His Replaced Dhulhan || 18+ ✔

|17.| Honeymoon?

"What in the world? Costa Brava, Spain?" I exclaimed, my voice almost a shriek. "It's three in the morning, for crying out loud, Vansh!" I snapped, still groggy from the sudden wake-up call. Just an hour and a half ago, Vansh had roused me from a deep sleep, hastily getting me ready for some mysterious destination.

And now, standing in front of his car, he dropped the bombshell: Costa Brava, Spain. "I know, anything else, your highness?" he retorted, his sarcasm palpable. I ignored his jibe, my mind racing. "And why, pray tell, are we heading to Costa Brava?" I demanded.

"Why do you think newlywed couples travel the world?" he asked, a sly grin spreading across his face. "For their honeymoon," I replied, my voice mechanical, before the realization hit me like a ton of bricks. "Whoa, wait a minute. I'm not going anywhere!" I protested, attempting to turn back, but Vansh's grip on my waist was too strong.

He lifted me off the ground, my feet dangling in mid-air, leaving me helpless and frustrated.

I tried to unleash a blood-curdling scream, but Vansh's hand shot up like a lightning bolt, his palm clamping down on my mouth with a vice-like grip, suffocating my cry before it could escape my lips.

With a swift motion, Vansh swept me into the passenger seat of his car, his hands grasping mine with a firm yet gentle touch. He leaned in close, his face inches from mine, his warm breath caressing my skin as he secured the seatbelt around me.

The proximity of his face, the intensity of his gaze, and the tender pressure of his hands on my waist left me speechless, my heart racing with a mix of excitement and apprehension As he locked the car door with a soft click, I felt a sense of being enveloped in his presence, trapped in a space where time stood still.

And then, he slid into the driver's seat, his eyes never leaving mine, the silence between us palpable and electric.

Then, with a smooth turn of the key, the car roared to life, the engine purring like a contented beast. The sound was low and husky, a gentle rumble that seemed to vibrate through every cell of my body. As the car began to move, the wheels hummed against the pavement, a soothing melody that harmonized with the thrum of the engine.

𐦍༘⋆

"Wow!" I breathed, my eyes wide with wonder as I gazed up at the massive plane looming before me. "We're taking your private jet?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Vansh nodded, his expression nonchalant. "Then why on earth did you choose to leave at 3 am?" I exclaimed, my frustration and exhaustion boiling over. "Why not at a decent hour?" I lamented, my voice cracking with a mix of fatigue and exasperation. But Vansh simply shrugged and turned to board the plane, leaving me to trail behind him, my feet heavy with reluctance.

As I stepped aboard, I prepared myself for a lavish but tacky display of wealth, but instead, I was met with a sophisticated and refined interior that exuded elegance. The royal blue and white color scheme was both calming and luxurious, creating a sense of serenity and poise. Plush, cozy chairs beckoned me to sink into their comfort, while sleek, modern amenities, and cutting-edge technology blended seamlessly into the design.

Vansh was reclined in one of the plush chairs, his eyes closed and his head resting against the soft cushion of the headrest. He looked serene and peaceful, his chest rising and falling with each gentle breath.

I made my way over to him and settled into the adjacent chair, my body sinking into the comfort of the luxurious seat. As I sat beside him, I felt a sense of closeness and intimacy, the proximity of our bodies creating a sense of togetherness in the midst of the vast, open space of the private jet.

Ha! I've had my fill of sleep, and now I'm wide awake and ready to wreak havoc on my dear husband's peaceful morning.

A mischievous grin spreads across my face as I plot my playful revenge. I can't help but silently chuckle at the thought of Vansh's serene expression transforming into one of exasperation. My mind races with creative ways to pester him, and I revel in the joy of being a playful nuisance.

I assumed he was completely absorbed in a deep slumber, his chest rising and falling with slow, steady breaths. So, I decided to play a sneaky trick on him, my heart racing with excitement and mischief.

I slowly and silently opened my purse, the soft creak of the zipper echoing through the quiet space. I pulled out a vibrant red lipstick, the color so bold it seemed to pulsate in my hand.

I leaned over his seat, my long hair falling like a curtain around my face, trying to stifle a giggle that threatened to escape my lips. I began to carefully apply the lipstick to his cheek, my strokes gentle and precise, the soft scratch of the lipstick on his skin, the only sound breaking the silence.

But just as I was about to add a pop of color to his lips, his hand suddenly grasped mine, his fingers wrapping around my wrist like a vice. His grip was warm and strong, sending a jolt of surprise through my body. I felt my heart skip a beat, my pulse racing like a wild animal.

He slowly opened his eyes, his gaze locking onto mine with an intensity that made my knees feel weak and my pulse race even faster. His eyes seemed to bore into my soul, searching for secrets and desires. I felt caught and vulnerable, like a deer in the headlights, unable to move or look away.

With a deliberate slowness, he guided the lipstick towards my mouth, his eyes burning into mine with an unspoken intensity. Then, with a soft, gentle stroke, he painted my lips a vibrant red, the color blooming like a rose on my skin.

His gaze remained fixed on mine, his eyes blazing with a fierce focus, as if he was claiming me with every movement.

With a fierce and passionate intensity, he closed the distance between us, his face drawing near until our lips almost touched.

Then, with a soft, sensual pressure, he pressed his lips to mine, the kiss sending shivers down my spine. As he rubbed his lips against mine, the red lipstick transferred from my lips to his, leaving a vibrant crimson mark. Our eyes remained fixed on each other, mine wide with wonder and excitement, as we shared a kiss that seemed to ignite the air around us.

He drew back, his eyes lingering on mine for a long, intense moment, a smirk playing on his lips.

Then, he closed his eyes once more, his face relaxing into a peaceful mask. I settled back into my seat, my fingers tracing the outline of my lips, still feeling the warmth and pressure of his kiss. My gaze remained fixed on his lips, now stained a deep crimson, a bold reminder of our passionate encounter.

I made a silent promise to myself to never again underestimate his awareness, to assume he was lost in slumber when, in reality, he was alert and aware, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

Did we really just kiss? Yes, we did! It was a soft, gentle touch, just a brush of our lips together. But still, it was a kiss, and my heart was racing. I felt a silent scream of someone saying 'Shit'. Probably, it was my inner voice.

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