CHAPTER 48 #2
“To spank you,” he murmured. “So that you remember not to lie to me again.”
She pulled back instantly, eyes widening.
“Karan!”
The sound of her voice did something to him. He laughed under his breath, a low, husky sound that had no humour in it at all. His hand slid from her waist to her lower back, drawing her in despite her protest.
“Relax,” he said. “If I wanted to punish you, Mishti, you would not be standing this far away from our bed.”
“And what if I don’t want to be punished?” she challenged quietly.
His gaze dropped again, tracing the line of her throat, the gentle rise and fall of her chest.
“Then don’t tempt me,” he said.
His hand came up to her face, his thumb brushing just beneath her lower lip, not crossing the line yet.
Her lashes fluttered.
“This doesn’t mean I forgive the lie,” he added. “It means I am choosing you over my anger, over every other thing or feeling in this world. You mean to me that much.”
She leaned into his touch instinctively.
“I will never hide something like this from you again,” she promised.
His thumb stilled as his eyes lifted to hers.
“I know,” he said.
He bent then, capturing her mouth in a slow kiss.
She responded instantly, her hands sliding up his chest, fingers curling at his shoulders as she rose onto her toes. He deepened the kiss slightly, just enough to make her breath hitch, just enough to make her feel how badly he was holding himself back, before pulling away.
Their foreheads touched, breaths mingled.
“Go change,” he murmured against her skin.
Her lips parted in protest. “Karan—”
“You have a call with your team back in London in an hour,” he reminded.
Her cheeks flushed. She had almost forgotten this, and it was important. Nodding in understanding, she stepped back slowly, her gaze never leaving his, before turning toward the bathroom.
***************
Later at night
The house had settled into its late-night stillness. The lights in Wadhwa Mansion were dimmed, and the corridors were quiet.
Karan was in his bedroom, sitting on the single-seater sofa, with his laptop balanced on his lap. He had been staring at the screen for several minutes now, working, when the bathroom door opened softly.
He looked up and suddenly forgot the rest of the world as Mishti stepped out slowly, wearing one of his shirts again.
This time, a black one. It was too long for her; the hem brushed her mid-thigh, the collar slipping slightly off one shoulder.
Her hair was damp, freshly washed, tossed casually to one side.
There was no makeup, no jewellery except her Mangalsutra. And she looked devastating.
Karan’s breath caught before he could stop it.
She did not look at him immediately. Instead, she walked to the dresser ottoman, sat down unhurriedly, and picked up the bottle of lotion. She poured some into her palm and began applying it to her legs, slow and unselfconscious. Her fingers glided over her skin as if she were alone in the room.
Karan closed his laptop without realising it.
His dark gaze stayed on her, intently following every movement. The curve of her calf. The way the fabric of his shirt rode up slightly as she shifted. The faint smile that touched her lips when she finally glanced in his direction and caught him watching.
Their eyes held.
The heat between them was too thick. Yet, Karan did not say a word.
Neither did she.
When she finished, she placed the bottle back on the dresser and stood. Instead of turning toward the bed, she walked straight to him, took the laptop from his hands, and placed it aside on the table without asking. And then… she sat down on his lap.
Straddling him.
Karan swallowed hard, his hands instinctively gripping the edges of the sofa, his entire body going still beneath her. This was not the shy and innocent Mishti. This was his wife. A woman who knew exactly what she wanted and had decided she was done waiting.
Her arms slipped around his neck.
“Did I distract you from working?” she murmured, glancing at the laptop.
His lips curved into a dangerous smile as he replied.
“You are doing a very good job. Go ahead.”
She smiled faintly and leaned in, kissing him.
It was deep and claiming, her mouth fitting against his as if it had always belonged there. His hands finally came up, sliding along her back, holding her to him, careful of his healing arm but no less possessive.
She reached for the hem of his T-shirt, pulling it up, her fingers brushing his skin as she pushed it over his head. Karan let her. He watched her every moment, especially when her hands moved next to the buttons of his shirt she was wearing. She undid one slowly. Then another.
Too slowly.
Now his restraint snapped.
He caught her wrists firmly, pulling her closer before tearing the shirt off her shoulders in one swift movement, then discarded the fabric on the floor.
His mouth followed immediately, along her jaw, her neck, the hollow beneath her ear, kissing her, nibbling and sucking every inch of her sensitive skin.
She gasped. Her fingers tightened in his hair.
“Bed,” he muttered against her skin, already shifting as if to stand. But she stopped him, her palm pressing against his chest.
“Your arm is still healing,” she said.
Something passed through his eyes then as he read what she had in mind. And it surprised him. Soon desire took over as he nodded.
She rose just enough to tug at his night pants, urgency replacing her patience now. He pushed them down along with his boxer briefs at once, pulling her back into his lap, holding her firmly at her waist.
When she moved again, settling herself over him, Karan’s breath left him in a broken exhale. His hands slid up her back, steadying her, surrendering his control without losing himself.
As he looked at her now, his eyes were dark with want, with love, with everything he had never known how to give before. Mishti leaned down to kiss him again. The room seemed to fade around them, leaving only the two people choosing each other, fully and without fear.
She kissed him with everything she had. But when Karan’s fingers slid into her sensitive folds inside her lace panties, her mind shut down.
And when he pushed two fingers inside her, that was all it took.
She rode herself on him, wanting more. With his hands squeezing her breasts, his mouth sucking hers like he was starving, while she rode his fingers down, was the most ruthless, melting combination.
Mishti lost all her control. She was gone.
Her nails dug deeper into his shoulders, then reached for his hair as she tugged him closer, trying to reach for him, for something, to hold on to.
Unable to contain that feeling any longer, her knees pressed inward, but he pushed them further apart, holding her still, and spread out for him.
Karan’s own breathing turned uneven as he pulled her head to see her coming undone.
“You look f*cking gorgeous like this.”
She couldn’t react, only shut her eyes deeper as she felt him pull out his fingers and replace them with his hard length instead.
She felt so sensitive already. A soft moan left her throat as he entered her fully. It hurt. Karan stopped before adjusting her on him again, checking if she was fine.
“If it’s too rough, tell me.”
She nodded before gently taking him further in, and moving on him slowly.
His lips were instantly on her neck, pulling her closer and deeper.
He kissed across her throat, dragging his beard on her skin.
Mishti, completely overwhelmed with all the sensations he was making her feel familiar with, quivered.
Each slow rise and fall of her body, every time she took him deeper, only intensified that feeling inside her.
And she wanted more. She lowered herself all the way to his base, bracing her hands against his chest for balance.
Within a few dips, need and desire drowned out the lingering soreness.
His fingers dug into her waist as she rode him, her head tipping back as a breathless sound escaped her.
A pleasing ache bloomed within her, building until it became too much.
She leaned down and kissed him then. Everything inside her shattered in the next moment as they chased each other over the edge, the world fading away until there was nothing left but the two of them, tangled in their own shared bliss.
A few minutes later, when they finally came back to themselves, still breathless and clinging to each other for comfort, Mishti spoke at last.
“I’m not going to London.”
He assumed it was something she said in the haze of their lovemaking. But when she neither laughed nor took it back, he gently pulled her back just enough to see her face. That soft smile of hers told him she meant every word.
“I decided this the day you were shot,” she added. “I just didn’t tell you, though. All the calls I’ve been taking with the Sahara Foundation team lately were about my handover.”
Karan stared at her, stunned. “Does VK know?”
She bit her lip and nodded.
“How could he not tell me?”
Her eyes flickered in fun. “The same way he didn’t tell me you knew where I was when I was in London. This time, he was on my side. Returning the favour.”
Karan rolled his eyes, then sobered. He brushed a few loose strands of hair away from her face, tucking them behind her ear. “But Mishti… I don’t want you to make this decision just for me. I told you, we could shift together. I’m ready.”
“But I’m not,” she replied calmly. “KW Capital needs you here. Your family needs you here. And now that Avni has moved to Mumbai with Rajat, I want you both to have the sibling time you lost for sixteen years. I don’t want to be selfish.
” She paused, then added, “And you’re forgetting something.
I’m still a non-executive director on your company’s board. I have responsibilities here, too.”
Karan pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead. “Are you sure?”
“More than ever.”
He nodded, firm now. “Alright then. My wife resumes her role at our office.”
She smiled, then suddenly remembered something. “What about the cameras in my cabin? Will they still be there?”
Karan grinned, his thumb stroking her cheek. “Not anymore.”
Instead of looking relieved, she frowned. “So you’re not going to watch over me?”
He pulled her closer, his voice dropping to that husky level again.
“No. Because that’s incredibly distracting.
Watching you nibble on your pen, getting lost in thought, smiling at files, your ponytail swaying when you move, you stretching in your chair to ease your muscles…
It’s pure torture.” His lips curved. “I don’t need a permanent hard-on at work, baby. So, the cameras have to go.”
She pouted, suddenly realising what he must have endured all those earlier days.
“And besides,” he added, “whenever I want to see you, I’ll just walk into your cabin. And neither of us will leave until we’ve given each other a few org*sms.”
Her jaw dropped, imagination running wild.
Before she could respond, he rose, lifting her effortlessly, her legs wrapping around his waist as he carried her toward the bed.
“Karan… your arm,” she whispered, worried.
“Shh,” he murmured. “It already feels better, now that I know you’re not going anywhere.”
He lowered her onto the bed, hovering over her instantly. The lights went off, his mouth finding her neck as he whispered, “Time for round two.”
She didn’t need to give permission.
She was already ready.