BOOK 1 OF THE UNEXPECTED SERIES
In a world where tradition clashes with modernity, Vaidehi is a modern-day princess bound by society's rigid expectations.
Saransh, a brooding prince with a shadowed past, one he's not keen to reveal. Despite his nobl...
Hey guys, I'd like to remind you all that they are on a private island, alone, thankyou very much.
Also I love how you all don't follow me on Wattpad, really boosts my spirits for writing the next chapters. _________
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His grip on my waist tightened. His mouth was so close, already brushing against mine in a cruel tease. I knew what he wanted—what he was about to take. But I wasn't going to let him have it so easily.
Just as he leaned in, his lips parting, I pulled back, tilting my head just enough to deny him. A smirk tugged at my lips. I am not going to let him kiss me unless he grows so frustrated that it drives him insane.
A humorless chuckle left him, dark and dangerous. "Okay, sweetheart," Saransh murmured, his voice a warning. "Come on".
Before I could react, his strong hands gripped my thighs, and in one swift movement, he lifted me onto his shoulder. A shocked screech tore from my lips. My hands pushed at his back, my legs kicking, but he carried me like I weighed nothing. The moment sent a rush of heat through me—flashbacks of our first kiss, of the fire that had burned between us that night.
And just as suddenly, he set me down—on the table. The cool surface beneath me sent a shiver up my spine. My plate of white sauce pasta sat to my right, untouched except for one bite.
Saransh stepped between my legs, his dark eyes locking onto mine as he leaned in, bracing his hands on either side of me. "Eat your food."
Ugh. This is so annoying. I narrowed my gaze at him. "And what if I don't?" I arched a brow, challenging him.
His smirk deepened, slow and wicked. "Then I'll eat you."
My breath hitched. His fingers traced up the slit of my dress, a lazy, torturous touch. Heat curled low in my stomach as his knuckles skimmed the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. He leaned closer, his lips a whisper away from my ear.
"You have five minutes," he murmured, his voice laced with promise, his touch setting my skin on fire.
My pulse pounded. The challenge hung between us, crackling like a live wire.
I swallowed, eyes flicking to my plate. Five minutes. Like hell I was making this easy for him.
I picked up my fork and took the slowest bite of pasta imaginable, my gaze never leaving his.
His jaw ticked. His fingers flexed on my thigh.
Game on.
"Are you doing this on purpose?" Saransh's voice was low.
I tilted my head, giving him the most innocent look I could muster. "Am I?"
Then, without breaking eye contact, I dragged my tongue along the prongs of my fork, licking it clean with slow, deliberate ease.
