Chapter 43
Surrender to the Devil
Anvi’s breath came in shaky gasps, her body still trapped beneath him.
The heat of his touch, the possessiveness in his hold— it was too much.
Too intense.
She tried to fight it, to push him away, but every movement only brought her closer to him.
Agastya’s fingers brushed against her waist, his touch slow, deliberate.
"Still fighting me, Pari?"
His voice was a whisper against her skin, a mix of amusement and warning.
She gritted her teeth.
"You can force me to stay, but you can’t make me love you."
His body stilled.
The air shifted.
And then—
His grip tightened.
"Love?" He let out a dark chuckle, but there was no humor in his eyes.
"Jaan, you already do. You just don’t want to admit it."
Her heart skipped a beat.
She hated that he could see through her so easily.
That he knew the very feelings she was terrified to name.
---
?? The Devil Always Wins
Agastya shifted, pulling her up against his chest, forcing her to look at him.
His fingers curled around her chin, tilting her face up until their eyes met.
"You can deny it all you want, Pari. But tell me one thing…"
He leaned in, his breath warm against her lips.
"If you hate me so much, why does your body react like this whenever I touch you?"
Her stomach twisted, her cheeks burning.
She wanted to slap him.
Wanted to **
Anvi’s breathing was ragged, her heart racing out of control.
Agastya’s words hung between them, suffocating her.
"If you hate me so much, why does your body react like this whenever I touch you?"
His voice was a whisper against her lips, a dangerous mix of mockery and truth.
She wanted to deny it.
Wanted to push him away.
But she couldn’t.
Because his touch was fire. His presence was overwhelming.
And the worst part?
Her body was betraying her.
The way her breath hitched, the way her skin tingled under his touch—it all exposed what she refused to admit.
Agastya smirked, his midnight eyes dark with possession.
"You’re mine, Pari. Your body knows it. Your heart knows it." His grip on her chin tightened slightly. "Only your stubborn mind refuses to accept it."
"You’re a monster," she whispered, her voice trembling.
"And yet, you still melt under my touch," he murmured, brushing his lips just inches from hers, teasing, tormenting.
His fingers trailed down, skimming the delicate curve of her waist before gripping her hips, pulling her flush against him.
Anvi sucked in a sharp breath.
"You don’t own me, Agastya," she spat, though her voice lacked conviction.
His smirk deepened.
"That’s where you’re wrong, jaan." His forehead pressed against hers, his warm breath ghosting over her lips. "I own every single part of you."
Her body shuddered.
"Deny it all you want, but one day, you’ll come to me willingly. You’ll crave my touch, my control—my love."
Anvi’s eyes burned with unshed frustration, with the confusion of her own emotions.
She wanted to fight him.
She wanted to surrender.
But most of all—
She wanted to hate him.
And yet, as his lips brushed against the corner of her mouth, barely touching—
She knew she was already losing this battle.
The storm outside raged like the one brewing inside her heart.
Anvi stood by the grand window, her fingers gripping the cold sill as she tried to steady her breath. The night was dark, the wind howling through the vast estate, yet the true storm was behind her—Agastya Singh Rathore.
His presence was overpowering, commanding the very air she breathed.
"Turn around, Pari," he said, his voice low, dangerous, and laced with something deeper.
She didn’t.
Not yet.
"What are you afraid of?" he murmured, taking slow, measured steps toward her.
Her fingers clenched.
"Of you, Agastya. Of what you do to me."
A dark chuckle.
"And yet, here you are. In my home. In my life."
His warmth was behind her now, so close she could feel his heat against her back.
"Say it, Pari," he whispered against her ear. "You don’t hate me."
Her heart slammed against her ribs.
"I do," she lied.
His arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her back against his chest. She gasped, her hands instinctively clutching his wrist.
"Then why are you trembling?" he taunted, lips barely grazing her ear.
She hated how her body reacted to him.
Hated the way she melted in his hold.
"You think you can run from this, from us?" His voice was deep, husky, filled with dangerous possession.
She swallowed.
"There is no us, Agastya," she whispered.
His hold tightened.
"There will always be us, Pari. You are mine. Bound to me. Forever."
She finally turned to face him, her eyes burning with unshed emotions.
"You don’t own me, Agastya."
His gaze darkened.
"Then leave."
The challenge hung between them.
She didn’t move.
Couldn’t.
Because the truth was, she didn’t want to leave.
Not anymore.
Agastya’s fingers tilted her chin up, his touch firm yet reverent.
"You’re already mine, Pari." His voice dropped lower, dangerously soft. "But tonight… I’ll make sure you accept it."
And as his lips finally claimed hers, fierce and unrelenting, she knew—
There was no escape.
She was his.
And he… was hers.
Forever.