𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐀𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 (𝐄𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟕 : 𝐏𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

⚠️ This chapter contains 18+ content if you are underage or not comfortable in reading that you can skip that part.

POV AUTHOR:

"Aap kuch bol kyu nahi rahe ho? Bole na...," I murmured, desperation slipping into my voice. I searched Rana sa's eyes, hoping he'd respond, but his expression remained unreadable. My heart pounded as he suddenly, fiercely, pinned me against the shower wall, his grip firm yet careful. His intense gaze held a storm, making my breaths come short.

(Why aren't you saying anything? Say something)

"Kyu? Kaun lagta hai woh aapka, jo itni fikr ho rahi hai apko?" he demanded, his tone sharp with barely restrained anger.

(Why? Who is he to you, that you're so worried about him?)

"Aur humne aapko mana kiya tha na last time? Toh phir kyu, Anvi?" His voice was low and dangerous, yet there was something captivating in it. His ruffled hair, the fire in his eyes, the way he held me every detail of him seemed to send my mind spinning in unexpected, thrilling directions.

(Didn't I warn you last time? So why, Anvi?)

I mentally scolded myself. *Stop it, Anvi! This isn't the time for such thoughts!*

"But aap ek baar..." I started, but he cut me off. (But if you could just...)

"Strip."

The single word, short and forceful, left me speechless. Goosebumps rose along my skin, and I could only stare at him, my mind struggling to process what he'd just commanded.

"Rana sa... kya aap hosh mein ho? Aap kya keh rahe ho?" I stammered, unsure whether I'd heard him right. My cheeks burned, my heart racing as I tried to comprehend his demand.

(Rana Sa... are you in your senses? Do you know what you're saying?)

"Yes, biwi," he replied with a hint of dark amusement. "I'm very much in my senses, and I know exactly what I'm saying. Strip, Rani sa." He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Isn't this what you wanted? Why else would you go to that club?" His words were sharp, layered with both accusation and an intensity that held me captive.

My pulse quickened. His words, his anger-it was intoxicating, and I found myself clenching my thighs without realizing it. Rana sa's eyes noticed, his lips curving into a knowing smirk that only deepened my growing desire.

"What are you thinking Rani sa? Strip, or shall I do the honors?" His voice was a low, dangerous whisper as he closed the distance between us, his gaze never leaving mine. My mind reeled, torn between resisting and surrendering. His presence, his energy-it was like a fire pulling me in.

"How badly do you want to get fucked by me biwi?" Rana sa said while leaning towards me and I felt a pointed thing poking my waist I turned my gaze towards it and saw a gun in Rana sa's hand making me shock

"Tell me jaan I am waiting" he again said while moving the gun up and down from my waist to my hips and the shirt which I was wearing was not helping me in the situation making my core wet and my nipples got more hardened.

I barely managed to stammer out, "Rana sa, yeh gun kyu...". He glanced at it-a sleek, silver gun held casually in his hand-and his gaze returned to mine, challenging.

(Rana sa why this gun?)

"This, biwi, is part of your punishment," he murmured, his voice thick with possessiveness. "Today, I won't fuck you. This will do the job. Let's see if you still crave disobedience after this." He pressed the gun against my waist, and a cold shiver rippled down my spine as the icy metal met my skin.

"It will hurt, Rana sa..." I whispered, my voice barely audible above the sound of the shower. I felt vulnerable under his piercing gaze, stripped bare in every way.

"It's your punishment jaan," he replied, his eyes softening for just a moment before his fingers trailed along my neck, his lips pressing gentle, lingering kisses against my skin. His touch was a maddening contrast-a gentle promise with a darker undertone. He knew just where to kiss, where to nip, leaving trails of warmth wherever his lips landed.

He moved lower, pausing at my collarbone before his eyes locked with mine once more. "Are you uncomfortable, jaana?" His question took me by surprise, the concern in his voice stirring something deep within me. I shook my head, my breath hitching, my pulse racing as he leaned even closer.

Without another word, his lips claimed mine, hot and demanding. I responded instinctively, matching his intensity, my fingers fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. He shrugged it off, the fabric landing on the wet floor along with mine, leaving us pressed together, bare and vulnerable.

"Jump," he commanded softly, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, his strong arms supporting me as he pressed me harder against the cold wall. The mix of cold water and his warm, insistent kisses was intoxicating. Every touch, every look made my mind spin as he explored the sensitive skin along my neck, trailing lower until a gasp escaped my lips.

The cold metal of the gun against my core was shocking, unexpected, making me gasp as he watched my reaction, a satisfied smirk on his lips. I tried to close my legs, but his grip tightened, his voice low and commanding.

"Don't close it, jaan. Not unless you want your punishment to get worse," he whispered, his gaze dark and steady on mine, a challenge in his eyes. I felt completely exposed, vulnerable under his intense stare, as if he could see right into me, see all my thoughts, my feelings.

He pushed the gun deeper, slowly, watching every flicker of emotion on my face as a whimper slipped past my lips. The sensation was a mixture of pain and pleasure, a reminder of the line he'd drawn-the line I'd crossed. His grip on me tightened, his lips returning to mine, claiming me, drowning my moans as he continued, unrelenting.

Tears pricked at my eyes, the intensity almost too much to bear. But even as they fell, his lips were there, catching each tear, his touch both a comfort and a punishment. The unyielding, fierce expression on his face softened as he whispered against my lips, his voice laced with a gentler note, "You're mine, Rani sa"

When he finally pulled the gun away, I let out a shuddering breath, a mix of frustration and relief. But before I could react, he placed it against my lips.

"Lick it, Rani sa. Taste yourself. Remember this time I was lenient with the punishment if today's event again repeated then next time I will fuck you myself so hard while infront of the dead body of the person who will dare to touch what's mine and about you I will make sure that you will not be able to walk for one month"." His voice was unyielding, leaving no room for argument as he held my gaze. I obeyed, feeling a blush rise to my cheeks, but his eyes remained fixed on mine, never straying, his intensity unwavering.

His lips claimed mine once more, this time softer, as if sealing the moment. I felt every inch of his presence as his hands cradled my face, his kiss an intoxicating blend of anger, passion, and something else something that felt a lot like possession.

"You taste like heaven, biwi," he murmured, his breath warm against my skin as he kissed me deeply, his hands threading through my hair, pulling me close.

As the water cascaded down over us, I let myself be held, feeling the weight of his unspoken promises and the tension that had bound us unraveling, if only slightly.

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Miss Sharma ❤️