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Mehrotra's are one of the most influential families in the country with five heirs who look after the empire. Despite being cousins, these...
Warning - The chapter contains mature content inclusive of extreme sexual scenes not meant for audience below 18 years of age. If you are underage and still proceeding to read this, do it at your own discretion.
~ ***** ~
One month later
Vihaan's sculpting studio
"Vihaan, is it done already?"
Ashiaa whined trying to stretch her neck for the hundredth time, which made him click his tongue in annoyance. The man frowned at her, causing her to grumble profanities under her breath and straighten up again in the previous pose not wanting to hear his lecture again.
"You are asking this for the 10th time in last 20 minutes and the answer is still the same, just a few more minutes."
She huffed, her body now aching being in the same pose for so long, in actuality she was more bored than tired. They were at Vihaan's sculpting studio as per their weekly schedule during the last month, where she would just explore the place, read books or play some music enjoying the lap of nature while he would either sculpt or paint something. Unlike before, he gathered the courage to ask her if he can paint her, amused yet happy she readily gave in however regretted it now sitting there in front of his as his muse from an hour.
Though, she wasn't complaining much, having him as her view while he painted her on the canvas. She could easily stare at him, admire him without coming across as creepy. The sight pleased her more than anything, him in his rimless spectacles adorning black dress pants and a navy blue shirt. He looked like a meal that she wanted to devour.
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Unknown to her, he had the same condition as hers, with her sitting in front of him giving him heart eyes and staring straight at his soul which made him really conscious. Her indo-western outfit that stole his breath, a spaghetti strap kurta paired with casual boyfriend ripped jeans, silver danglers and one of her wrists filled with silver bangles that made sounds as she played with her hair in between. A small black bindi rested between her brows and he swore it stole his gaze from the black mole just beneath her lower lip.
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