Her Deviant Husband | [✓]

Chapter 20 (M)

Reyansh's pov.

I hated it.

I hated the fact that she actually thought she could leave me once she had walked into the golden cage I had hand woven for my little bird. I had just found a way for her to be mine. And she had to speak bullshit about the marriage being a contract and her divorcing me to find 'Real Love'.

There is nothing in the damn world called real love.

Human's are nothing more than salves of their own twisted wishes and desires. There is nothing pure about love.

There is nothing worth sacrificing for in love.

Love is selfish.
Love is painful
And most of all Love is the cruelest curse mankind can know.

And Athira would understand that. I will make her understand that there is no real love out there waiting for her. She is mine now. And will always be mine.

She is the queen of my dark world.
And she will smile only for me from now. She will live only for me. I don't give two shits about her conditions as I knew ways to outsmart all the conditions she had put forward anyways.

I rolled my tongue to my inner cheek trying to calm down.

The dim light in the room accentuated every curve of her naked body. I leaned back in the armchair, the glass of scotch resting in my gloved hand, watching her with a calm I didn't entirely feel.

I leaned back in the armchair, the cool leather creaking under my weight. The glass of scotch in my hand barely moved as I swirled the liquid, but my focus wasn't on the drink. My eyes were on her. On every inch of her.

Athira was sprawled on the couch, her legs pressed tightly together, her back ramrod straight like she was daring herself not to break. Her lips curled into a smirk that screamed defiance, but her cheeks were flushed, betraying the heat burning just beneath her skin.

"Spread your legs, Athira," I commanded, my voice low and rough, daring her to challenge me.

Her eyes narrowed, the sharp curve of her smile cutting deeper.

"You really think I'm going to just do whatever the fuck you say?" she spat, her voice biting, laced with venom.

I tilted my head, unbothered.

"I think you want to," I replied calmly, my voice steady as hell. "And that's what's pissing you off the most."

Her jaw tightened, her fingers digging into the couch as she glared at me like she wanted to rip my head off. "Fuck you," she hissed, her tone dripping with disdain.

"You'd like that," I shot back smoothly, smirking as I leaned forward slightly.
"Now, stop wasting my time and show me. Spread those legs, Athira."

Her nostrils flared as she sucked in a sharp breath, her rage glowing brighter, almost blinding. For a second, I thought she'd refuse. But then, ever so fucking slowly, she moved.

Her knees parted like it cost her everything to do it. Every inch of space she gave me felt deliberate, mocking, as if she was saying, Fine, but fuck you anyway.

"There," she snapped, her voice icy.

"Happy now? Or do you need me to write 'fuck off' with my pussy while you watch?"

The smirk that tugged at my lips was slow, deliberate. "It's a start," I replied, leaning back, letting my gaze drift lower.

"Now, show me how you make yourself wet. Pleasure yourself."