𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐬 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 : 𝑨 𝑴𝒂𝒇𝒊𝒂 𝑫𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆

{32}•ꜱʜᴇ ᴛʀᴜꜱᴛ ᴍᴇ•(🌶️)

ANIRUDH

Her words, barely audible over the sound of the water rippling around us, cut through the charged air. "I... I think I should go..."

I didn't let her take a single step. My hands shot to her waist, gripping her firmly, pulling her back against me before she could escape. My voice was low, firm, and left no room for argument. "No, Little Angel. You're not going anywhere. We have to complete the tradition. It's my turn to apply the paste on you."

She froze in my arms, her wide, doe-like eyes darting around nervously. "Uh... hmm... well, I..." Her words were a scattered mess, her voice hesitant, as though she couldn't form a coherent sentence.

Her gaze flickered to my chest for the briefest of moments, lingering there before snapping up to my face. Her cheeks turned a deep shade of red, and she quickly looked away again, unable to hold my gaze. She was a bundle of nerves, and I could feel her tension through the hands I still had wrapped around her waist.

Unable to resist, I reached up, cupping her chin gently between my fingers, forcing her to look at me. Her soft skin felt like silk under my touch. Her wide eyes met mine, and for a moment, it felt like the world stood still.

"Will you let me apply it on you, Little Angel?" I asked softly, my voice low and steady, though my patience was hanging by a thread.

Her lips parted, and she hesitated, clearly unsure of how to respond. She bit her lower lip-a nervous habit, I realized-and I couldn't stop my gaze from dropping to her mouth. She nodded slowly, almost imperceptibly, as if testing her own resolve.

"Words, Little Angel," I prompted, my voice dipping lower, almost a growl.

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed hard-once, twice-before she stammered out, "O-okay? Okay..."

A slow, satisfied smirk tugged at the corners of my mouth. "Good girl," I murmured, leaning in just enough for her to feel the heat radiating off me. My hands didn't leave her waist as I prepared to fulfill the so-called tradition.

My eyes scanned her flushed face, her lips trembling slightly as she tried to compose herself. She was so fucking innocent, and it was driving me insane. I leaned closer, my fingers grazing her waist as I murmured, "Let me remove this... all of it, so I can have access to your skin."

Her eyes widened, her cheeks flaming even redder. She froze in place, staring at me like I'd just said the most outrageous thing imaginable. My hand on her waist slid a little higher, my fingers brushing against the fabric of her sari, and I could feel her shiver beneath my touch. Her breath hitched when I brought my free hand to her chin, tilting her face toward me so I could look directly into her eyes.

"Can I?" I asked softly, my voice rough with restraint. My heart was fucking racing, and I hated how much I wanted her in this moment. No, scratch that. I didn't hate it-I craved it, every second of it. But I needed her permission. Goddammit, I wasn't about to cross a line without her nod.

Fuck. Why was I even asking for permission? I was a goddamn mafia boss. I took what I wanted. But not with her. She was different-too pure, too fucking innocent to treat like just anyone else.

Still, my patience was hanging by a thread, and the thought of her bare skin beneath my hands sent my mind spiraling. Focus, Anirudh, I reminded myself. This wasn't about fucking her-this was about applying some stupid paste.

Yeah, right.

Her lips parted slightly, and I could see her throat bob as she swallowed. Her gaze darted down to my chest again before snapping back up to my face. She nodded hesitantly, her voice barely audible as she whispered, "Okay..."