Annika- The Scorned Wife

19. Buckle up

Buckle up for the drama guys🍿

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Sexual content‼️

Annika

I push open the door, stepping inside as quietly as I can. The house is still, but my heart is anything but. My morning walk was supposed to clear my head, help me think rationally, but all I managed to do was circle back to the same chaos that's been wrecking me since last night. 

I still feel him. I am still so sore. He was holding back in the beginning but once he knew I could take it, he fucked me hard. So hard.

The way his hands moved over me, how easily he controlled my body, how blindly I obeyed. 

A shiver runs down my spine at the memory, a mix of shame and something far more dangerous curling low in my stomach. 

Priya would hate me if she knew. 

The thought makes me squeeze my eyes shut. Priya, who trusted me, who told me everything. Her voice echoes in my head, telling me about Ranveer, about what he did. And yet, I let him— 

Maybe she was wrong?

I shake my head violently. No. I can't think about this. Not right now.

It's Saturday, which means no university, no classes, no distractions. Just me, trapped inside my own mind, drowning in thoughts I don't want to have. 

I exhale sharply and change direction, heading straight for the guest room. 

If I can just sleep, maybe I can shut it all out.

...

A soft moan escapes my lips as warmth engulfs me, a gentle yet possessive touch sweeping over my skin. I feel hands—firm, demanding—tracing my curves, skimming my waist before moving up to cup my breasts. A sigh leaves me as my body arches instinctively into the touch. 

I'm floating somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, lost in the delicious haze of sensation. Fingers graze my sensitive peaks, rolling and tugging just right, sending sparks shooting through my veins. 

I sigh again, surrendering to the feeling, letting my body respond, letting him take. 

Clothes shift against my skin—no, they're being removed. The sheets rustle as warmth replaces the cool air, and a deep hum of approval rumbles through the space. 

My lashes flutter, my mind still foggy with sleep, but something feels... off. Too intense. Too controlled. 

My eyes finally open, still heavy with drowsiness, and— 

Ranveer. 

Towering over me. 

His hands still on my body. 

His expression unreadable, dark, dangerous. 

My heart slams against my ribs, the sleep clearing instantly as the weight of the moment settles over me.

Ranveer doesn't say a word. His grip is firm as he tugs my shorts down my legs, his touch rough but deliberate. A startled gasp leaves my lips as I instinctively slap his hands, trying to stop him.

"What are you doing?" I demand, my voice breathless, still caught between sleep and reality.

He shushes me, a single finger pressing against my lips as his darkened gaze meets mine. My heart stutters in my chest at the intensity burning in his eyes. Before I can protest again, he scoops me up effortlessly into his arms, holding me against his bare chest.