Sensual Destiny | 18+

𝓡𝓸𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓮 𝓲𝓷 𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓸𝓼 (𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 - 43)

Hello reader's!!!

Enjoy the update and don't forget to vote and comment.

Total words - 1700+

...................................................................................................

Adhiraj's POV

I leaned against the doorframe, watching her.

The way she stood in front of the mirror, adjusting her mangalsutra with delicate fingers, sent a surge of something primal through me. Possession. Admiration. Desire.

Mine.

The deep red of her Anaarkali clung to her like sin, the contrast against her caramel skin making my chest tighten and..umm..

But it wasn’t just the sight of her that made my blood hum. It was the streak of vermilion in her hair—a mark of me, of us.

She didn’t notice me at first, too lost in her own thoughts, but I saw the way she hesitated, the way her fingers lingered on the chain at her neck. As if still trying to grasp the reality of being mine.

I pushed the door open, stepping inside.

"You’re up." My voice came out rougher than I intended.

She lifted her gaze to meet mine in the mirror, her eyes widening just slightly before she masked it with a familiar glare. Too late, babygirl. I saw that.

I moved closer, my fingers trailing over her waist, savoring the way she tensed—her body betraying the fight she always put up with me.

"Red suits you," I murmured, my lips brushing against the shell of her ear. My fingers wandered lower, teasing, testing, drinking in the warmth of her skin. "Though I prefer you in nothing."

She rolled her eyes, but I didn’t miss the way her breath hitched.

"You changed the sheets again," she accused, a poor attempt at shifting focus.

I smirked, resting my chin on her shoulder. "I couldn’t let my wife wake up in a mess, could I?"

That got her. Wife. The word landed exactly where I wanted it to.

Her fingers clenched at her saree before she turned in my hold. "You should’ve let me help, idiot."

Idiot. That was her favorite insult for me, yet the way she said it was softer than she intended.

I tightened my grip, pulling her against me. Her warmth seeped into my skin, her scent still laced with last night.

"You looked too peaceful sleeping," I said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Then, lowering my voice, I let my thumb graze her lower lip. "Besides… I wore you out. It was the least I could do."

Her reaction was instant—her breath stalling, her fingers twitching against my chest. Got you.

But she recovered fast, pressing her hands against me in an attempt to push away. "We should eat," she muttered.

I chuckled. Cute. Did she really think I’d let her go that easily?

Leaning in, I brushed my lips against her cheek, feeling the way she tensed. My voice dropped to a whisper, teasing, promising—

"We will, babygirl. But who said I was done with you yet?"

Her fingers curled against my chest, as if torn between pushing me away and pulling me closer. She was always like this with me—a battle of resistance and surrender.