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“Your wish is my command, Gadde,” he smiled, his lips quirking with humour he didn’t feel.
And then he kissed her. Smooth, practiced, and with every ounce of the vast experience he’d both garnered and was rumoured to have garnered. He poured everything into it, everything but his true feelings. This time it was all things elegant.
When he finally pulled back, Raashi was panting but a small, frown line had appeared between her brows. Harsh smoothened it out with one finger before trailing the finger down her cheek and to the sagging neckline of her loose t-shirt.
He dipped his head and traced the path his finger had taken, her low moan encouraging him along the way. One hand moved to the back to unsnap her bra, the lush, plump curves of her breasts bursting free of confinement. If he’d been a religious man, this would have been when he would have dropped to his knees and worshipped. At her altar and nobody else’s.
He took one taut nipple into his mouth, his tongue lavishing it with attention, tugging, lapping, nipping until a keening wail broke from Raashi’s lips. Her hands clenched in Harsh’s hair, the stinging pain in his scalp one he relished. Reminders. Important ones that he needed.
With one hand, he pulled at her tracks, dropping both them and her underwear to the ground, leaving her lower half bare and open to his gaze. Raashi watched him, her gaze hooded, her lips parted, her chest heaving.
He dropped to his knees in front of her, his eyes holding hers, waiting for her consent. As she had on the terrace, she nodded, a small, clipped movement. And then he put his mouth to her and a sharp cry escaped her. He slapped one hand on her mouth to silence her even as the other curved on her hip, holding her in place for him.
He worshipped her with his mouth, his lips, his tongue, his body trying to tell her what his mind forbade him to. Raashi’s hands stayed fast in his hair, urging him closer, harder, faster, incoherent cries seeping through the fingers covering her lips.
She came apart on a low moan that had a frantic need swarming through him. He buried his face in her thigh, breathing in her scent and kissing her slowly, softly, to bring her back from the cliff she’d flown over. And through it all, he bit back on the desire digging its sharp claws into him.
He fought a vicious battle for dominance over the feelings erupting inside him and he won. He always won. Harsh was nothing without the control that had him donning his mask at will.
He rose to his feet in a slow, languid movement, pulling her pants up as he did so. Holding her gaze, he wiped his arm over his mouth, removing the slick wetness of her very essence from it.
Whatever she saw in his eyes, had her straightening her clothes and flattening her hair into place. The fever of the moments before were replaced by a coolness that felt like he was being dipped in an ice bath.
“I can-“ she said, reaching for him through his pants but he stepped away.
“That’s not necessary darling,” he smiled lazily, mentally forcing his dick to behave itself and stop waving like a flag at full mast.
“But you didn’t-“ Confused, she came to a stuttering halt.
“Don’t worry.” He tucked a stray, rebellious lock of hair behind her ear. He leaned in close and whispered in her ear, the scent of sex and satisfaction swirling around them. “We don’t need to get even today. I’ll collect one day. Just not today.”
She stiffened. “This isn’t a business agreement that we need to keep tabs and have a running account.”
He cocked his head as he straightened. “Isn’t it? Hasn’t everything between us been only business?”
The hurt he’d felt earlier reflected in her shocked expression now. A second of pain and vulnerability etched into the delicate lines of her face before she smoothed it over and faced him.
“Of course. Yes, of course. You’re absolutely right.” She smiled, a tight, controlled smile. “I owe you an orgasm, Harsh. Let me know when you wish to collect. I’d be happy to get on my knees and return the favour.”
The visual she drew slammed through his brain making his breath catch in his chest. But before he could exhale and respond, she walked out of the room, the door closing behind her with a quiet, definitive click.
He stared around him at the silent, dimly lit room. Alone. He was alone again, like always. For a few, fleeting seconds, he’d thought that was going to change. That he’d found someone. Someone who might possibly want him.
But no…she, like everyone else, had wanted a man who didn’t truly exist. Weariness settled around him like a cloak. He stumbled towards the bathroom, turning the shower on and stepping under it, fully clothed. He needed to get the scent, the feel of her, off him.
But no matter how long he stood there, water streaming down his face and body, he could still smell her, taste her, feel the imprint of her in his skin.
It didn’t matter that she didn’t want him. He wanted her. And that was where his eternity of hell lay.
Twenty-Nine
RAASHI
“You look beautiful.” Veda wrapped her arms around Raashi from behind, resting her chin on Raashi’s shoulder.
“I look like an overripe mango.” Raashi peered at her reflection in the store’s mirror. The orange saree was thick, heavy and made her feel like she was wrapped in a carpet.
“You look like a perfectly ripe mango.” Veda laughed, stepping back as their mother approached, a salesperson walking behind her tottering along with a humongous pile of clothes in her arms. Raashi’s family had had this exclusive boutique shut down so they could shop for the wedding in peace.
