Page 124 of Carnal Games

After what almost happened between us, I know he’ll do everything in his power to create space despite us living under the same roof. Even within touching distance, he’s a pro at ignoring me. I experienced it in the first week at work.

No way I’m going through it again.

Even if I have to play dirty.

One by one, I remove last night’s clothes and place them in the hamper in the corner until I’m naked. I’m not repulsed bymy reflection as I chance a glance in the mirror. Not after feeling beautiful under Kian’s lustful gaze. As brief as it was.

In those few seconds, held suspended by his possessive grip, I felt his thickness graze between my legs.

More than the physical proof of his desire for me, it was his words that erased my embarrassment.

“They don’t make you any less beautiful.”

I wish I could tell him that he’s the first man to call me beautiful in a very long time. There’s so much more I want to confess to him, but I’m bound by promises I cannot break.

The day I do, I pray he chooses me despite my flaws. Because professing all the sins I’ve committed in becoming his is the only way he can truly be mine. I won’t start our life with secrets and skeletons hanging in my closet.

It’s what ruined the relationship of the girl in the diary.

Our stories aren’t the same, yet there are parts where I see myself as a villain. A manipulator like Rakesh. I coerced my way into Kian’s life, weaved a web of lies to the people who trust me, all in my quest to make Kian fall in love with me.

Does this mean I’m a bad guy too?

Love.

That’s the difference.

Unlike Kian and Nathan’s father, I’m not playing with someone’s heart, where I dump them after I’m bored with sleeping with them. I’m in it for keeps. It’s not a mere crush. An infatuation I’m harboring toward Kian.

It’s more than that.

A deeper connection. Raw. Cosmic.

No way will our story end fatally.

A knock sounds on my door, followed by Kian’s deep timbre. “Iris?”

I smile. He’s not calling me Miss Mannan anymore. However, even sweeter than my name is the endearment ‘littlerainbow’ he calls me. When he said it on the couch, my mind stirred with the vague memory of him whispering it last night too.

Like a part of him knew I’ve never had a nickname in my life by a lover or a boyfriend. I’ve always been plain old Iris. So being Kian’s little rainbow, without knowing the reason behind it, made me feel special.

It tells me that I mean something to him.

I ache to hear him say it again.

In my excitement, I almost run naked to the door when it hits me. I screech to a halt, almost slipping in my haste, and gasp, “Shit! Ouch!”

“You all right in there?” His tone becomes sharp and alert.

Snatching the towel from the rack, I wrap it around my body. It’s long, making the hem reach almost to my knees. I unlock the door. “Sorry, I—”

My breath whooshes out of my lungs as I collide into a muscular torso. The painful tremor on my injured ribs from the impact doesn’t register as steely eyes bore into mine after I tilt my head.

I swallow, watching them harden as Kian clutches my biceps.

My fingers tighten around the knot between my breasts. My nipples hardening into tight beads at having his large hands on mine. The cottony soft towel is the only barrier keeping him from becoming the first man to see me naked.

A tug from his fingers and it’ll come undone like a waterfall. I won’t even protest or stop him. As if he knows it too, a muscle flexes in his stubbled jaw.

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