Page 192 of The Redemption
“Stay still,” he murmurs softly.
The low timbre of his voice alone makes my pulse stumble. I slowly lower my arms and watch him in the mirror as he carefully frees the pin. Raghav tries to remove it so carefully, as though he’s afraid the tiny piece of metal might prick my skin. His eyes are completely focussed on the task, his touch impossibly gentle. The same man who can put a bullet through a target without even looking is handling a simple safety pin like he’s touching a butterfly.
He finally frees the pin and tosses it onto the dressing table. The moment I realise it’s done, I try to move away. But before I can take a single step, his arm wraps around my waist, drawing me to him until my back collides with his bare chest, and the saree pallu slides down from my shoulder.
A gasp leaves my mouth as our eyes meet in the mirror again. The closeness between our bodies suddenly reminds me of our first kiss.
“Raghav…” I whisper. “You are invading my space.”
An arrogant smirk appears on his face as his fingers graze my navel, pulling me even closer. Not once does he take his gaze off mine in the mirror.
“Siya…” he murmurs near my ear. “No matter how close you stand to me, my body still thinks you’re too far.”
My heart leaps from its place. The man doesn’t even realise the effect those words have on me. His gaze remains on me in the mirror. Hungry, possessive, and unapologetically masculine. The way Raghav looks at me in this moment, I finally understand why even the strongest women have lost wars over dangerous men.
I know I would. Because this man here,my husband,looks at me as though I’m his entire world. The next instant, Raghav sweeps my hair to one side before his lips brush softly against my bare skin, lingering just long enough to steal my breath away. But all I do is stare at us in the mirror… at the intimidating mafia prince behind me and the woman in his arms, who no longer knows where her walls begin and where her boundaries end.
Raghav Kundra has become impossible to resist. He presses another soft kiss against my shoulder before trailing them up to the curve of my neck. Each feather-soft butterfly kiss only makes my breath come faster and harder. I stare at our reflection in the mirror, watching every gentle kiss strip whatever self-control I have left, bit by bit.
But when his kisses turn desperate and hungry against my neck, I completely melt. Turning within the circle of his arms, I rise to my toes and kiss him properly.Deeply. He groans back and claims my lips fully. The moment I part my lips to catch my breath, he slides his tongue into my mouth. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him closer to me.
Damn! Are we really doing this?
As if Raghav can read my unspoken thoughts, his hands are everywhere on me now. We’re doing much more than just kissing. I know that seeing me in a saree today has awakened every restless desire within him, and now that he can finally kiss me and touch me, it’s as if nothing else exists for him anymore, as if his entire world only revolves around me. His fingers brushover my breasts before he cups them, eliciting a moan from my lips.
“Mine,” he murmurs possessively, squeezing one before reaching for the other. The kiss deepens, growing more intense, more desperate, until I can barely remember my own name.
The only name that comes to my mind is his…Raghav.
I pull back when my breathing becomes so intense that I fear I might have a heart attack. I search his eyes, almost needing to convince myself that we are really doing this. But this time, Raghav doesn’t pull me back by my waist. Instead, his hand slips to where the pleats of my saree are tucked in at the front. Curling his fingers around the fabric, he pulls me right back against him and captures my lips again with the same hunger. The mere brush of his fingers, so dangerously close to my bare skin, sends goosebumps racing across my body.
I kiss him back just as fiercely. The next thing I know, he has me pinned against the wall beside the dressing table, his head buried between my cleavage. My fingers slip into his hair as I let him devour me. His tongue runs along the line of it peeking above the blouse before he nuzzles the warm skin there with his nose.
“You taste f*cking sweeter than I imagined you would, Princess,” he groans.
Those words alone make me instinctively rock my hips against his. Soon, I can feel his arousal pressing against my lower body. I have never felt anything like this before. Raghav hasn’t even touched me beyond my upper body, and somehow, I’m already on the verge of losing every ounce of restraint I have left.
But just then, a sharp ring of his phone cuts through the haze surrounding us. We pause,staring at each other, breathless and surprised by how easily we had lost ourselves in the moment. Still, there’s no regret. Not in his eyes. Not in mine either.
I’m not someone who hides behind false innocence or runs away from her own desires. I’m a mafia princess, and I own my choices. If my body responds to my husband despite everything that brought us together, then I own that too. But the spell has been broken now. The moment is gone.
The phone continues to ring. Raghav holds my gaze for a long second before finally pulling away. If that phone hadn’t rung, God alone knows what would have happened tonight. And judging by the look in his eyes, he still isn’t done with me. He will come back for more. And maybe… I would let him too.
When the phone rings again, he mutters a curse under his breath and glances at the phone lying on the bed.It’s Haider. Raghav strides over, picks up the call, and walks out onto the balcony. The moment he’s gone, I finally gather the loose folds of my saree, clutch them to myself, and hurry into the bathroom before losing whatever little sense I have left.
****************
Next Morning
Once again, when I woke up this morning, Raghav wasn’t in bed. Last night, after he got busy on the call, I changed, showered, and slipped into bed, hoping to fall asleep before he was done. And thankfully, I did. I didn’t even realise when I dozed off. Maybe the exhaustion of the day had finally taken its toll on me.
Now, I’m in the kitchen with Kailash Uncle. He refused to let me help more than once, insisting that I should rest. But I genuinely want to do this. So despite his protests, I’m standing beside him, helping him prepare breakfast for everyone.
I’m focusing on the toast in front of me when Raghav walks into the kitchen. My breath catches on seeing him in a sleeveless black vest and black sweatpants, fresh from his workout. A small face towel hangs around his neck, his hair is messy and slightly damp, and a sheen of sweat glistens over his skin.
My gaze drifts to his biceps, and I nearly stop breathing.
And are those my nail marks?
