𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑯𝒚𝒎𝒏 𝒕𝒐 𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒚

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 43

The two of them padded quietly down the hallway, a sense of unease and uncertainty hanging in the air between them. As they reached the doorway to their shared bedroom, Ishani hesitated, glancing at Armaan.

"I...I don't know if this is a good idea," she whispered, her eyes searching his for reassurance.

Armaan placed his hand on the small of her back, his voice gentle and reassuring. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

The memories flooded back to her like a raging river, each one more intense and passionate than the last. Ishani's heart thundered in her chest as she remembered the touch of Armaan's hands on her skin, the sound of his voice in the throes of passion, the taste of his lips on hers.

She closed her eyes for a moment, the rush of memories almost overwhelming her. When she opened them again, she met Armaan's gaze, her eyes dark with desire.

"I missed you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

Armaan stepped closer to her, his hand still on the small of her back, his voice husky with desire. "I missed you, too," he murmured, his eyes locked with hers.
Ishani's breath caught in her throat as Armaan leaned in, his lips grazing her ear as he whispered, "Let me show you how much."
His words sent a shiver of longing down her spine, her body responding to his nearness.
"Okay," she whispered back, the word slipping past her lips almost of its own volition.

Armaan's hands moved from her back to her waist, drawing her into him, the heat of his body against hers sending sparks of desire racing through her veins.

His lips trailed down her neck, the whisper-soft caress of his mouth making her tremble with longing.

Ishani's hands slid up Armaan's back, her fingers tracing the contours of his muscles, her touch demanding and urgent.

They were a tangled mass of limbs and desire, their bodies coming together with a desperation that spoke to the depth of their need for each other.

The heat between them rose to a feverish pitch as their hands roamed over each other's bodies, exploring, caressing, teasing.

Armaan's lips found Ishani's once more, his kiss a firestorm of passion, his tongue teasing at the seam of her lips until she opened for him, inviting him in.

They stumbled backwards, nearly tripping over each other in their haste to reach the bed. Armaan's hands moved to the hem of Ishani's shirt, lifting it over her head and discarding it carelessly on the floor.

As their bodies came together again, skin on skin, Ishani's breath hitched in her throat. Armaan's hands roamed over her bare flesh, his touch electric, his fingertips tracing patterns across her ribs and over the curve of her hips.

Ishani's hands found their way to Armaan's pants, her fingers quickly undoing the button and zipper, pushing them to the floor.

He stood before her, bare and beautiful, his body a sculpture of muscle and desire.

Armaan's hands slid up Ishani's sides, cupping her breasts, his thumbs brushing against her already-hardened nipples.

"You're so beautiful," he breathed, his voice thick with need.

"I've missed you so much," Ishani moaned, her body arching into his touch.

Armaan's lips trailed down her neck, his tongue tracing a line of fire over her collarbone.

"I've missed you, too," he murmured, his words a whispered promise of what was to come.

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