He pushed open the door and guided me inside, then closed it behind us. The soft click of the door shutting felt significant somehow. Final.
We were alone. Truly alone. With no one to interrupt us. No obligations or responsibilities beyond this moment.
Just him and me and the truth that had been building between us since the day we met.
Armaan's hand was still around my wrist. He used that hold to gently pull me closer, backing me up until my shoulders touched the wall.
This position was familiar. We had been here before, that night when he was drunk and jealous and barely in control.
But this time was different. This time he was completely sober. Completely present. Completely in control of his actions.
And so was I.
He released my wrist and brought both hands up to frame my face. His touch was reverent, almost worshipful. Like I was something precious he was afraid might break.
His eyes dropped to my lips, and I saw the exact moment his control began to slip. The exact moment hunger overtook hesitation.
He looked back up at my eyes, asking one more silent question.
I answered by tilting my face up toward his.
His gaze dropped to my lips again, lingering there. Then back to my eyes, as though memorizing this moment. As though he wanted to remember exactly how I looked right before everything changed.
Then, finally, he closed the distance between us.
His lips touched mine, soft and gentle at first. A whisper of contact that sent sparks racing through my entire body.
I gasped softly at the sensation, and he used that opportunity to deepen the kiss. His mouth moved against mine with increasing confidence, increasing passion.
The kiss was not just a kiss. It was a declaration. A promise. A beginning.
My lips met his with a hunger that had been simmering for months, for a lifetime. I kissed him back with everything I had, with all the longing I’d bottled up, with all the confusion that had finally crystallized into this single, clear desire.I wanted him.
He was so tall. I had to rise onto my toes to meet him properly, straining to reach his mouth. He noticed immediately. A soft groan escaped him, and then his hands—strong, sure hands—cupped under my thighs and lifted me effortlessly from the ground. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, locking me against him. The dress bunched around my hips. I felt his hardness pressing against me even through the layers of our clothing, and a gasp shuddered out of me.
His tongue explored my mouth—not invading, butclaiming. A slow, thorough exploration that tasted me, learned me. One of my hands clutched at his shoulder, the other tangled in the thick, soft hair at the nape of his neck. I held him there, keeping him close, as if he might disappear again.
He broke the kiss, panting slightly, his eyes dark pools of heat. He looked down at me, suspended against him, my face flushed, my lips swollen from his attention. He smiled—a real, tender smile that softened the intensity in his gaze for just a second.
“You feel so good,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion.
Then he began to move downward.
His lips left mine and trailed along my jaw, a hot, wet path that made me shiver. He found the sensitive spot just below my ear and lingered there, sucking gently, before continuing down the column of my neck. His mouth was open, his breath scalding my skin. I arched against him, offering more.
One of his hands left my thigh and reached behind me. I felt his fingers fumbling for a moment, then finding the single tie that held the back of my yellow dress together. He pulled it loose.
The silk fabric, now unsupported, slid down my shoulders. It pooled around my waist, held there only by my legs wrapped around him and the press of his body against mine. My chest was exposed, covered only by the lacy white bra I wore beneath.
He lowered his head. His lips brushed the skin just above the bra’s cup, then dipped lower, kissing the swell of my breast. His tongue flicked out, tasting me through the fabric.
I was burning. I needed more. Without thought, my hand came up and tugged at the cup of the bra, pulling it down until my breast sprang free.
He didn’t hesitate. His mouth closed over my nipple immediately. The sensation was so sharp, so direct, I cried out.“Armaan!”
He hummed against my skin, the vibration adding another layer of pleasure. His tongue began to move, circling the stiff peak, then lapping broadly at the areola. He suckled gently, then with more pressure, drawing my flesh deeper into the warmth of hismouth. I was panting, my head thrown back against the wall, my fingers gripping his hair tightly.
He switched his attention to my other breast, his hand now working behind me again. He found the clasp of the bra and released it. The garment fell away, tumbling to the floor somewhere behind us. Now both breasts were bare, heavy and full, swaying slightly with the motion of my body held against him.
