His Uncommitted Sin

The Devil's Devotion

18+

Adult Content Ahead.

Kanvi's POV:

The cold air kissed my bare skin as Vihaan carried me onto the terrace, his grip firm, unyielding, and possessive. My scream had long died down, replaced by an erratic heartbeat and the kind of anticipation that made my skin prickle. I should have been mad at him for whisking me away like that, but my breath hitched when I opened my eyes.

The night sky stretched endlessly above us, scattered with a thousand stars, a celestial canopy draped over our private world. The moon, half-hidden behind silver clouds, flickered like a teasing voyeur, unwilling to intrude yet unwilling to turn away.

My pulse thudded in my ears as Vihaan slowly placed me down, my feet touching the cold floor. The contrast of warmth and chill sent shivers rippling down my spine. He didn't let go of me, his hands settled on my waist as if he were still debating whether he should give me space or pull me closer until there was nothing left between us.

I inhaled sharply when he leaned in, his breath fanning against my ear, slow and deliberate.

"You drive me mad, Ma Chérie," he murmured, his voice deep, dark, and laced with something sinful. "You left me there, aching, desperate... and all for what? To pee?"

His lips ghosted over my earlobe, and I felt my knees weaken.

I swallowed hard. "Vihaan—"

His fingers dug into my waist, not enough to hurt, but just enough to tell me he was barely holding himself back.

"You walked away from me, knowing exactly what you do to me. And now you stand here, looking at me with those wide, innocent eyes, pretending you don't know what's about to happen." He paused, and his next words were spoken against the curve of my throat, his lips barely grazing my skin. "But you do know, don't you?"

I trembled. My breaths came out in short, uneven pants as his hands trailed down my spine, slow, reverent, as if he were worshiping the very act of touching me.

"I—"

My words died when he spun me around so fast that I gasped. My back pressed against his hard chest, and his arms locked around my waist, holding me prisoner against his body. His fingers brushed the hem of my oversized shirt—his shirt—lifting it just enough to expose my thighs to the night air.

"I could strip you bare under this sky," he whispered, his voice heavy with desire. "I could lay you on this cold floor, your body burning hot against it, and make you forget that anything else exists beyond my touch."

A shiver coursed through me, but it had nothing to do with the cold.

"Or," he continued, his lips tracing the shell of my ear, "I could take my time. Torture you the way you tortured me. Make you beg."

I let out a shaky breath. "You wouldn't."

He chuckled darkly. "Wouldn't I?"

One of his hands slid lower, fingers grazing the inside of my thigh, feather-light yet scorching. "Tell me, Kanvi," he murmured, "when you walked away from me earlier, were you thinking about how much you wanted this?"

My throat went dry.

His other hand brushed up my arm, tracing a line to my collarbone, then up to my jaw. His fingers tilted my chin up, forcing me to meet his eyes. They glowed with something untamed, something that made my knees feel like liquid.

"Were you aching for me even then?" he pressed, watching me like he already knew the answer.

I exhaled shakily. "Yes."