Her Deviant Husband | [✓]

Chapter 25

Thank you for 10k reads on this book. I hope you all like the upcoming chapters as well. I'll try to update one chapter every week at least since I have my end sems going on currently. Also I will be giving spoiler for the next chapters from now.

Love ya.

(Warning: Dirty Talk that may not be acc to everyone's taste)

Reyansh's pov.

The muffled sound of her cousins calling her name was a distant hum, irrelevant and insignificant.

In fact I didn't know why she felt like the only human who was important enough to care about now a days.

It should've snapped us out of this—whatever the hell this was—but it didn't.
It wasn't enough. Nothing could pull me away from her, not when she looked like this.

Athira stood before me, her chest rose and fell with each shaky breath, and her lips—god, her lips—were swollen and red from my kisses.

They looked like trouble, the kind you dive headfirst into, consequences be damned.

The Anarkali she wore, once neat and elegant, was a mess now. The thin fabric was sliding off one shoulder, leaving her smooth, dusky skin exposed. My eyes lingered there, tracing the curve of her shoulder down to her collarbone, my fingers twitching to touch her again.

Her hair was wild, a total contrast to the way she always had it neat and styled. Loose strands framed her face, softening the sharpness of her features.

It was the kind of hair you wanted to bury your hands in, to feel the weight of it against your fingers. To just brush the tips of your fingers and touch or kiss the ends when she was unaware.

I wanted to inhale her in. Embed her scent into my existence.
She smelled like jasmine and something warm, like amber—something I knew I'd never forget.

That scent was hers, and hers alone.

Then there were her eyes—deep, coffee-brown, and wide with a mix of anger and panic. But beneath that, there was something else. Those eyes could knock the air out of me with one look, and they didn't even need to try.

Her lashes were long, naturally dramatic and doed, curling in a way that made her gaze feel impossible to look away from.

She had this tiny mole behind her ear, something you'd only notice if you were close enough to breathe her in. It was tucked away like a secret, hidden by her hair. I shouldn't have known it was there, but I did. And I couldn't stop staring at it now.

Her makeup was minimal always. A sharp flick of eyeliner that made her eyes even more striking and sometimes a bold lip to match the attitude she wore like armor. She didn't need anything else.

She was already magnetic, pulling everyone in without even trying.

Her dress clung to her body in a way that was almost criminal, soft fabric hugging her waist before flowing out. It was designed to tease, to hint, to make you imagine everything it hid underneath.

Everything about her was in my head—her scent, her skin, her voice. The way her lips parted when she was caught off guard.

Athira Roy.
Beautiful, infuriating, completely unforgettable.

She wasn't just under my skin.
She was everywhere.

Her trembling hands fumbled with the loose dori at her back, her frustration making her movements frantic and clumsy.