THE RAJHANS SISTERS

MESSING AROUND

One week later...

Nitya awoke to the dull ache of confusion, her mind swirling with the remnants of the previous night's chaos. Blinking against the harsh morning light, she found herself tangled in disarray, her limbs weighed down by the heaviness of uncertainty.

"Good morning, finally Mrs. Nitya Aniket Sharma," his voice cut through the haze, drawing her attention to the figure seated beside her. Aniket, poised with a cup of coffee in hand, watched her with an unreadable expression. His casual demeanor grated against her frayed nerves, igniting a simmering anger within her.

With a sharp intake of breath, Nitya met his gaze, her jaw clenched tight in defiance. She recoiled as he reached out, his touch gentle yet unwelcome, tucking a stray wisp of hair behind her ear. The intimacy of the gesture only fueled her resentment, driving her to the edge of restraint.

The cool air brushed against Nitya's skin as she reached for the doorknob of the washroom. She whirled around as she suddenly felt his presence.

"You might fix your appearance,"Aniket said, his voice low and menacing, "but what about that?"He gestured towards her neck, the tell-tale mark of their passionate encounter the previous night, still vivid against her skin.

Nitya's breath hitched. "You..."she began, her voice a mere whisper.

"Very sexy, isn't it?"Aniket sneered, cutting her off. "I know you don't want to cover it with makeup, but...now that your sister is here, she'll probably think I forced myself on you. She'll accuse me of being a sadist, of domestic violence, of hurting you...hmm...something to think about."

Aniket, sensing her discomfort, ripped off his shirt, revealing a chest marred with scratches, lipstick smudges, and love bites. The sight sent a shiver down her spine. "I have an idea" he said, his voice dripping with false innocence. "I'll go downstairs like this, say I'm heading to the gym. It'll be a bit embarrassing for me, but it's worth it to avoid your sister's accusations"

The audacity of it all choked Nitya. "Shut up!' she hissed, her voice shaking with anger. "You are not going downstairs like this. Put your clothes on now."

He held her hand and pulled her toward him. "Do not mess with me. I warned you, but you didn't listen. Now, suffer the consequences," he said, blowing softly on her neck.

"I'm going downstairs just like this," he declared playfully, releasing her hand and laughing as he slowly stepped out of the washroom.

Nitya's groan echoed in the washroom , a sound of both anguish and self-reproach. She stared at her reflection, the woman in the mirror a stranger, her eyes reflecting the storm raging within. It had all felt so real, so genuine. The stolen kisses, the way his touch ignited a fire within her that she'd never known before. She'd been lost in the warmth of his gaze, the tenderness of his smile, the intoxicating spell of his presence.

How could she have been so foolish? She'd sworn to herself, vowed with a fierce determination that wouldn't let him near her until he reciprocated her feelings, until he looked at her with the same longing that consumed her. Yet, here she was, the promise shattered, her resolve crumbled under the weight of his charm. The memory of his caress lingered, a phantom touch on her skin, a constant reminder of her surrender.

She closed her eyes, the image of his face burning behind her eyelids. It was a betrayal, not just of her own vows, but of the fragile hope that had kept her going, a hope that he might someday feel the same way. Now, the doubt gnawed at her, a bitter truth she couldn't ignore. She'd fallen into his trap, and the only way out was to face the consequences, the bitter taste of heartbreak she'd desperately tried to avoid.