“Try again.” His breath, rich with the faintest hint of whiskey, warmed my ear, sending another shiver down my spine.
His fingers shifted to cup my cheeks, his touch achingly gentle. The space between us was vanishing, evaporating into the heat building with every second. My gaze locked onto his, and my pulse thundered in my ears. His eyes held mine like a challenge, daring me to admit what I didn’t want to say.
And I was utterly, completely powerless against him. I swallowed hard, my traitorous body leaning just slightly into his touch. “Just… a little tired.”
He leaned closer, his forehead almost touching mine. “The way you look tonight… the way you’re fidgeting right now, trying to decide whether to push me away or pull me closer. I’m holding on by a thread here, baby.”
“Manav…” I whispered his name, though it sounded more like a plea than anything else.
That was all it took. His lips captured mine in a kiss that was slow but electrifying, every movement deliberate, every touch igniting something inside me I couldn’t name. His hand moved from my cheek to my neck, his fingers grazing the bare skin there as he deepened the kiss.
I was lost—completely and utterly lost in him. My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, desperate for more. He groaned softly against my lips, the sound sending a shiver down my spine.
When he finally pulled back, both of us were gasping for air. His forehead rested against mine, his eyes, darker than I’d ever seen, locked onto mine. “I’ve been holding back for too long,” he murmured, “and it’s getting harder to resist.”
I didn’t get the chance to reply because, the next moment, his lips were on mine again. The kiss wasn’t gentle this time. It was demanding, consuming, and utterly intoxicating. My back pressed into the car seat as his hand moved from my neck to the small of my back, pulling mecloser as if the space between us was unbearable.
Every stroke of his tongue against mine sent shockwaves through me, only for him to trail kisses down my neck, pausing at my collarbone. His hand slid lower, grazing the exposed skin of my back. For a moment, he just stared at me, his chest rising and falling heavily. Then, with a shaky exhale, he held my wrists and leaned back, his fingers brushing against my cheek before trailing down to my neck.
“We’re going inside,” he said, his tone firm. “Now.”
I didn’t get the chance to reply because, the next moment, he was out of the car, rushing around to open my door. His hand found mine, pulling me toward the house.
As soon as we stepped into the room, he slammed the door shut and spun me around, pressing me gently against it. His hands cupped my face, tilting it just right, his control slipping with every passing second as he deepened the kiss. My fingers gripped his shirt as if anchoring myself to him, and I could feel his heart pounding as hard as mine.
My hand trailed down his chest. His shirt buttons stared back at me like an invitation, and I couldn’t resist. Slowly, deliberately, I began undoing them one by one. His breath hitched as my fingers brushed against his skin, and his hands moved to my waist, gripping me tighter. “Kiara,” he warned, his tone a mix of exasperation and desire.
“Am I distracting you? I asked innocently, slipping another button free.
“You’re playing with fire,” he said, his voice trembling, though his lips twitched with the faintest hint of a smile.
I shrugged, my hands sliding under the now-open shirt to explore his toned chest. “Maybe I like the heat.”
That was all it took. The next moment, his lips were on mine again, his hands roaming my body as if trying tomemorize every curve. His shirt fell to the floor, forgotten, as he lifted me effortlessly, pinning me firmly against the door.
“I am three seconds away from breaking every fucking rule…” He growled, his voice thick and unsteady, dripping with need. His lips trailed down my jawline to my neck, igniting a trail of fire that sent shockwaves through my body. “The rules I made to stop myself from touching you the way I’ve wanted to for so long. The nights I’ve held you in my arms, wearing those damn nightwears, fighting every urge to lose control. And the way I think about you…” His voice dropped lower, rougher. “In the shower. Every. Single. Time.”
His hand slid to my shoulder, slowly easing the strap of my gown down, his lips following close behind, leaving a trail of heat that left me dizzy. “The dreams…” he murmured against my skin. “Where you’re mine… just mine.”
I could feel him, firm against my abdomen. The evidence of his desire was impossible to ignore, straining against the fabric of his trousers, his body radiating an intoxicating heat. Beads of sweat glistened under my touch as my palms roamed over his taut skin.
With a shaky breath, my fingers instinctively moved toward his belt, fumbling to unbuckle it. His hands caught my wrists gently, his grip firm yet tender, as though he was teetering on the edge of restraint.
“Kiara,” his breath hot against my collarbone. “If you keep going, I won’t be able to stop.”
I tilted my head slightly, brushing my lips against his, barely a whisper of a kiss. “Don’t stop.”
I pulled my hands free of his gentle hold, my fingers immediately returning to the buckle of his belt. This time, he didn’t stop me; his eyes fixed on mine as though he wasdaring me to continue. My hands worked quickly, unfastening the leather and sliding it free.
My hands wandered lower, gliding over the defined ridges of his abs, and a soft gasp escaped my lips. He was absolute perfection, every inch of him carved as if by some divine hand. His jaw was clenched tight, his eyes half-lidded as he watched me, dark and smoldering.
His fingers gripped my waist firmly, digging into my skin as though holding onto the last shred of his control. But I didn’t want him to hold back—not tonight, not now.
My fingertips traced the lines leading to his V, lingering just at the edge. His entire body tensed, a guttural sound rumbling from deep within his chest, somewhere between a growl and a plea. “Kiara…” His tone was a warning, but the way his breath hitched told me he wasn’t going to stop me.
I looked up at him through my lashes. I let my hand dip lower, brushing against the waistband. His reaction was immediate. His head tilted back slightly, a groan slipping from his lips as his grip on my waist tightened, his thumbs pressing into my skin.
My hand ventured further, teasing the edges of control, and his body responded like a live wire—tense, shuddering, his breathing growing uneven. His chest rose and fell in rhythm with his sharp breaths, and the heat radiating off him was enough to drown me.
