24 ~ I Hate You Kiss
Chahat's POV.
"What nonsense are you talking about? Stay away from me. I hate you."
The words left my mouth before I could stop them.
He was standing in front of me, his body towering over mine. His eyes were dark, unreadable. The muscle in his jaw twitched.
Then he moved. His knee came up, pressing against the edge of the bed. He leaned over me, his body caging me in, his face inches from mine.
"What did you say?" His voice was low. Dangerous. A whisper that sent shivers down my spine.
I clenched my jaw.
"I said I hate you!"
He stared at me.
His eyes stopped at my lips.
They lingered there just for a moment before traveling down to my shoulders, my neck, the swell of my breasts visible above the neckline of my blouse.
His hand reached for the dupatta resting on my shoulder.
My breath caught.
He began to pull it.
The fabric slid across my skin, smooth and cool. I gasped as he tugged it free, the dupatta slipping from my shoulder.
He threw it away.
"Can you repeat?" he asked, his voice soft but commanding.
I clenched my teeth.
"I said I hate you, Monster Kartik..."
He hovered over me.
His hand came up to my chin, tilting my face up to meet his gaze. His thumb brushed across my lower lip, feather-light.
For a few seconds, neither of us moved.
I had called him names before. I had accused him, shouted at him, pushed him away. I had told him exactly what I thought of him more times than I could remember.
But the way he was looking at me now...It was different.
His jaw tightened and eyes darkened.
And suddenly, I wasn't so sure whether I had said the right thing.
His gaze remained fixed on mine.
I swallowed.
"I have always hated you," I whispered. "And I always will."
For a moment, he simply looked at me.
Then he stepped closer to my lips.
My breath caught. "Kartik..."
His eyes dropped briefly to my lips before returning to my eyes.
My heart began pounding.
I hated that he could affect me like this.
I hated that my body seemed to forget my anger whenever he came this close.
I hated that I could feel the heat radiating from his skin, the warmth of his breath against my lips, the way my entire body was trembling with anticipation.
"I wish I could say the same." He muttered.
And before I could say anything else
He leaned down and captured my lips.
My eyes widened.
For one suspended moment, I couldn't move.
His lips were warm against mine, soft and firm at the same time. The anger I'd been holding onto so tightly seemed to dissolve beneath the sheer shock of what was happening.
His lips moved against mine, slow and deliberate. He wasn't rushing. He wasn't demanding. He was simply... kissing me, tasting me and claiming me.
One of his hands slid from my chin to the back of my neck, tilting my head back. The other found my waist, pulling me closer.
"Kartik..." I gasped against his lips.
He took advantage of the opening.
His tongue swept across my lower lip, and I felt my entire body melt beneath him.
He pulled back just enough to look at me.
His eyes were dark. His lips were slightly swollen. His chest was heaving.
"I still hate you..."
The words came out barely above a whisper but he heard them.
I knew he did.
His eyes remained fixed on mine, something unreadable flickering across his face. He again moved closer.
My breath caught.
"Kartik..."
Before I could finish, his hand cupped my cheek, and he leaned down, capturing my lips again.
This time, the kiss wasn't hesitant.
It was intense, filled with all the frustration neither of us had been able to put into words.
My eyes fluttered shut.
His thumb brushed slowly along my cheek while the other hand settled possessively at my waist, forcing me closer.
I could feel my heartbeat racing beneath my skin.
I was angry with him. I was supposed to hate him.
Yet somehow, standing this close to him made every argument, every accusation, every reason I had built between us feel distant.
I placed my hands against his chest, intending to push him away but I didn't.
My fingers merely curled into his shirt.
When he finally pulled back, we were both breathing unevenly.
His forehead almost touched mine.
I opened my eyes. His gaze met mine.
Neither of us spoke.
I swallowed hard and whispered again, as though reminding myself more than him.
"I still hate you."
A faint, almost disbelieving smile touched his lips.
And somehow, that smile made my heart beat even faster.
He smirked.
That slow, infuriating, devastating smirk that made my stomach flip and my heart race and my entire body burn with something I refused to name.
And then he kissed me again.
This time, there was no hesitation. No gentleness. No restraint.
His lips claimed mine with a hunger that stole my breath. His body pressed against me, pushing me back against the mattress. He hovered over me, his weight settling on top of me, warm and solid and intoxicating.
I gasped against his mouth.
He took advantage.
His tongue swept inside, tasting me, exploring me. One of his hands tangled in my hair, tilting my head back. The other slid down my side, tracing the curve of my waist and my thigh.
I felt his hand grip my thigh, pulling it up to hook around his waist.
My body responded before my mind could catch up.
I wrapped my leg around him, pulling him closer.
"Chahat," He groaned against my lips.
His lips left mine, trailing down my jaw. He pressed hot kisses along my neck, nipping at the sensitive skin just below my ear.
I closed my eyes and moaned.
The sound escaped before I could stop it.
His body was warm and hard against mine.
His chest was pressing against mine and I can feel his hardness evidently.
His lips trailed down, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. My breath caught as his teeth grazed my skin.
My fingers tangled in his hair.
I gripped the dark strands, pulling him closer. A low sound escaped his throat...half growl, half groan and I felt the vibration against my skin.
His lips moved lower. Down my jaw. Along my collarbone. Each kiss was slower than the last, more deliberate, more intoxicating.
I tightened my legs around his waist, pulling him closer.
He groaned against my skin.
"Chahat..."
And then his phone began ringing.
I opened my eyes, breath catching as I realized how close we still were.
Kartik seemed reluctant to pull away. His lips brushed against my neck.
My gaze fell on his phone lying beside us.
The screen was still lit.
Samaira calling.
My stomach dropped.
I pushed him away roughly, picked up the phone and held it out toward him.
"Ye Aapko phone kyun kar rahi hai..." I snapped.
(Why is she calling you?)
His expression changed immediately.
He stared at the screen then at me.
My fingers tightened around the phone.
That silence was enough to make my anger return twice as strongly.
Kartik let out a frustrated sigh and took the phone from my hand.
He stood up and walked toward the balcony, answering the call as soon as he stepped outside.
I remained sitting on the mattress, staring at his back.
Only a few seconds ago, he had been kissing me.
And now he was walking away to answer her call.
My chest tightened. I clenched my jaw.
Of course.
How could I have forgotten?
Samaira.
When he finally came back from the balcony, I couldn't stop myself.
"Kartik."
He turned toward me.
"Samaira kaun hai?" I held his gaze. "Fling hai aapki? Mistress? Hookup? Kaun hai woh?"
(Who's Samaira? Is she your fling? Mistress? Hookup? Who is she?)
His entire expression changed.
Offence flashed across his face.
"Chahat..." His voice dropped into a warning.
"Tell me." My voice trembled despite everything I did to keep it steady.
"Uske saath locked room mein kya kar rahe the?"
(What were you doing with her in that locked room?)
He opened his mouth but nothing came out.
My heart began pounding.
I swallowed. "Did you sleep with her?"
His jaw tightened.
I stared at him, waiting.
Somewhere inside me, despite all my anger, a tiny part of me was desperately hoping for one simple sentence.
No.
Just tell me no.
Tell me I misunderstood.
Tell me she means nothing.
Tell me I'm your wife and there is no one else.
But he said nothing.
His fists tightened at his sides. Then he gave a bitter, humourless smile.
"You're not asking me, Chahat." His eyes locked with mine. "You're accusing me."
I frowned.
"Toh phir kya fayda hai kuch explain karne ka?" His voice was cold now.
(Then what's the point of explaining anything?)
My chest tightened.
"To aur kya sochu?" I shot back. "You're my husband, Kartik. You're meeting women behind my back. A woman who claims she loves you. Doesn't matter how we got married... you should've at least respected the marriage we're in."
(What else am I supposed to think?)
His expression turned almost disbelieving.
For a moment, he simply stared at me.
"If you've already decided I'm guilty, there's no point explaining anything." He stepped closer. "I, Kartik Singhaniya, refuse to give you any justification about my loyalty."
His words struck something inside me.
"And why do you want to know?"
I stared at him.
He continued, his voice becoming colder.
"Tumhe mujhse shaadi nahi karni thi. Tumhe toh main pasand bhi nahi hoon." He paused. "You asked me to stay away. Isn't that what you've made perfectly clear?"
(You didn't want to marry me. You don't even like me.)
I looked away.
He added, "Then why are you getting affected?"
"I'm not." The answer escaped me too quickly.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
I looked back at him. "I'm just confirming what kind of husband I have."
His expression hardened.
"A husband who's not only a narcissist, a pervert..." I forced the words out. "but apparently a man-whore too."
Something flickered across his face.
Pain?
Anger?
I couldn't tell.
Whatever it was, it vanished behind that familiar wall of arrogance.
He said nothing.
He simply turned and walked toward the bathroom.