CHAPTER 46 #2
She stares at me for a second, her face breaks into a huge grin, and she nods, making me smile like an idiot.
We paint a little longer. Her lines are delicate and practiced. Mine are, well... chaotic. At one point, I look at her canvas and lean closer.
“Is that me?”
She tilts her head, thoughtful. “It was supposed to be.”
I look again. “Why do I look like a constipated ghost?”
She bursts out laughing—head thrown back, body shaking. That laugh. It’s everything. “Because you are,” she giggles, and I fake a gasp. A smirk stretched across my lips.
“That’s it. War.”
Her eyes widen. “Aarav, don’t you dare—”
But I’ve already dipped my brush in blue and flicked it gently toward her, making sure it doesn’t get on her dress because I don’t want to die young. A perfect streak lands on her arm.
She gasps. “You did not.”
“I absolutely did.”
She grabs a brush and lunges—blue smears my shirt, right over the chest pocket.
I blink. “This was new.”
She grins. “Now it’s art.”
“Art, huh?”
Before she can escape, I grab a handful of green and swipe it lightly across her cheek. She shrieks, laughing so hard she doubles over, and throws paint right back at me—her hands smearing color across my face and my neck.
Somewhere between our playful shouts and laughter, I grab her waist. She stumbles forward, and suddenly we’re nose to nose. Breathless. Covered in color. Her eyes lock with mine, and everything stills.
Her smile fades into something quieter. Her fingers, still paint-stained, curl gently around my collar. “You look ridiculous,” she whispers.
I grin. “You look beautiful.”
I don't know who moves first—her or me—but the kiss is soft and messy and perfect. Her lips taste like strawberry gloss and the adrenaline of being chased. My hands find her waist; hers tangle in my hair. It’s clumsy at first—like our paint strokes—but it deepens quickly and turns slower and needier.
Like we’re trying to memorize each other all over again.
When we break apart, we’re both panting.
I pin her against the table with another deep kiss, my tongue brushing hers, craving more.
Her fingers clutch my arms, her body pressing into mine, making it clear she’s just as desperate as I am.
I trail my lips down her neck, leaving a path of messy kisses, my teeth grazing against her skin.
She shivers, her breath hitches as I reach the edge of her dress.
“Are you wearing any underwear?” I growl, my hand sliding up her thigh.
She smiles slyly, her eyes darkening with lust. “What do you think?”
“I think I’m going to find out.” My hand slips under her dress, creeping higher, her breath hot against my neck.
“And if someone sees us?” She gasps, and I pause.
My hand is still on her thigh. “Let them,” I answer, my thumb brushing dangerously higher, “Let them all see how you’re mine, and mine only.”
“Aarav,” she whispers, her eyes wide and needy.
I pull her hips closer, my arousal clear against her. “Does it make you uncomfortable?” I nibble her collarbone, and she melts into me. Completely. Her lips find mine in a kiss that takes my breath away.
“No,” she says, bending on the table, “I am all yours to take, Mr. Malhotra.” She smirks slyly, and I groan.
She knows she’s killing me. Her words, her confidence—it fuels the fire within me, erasing the last bit of restraint I had.
I push her back on the table, the surface cool against her bare skin.
“Mine to take?” my voice was a gravelly whisper against the hollow of her throat. “You have no idea what you’ve just unleashed.”
I press my body against hers, trapping her against the table. My hands slide under her dress, slowly, savoring the journey. Her breath hitches, and her eyes flutter shut as I insert a finger inside her, rubbing her clit with my thumb. Her eyes roll back from pleasure.
Her breath catches, her body instinctively arching into my touch. I bring my hand to her face, cupping her cheek, forcing her to look me in the eyes. “Look at me,” I demand, my thumb brushing across her bottom lip. “Look at me, and tell me who you belong to.”
She opens her eyes, her gaze locking onto mine. “I’m yours,” she whispers, breathless. “Always yours.”
“Good girl,” I smack her ass through the dress, and she yelps.
I take out my finger. “Aarav,” she whines.
I chuckle, “So miserable, my pretty wife.” I shake my head as I remove the condom from my pocket and tear the packet using my teeth, all the while maintaining eye contact with her.
“You carry a condom everywhere?” She narrows her eyes at me.
I chuckle, “Yes, I have to.” I bite her bottom lip. “I have a gorgeous wife; I don’t know when I will need it.” I wink, and she snatches the condom from my hand. I frown.
“You are too slow,” she complains. I open my mouth to tease her, but the words die in my throat as she pushes me back slightly and drops down to her knees in front of me.
Her nimble fingers undo my pants, pulling them down just enough to free my aching member.
She looks up at me, her gaze wicked, a smirk playing on her lips.
“Looks like I’m not the only one who’s impatient.” She raises an eyebrow, a challenge in her eyes. “You’re just going to stand there…all…” Her fingers wrap around my length, stroking me gently.
“Impatient…” Her thumb rubs over the tip, collecting the drop of precum that’s already gathering there. She brings her thumb up to her mouth, swirling her tongue around it before sucking it clean. My head falls back as a groan escapes my lips.
She rolls the condom on my dick, and I have to suppress a moan because damn, her hands feel good.
Her touch is maddening—confident, unhurried, and completely in control.
My hands grip the edge of the table behind me as she strokes me, slowly, deliberately, her gaze never leaving mine. I’m barely hanging on.
“Anika,” I grit out, voice rough, strained. “You’re playing with fire.”
She smiles—smug, wicked, beautiful. “Then burn with me.”
Before I can respond, she rises, grabbing me by the collar and yanking me into a kiss that’s all teeth and tongue and desperation. Her body presses against mine, soft in all the places that make me weak, and I lift her onto the table without breaking the kiss.
She wraps her legs around my waist instinctively, pulling me closer until there’s no space left between us—just heat, tension, and a hunger I can’t ignore anymore.
My hands grip her thighs as I align myself with her entrance. She’s already so wet, so ready, it’s almost cruel to draw it out—but I do, just for a second, teasing her folds, watching the way her mouth parts with a needy whimper.
“Aarav,” she gasps, hips lifting in silent demand.
“I’ve got you,” I murmur, one hand curling around her lower back as I push into her slowly, inch by inch, until I’m fully seated inside her.
She gasps—eyes wide, lips parted—her nails digging into my shoulders as she adjusts around me. I wait, forehead pressed to hers, our breaths mingling, her chest heaving against mine.
Then she moves. Hips rolling, pulling me deeper, and I lose all sense of control.
I thrust into her hard and deep, the sound of skin meeting skin filling the empty studio. Her moans echo off the walls, raw and real and mine. I bury my face in her neck, kissing, biting, and sucking until she’s trembling under me.
Her dress is bunched at her waist, her body open, vulnerable, and beautiful. I shift her slightly, lifting one of her legs higher over my arm to hit deeper, and her cry of pleasure nearly undoes me.
“Yes—right there,” she whimpers.
I slam into her harder, faster, chasing that spot again and again, watching her come undone beneath me. “Look at you,” I growl against her lips, “taking me all in like a good girl.” I squeeze her right breast through her dress; she cries out, her voice breaking, her hands clawing at my back.
Her orgasm hits her fast, violently, and blindingly. Her entire body tightens around me, back arching, head thrown back. I hold her through it, never stopping, never slowing, chasing my own release as she falls apart in my arms.
I follow with a low groan, my body shuddering against hers as I empty into the condom, breathing her name like a prayer.
We collapse into each other, breathless, sweaty, and still tangled.
A beat passes. Then another. She blinks up at me, dazed and glowing, and I press a soft kiss to her forehead.
“I am all yours, Anu,” I whisper.
Her smile is lazy and satisfied. “Damn right you are.”