🍁Hasi🍁

🍁Chapter:18 (Part III) 🍁

🍁Chapter:18 (Part III)🍁

Third Person PoV

Hands grabbed at her waist from behind, her lips stretched into that beautiful smile once more.

If Aryan was drunk on touching her, she was equally if not more addicted to his touch.

It ignited a passion within her that held no bounds, a new kind of feeling, something she had not felt for some years.

The skin where he touched her felt inflamed, irritated with passion, red... burning passion.

She did not react and still laid with her back at him, his hand slipped inside her shirt to caress away at her lean body. His touch was a mere whisper, rough fingertips slowly crept up her spine and she gasped when his mouth fell on her ear, playfully gripping it by his teeth.

He tugged on it just as his fingers gilded over her spine. A shudder. That's what she felt, when his hand, now bolder in administration shifted its attention to the other parts of her body.

"Aryan..." She whimpered, chasing after his fingertips but he scoffed, moving away, that sly smirk told her all there was to know.

"Beg." She gasped out his name, hand coming up to yank his head by his hair. Her hand pulled him near, and for a moment his confidence wavered, under the moonlight on their bed, she still had him wrapped around her finger.

She pulled him as close as possible, lips just barely away from meeting. Then, she smirked. She knew she had him bewitched, he watched her as if she was something to be devoured, stripped of control, and made to beg for more.

"Beg me." And then she aggressively pulled him directly onto herself, Aryan whimpered, the evidence of his arousal pressed into her thigh just as she brought up a knee to gently create the friction she knew he had been craving.

"Beg, Aryan." A low-key growl and then the tables turned, Aryan snapped his eyes up to her, and his huge hand ferociously drove her small ones away from his body and above her head. She gasped but it was muffled by the sudden kiss he roughly landed on her lips.

"If anyone begs, Darling," he mocked hand landing just above her navel, he dove into the valley of her neck, nibbling and biting. His one hand still held hers in a bruising grip but somehow, instead of hurting...it was a significant turn-on.

"It's you."

Virat woke up with a gasp. His arm ached from where it was wrapped in a cast.  His back hurt as he moved to lie down instead of sitting up as he did when he fell asleep. His breath heaved and the nightmare that was Isha's marriage kept looming over his mind just as it did in the past few days. 

He had set out to Aryan's house in the middle of the night, five days ago. Though he never reached his destination because of the major accident he had caused which broke some of his ribs and dislocated his left shoulder. Amusingly he had rammed his bike directly into a parked police vehicle while the two officers were on duty. They had caught on, of course, that he had been driving under the influence, so the first course of action was to send him to the hospital and then charge him whatever he was due.

So now Virat had no vehicle, his bones were fractured, his shoulder dislocated, no job to pay up all the debt he had created, and no Isha.

His one decision had cost him everything. 

And if he thought mentally he would be left alone- every night, he would wake up to the dreams of Isha and Aryan together. Isha happy with Aryan, Isha loving Aryan.