Chapter 25
Meera
I place the glass of water under the sink, muttering to myself, “How can someone not even know how to toast bread?” The thought makes me stifle a laugh. Dev is, without doubt, the worst cook I have ever known.
Yesterday, after I’d won our little bet, thanks to the doctor reassuring us that everything was perfectly fine, I reminded Dev that he had to keep his end of the wager.
He didn’t argue. Instead, he disappeared into the kitchen with all the confidence that he was going to blow my mind with his culinary skills, only to return with a plate of burnt toast, an overcooked egg, and a cup of coffee so dark it looked like charcoal.
I literally felt sweat form on my forehead at the very sight of the so-called breakfast, knowing I couldn’t take a single bite.
Dev caught my expression, and the next second, we both burst out laughing and called for the cook to save us.
With each passing day, things with Dev feel more right, as if I’ve finally stopped doubting and started understanding that this is what perfect is supposed to feel like.
It’s exactly what I assured him yesterday, and I meant every word. When he voiced his vulnerability, confessing that he feared I was here only because he’d forced this marriage… it struck something deep inside me. And though it had been true in the beginning, now… it isn’t. Not anymore.
For once, I can say it without a trace of guilt. I am not forced into this bond. I am here because I chose him, willingly, because somewhere along the way, I’ve started adoring him… all of him. Even his annoying, over-possessive side.
Smiling, I turn off the kitchen lights and head towards our room, but just as I am about to climb the stairs, I hear a voice brush past my ear.
“You are dead.”
And at the same instant, a shadow flickers behind me. My heart skips a beat, and I whip around, only to find no one there. My breath comes in quick, shallow bursts.
It’s nothing, I tell myself. It’s probably just my imagination.
I force myself to shake it off and grip the railing, willing my heartbeat to slow, but the dreadful unease inside me refuses to settle.
“Meera?”
I flinch at another sudden voice and turn, my hand flying to my chest. I let out a breath of relief when I see Dev standing at the top of the stairs.
“You scared me,” I say as he steps down, his brows slightly drawn with concern as he takes in my stiff posture.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Yeah… I just… I felt someone,” I stammer.
His jaw flexes. “Where?”
I gesture vaguely behind me. “There.”
Dev steps past me and scans the living room, his assessing eyes taking everything in before he disappears into the kitchen. The few minutes alone tighten my chest, and I am about to go to the kitchen after him when he comes back and stands in front of me.
“There’s no one here,” he says, cupping my cheek. I force a small nod just as he asks, “What are you doing here at this hour?”
My lips tremble as I try to form words. “I… I was thirsty. I came to get some water, and on my way back, I felt like someone was there.”
“There’s no one here,” he repeats. “You’re imagining it. Come on, let’s go to bed. It’s almost eleven.”
I nod shakily, allowing him to lead me up the stairs. My body is still trembling, but his arm wrapped around me keeps me steady. When we reach my room, I slip out of his hold and drop onto the edge of the bed, my body shuddering.
Why do I feel like it wasn’t my imagination… like someone really was there?
I hear the door close and look up as he crosses the room and sits beside me. I immediately turn to him and take his hand in mine.
“Dev… I swear, I felt someone. I don’t know how to explain it, but I felt it. I even heard his voice. Someone was there.”
Even as I speak, my hands tremble in his grasp.
Dev’s eyes soften, his lips brushing the top of my head.
“It’s nothing, sweetheart. Just your mind playing tricks.
After the attack, it’s normal for the smallest things to put you on edge.
” He wraps his arms around me and guides my head to rest against his chest as he gently runs his hand through my hair.
I bury my face deeper into his chest, inhaling shakily, taking in his scent—the faint traces of cologne mingling with the warmth of his skin. My body relaxes a little, though my fear lingers at the edges of my mind.
“I… I was so scared,” I admit, shaking from head to toe.
“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he says softly.
I nod shakily, letting out a relieved breath.
“You need to sleep it off,” he murmurs, about to pull back, but I cling to him, not wanting to let go, and just wanting to feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
“Please… don’t let go… Please let me stay like this,” my voice cracks, barely audible against his chest.
He squeezes me tighter, rocking me slightly. “Shh… it’s okay. I am here. I am not going anywhere, sweetheart.” He presses his lips to the top of my head again. “Just breathe. I am right here with you.”
The tears start falling freely now, and I don’t fight them.
I don’t care about how vulnerable I feel right now, and I don’t even care if it really was my imagination or not.
All that matters is him holding me, his arms tight around me, stroking my hair and murmuring soft assurances into my ear.
To me, they feel like nothing less than a lifeline, one I desperately need in this moment.
I lose track of time as I cling to him, desperate for every ounce of warmth, every fragment of comfort, every unshakable sense of safety that only he can give.
Pulling my head back, I cup his face and brush my fingers along his whiskered jaw. “Ca… can you…?” My voice falters.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he asks, his gaze searching mine.
I close my eyes for a few seconds, letting a shaky breath escape before the words spill free. “Make me yours… in every sense.”
Maybe I sound crazy for blurting it out, but I don’t care. I am exhausted from holding myself back when all I want is to give myself completely to him. And this didn’t happen overnight. He worked on us, on our relationship, and changed everything.
A few months ago, I had sworn I couldn’t stay with him for even a minute. And now? Now I cannot imagine leaving him. Not when he’s shown me how much I matter to him.
“You… y-you mean we… you really want us to…?” he stammers, his eyes wide.
“Please don’t ask me to explain,” I breathe. “I just want you. I want to be yours.”
“You don’t owe me an explanation,” he murmurs back. “Just tell me you truly want me and not because you’re feeling vulnerable. I need to know it’s your heart speaking, not your fear.”
I shake my head gently, a small breath escaping me. “I am not saying this because I am vulnerable. I am saying it because I’ve never been more sure of anything else in my life. Because every part of me pulls me towards you. Because I choose you… because I love you. My heart is choosing you, fully.”
He blinks at me, as if trying to process every word at once, and the next minute his voice comes out in a staggered whisper. “You… love… love me?”
I nod. “Yes… I love you. I just needed time to understand my own feelings.”
“I love you too, sweetheart,” he rasps before pinning me to the bed, his face inches from mine. “I just can’t tell you how happy I am to hear you say that… how long I’ve waited to hear those words from you. You don’t know what it’s done to me. All I know is that I am never letting you go… ever.”
I wrap my arms around his neck, butterflies fluttering in my stomach. “I never want to leave you either,” I whisper.
Before the words even leave my mouth, he crashes his lips against mine. Sparks explode through my body, and every nerve feels alive. My hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, as if I could melt into him and become one.
I pant as he pulls his mouth from mine. I open my mouth to protest, but the words die on my tongue, and I lick my lips, my eyes glued to him as he sits back on the bed and pulls his T-shirt over his head.
Holding my gaze, he tosses it onto the floor, and I can’t help but notice every flexing muscle, as if carved from stone.
His abs are so defined that I can trace each line across his chest and stomach.
I ache to touch the smooth skin, to follow the dark trail of hair disappearing into the waistband of his track pants.
But I don’t. I lie there in silence, simply admiring him.
He helps me sit up, his hands gently lifting my nightshirt over my head and letting it fall to the floor with his discarded T-shirt. I shiver as he unhooks my black lacy bra and slowly slides it down my arms before tossing it as well.
“You are so damn sexy,” he murmurs, pushing me back onto the pillow, his body pressing against mine, his breath warm against my skin.
Before I can anticipate his next move, he drops his head, and his hot mouth finds my breast, sucking hard and biting my sensitive nipple.
“Dev…” I whisper, caught somewhere between need and hesitation. He closes his fingers around the other tight bud, tugging it and sending a violent spasm through my core.
“Say it again,” he murmurs, lifting his head, his breath coming hard as his intense eyes lock onto mine. “Say you love me… say that you’re mine.”
My heart leaps, and I reach up, touching his face gently. “I love you,” I say with a smile. “Only you. And… I am yours.”
Grinning, he leans down again as his tongue begins to trace along the valley between my breasts and down my belly. I clutch the bedsheet, my hips lifting instinctively. He takes the moment to pull my pyjama pants along with the black panties down my legs and tosses them behind him.
“God, wifey… you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he whispers, his voice strained as he spreads my legs, making my breath catch in my chest. His fingers trail slowly between my thighs, sending a rush of warmth through me. “And you’re so damn wet,” he breathes hoarsely.
“Dev….”
“I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you,” he breathes, his fingers moving in and out of my wet heat, knowing exactly how to unravel me. Every touch, every caress sends a shiver through me.
“Please, Dev… please.” I don’t even know what I am begging for. All I know is that I want the ache to ebb.
“Patience, sweetheart. I’ll get you there,” he murmurs, before he slides down and lowers his mouth to my core.
Stunned by the sensation, I shiver uncontrollably, screaming his name as his tongue replaces his fingers and he begins licking and sucking me greedily.
And when he flicks the tiny bundle of nerves, it drives my need to the brink of insanity.
“Dev… oh, God… please!” I yank at his hair, my body trembling, stretched thin with sensation after sensation.
The tension finally breaks, and I let out a shuddering moan as waves of sensation wash over me as I climax.
Through half-lidded eyes, I watch as he gets up and rips off his jeans and boxer briefs in one swift motion, setting his hard cock free.
My pulse spikes, and I struggle to draw in a steady breath as I take him in, standing in his naked glory.
Holding my gaze, he presses his body against mine once more, covering his warm, bare skin with mine completely as he settles between my legs, creating a sense of closeness that sets my body ablaze all over again.
“Wrap your legs around me,” he whispers gruffly, his lips tracing a path from my neck to my ears, and I obey. The feel of his cock straining at my entrance has me breathless with anticipation. And when he presses in a little, I can’t help but flinch.
“Damn… you’re so tight, sweetheart,” he says, gritting his teeth.
“Dev… I’ve never… I am a virgin,” I blurt out.
His eyes darken, a possessive heat burning in his gaze as he stares at me for a few long moments, making it impossible to know what thoughts are running through his mind.
Then he finally smiles. “I am one lucky bastard to have you. And I can’t even begin to tell you what it means…
you trusting me with something so precious.
I know I don’t deserve it, but I swear I’ll treasure it. I’ll treasure you.”
“You deserve it.” I run my hands over his damp skin, tracing the lines of his back. He exhales sharply at my touch, and I slide my hands up to grasp his shoulders, pulling him closer until our foreheads touch.
“Make me yours,” I whisper, my voice trembling with certainty. “Please.”
He surges forward with a low groan, pushing his way through my barriers and burying himself inside me.
The pain is fleeting and slight, nothing compared to the overwhelming fullness and satisfaction of knowing he is intimately joined to me.
My muscles tense, and he pauses, giving me a moment to adjust. Once he feels I am relaxed enough, he begins thrusting in and out.
“You feel so good,” he murmurs huskily, clenching his teeth.
“Hmmm,” I pant, tightening my legs around him.
“So damn tight. So damn wet. So damn fucking hot,” he growls, as he pulls back slightly, then drives himself in again, each movement deliberate and powerful.
“Yes,” I whisper, my nails digging into his back.
Desire coils tighter and tighter within me, aching to be released.
And the way he tips his head back, gritting his teeth, I know he’s right there with me, teetering on the edge.
It doesn’t take long before I find my release, my body trembling under the overwhelming waves of sensation.
He follows me soon after, and then drops his forehead to mine, both of us trying to catch our breath.
When he pulls back, his intense gaze locks onto mine, leaving me breathless in more ways than one.
“I love you so damn much,” he says, his voice rough with emotion.
I slide my arms around him, holding him close, and whisper back, “I love you too… more than anything.”
And when he leans in and kisses me—slow, deep, achingly passionate—a quiet certainty settles in my chest. I don’t regret a single moment I have shared with him. Instead, it feels like I have given something so intimate, so personal to the right man.
The one my heart loves.
My husband.