𝑨𝑵𝑰𝑫𝑰𝑻𝑨: 𝐓𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐞 - Yours With All My Heart

{69}•ʜᴇʀ ᴘᴇʀɪᴏᴅs•

ANIRUDH

A deep sigh left my lips as I stirred in my sleep, feeling the warmth of Bondita’s body pressed against mine. My arm was draped over her waist, holding her close, her back snug against my chest. She smelled fucking divine—soft, sweet, and completely intoxicating.

Still half-asleep, my hand lazily trailed down her stomach, tracing the soft curve of her waist before moving lower. My fingers brushed against the inside of her thigh, and—fuck.

Wet.

My brows furrowed as my fingers stilled against the dampness. The hell? My grip tightened slightly as I moved my hand, feeling the undeniable slickness seeping through. My body stiffened instantly, my mind snapping out of its drowsy haze.

I wasn’t even fully awake, but something felt off.

Slowly, carefully, I peeled my eyes open, the darkness of the room making it hard to see. My heart thudded as an uneasy feeling crept over me. Without waking Bondita, I reached out and switched on the bedside lamp. The dim golden light flickered on, casting a warm glow over the room.

And then I saw it.

Red.

A deep, dark stain spread across the white fabric of my shirt—the shirt she was wearing. My breath hitched in my throat as my gaze trailed lower.

Fuck.

I jerked my hand back, staring at my fingers now smeared with her blood. My chest constricted as my mind went blank for a split second. The fuck was happening? How—?

I swallowed hard, trying to calm the sudden panic rising inside me. My eyes snapped back to her face—peaceful, unaware, completely fucking oblivious to the fact that she was bleeding.

I felt my stomach drop. Did I hurt her?.

Fuck. Fuck.

I stared at my bloodstained fingers, my heart pounding like a war drum in my chest. My gaze darted back to Bondita, sleeping so peacefully, her body completely relaxed against me—unaware of the fucking mess I had made of her.

I squeezed my eyes shut, cursing myself. I wasn’t careful, not even close. Last night, I had fucked her like an animal—hungry, desperate, relentless. My control had shattered, and I had taken her again and again until she was nothing but a trembling mess beneath me. I should’ve stopped, should’ve noticed if she was in pain, but the way she clung to me, moaned my name, begged for more—I had lost myself in her.

And now this. This fucking blood.

I swallowed hard and slowly turned my head toward the bedside clock. 2:00 AM.

A deep sigh escaped me as I hesitated before shifting slightly, trying not to wake her. My hands, still shaky, reached for her thighs. Gently, carefully, I parted them, my breath hitching as I looked down.

Fuck.

She was bare beneath my shirt—red, raw, and completely fucking wrecked.

Guilt slammed into me like a fucking freight train. My throat tightened as I stared at her, feeling my stomach twist with self-loathing. How the fuck did I not realize? How could I have—

Then it hit me. Middle of the month.

My breath caught as I froze, my brain putting the pieces together.

Oh, fuck.

Her periods.

Not because of me. Not because I hurt her.

A shaky exhale left me as tension drained from my shoulders, only to be replaced with another kind of worry. She must be in pain. I should’ve known—her body was exhausted, and now, on top of everything, she had to deal with this too?