Part 2 of the Rajvanshi series.
To write a tale of emotions.
Of hate, of pain, of joy, of love.
What happens when faith plays it game to bring two people together? When the past of one threatens to rain fire on the lives they built together?
Will...
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He looked in my eyes for what I assume is consent, and I blink at him like a dumbass. He pulls me up like I weigh nothing and now I was standing on the bed. I have to look down at him and his face has a straight view of my chest. He however isn't looking an inch below my face. His eyes are set on mine and his hands are on my waist.
"I need words. Do you want this Samaira?"
My name has never sounded better. The way he says it makes it sound like poetry. "Yes." I barely breathe the words out, when his hands travel down to my ass and pull me closer. His lips are on mine, and I don't think I have ever given up control so easily before. Abhimanyu is a rough kisser. He doesn't care about bruising mine or his own lips. He is fierce with his movements and I love every second of it. He is squeezing my ass while I am running my hands through his hair, tugging them which only seems to encourage him. He pushes me back on the bed and climbs on top of me, not breaking the kiss once.
His hands are everywhere. Every part of my body is on fire under his touch. I have never loved or craved something more than his touch. It's too much and not enough at the same time. He pulls back from the kiss and starts nipping at my neck. He kisses it, bites it, sucks on it. Does whatever he pleases and I just let him. He is so good at all this. Then I hear a tear. And then another. It's like a trance is broken. I look down to see my brassiere and panties ripped to shreds and just lying on the bed. He has gone a little lower and is now sucking my collarbone.
"You said you liked it."
"I also said I would tear it."
"Yeah but I didn't think you would actually do it." He finally pulls back and just looks at me. All of me. Just lying there naked on the bed. He loves it. I know because his beautiful eyes darkened and he is looking at me like he is going to eat me alive. I wouldn't mind if he does that though. But only after he removes those annoying ass clothes from his body. They are pissing me off. I think he knew exactly what i was thinking since he gets down from the bed and starts unbottoning his shirt. He then unbuckles his belt, unzips his trousers and pulls them down. He removes his shirt and I am pretty sure my jaw is on the floor.
This is the first time I have seen him without a shirt and I might just die here. He is fit and his gym hours are paying off but that's not it. Abhimanyu Rajvansh has tattoos. He is not covered in them but they are there. A rough sketch of couple of birds on his ribcage, some words in what looks like French on his chest, right where his heart is. And a barely alive looking rose on that extremely defined v-line. I never thought of him as a person who would be into tattoos but they suit him.
"Done staring?" He asks with a raise of his eyebrow. What does he expect? He is standing there in just his boxers that too have a very prominent bulge.
"Not really." I have zero shame. He is my husband and I have full rights. I am going to stare. He climbs back on the bed, very slowly, sensually, like a predator taking its sweet time because he knows his prey won't go anywhere. Because it's crazy and wants to be killed by his hands. I always knew he would be the death of me anyway.
