27 Ansh, Dont You Dare. #3
Niyati's breath caught in her throat as their eyes locked in the quiet, enclosed space, the air between them thick with the weight of everything left unsaid.
The word for you hung heavy in the narrow space between them, thick with a desperation neither could deny any longer.
Niyati's breath caught in her throat. She pressed herself harder against the cold marble vanity, as if the cold stone could keep her grounded against the magnetic pull radiating off him. "Ansh, please... if someone comes-"
"No one is coming," Ansh interrupted, his voice a low, gravelly rasp that vibrated straight through her chest. He closed the remaining distance, stepping so close that the dark fabric of his tuxedo brushed against the starry chiffon of her gown. "You ran away from me, Niyati. Again."
"I didn't run," she lied, her voice trembling. "I told you, I needed air-"
"You ran because you felt it," he said softly, his eyes dropping to her trembling lips before snapping back to her eyes. "The same thing I felt out there. The same thing I've felt every single day since I let you walk away the first time."
Niyati shook her head, tears welling up afresh in her eyes. "It's not that simple, Ansh. You can't just step back into my life and expect-"
"I don't expect anything," he whispered, his hands rising slowly, carefully, as if approaching a skittish animal. "Except for you to stop hiding from me. Stop hiding from us."
His knuckles brushed against the side of her neck, just above the off-shoulder line of her gown. The touch was soft as a feather, yet it sent a jolt of pure electricity surging through her blood.
Niyati let out a shuddering gasp, her eyelids fluttering shut for a fraction of a second as her body betrayed her, leaning imperceptibly into his touch.
"See?" Ansh murmured, his thumb trailing over the warm slope of her jawline. "You still feel it. You can pretend all you want, but you can't lie to me when I'm holding you."
"I'm scared," she confessed, the raw, fragile truth finally tearing out of her chest in a broken whisper.
Her eyes opened, glossy with unshed tears, searching his face with agonizing vulnerability.
"I can't go through that pain again, Ansh. I survived losing you once. I won't survive it a second time."
The anguish in her voice shattered the last remnants of Ansh's careful composure. The restrained, patient man who had played the dutiful brother and polite acquaintance vanished in an instant.
"You won't have to," he swore, his voice laced with a fierce, absolute conviction.
"Because I'm not going anywhere. I'd rather lose everything else in this world than lose you again."
Before she could process his words, Ansh wrapped his hand around the nape of her neck, his fingers tangling into her soft waves, and pulled her into him.
His lips met hers with a sudden, overwhelming intensity that took her breath away.
It wasn't a gentle, hesitant kiss. It was months of agonizing restraint, unspoken apologies, sleepless nights, and burning longing crashing together all at once.
Ansh pressed her back firmly against the vanity, his other arm sweeping around her waist to pull her flush against his chest, closing every last inch of space between them.
Niyati let out a soft whimpering gasp into his mouth, her hands acting on pure instinct. Her fingers clutched at his lapels before sliding up to grip his shoulders, pulling him even closer as she gave in completely.
She kissed him back with the same desperate, lingering fever, tasting the faint trace of rain and sweet coffee on his lips-a taste she had craved in her dreams for what felt like an eternity.
Ansh groaning softly against her mouth, deepening the kiss.
His tongue slid past her lips, claiming her with a possessive, breathtaking rhythm that left her knees weak.
His hand on her waist tightened, pressing her body into the sharp tailoring of his midnight-blue suit, his thumb tracing the curve of her hip through the silk of her gown.
Every fear, every doubt, and every wall Niyati had painstakingly built over the past months dissolved into pure heat.
The world outside the locked door-the ball, the music, the crowd, Diya-ceased to exist.
There was only the sound of their ragged breathing echoing against the tiled walls, the friction of silk and wool, and the electric, consuming fire of his mouth against hers.
He shifted his lips, trailing fiery, desperate kisses down the line of her jawline, pressing his mouth against the sensitive spot just beneath her ear. Niyati arched her neck back with a soft, helpless sigh, her hands sliding into his dark hair, tugging gently as a shiver ran down her entire spine.
"Tell me to stop," Ansh rasped against her skin, his breath hot against her collarbone, his fingers digging gently into her waist. "Tell me you don't want this, Niyati... tell me, and I'll walk away right now."
Niyati's chest heaved, her hands tightening in his hair. She opened her eyes, looking down at his face buried against her neck, his pulse hammering as wildly as her own.
"Ansh, don't you dare stop," she whispered breathlessly, leaning down to capture his lips once more.