My heart stumbles, and for a moment I just stare at her, memorizing the softness of her mouth, the way her fingers twist the sheet nervously. “Are you sure?”
She nods, and that tiny gesture undoes me.
I lower my lips to hers, starting slow, testing. She responds tentatively, like she’s still learning the shape of us, and I let her set the rhythm. My hand skims her waist, her skin warm under my touch, and her body arches toward me on instinct. That small, unspoken surrender sends heat rushing through me.
“I’ve never…” she starts, her voice breaking.
I hush her with a kiss. “Neither have I,” I admit against her lips, honesty pulling me bare. “We’ll figure it out together.”
Her breath catches, and she lets out a shaky laugh that feels like sunlight breaking through clouds.
I move slowly, mapping every inch of her, committing her to memory. The way her breath stutters when I touch the inside of her wrist. The way her eyes squeeze shut when my mouth trails down her neck. The way she whispers my name, soft and urgent, like a prayer.
Desire claws at me, but I force myself to keep control. She deserves tenderness, not hunger. When I finally settle above her, I search her eyes again, waiting for the smallest sign of hesitation.
She gives me none. Only a nod, small but sure.
I press a kiss to her forehead, then her lips, whispering into her skin. “Tell me if it hurts. Tell me anything, and I’ll stop.”
Her fingers grip my shoulders, grounding me. “Just… don’t let go.”
The words nearly undo me.
When I move inside her, she winces, her body tensing, and guilt stabs through me. I pause instantly, brushing her hair back, kissing away the strain on her forehead. “Breathe with me,” I whisper, holding her close until her breaths fall in sync with mine. “That’s it. I’ve got you.”
Slowly, she relaxes, her body yielding, her nails biting into my back as she pulls me closer. Every sigh, every shudder, every whispered plea is etched into me. And when she finally moves with me, matching my rhythm, it feels less like sex and more like something sacred.
Her lips brush my ear. “Vihaan…”
My name has never sounded like this before. Raw. Needful. Loved.
“I love you,” I murmur, my voice breaking, my forehead pressed to hers. “God, Poorvi, I love you so much.”
And when her body tightens around me, when her cry mixes with mine, it feels like the world disappears, leaving only us—two hearts, one rhythm, one truth.
Afterward, I gather her against me, her body trembling in the aftershocks. I kiss her hair, her cheeks, her lips, whispering over and over, “You’re mine. You’re everything. You’re perfect.”
Her eyes glisten as she whispers back, “I can’t believe this is real. You’re real.”
I cup her face, making sure she sees the truth in me. “It’s real. We’re real. And this is only the beginning.”
She buries her face in my chest, and as sleep begins to take her, I press one last kiss to her hair. “I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you,” I whisper into the darkness. “Every day. Every moment.”
CHAPTER 42
Too many distractions
POORVI
The blinking cursor on my laptop screen mocks me. It’s not moving forward, not turning into the neat paragraphs it’s supposed to. Just sitting there, flashing, like it knows I’ve wasted too much time already.
This assignment was due yesterday. Technically, I’ve been given an extension—one week, no more—but every time I try to focus, my mind wanders. First, it was the incident. Everyone’s eyes on me, whispers curling in the air, some sympathetic, some sharp, all of them leaving invisible marks on my skin. Then it was… Vihaan.
Heat rushes to my cheeks before I even let myself think about it properly.
Last night. The way he kissed me like I was something precious. The way his touch made me forget every fear I’d been carrying. The way his forehead rested against mine when he whispered “I love you” like it was a vow.
No, no, no. Stop. Focus, Poorvi.
