𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊
In a world where love can be both a breathtaking beauty and a destructive force, the Raghuvanshi brothers find themselves entangled in a web of tangled emotions.
The eldest, a dynamic business tycoon, hides behind a cold facad...
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•AVYAANA •
There are so many words to describe a beautiful woman, but my namesake husband Shivaansh just said "Good" when he saw me in that sexy red gown.
Good? That's the last thing anyone would think seeing their wife dolled up in a pretty dress like that. But of course, men and their bare minimum efforts to praise a woman.
I'd never settle for just "good" when describing Shivansh, even if he was wearing that same basic black suit. Words like that don't do justice to his muscular build, those ripped arms, and that chiseled face.
"And yet he calls you just 'good' when you look this incredible?" I heard my inner voice saying.
Right then, I made up my mind. I wasn't letting him off that easily. He was going to know just how "good" I really looked.
As I climbed into the car, I scooted closer to Shivansh than I meant to. Even I was surprised by my boldness. It was like being around him unleashed a whole new side of me. A side I didn't know existed.
The car lurched to a stop, and my hand, completely by accident, landed on his thigh. His reaction was instant- fists clenched, jaw tight, and a flicker of something crossed his face.
I couldn't help but smirk.
Seeing him all tense only made me want to tease him more. I kept my hand right where it was.
"Can you...move over a little?" he mumbled, his eyes darting all over me in a way that sent shivers down my spine.
Instead of creating some space, I leaned in closer until my lips were almost grazing his ear.
"Am I distracting you?" I purred in a low, sultry tone. I could feel him inhaling sharply and his eyes darkend our lips just distance away from eachother.
Then, he reached for my hand and held it tight. My stomach did a somersault. The way he said it, so low and husky, made me melt.
" If you keep tormenting me like this, I can't be held responsible for what I'll do to you when we get home.” he growled, his voice like dark chocolate.
The words sent a shiver down my spine that felt more like a flare. My core tightened, a delicious ache blooming deep within me. Butterflies were a distant memory replaced by a frantic swarm of something wilder, something hungrier.And a terrifyingly exciting part of me didn't want to stop playing with fire at all.
But I knew The cost of playing with the fire so the rest of the drive I didn't utter a word just kept stealing glances at him
A jolt passed through me. The tension etched on his face was highlighted by the dramatic glow cast by the streetlights. With every ragged breath, his jaw clenched and unclenched, mirroring my own frantic rhythm. His forearms' corded muscles appeared to tremble beneath the flimsy shirt, his raw power thrilling and menacing at the same time.
