Chapter 20
Armaan
I watched Viya run along the beach like she had never seen the ocean before.
Her white dress billowed around her legs with each step, and her hair streamed behind her like a dark banner in the wind.
She was laughing, her face tilted up toward the sky, her arms spread wide as though she could embrace the entire world.
She looked free. Unburdened. Happy in a way I had never seen her before.
And I had done that. I had given her this moment of pure joy.
The thought filled me with a satisfaction deeper than any business deal I had ever closed.
I stood at the edge of the beach, my shoes sinking slightly into the sand, content to just watch her. She ran to the water's edge and let the waves wash over her bare feet. She squealed at the cold and jumped back, then laughed at herself.
She was so beautiful it actually hurt to look at her sometimes.
After a while, she slowed down, her run becoming a walk, her breathing heavier. She was getting tired. I could see it in the way her steps became less energetic, the way her shoulders drooped slightly.
I walked toward her, my dress shoes completely unsuitable for beach walking but I did not care. When I reached her, she turned and smiled at me, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright.
"That was amazing," she said breathlessly. "Thank you for this. For all of this."
I reached out and tucked a strand of wind blown hair behind her ear.
"We are not done yet."
Her eyebrows rose in curiosity.
"What do you mean?"
I took her hand and led her down the beach, away from the restaurant. We walked for about five minutes until we reached a section of the beach that had been cordoned off with elegant rope barriers.
Beyond the barrier was a glamping setup.
A large, luxurious tent with open sides that allowed the ocean breeze to flow through.
Inside, I could see a massive bed piled high with pillows and soft blankets.
Soft string lights were draped along the tent posts, casting a warm, romantic glow.
Candles in glass holders were placed strategically around the space, their flames protected from the wind.
Viya stopped walking and stared.
"Armaan... what is this?"
"Somewhere we can relax and enjoy the night without rushing back to the hotel."
She looked up at me, her eyes wide.
"You planned all of this? The restaurant, the beach, now this?"
"I wanted tonight to be perfect for you. For us."
Her expression softened into something so tender it made my chest ache. She stood on her toes and pressed a soft kiss to my cheek.
"It already is perfect. Thank you."
I led her to the glamping tent. The bed looked impossibly inviting, covered in white linens and surrounded by the gentle sound of waves and the soft glow of candlelight.
Viya climbed onto the bed with a contented sigh, stretching out like a cat. I followed, lying down beside her and pulling her close. She immediately snuggled into me, her head finding its favorite spot on my shoulder, her hand resting over my heart.
This. This was what peace felt like.
We lay there in comfortable silence for a while, just listening to the rhythmic sound of the ocean. The waves rolled in and out, in and out, eternal and soothing. The breeze carried the salt scent of the sea mixed with the faint fragrance of the tropical flowers that grew nearby.
Above us, stars were beginning to appear in the darkening sky. Here, away from the city lights, they shone brighter than I had ever seen them.
"I could stay here forever," Viya murmured against my chest.
"Then we will."
She laughed softly.
"We both have work tomorrow. And meetings. And responsibilities."
"Let them wait."
She lifted her head to look at me, her eyes searching my face.
"You are different tonight. More relaxed. Like a weight has been lifted."
She was right. I did feel lighter. Being with her like this, no secrets between us about how we felt, no barriers or distance, it made everything else seem insignificant.
Well, not quite no secrets. The guilt about the real reason for our marriage still nagged at the back of my mind. But I pushed it away. I would deal with that soon. Just not tonight.
"Being with you makes me feel like I can breathe again," I said honestly. "This past month without you was suffocating."
Her hand moved from my heart to my face, her fingers tracing along my jaw with such gentleness it made me close my eyes.
"I am here now," she whispered. "I am not going anywhere."
"Promise me."
She looked surprised by the intensity in my voice.
"Promise you what?"
"That you will stay. That you will not leave me. That no matter what happens, you will be by my side."
Something flickered in her eyes. A question, maybe. Or uncertainty. But then it was gone, replaced by determination.
"I give you my word," she said, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. "As long as you want me by your side, that is exactly where I’ll stay."
"In that case," I whispered "you’re never leaving. I’ll want you for as long as the stars are in the sky."
The words came out before I could stop them, raw and honest and terrifying in their permanence. But I meant every syllable.
The words hung in the air between us, shimmering with the weight of a vow. Viya’s eyes widened, her breath catching, and for a second the whole world seemed to pause—the waves, the wind, the flickering candlelight—just to witness this moment.
Then she surged toward me, her lips finding mine with a desperate, grateful hunger that stole my breath. The kiss was deep, wet, messy. It was a confession and an answer all at once. Her hands clawed into my shoulders, pulling me closer, as if she could absorb me right through my skin.
The emotion was so thick, so overwhelming, it quickly burned into something else—a raw, physical need.
My hands, which had been cupping her face with tenderness, slid down her back, pulling her body flush against mine.
I could feel every curve, the heat of her through the thin fabric of her dress, the rapid beat of her heart against my chest.
I shifted, pulling her up and into my lap so she was straddling me.
Her knees pressed into the soft mattress on either side of my hips.
The position brought her chest right to my face.
That white dress, so innocent and lovely, was now a tantalizing barrier.
My fingers found the simple knot at the front of her bodice. With a deliberate tug, it came undone.
The dress loosened, falling open. I didn’t peel it off her yet. I just looked.
The fabric gaped, revealing the smooth, pale skin of her upper chest, the delicate valley between her breasts.
She wasn’t wearing a bra. The knowledge sent a bolt of pure lust straight through me.
Her breasts were full and heavy, their soft weight hinted at even through the dress.
My eyes were glued to the shadowed cleavage, to the way the material barely clung to the curves.
I finally lifted the dress up and over her head, letting it fall discarded beside the bed.
She was bare to the waist now, sitting in my lap in nothing but her panties.
The candlelight played over her skin, painting her in gold and shadow.
Her breasts were perfection—a generous, soft swell that begged for my touch.
My eyes traced their shape, the way they rose and fell with her nervous breathing, the pale pink nipples already tightening in the cool breeze.
I didn’t touch them with my hands. First, I leaned forward and kissed the space between them, nuzzling into her warmth.
She gasped, her hands coming to rest on my head, not pushing me away but holding me there.
I kissed lower, my lips tracing a path to the underside of one breast, feeling the incredible softness, the heft of it against my face.
“Armaan…” she breathed.
I finally took one in my hand. The flesh was so warm, so pliant. My palm cupped its weight, feeling the full roundness. My thumb brushed over her nipple, and it hardened instantly under my touch. A soft moan escaped her lips.
“Do you like that?” I asked, looking up at her. Her eyes were closed, her head tilted back in surrender.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Tell me.”
“I… I like it. I like you touching me.”
“Good.” I shifted my attention to the other breast, giving it the same worshipful attention—kissing, licking, gently squeezing.
The sensations were overwhelming for both of us.
For me, the taste of her skin, the feel of her responsive body.
For her, the focused, possessive attention I lavished on her most intimate parts.
Her moans grew louder, less hesitant. Her hands clenched in my hair.
Her shyness was being stripped away, layer by layer, replaced by a dawning boldness. Her own hands moved to my shirt, fingers fumbling with the buttons. “I want to feel you,” she said, her voice gaining strength.
I helped her, pulling the shirt off myself and tossing it aside. Her eyes roamed over my chest, my shoulders. She leaned in and kissed my forehead, a sweet, almost reverent gesture that contrasted wildly with the heat building between us.
I couldn’t wait any longer. I buried my face in the sweet curve of her neck, inhaling her scent—sea salt, sunscreen, and pure Viya.
I kissed and nipped at the sensitive skin there, and she cried out, her back arching, pushing her breasts more firmly into my chest. I moved lower, my lips trailing a blazing path over her collarbone.I turned my head and captured her mouth again, kissing her deeply as my hands continued to knead and worship her breasts.
The kiss was a tangle of tongue and breath, hungry and consuming.
Between kisses, I murmured to her, my voice low and commanding.
“You’re mine, Viya. Every part of you. This perfect body… it belongs to me. You understand?”
She nodded, her eyes glazed with pleasure. “Yes.”
“Say it.”
“I’m yours,” she breathed. “All of me.”