Shreyansh sat on the edge of the bed, his broad shoulders relaxed, yet his gaze was anything but. His dark eyes—glazed with the effect of alcohol—held Arya captive, burning with a hunger she could feel in the air between them.
"I already warned you…" he muttered, voice husky, slurred but laced with something dangerously seductive. "You shouldn’t wear sarees in front of me."
Arya swallowed hard, her fingers gripping the fabric at her waist, heart hammering against her ribs.
"They’re my weakness—above everything else, you are my weakness."
His confession sent a shiver through her, but before she could react, before she could protest or step away, Shreyansh reached for her.
His fingers toyed with the hem of her saree, slow, deliberate, teasing.
"You have no idea what you do to me,"* he murmured, leaning closer, his breath warm against her skin. "All I can think about is unraveling this inch by inch, tracing every curve, tasting every inch of you."
Arya’s breath hitched, her pulse erratic.
"Shit, Arya…" He exhaled sharply, shaking his head as if trying to ground himself. "You don’t even need to try and I’m already losing my mind."
He reached for her then, pulling her onto the bed, their bodies pressed together, the heat between them unbearable.
His fingers found her chin, tilting her face up to meet his.
"You’re a damn seductress—" he whispered against her lips, teasing, "without doing a damn thing, you ruin me."
Arya shivered.
"I want to devour you." His voice was rough, unfiltered, drunk with both whiskey and longing. "And tonight? You won’t be able to resist."
His grip tightened just slightly, just enough for her breath to tremble, just enough for her to realize—
She didn’t want to resist.
With a sly smile, Shreyansh captured Arya’s lips, his cold mouth pressing against her warm skin, sending a shiver down her spine. The kiss was slow, teasing, a contradiction of tenderness and possession. His lips moved deliberately, savoring her, coaxing her into surrender.
Arya melted against him, her body responding before her mind could protest. His touch was firm, yet careful, as though he was memorizing every inch of her, claiming her in ways she hadn’t even realized she’d longed for.
As he deepened the kiss, she tasted the faint bitterness of whiskey, mixing with the natural sweetness of his mouth. The contrast left her dizzy, drowning in the sensation, lost in the way he consumed her. Her fingers curled into his shoulders, her breath shaky as she tried to steady herself against the storm unraveling inside her.
Shreyansh’s hands moved with purpose, his fingers tracing delicate patterns along her skin, igniting fires in places she hadn’t expected. Each touch burned away the remnants of hesitation, stripping her of her defenses, leaving her exposed—vulnerable—but somehow safe.
A breathless whimper escaped her lips, muffled by his own. Her body arched toward him, craving the heat, the closeness, the impossible pull between them.
YOU ARE READING
𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞💕 ( 𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐞)✔
Romance"She was his everything-until she became his assassin." Shreyansh loved Arya with his whole soul. But the woman he trusted most shot him and walked away. Now he's back. Alive. And hell-bent on revenge. But they're not the only ones tangled in love...
