Solace

|61|euphoria

Happy Reading!!

I haven't proof read if there is any mistakes tell me through inline comments.

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Swiftly she fell over the bed, a soft "ouch" escaping her lips, but it only made him smile. She looked ethereal—like a nymph sent from the heavens, sprawled across their bed, bathed in warm yellow light. Her saree had unraveled from the front, cascading onto the floor in silky folds. The soft fabric clung to her in places and slipped away in others, revealing more than it concealed.

His eyes drank her in—the black blouse hugging her curves, sleeveless and low, doing little to hide the swell of her chest, her slender waist, the golden undertones of her skin glowing under the lights.

She was intoxicating.

And she was his.

He leaned closer, desire thickening in his throat, his hands itching to feel her skin—her warmth, her softness. But just as his breath fanned over her cheek, she placed her palm firmly against his bare chest, stopping him.

His eyes flickered to hers, puzzled. But her gaze wasn't fearful—it was shy, delicate, like a flame flickering behind a curtain of smoke.

"Light… switch off the lights," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

For a moment he blinked, as if realising only now how bright the room was. Then a soft, affectionate smile curved his lips. He leaned down, pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, and whispered, "As you wish."

Effortlessly, he rose and padded to the switch. The moment his fingers flipped it, darkness pooled into the room, soft moonlight slipping through the curtains. A quiet stillness fell between them, broken only by their breaths and the thunderous beat of their hearts.

She looked at him as he neared—his chest bare, the sharp lines of his body catching what little light flickered from the ceiling. He looked like something out of a dream—majestic, powerful, yet so utterly hers. The soft shadows accentuated every dip and ridge of his form, and her breath caught in her throat.

His eyes met hers, and something unspoken passed between them—a silent pull, magnetic and intense. She looked away shyly, her lashes casting shadows on her cheeks, her heart fluttering like the wings of a caged bird.

A knowing smile played at the corners of his mouth as he placed one knee on the bed, climbing toward her, slow and deliberate. Her eyes lifted again, and this time she looked at him like a bride—new, nervous, yet unable to look away.

He leaned in, his lips inches from hers, his breath warm against her skin—but just before he could kiss her, she turned her face away, the ghost of a smile betraying her playfulness.

"You're bad," she whispered, placing her hand firmly on his chest.

His eyes twinkled, and instead of answering, he gently took hold of her hand—his fingers wrapping around hers like a vow. He lifted her hand to his lips, his gaze locked with hers, and began planting soft, lingering kisses on the tips of her fingers. One by one, he kissed each pad like it was made of silk, his lips feather—light, reverent, as though memorising the feel of her.

Her chest rose and fell as heat bloomed beneath her skin, spreading like slow fire. The anticipation, the tenderness—it all made her body ache with the sweetest tension.

He kissed her wrist softly, where her bangle clinked faintly under his breath. Then, just below it, he placed another kiss—delicate, deliberate. His lips trailed down her arm in a slow, worshipful rhythm, as if tasting every inch of her. Nidhi clutched the bedsheet tightly, the fabric twisting in her fists as a shiver coursed through her spine.