Her Deviant Husband | [✓]

Chapter 41 (M)

Mature : Praise Kink

Reyansh's pov.

She was mesmerizing—her body trembling, her breath hitching, her skin flushed a deep crimson from the pleasure I'd just given her. The way her thighs clamped around my head, holding me there like she couldn't bear to let go, made my cock throb with need.

When the last shudder wracked her body, I let my tongue linger, coaxing out every final gasp and whimper she could give me.

Her taste was intoxicating, her scent addictive, and I couldn't get enough.

My hand, once firm on her throat, now slid gently along her thigh, caressing her as though I were both soothing her and staking my claim.

Her breathing was ragged when I finally pulled away, my lips and chin wet with her essence. I looked up at her, taking in the sight of her completely undone, her body glistening in the low light.

"Beautiful," I murmured, my voice rough with satisfaction and desire. Pride filled me knowing I was the first, last and only one who will ever see her like this.

She managed a weak glare, but it only made me grin. She was exhausted, trembling, yet still full of fire.

That was my woman.

"Fuck me already, bastard," she bit out, her voice hoarse but commanding. "I want you in me. Not your fingers and tongue."

I chuckled, unable to resist her at all.

"As you wish, Sweetheart."

But I took my time.

I needed to savor this—every moment, every sound she made, every expression that crossed her beautiful face. I had waited so long for her to give herself to me. Now I didn't understand which instinct I wanted to follow more.

The urge to completely ruin her and the urge to completely worship her.

Since it was her first time. I will choose the latter.

I kissed her, deep and slow, letting her taste herself on my lips as my hands roamed her body. Her impatience was clear in the way she tugged at my shoulders, her nails digging into my skin. God, she drove me crazy when she got like this—desperate, demanding, completely at my mercy.

"You're so fucking gorgeous," I whispered against her skin, trailing my lips down her neck, over the curve of her shoulder. My hand slid between her legs again, and I groaned when I felt how slick and ready she was.

"So wet for me. You're perfect."

"Reyansh Sehgal," she groaned, her hips bucking against my hand. "Stop teasing."

"But isn't that exactly what you have been doing since our wedding?" I asked her holding back the smile that almost turned into a laugh.

She didn't say anything but she bit her lower lip as if she wanted to curse me out.

My hands moved to the black lace saree pooled around her waist clinging to her body, soaked from the rain.

She kept looking at me, her chest heaving, her lips parted— look at her looking like a seductress pushing me into the brink of temptation.

I untangled the fabric, peeling it away until she was completely bare beneath me. The chill of her rain-soaked skin had been long replaced by a sheen of sweat. She had this golden wheatish tone to her skin, like a perfect mix of fair but with that warm undertone, something you don't usually see unless the person has a slightly darker complexion.