HIS NEED : ISHIKA The Story of Obsession and Revenge

CHAPTER 25 PAINTING 🔞

Double update 💚

AUTHOR POV

Arjun stepped back, his gaze lingering on her eyes painted in soft, vibrant hues, then on the gentle curve of her lips he had painstakingly replicated on canvas.

But it was only a shadow of what he saw when he looked at her, the fire that only she could spark in his chest.

With a soft exhale, he stepped forward, dipping his fingers in cobalt blue, his gaze fixed intently on her as he approached from behind.

"It's not just you, Its my soul" he murmured, his voice gentle but laced with an unspoken promise as he wrapped his arms around her waist, his chin resting against her shoulder.

His arms fit around her as though he had always belonged there, her form fitting perfectly against his own.

As she looked at the painting before her, Ishika's lips parted slightly in awe, her eyes sparkling with admiration.

"Arjun..." Her voice was little more than a whisper, but it held all the wonder and warmth she felt in her heart.

He had captured her soul on that canvas, revealing facets of herself she had never seen before.

Her eyes met his in the reflection of the studio mirror, the shadows casting his face in soft, smoldering light, accentuating the determination and intensity in his gaze.

She felt her heart beat faster as he brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear, his fingertips grazing her skin with a softness that made her shiver.

Slowly, Arjun dipped his fingers back into the paint, coating them in the cool, slick colors.

He looked at her with a subtle, teasing smile before gently dragging his fingertips across her bare shoulder, leaving a faint, painterly trail of blue across her skin.

The sensation was both surprising and soothing, an invitation to experience the canvas of his emotions firsthand.

Ishika's skin tingled under his touch, each stroke a whisper of unspoken words and silent promises.

She felt cherished, adored, in ways words could never convey. The coolness of the paint, the warmth of his fingers-it was an intimacy beyond anything she'd ever felt.

Arjun's voice was low, almost a growl, as he traced a line down her shoulder.

"You're not just my muse, MY BUTTERFLY. You're every color, every stroke, every dream I've ever had."

He pulled her closer, guiding her so her body pressed back against his chest, their breaths falling into a slow, hypnotic rhythm.

She closed her eyes, allowing herself to surrender to the sensations-the cool touch of paint mingling with the warmth of his skin, the way his arms enveloped her, holding her steady as his hands explored her collarbone, her shoulder, her arms, leaving faint, colorful traces wherever he touched.

Arjun's fingers moved deliberately, with an artist's precision, painting a masterpiece on her skin with strokes of color that seemed to pulse with life.

He moved down to her bare arm, tracing her skin in gentle, winding patterns, each stroke laden with the emotions he held for her, his silent declaration of love and longing.

"Ishii..."
he whispered, his voice heavy with need,

"let me make you mine, here and forever." His words made her shiver.

her skin ablaze with an awareness that had nothing to do with the paint and everything to do with his touch, his gaze, the way he looked at her as though she were his entire world.