absorbing the impact - and then suddenly he who was usually so still and composed and she who had been so determined to leave both surged into constant motion.

His mouth devoured hers, pulling her closer, deeper into the kiss. He traced her lips before she opened to receive the wet slide of his tongue, and then again, matching his rhythm. His hand tightened gently in her hair, holding her this way and that way for the best angle to stroke hotly into her.

Craving like she'd never felt before fixed her in place, insisted she stay right here so all she felt was him, so the only taste on her tongue was him, so the only air in her lungs was the breath she drew from his mouth into her own.