Page 91 of Entangled Vows
Stepping outside, the frigid night air hit her like an electric jolt. Max was already there, holding the car door open for them. As they sat inside, the silence grew between them, taut with unspoken tension. It was electric, thick with things they had never voiced, and heavy with truths they were not sure they were ready to admit.
Mahika stared out the window, the dazzling city lights blurring into streaks of gold and crimson. She could feel Vikram’s intense gaze burning into her skin. It wasn’t just a look; it was a slow, gentle caress, melting away her shyness, layer by layer.
When the car pulled into the estate, Vikram stepped out first and walked around to her side. He opened the door and extended a rough, calloused hand. Mahika hesitated for a heartbeat, her fingertips barely brushing his, before finally placing her hand in his. His grip was firm and confident, making her shiver with a strange mix of fear and excitement. The warmth of his palm grounded her, branding her with a gentle heat.
Mahika looked up at him, unsure if the rush in her veins came from the crisp night air or the intriguing man before her. As always, his face was an impassive mask, but his thumb traced the faintest of patterns on her knuckles, as if committing her to memory.
“Come,” he said, in a low, confident voice. It wasn’t a request. It never was with him.
She followed him, her heels clicking quietly on the stone path as they walked into the house. With every step, her awareness of him intensified. By the time they reached the main door, her breath was shallow, and she wasn’t sure if it was anticipation or warning that coiled in her stomach.
Inside the house, a thick and charged silence greeted them, pressing in from all sides. They climbed the stairs, his hand holding hers with a firm grip. There was urgency in his touch, urgency in his steps, like the restraint between them had finally snapped.
Vikram turned the knob and pushed the bedroom door open. Warm golden light spilled from the bedside lamps, casting slow-moving shadows along the walls.
Mahika stepped in, her pulse drumming a little too loud, her senses already heightened. The door shut with a click behind them.
She turned around, and there he was… watching her, his eyes boring into her very soul, seeing past every carefully constructed façade. The sexual tension between them made her breath catch. Everything they had been dancing around crashed into silence as their eyes locked.
Neither of them needed words. They both knew exactly where this was going. And neither of them was planning to stop it.
31
Vikram moved in, slow but sure, his looming presence consuming every corner of the space between them. His gaze never wavered, his silence saying more than words ever could. She stayed just as quiet, caught in the spell of the moment.
He reached for her, his touch light but firm, and turned her gently until her back met the cool, hard wood of the door. Then he stepped in, closing the space between them, invading her personal bubble. One hand came to rest flat against the door beside her head, while the other lifted to her face, his fingers grazing her cheek with a touch that was impossibly tender. His palm settled on her waist with quiet possession, as if he had every right to hold her like that.
His touch seared her skin, she arched instinctively, drawn by his warmth. In that moment, he was all that mattered. The silence between them throbbed, their breaths tangling in the charged space. She lifted her chin to meet his eyes.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she whispered.
Vikram’s mouth curved into a slow, knowing smirk. “Because I’ve pictured you like this for years. And now you’re finally mine.”
The gravity of that confession hit her like a blow.
“Don’t,” she breathed out. “You hated me.”
His voice dropped, calm but cutting. “I never hated you.Youhated me. What I hated… was the way you looked at my brother. I hated that you gave him what I wanted for myself.”
Her throat constricted. “Vikram…”
“Momo,” he said her name like a vow.
She hesitated. Her heart hammered, and she could no longer hold on to the truth.
“I never hated you,” she said. “I just hated how convinced you were that I liked Suraj. You were too blind to see what was right in front of you.”
“And what was I supposed to see?”
Her lips parted, the words tumbling out. “That all this time… it wasn’t him.”
His jaw tensed. “Then who the fuck was it?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous. “Tell me, and I will erase every trace of him from your mind, body, and soul.”
She didn’t blink. “It was always you.”
Vikram froze. Tension rippled through him like a wire pulled tight.
“What the fuck are you saying?”
