Chapter - 81
When I entered our suite, I couldn't speak at first. My eyes just moved around—the fairy lights, the scent of candles, the flowers filling the air. For a second, I didn't even breathe.
All of this... was for me. Done by my angel. My Siya.
My throat tightened, and before I even realized, a word slipped out of me—low, broken.
"A... angel."
Then I heard the soft sound of her payal.
I turned—and got another surprise.
My coat draped over her black dress. For a moment, I forgot to blink.
My lungs forgot their purpose the moment I saw her.
She stood there, looking down, my little overthinker, nervous, shy.
.. as if she wasn't already the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.
I didn't wait. I pulled her into my arms. That hug wasn't just a hug... it was me letting go, it was me finally relying on someone after years of pretending I didn't need anyone. I told her what I had never told anyone. She listened, she soothed, she promised me things no one else ever did.
We teased each other a little, we had dinner, and she even opened up about her fears and guilt. And me? Even after all that, words still weren't enough. If I tried to explain what I was feeling, I swear every language in this world would run out of words before I finished.
But then... I saw something in her eyes. A want. My baby wanted something more. Yet I wanted her to say it first, to take that first step toward me. So I shifted the topic. I said we should sleep, waiting for her to stop me. But she didn't. So I left for the bathroom to change.
Inside, I smirked to myself. I knew that look in her eyes. The way she bit her lips. She was shy, but she wanted me. And for the first time, I didn't kiss her—not even on the forehead. Because I wanted her to come to me.
When I walked out, I froze.
My Siya stood near the mirror, wearing a black satin dress. Backless. My coat was gone. She looked like sin and innocence at the same time. And I... I forgot how to breathe.
The heat that rushed through me—I almost wanted to go back and take a cold shower. But instead, the words left my mouth, low and rough, almost a growl.
"Rani sa... do you want me to die?"
She turned to the mirror, her innocent eyes meeting mine. As if she didn't know what she was doing to me. As if she hadn't just set me on fire.
I clenched my fists, trying to control myself. I can't touch her unless she wants me to. I can't force her. But how the hell do I control myself when she looks like this?
My Siya wasn't as innocent as I thought. No—she was dangerous. Because she could make me lose every ounce of control I prided myself on.
I couldn't hold his eyes for long. I quickly turned slightly, trying to hide my back. But then I heard his footsteps—slow, steady, like he already knew my every move. My breath hitched. My body froze.
Why does it feel like even without touching me, he's setting me on fire?
And then... he was close. So close that I could feel his warm breath near my face. His hands stayed behind his back, his eyes locked on mine.
"Are you trying to hide from me, jaan?" His voice was low, rough, almost dangerous.
"I... no... w-why would I?" My words stumbled out, betraying me.
The next moment, I found myself trapped—his body caging me between the mirror table and him. My eyes went wide.
"Don't do such things, baby," he said, his tone sharp but aching at the same time. "It makes it very difficult for me to be in control."
I looked at him, but his gaze was so intense that I immediately lowered mine. My lips trembled, my heart thudded, and I couldn't breathe properly.
But then, with his fingers, he lifted my chin, forcing my eyes to meet his.
"Do you want to say something?" he asked, his voice softer now.
I quickly shook my head. How could I say anything when just his eyes stole every word from me?
"Okay," he said at last, letting go. "Go change then."
I blinked at him, stunned. Go change? That's it?
Didn't he always say he could read me without words? Didn't he always know what my heart wanted? Then why... why wasn't he reading me now?"
My chest tightened. My steps felt heavy as I turned away. I took two, three steps toward the wardrobe, each one making my throat ache more. But then... I stopped.
I couldn't. Not this time.
Before I could lose the courage, I turned back and walked to him. My hands trembled as I wrapped them around his waist from behind, pressing my face into his back.
My voice barely came out, broken, nervous.
"C... can we... take the next step in our relation?"
The words left me in a whisper, but they carried my whole heart.
He turned slowly, wrapping his arms around me, holding me close. I didn't dare look at him. How could I? I had just said something so bold. His hand slid onto my bare back, and the warmth of his touch made my body burn.
He looked down at me, his eyes intense, and asked again, "Are you sure, baby?"
I nodded, unable to find the words.
"No," he said, shaking his head slightly. "I need words."
I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. "Y... yes... I'm sure," I whispered, finally meeting his gaze from the corner of my eyes.
Before I could even think more, he lifted me in his arms. My hands instinctively went around his neck, hiding my face in his chest as he carried me to the bed. My heart was beating so fast, I thought it might burst.
He laid me down gently and came over me, cupping my face. "You don't know how badly I wanted to take this step with you, Jaan... but not here," he said, his voice low and rough.
I blinked, confused for a moment, and he continued, seeing my expression.
"Stop your overthinking right there and listen.
I want to make love to you, Rani sa, but in our room—where we will spend our whole life together.
I don't want our first time to be at a random hotel.
Our room... it will hold the comfort, the safety, and the memories. It can't be anywhere else."
I slowly nodded, trying to absorb his words. He's right... of course he's right. I hadn't thought of it that way. "Okay... then I'll go change," I whispered.
He shook his head gently, smiling softly. "I said we'll make love in our room, but I didn't say I can't cherish my love now."
Before I could even think, before I could understand fully, his lips were on mine.
The kiss was soft, deep, and full of love. I melted into him, my hands clutching his shoulders, my heart overflowing. Every worry, every overthinking thought disappeared. Right now... it was just him, me, and nothing else mattered.
When my breath faltered, he finally broke the kiss, his forehead resting gently against mine. His voice was husky, almost trembling, "No matter how many times I taste you, it never feels enough."
My cheeks burned, but before I could even respond, his lips captured mine again. This time it was deeper, slower, full of devotion. And then—he let me lead. My lips moved with his, shy at first, then bolder. I surprised even myself.
Suddenly, he flipped us, never breaking the kiss, and I found myself on top of him. My hands trembled as I kissed him back with all the emotions I had kept buried in my heart. From his lips, my lips trailed lower—to his jaw, then down to his collarbone.
The moment I pressed a soft kiss there, a low moan escaped him.
My heart skipped a beat. That sound... it was so raw, so beautiful.
I couldn't help but giggle softly, a blush rising on my cheeks.
Mischief sparked inside me, and I kissed the same spot again, just to hear him.
And when the sound came again, my giggles grew.
So this is his weakness... his sweet spot.
My hands roamed over his chest, feeling the warmth beneath the fabric. I wanted—needed—to feel his bare skin. Nervously, I began fumbling with his shirt buttons. For a second, I thought he would stop me, but instead, he helped. Slowly, gently, he guided my hands, until his shirt was gone.
I stared for a moment, breathless. And then, with all the love I had, I kissed his chest—soft, shy kisses everywhere. Each kiss was my way of saying I love you, I'm yours.
But soon, he flipped me back, his strong arms caging me in with care. His lips brushed against mine again before trailing down—to my chin, my collarbone, and lower still. Every touch was slow, reverent, as if he was worshiping me, not just kissing me.
"Now it's my turn," he whispered against my skin, his voice deep, full of promise. "Let me have my sweet time to cherish you, Rani sa."
I trembled under his touch, but not from fear—never from fear. It was the intensity of his love that made me shiver. My dress slipped away under his slow movements, and I didn't even realize when it left me. All that remained was the red panty I had worn.
For a moment, my instinct was to cover myself, but I froze when I met his eyes.
He wasn't looking at my body—he was looking straight into my eyes. His gaze was powerful yet tender, burning yet soft.
"Now," he whispered, brushing his thumb over my cheek, "I will show you how much I love you, baby."
And in that moment, I didn't need to cover myself. Because my cover, my shield, my safety... was him. My Avi.
Every touch that followed was careful, cherishing, as if I was a delicate doll made of glass. His lips painted my skin with love, not hunger. His hands held me, not claiming me, but promising me forever. I had never felt so safe, so loved, so seen.
My eyes grew heavy, my body weak with the flood of emotions. I tried to stay awake, to hold on to him longer, but sleep claimed me slowly, sweetly. The last thing I felt was his gentle touch, the last thing I saw was his smile.
And the last thing I knew... he was making me wear his shirt, covering me with his love once again.
When my eyes slowly opened, the first thing I noticed was not the sunlight... but him.
Avi.
He was sleeping on me, his arm wrapped around me tightly, his face buried against my neck, and his lips just barely brushing my skin. The warmth of his breath, the closeness of him... it sent butterflies all over my body. My heart beat faster just watching him like this.
He had told me last night that we had to wake up early... but now, how could I wake him up? My arms didn't even want to move. Should I call his name? Should I shake him lightly? Or should I just stay like this?
And then... the memories of last night flashed in my mind. The way I had been bold, the way I kissed him, touched him. My face turned red instantly. Was that really me? How could I even...?I didn't know I could ever be that bold.
I was lost in my thoughts when his husky morning voice broke the silence.
"You start your thinking early morning, my little overthinker?"
I jumped a little, my cheeks heating. "I... I wasn't thinking."
He lifted his face from my neck, his sleepy eyes locking with mine, a smirk tugging at his lips.
"Hmm? Then what are you doing?"
My lips parted to answer, but my gaze betrayed me. First to his lips... then to his bare chest... then back to his lips again. My breath caught.
No, Siya... bad manners... that too early morning... without brushing, I scolded myself silently, biting my lip.
But before I could think anymore, before my shyness could take over, he leaned in. His voice was soft but certain.
"Don't think too much... I'm all yours."
And then, he pressed his lips to mine.
He didn't move them right away—just rested them softly against mine, giving me the choice.
My heart stopped. For a few seconds, I froze.
And then, shyly, I moved my lips against his.
The kiss was gentle, sweet, and so full of love it made my eyes sting.
I tried to match his way of kissing, but I couldn't—he was effortless, while I was nervous.
Still, he smiled in between the kiss, as if telling me it was perfect just the way it was.
When I finally broke away, gasping for air, he chuckled and pinched my cheek.
"Why are you so cute, hmm?"
I opened my mouth to say something, but before I could, he swept me up in his arms effortlessly. My hands instantly clutched his shoulders.
"A... Avi, what are you doing?" I whispered, flustered.
He smirked, kissing my temple. "What does it look like, Rani sa? Let's go... we should take a bath."
And just like that, my heart forgot how to beat properly again.
He carried me all the way to the bathroom, and I kept my face buried in his neck, too shy to look at him. My cheeks were burning, and my heart was beating so loudly, I was sure he could hear it.
"Avi... p–put me down. I can walk," I mumbled softly.
But he just held me tighter. "No. If I put you down, you'll run away from me."
"I won't!" I said quickly, lifting my face a little.
His lips curved into a knowing smile. "Hmm... then who was it last night, hiding from me every time I tried to look in her eyes?"
My cheeks heated even more. "That was different..." I whispered.
He finally put me down, but not on the floor—on the bathroom counter. His hands stayed firm on my waist, keeping me close. His eyes roamed my face slowly, and then he said, "You know, you're the most beautiful when you blush like this."
Immediately, I covered my face with both hands. "Don't say such things..." I murmured, my voice barely there.
But he chuckled, his voice low and teasing. "And you're even cuter when you try to hide from me."
Before I could protest, he leaned closer and asked, "So... do you want me to help, or will you manage on your own?"
My mouth fell open. "A–Avi!" I squeaked, my face turning crimson.
He laughed softly, brushing his thumb across my cheek. "Relax, jaan. I was teasing. Go on, take your time. I'll wait outside."
Before leaving, he gave me one last look—the kind that made my stomach twist with butterflies—and then walked out.
I stayed still for a moment, trying to calm my racing heart.
He always made me speechless. Finally, I took a shower and changed into a pastel pink embroidered Anarkali suit, soft and flowy, with a matching dupatta.
I wore my earrings, the mangalsutra, and sindoor.
When I looked in the mirror, a small smile tugged my lips—I looked like his. Only Avi's.
When I stepped into the living area, he was already dressed in traditional wear, arranging our breakfast on the table. The sight of him like that, doing something so simple yet with so much care, made my heart swell.
We sat down and began eating together. But of course, Avi didn't let go of a single chance to tease me.
"Careful, jaan, you'll spill it," he said when my hands trembled slightly while pouring juice.
"I'm not a child, Avi," I pouted, looking down.
He smirked. "No, you're not. You're my shy little wife who turns red at every word I say."
I bit my lip, hiding my face behind the dupatta as I muttered, "I don't turn red..."
"Yes, you do," he leaned closer, his voice warm against my ear. "And you don't even know how much I love it."
The entire breakfast went like this—his teasing, my endless blushing, and the feeling of being cherished in ways I never thought possible.
And even though I pretended to be annoyed... deep down, I wished every morning could start like this.