Chapter 83: Chapter 83

Zahir spotted Emily standing alone near the food table, her back turned toward him. He saw an opportunity and sauntered over with a smirk plastered on his face.

"Oh my god, the Siamese twins are separated? How will you survive?” He taunted, crossing his arms.

Emily turned, rolling her eyes as she picked up a snack.

“If I didn’t know better, Zahir, I would think you were jealous.” She smirked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Jealous? Of him? For you? Come on, Emily, don’t flatter yourself. That’s a bit too delusional, even for you.” Zahir scoffed, though a faint flush of pink crept up his neck.

Emily tilted her head, giving him a knowing grin.

"Mmm, whatever sails your boat, bad boy." She rolled her eyes again, but there was amusement in her tone.

Zahir stepped closer, his presence suddenly feeling heavier, more intense.

"Please, Aaron and I aren't even in the same league," he shot back, though his voice sounded less sure now, a bit shaky.

Emily let out a laugh, clearly enjoying ruffling his feathers.

"Oh, right. So you're definitely not jealous of my Ron then?" She teased, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

Zahir clenched his jaw, but he was trying to act unaffected.

"Ron? Seriously? You need to work on your taste, Emily."

"Oh, and what should I go for? Bad boys with attitude problems?" She shot back, her lips quirking up in a sly grin.

"Maybe you would enjoy it more than you think," he muttered, stepping even closer, the space between them disappearing.

Emily blinked, the teasing atmosphere shifting slightly as the tension between them spiked. Her smirk wavered, and she met his gaze.

"Oh? And what makes you think that?"

Without thinking, Zahir's eyes flicked to her lips, and before he could stop himself, he leaned in. The moment his lips touched hers, it was electric—impulsive, unexpected, but undeniable. Emily’s eyes widened in surprise, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she responded, pressing back with just as much intensity.

The kiss deepened, and suddenly, Zahir’s arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer. Emily’s hands instinctively slid up to his chest, gripping the fabric of his leather jacket as the heat between them built rapidly. The banter was gone, replaced by something raw and powerful.

They broke apart for a split second, both panting, faces inches apart. Emily’s voice was breathless as she said, “Well, this is... unexpected.”

Zahir smirked, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip.

“Still think I am jealous of Aaron?” He murmured, his voice low and teasing.

Emily rolled her eyes again, but this time it was accompanied by a breathless laugh.

"You are still a jerk," she whispered, before pulling him back in for another heated kiss.

The kiss intensified, turning into a battle of wills, neither Zahir nor Emily willing to back down. Emily pushed against Zahir’s chest, but not to break free—more like a challenge, as if daring him to take control. Zahir, never one to back down from a challenge, pressed her harder against the nearby wall, his hands sliding up her sides, fingers curling possessively around her waist.

Emily smirked against his lips, biting down on his lower lip just enough to sting, but not to hurt. Zahir growled in response, deepening the kiss even more, his tongue demanding entrance, which Emily granted after a teasing delay. She was clearly trying to keep up with him, matching his intensity, but Zahir was determined to prove a point.

As their lips clashed and tongues battled, Emily's nails dug into his shoulders, pulling him closer, but Zahir’s hands roamed freely now, one sliding up to tangle in her hair, while the other gripped her waist tightly. He broke away from her lips for a moment, his breath heavy, and without warning, his lips descended to her neck.

Emily gasped as Zahir’s lips trailed down her throat, his hot breath sending shivers down her spine. His kisses were fierce, hungry, but when he reached the sensitive spot on her neck, he deliberately slowed down. He nipped at her skin, and Emily’s gasp turned into a soft moan as she felt his teeth graze her.

Then, he did it. He bit down slightly harder, his lips following with a rough kiss, and she felt the unmistakable sting of a hickey forming. It wasn’t subtle, either—he was leaving a mark, claiming her in a way that made it obvious. Emily’s breath hitched as Zahir’s mouth moved lower, leaving another hickey just above her collarbone, as though staking his claim even further.

“Zahir,” Emily managed to breathe out between kisses, her voice a mix of frustration and desire. “What are you...?”

He pulled back, smirking at the visible marks on her neck.

“Just making a point," he said in a low, husky voice, his fingers tracing the fresh hickeys as if to make sure they were prominent enough.

Emily’s eyes flashed with defiance.

"Oh, really?" She shot back, her voice challenging despite her breathlessness. She grabbed his face and pulled him into another fiery kiss, her lips and tongue just as aggressive as his. Her hands slid down his chest and gripped the waistband of his jeans, tugging slightly to pull him closer.

But Zahir wasn’t going to let her win so easily. He growled low in his throat, gripping her hips with enough force to make her gasp again, and pushed her back against the wall, his body pressing firmly against hers. He kissed her again, hard and demanding, but broke away from her lips once more to return to her neck, this time placing slower, more deliberate kisses, each one designed to remind her that he was in control.

“Zahir,” she whispered, her breath ragged, her resolve starting to slip. His lips found another spot on her neck, and he sucked harder this time, leaving yet another mark.

Emily shivered under his touch but wasn’t about to let him completely dominate. She pulled his hair sharply, forcing his mouth away from her neck and back to her lips. The kiss was wild, both of them refusing to yield, hands gripping, pulling, each trying to take control of the moment.

But as much as Emily fought back, Zahir’s possessiveness was overwhelming. His lips were back on her neck within seconds, and this time, he made sure the marks he left were unmistakable.

Emily’s chest rose and fell rapidly as she tried to catch her breath, but the fierce determination in her eyes hadn’t waned. She could feel Zahir’s possessiveness all over her, his lips leaving marks as if branding her. But if he thought he could have the upper hand so easily, he was wrong.

“Oh, you’re not the only one who can make a point,” Emily whispered, her voice sultry, though there was a dangerous edge to it. She was no damsel, and Zahir would learn that soon enough.

Before Zahir could respond, Emily pushed him back, surprising him with her sudden forcefulness. He stumbled for a second but quickly regained his footing, his brow furrowing in confusion. Emily’s hands grabbed the collar of his shirt, and she yanked him toward her, crashing her lips against his with just as much hunger and intensity as before. But this time, it was different. This time, Emily was in control.

She bit his lower lip harder, forcing a groan out of him, and smirked against his mouth. She moved swiftly, her lips leaving his and moving to his jawline, kissing, nipping, and grazing her teeth along his skin. Zahir’s breath hitched as Emily’s hands gripped his shoulders, pinning him in place, her lips leaving a mark.

“You think you’re the only one who can leave marks?” Emily whispered, her voice low and challenging. She nipped at his earlobe and then moved to his neck, placing a series of quick, assertive kisses that were less about tenderness and more about making her presence known.

Zahir growled, the sound a mix of frustration and pleasure, as Emily’s lips found another sensitive spot on his neck. She sucked lightly, leaving a hickey of her own. Zahir’s grip on her hips tightened, and he tried to shift his body to keep up with her relentless energy. But Emily was determined not to let him dominate this moment entirely.

She pulled back slightly, surveying her handiwork. Zahir’s neck was now dotted with her marks, and she couldn’t help but smirk in satisfaction.

“Looks like you’ve got some competition,” she said with a breathless laugh, her eyes dancing with mischief.

“Just so you know, this doesn’t mean anything,” Emily added haughtily, her voice holding a challenging edge.

Zahir raised an eyebrow, his expression a mix of amusement and exasperation.

“As if I need a reminder!” He scoffed, his tone dismissive yet teasing.

Emily rolled her eyes, turning on her heel to walk away, her stride purposeful and confident. Zahir watched her for a moment, shaking his head with a wry smile before he turned and walked in the opposite direction.