Page 92 of Entangled Vows
“I had a huge crush on you for years,” she admitted, her voice breaking. Then, a steely glint entered her eyes, and her expression hardened. “And then it turned into anger,” she spat. “Because I saw you fucking that bimbo girlfriend of yours on my eighteenth birthday.”
He blinked in confusion. “What?”
“I was going to confess about my feelings that night...” Her voice cracked. “Instead, you brought that… that absolute tramp of a girlfriend to my party, and then had the audacity to fuck her in my backyard. I saw you with my own eyes, lost in the throes of passion, and all I could think of was yanking her away from you and throwing her off a cliff. And then… I wanted to punch you, just for thinking about anyone else but me.”
Her breathing came in ragged gasps, as she finally unleashed all the pent-up anger she had been holding in. And before she knew it, hot tears streamed down her cheeks.
Vikram moved closer, totally stunned.
He said softly, “Hey, hey... baby dragon, no tears now.”
His voice was full of tenderness as he leaned in and brushed his mouth gently against her cheek, licking away the tears she couldn’t hide. She gasped at the contact, her eyes going wide. She shoved at his chest, but he caught her wrist gently and held her in place.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, voice thick. “I swear I didn’t know. If I had known what you felt, if I had even guessed… I would have never touched anyone else.”
“I don’t believe you.” Her fingers curled around his wrist, her anger flickering under the intensity of his gaze.
“Jealousy looks good on you, Momo.” Vikram kissed her forehead and pressed butterfly kisses down her cheek to her neck. “So, you always had a thing for me, huh?” he asked again, quieter now, his eyes still locked on hers.
She nodded, staring into his eyes boldly. “Yes. It was so not Suraj. It was only you.”
His lips tilted into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “That’s going to be a problem.”
“Why?”
He stepped closer, his voice a velvety whisper. “Because now that I know, I’m going to make damn sure it never goes away. I will ruin you for anyone else. No one else gets to have you. Not even a fucking glance.”
He claimed her lips in a rough kiss. His kiss was hard and fast—possessive, almost punishing, and yet promising. It was anything but gentle. It was pure, unadulterated hunger. Years of restraint finally snapped, like a taut string is suddenly clipped. She gasped, but he only pulled her tighter. His one hand slid to her waist, dragging her flush against him, while the other tangled in her hair, locking her in place as he devoured her mouth.
The cold, hard door pressed into her back. Her knees buckled, and her hands grabbed his jacket, wrinkling the fabric as she melted into him. His grip on her hip tightened, and she could feel his heart pounding against her. Mahika gasped, her fingers threading through his hair. A soft moan escaped her lips as he pulled away and trailed kisses down her throat.
“Tell me you want this,” Vikram rasped against her collarbone. His breath was hot, his lips grazing her skin like a prayer laced with sin.
“Yes,” she whimpered.
She pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. He looked unhinged, and she fucking loved it. She didn’t use words; instead, she reached for the lapels of his jacket, her fingers working with shaky urgency as she pushed it off his shoulders. He shrugged out of it without breaking eye contact, letting it fallto the floor. Then her fingers went to the buttons of his shirt, fumbling slightly, but determined nevertheless. One by one, she undid them, revealing hot, golden skin and hard, sculpted lines underneath.
Vikram let out a low exhale, watching her every move like a predator holding himself back from pouncing. When the last button was undone, he peeled the shirt off in one smooth motion and flung it across the room. She ran her palms over his broad chest, which burned beneath her touch. Her nails grazed the ridges of his abdomen, and he shuddered, his muscles tightening under her caress.
“Mahika…” he warned, the sound half-growl as he held off her hands and stopped her.
His hands found the zipper at the side of her dress, and he paused. His eyes searched hers, as if asking for permission. She gave a tiny nod, and that was all he needed. Slowly, he tugged the zipper down. The soft fabric peeled away from her skin, slipping from her shoulders, down her torso, and pooling at her feet.
Vikram stepped back a fraction, just enough to look at her.
And what he saw knocked the breath out of him.
She stood before him in a strapless push-up bra, the cups dipping low enough to make his vision blur. It was paired with a lace thong that wrapped her hips like it was made to tempt him. The sinful shade of purple against her flushed skin… the way her hair spilled over her shoulders in soft waves… the dazed fire in her eyes… Holy Fuck. Vikram swore under his breath.
“You’re so damn beautiful.”
His voice came out hoarse, almost reverent, but his eyes… they burned darker, wild with hunger. Then, with a low growl, he stepped in and lifted her effortlessly, his handsgripping her waist as he pressed her back against the wall. Her body moulded to his, soft curves colliding with hard muscle, her chest rising against his as the air thickened between them.
She let out a breathless gasp, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, drawing him closer. The heat of her core brushed against the hard, unmistakable evidence of his arousal, and her body reacted before her mind could catch up, sending a jolt of raw sensation through her. His hand slid up and cupped her jaw, tilting her face so she couldn’t look anywhere else but into his eyes. They blazed with possession, with a desire so fierce it made her skin flush and her breath come faster.
“Can you feel the effect you have on me?” he murmured, his voice a dark mix of gravel and silk. “Because I’ve never fucking wanted anyone the way I want you right now.”
His tongue trailed down her neck to the frantic pulse at her throat, then dipped across the swell of her breasts. She moaned, wild and undone.
