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By the time she was fragmenting into a thousand shards, Naina felt as he’d bound her to him permanently. She could imagine no other man showing her this care. No other man watching her with such ferocity. No other man putting her needs first.
Their foreheads leaning against each other’s, their breaths were a harsh symphony. Her sex still pulsed from her orgasm but Naina wanted more already. She wanted everything. And she was beginning to realize that everything with this man could literally mean her...everything. Her mind, body and soul.
But even that stray thought couldn’t dull the impulse to touch him. To know him. To learn what gave him just as much pleasure.
“You know what I regretted most about that night?”
His gaze jerked to her, his brows drawing into a scowl. “What?”
Pushing herself up onto her elbows, she snuck her hands under his shirt. “That I hardly touched you at all. That I just lay back and let you...do all the work. Today, I want to rectify that.”
“I will let you have your way with me. To an extent,” he added.
Naina rolled her eyes at his arrogance, refusing to let him deny her this.
Warm, taut skin greeted her questing, hungry fingers. She traced the ridge of his abdominal muscles, up his defined pectorals. Some instinct she didn’t even know she had made her alternately scrape her nails against the smooth skin and then pull through the rough trail of hair. Up and down, she ran her fingers.
Head thrown back, he let her have fun. Let her have her way with him. A profusion of joy and warmth filled her to see him submit to her this way. This all-powerful man to the entire world, and with her...he was Vikram. Just Vikram who liked old songs and tart retorts and rough kisses and her. He was this way only with her, and it was the biggest joy she’d ever known.
The corded muscles in his neck stood out. Pushing herself up even further, Naina pressed her open mouth against the hollow of his neck and licked him. His arm came around her waist immediately, holding her up while she feasted on the jut of his shoulders, the pulse at his neck. Always watching out for her.
His innate concern only twisted the hunger more tightly inside her. She wanted to crawl into his heart and burrow there. Clasping his cheeks with her palms, she sucked his plush lower lip into her mouth. “I told Ajay he was getting this curve of yours all wrong,” she whispered.
He raised a brow.
“When he was drawing you,” she clarified.
He still glared. And then he sighed.
“I don’t want to hear his name right now, Dream Girl.” He tugged at her lower lip with his teeth in retaliation and she moaned at the sharp sting. The sheer heaven of his caresses pulsed even brighter in contrast. He soothed the tiny hurt by blowing on it, his eyes raking over her face. “I don’t want him drawing you anymore. That picture of you...it was brilliant. And it felt like he achieved that only because he knows you so well.”
Her eyes wide, she stared at him. “You’re serious.”
He hummed his assent against the shell of her ear.
“I find I’m very possessive over you, Dream Girl. The fact that he laughs with you, that he shares his talent with you...that he knows you so well, while I watch on like a spectator, wanting so badly to be the one to be next to you...it’s hard for me to reconcile at my age what a sore loser I am. So take pity on me and refrain from any more midnight trysts with him.”
She giggled and traced the lines around his mouth. “You’re not that old. And it wasn’t a midnight tryst. We were watching one of your films. He idolizes you.”
He simply shrugged. As if this didn’t make a whole lot of difference. Suddenly serious, he cupped her cheek. “You’re one of those people to whom everyone is drawn. I’m realizing that now. I was wrong to assume you’re a pushover.”
She plunged her fingers into his hair and sighed. “Ajay and I are just friends. We laugh a lot and—”
“Ah...there’s the rub, Dream Girl. It’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s just that I...”
“You’re what?” she said when he trailed off, caught by the expression in his eyes. It was unreadable. Suddenly, it felt as if she couldn’t reach him. As if he’d drawn himself behind a curtain she couldn’t open.
“I’m selfish, especially it seems, when it comes to you. I don’t want just your kisses and your moans. I want your tart comebacks, your hopes and fears, your laughter, your dreams...” Holding her gaze, he ran his big palm over her neck, to the valley between her breasts, to her belly and finally, to cup her mound. “...your everything.” He pulled away, and she felt the loss of his touch like an ache. “I want you too much, this too much. And in my experience that’s never a good thing.”
“Speak for yourself,” she said, not liking his tone or the bleak look in his eyes.
Determined to erase his sudden doubts, she slowly kissed his jaw. Dotted a line of open kisses to his mouth. This time, it was she that took. She who kissed and nipped and bit and licked until they were panting against each other. It was she who controlled his pleasure, she who chased his tongue in his mouth, she that became the aggressor. And she loved it.
She pulled his skin between her teeth, while sending her fingers back down, past the waistband of his trousers, to his throbbing erection. The hardness of him against her palm had her moaning out loud.
With a boldness she’d discovered she loved within herself, Naina scooted closer, until his thigh was pushing up against her core. She traced the shape of his shaft through his jeans, up and down, cupping and stroking, reveling in the tight tension that deepened in his body as she caressed him.
She had done this to him. Her.
