As I step back into the room, I stop in my tracks. She’s asleep. The tension in her face has melted away, her breathing slow and steady. And damn it—my heart stumbles at the sight of her. Because for the first time tonight, she looks at peace. And all I can think is—God, I want to be the reason she always feels that way.
I swallow hard, forcing down the tightness in my chest as I quietly make my way to her. Placing the ice pack on the nightstand, I lower myself onto the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb her. But I can’t help myself. Can’t stop my fingers from reaching out. With the lightest touch, I brush a stray strand of hair from her face.
She has no idea what she does to me. How much space she takes up in my mind, in my damn chest, and in my fucking life. She doesn’t know how badly I wish she’d stop running from me.
I lean in slightly, my voice barely a whisper. “You drive me insane.”
She stirs, but doesn’t wake.
“You fight me at every turn,” I murmur, my gaze locked on her peaceful face. “But I’ll keep fighting for you, no matter how far you run.”
My throat tightens as I pull my hand back and grab the ice pack before gently pressing it to her ankle, watching for any sign of discomfort. She shifts slightly but remains asleep. A few minutes later, I place the ice pack back on the nightstand.
I should leave. I should go to the guestroom. But I don’t. Instead, I do the one thing I know I shouldn’t. I move to the other side of the bed. Slowly, carefully, I slide in beside her, making sure not to wake her.
Sana doesn’t stir. Her breathing stays soft, steady, completely clueless about the fire her intensity is lighting inside me. God, control’s so overrated when it comes to her. I hesitate for a second before reaching for her gently, pulling her into my arms. She fits against me so perfectly. Her warmth seeps into my skin. Her scent—something soft, something undeniably her—wraps around me, unraveling the last bit of control I have left.
My arm tightens around her waist, securing her against me. She murmurs something incoherent in her sleep, her face nuzzling into my chest, and I swear my heart nearly gives out.
I press my lips to her hair, my voice nothing more than a breath. “You’re mine, Sana.”
She shifts slightly, but still doesn’t wake. And as I close my eyes, holding her close, I let myself have this moment.
Chapter 29
Sana
Blinking against the dimly lit room, it takes a moment for my sleep to fade and for reality to settle in. I’m on Aditya’s bed, his arms wrapped around me, my back pressed against his chest.
And for a heartbeat, I forget how to breathe.
I should pull away. I should move, put some space between us, remind myself this is dangerous. If only I had a little more control over this.
His warmth, the steady rise and fall of his breathing, the way his arm tightens slightly even in sleep—it’s a pull I don’t have the strength to fight. My eyes flutter shut, my heart hammering against my ribs.
For the first time in my life, I ache to take that step. I don’t want to think. I just want to feel. To close the distance, to shatter the invisible wall I’ve spent the last few days building. Every fibre of me screams for it, trembles with the weight of wanting. But then the fear coils around the desire, reminding me of the consequences.
“Don’t think so much.” Aditya’s deep, sleep-roughened voice spills into my ear, breaking through the storm in my head. Before I can react, his tongue flicks against my earlobe, sendinga violent shiver down my spine. A sharp gasp escapes my lips. My body tenses, but not in protest. Instead, my body betrays me, leaning into him, seeking his warmth as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.
His grip tightens, his breath teasing against my skin. “God, you are so damn tempting,” he murmurs, his lips grazing the sensitive spot just below my ear, making my pulse stutter.
Still, I gather the courage to speak.
“Aditya, we can’t do this.” My voice trembles, barely louder than a breath.
He turns me around, his arms still wrapped around me, pulling me closer as his forehead presses against mine.
“No, Sana. I’m done,” he breathes, his voice cracking. “I can’t take this anymore. I need this. I need you.”
My heart slams against my ribs. I shake my head, trying to summon reason, trying to ignore the way my body responds to him. “This isn’t right. We—”
“Look at me.” He cuts me off as he pulls back to cup my face, his fingers brushing against my jaw with aching tenderness. “Tell me you don’t want this. Tell me you don’t want me.” His dark eyes search mine, desperate.
I open my mouth to lie. But nothing comes.
His thumb strokes over my lower lip, his voice breaking as he whispers, “Because I want you, Sana. I always have.”
A shaky breath escapes me, my hands fisting the front of his shirt like it’s the only thing keeping me from falling apart. “Aditya…” His name tumbles out, caught between hesitation and longing.
