Aira:

The cold night air hit me like a slap when we finally climbed out of the pool. My drenched clothes clung to me, heavy and suffocating, as water dripped from my hair in rivulets. Arsh offered his hand to help me up, but I swatted it away, my pride refusing to allow any semblance of weakness in front of him. He didn't seem fazed. Of course, he didn't. The arrogant smirk on his face made it clear he was enjoying every second of my humiliation.

"Let's go," he said curtly, already walking ahead, his wet shoes squelching against the pavement.

I couldn't move ahead a step, my heel strap opened on it's own just as I stepped out of the pool, everything flashing in front of my eyes.

What just happened? My pulse hadn't stopped racing since the moment he kissed me, since the moment I kissed him back. My body betrayed me in every way tonight, and now, with his stepping away from my personal space, reality was rushing back like a tidal wave.

He paused probably not feeling me behind him as he turned to look at me with eyes raised in question.

I moved my eyes down unable to meet his eyes, his gaze followed mine and without another word, he stepped towards me as I took a step back unconsciously.

He tsked, his steps rushed as he reached me in two large strides and before I could take another step back, he grabbed my arm pulling me towards him as I met his eyes, my heart beat pausing it's own rhythm like they hated having to beat.

I opened my mouth to say something, anything but nothing came out as he suddenly went down on his knees and without saying anything fixed the strap of my heels.

I scrunched my nose at his actions afraid he is pulling this stunt and pretending jsut so he can make me fall, it's so easy all he has to do is grab my leg and pull it a little om his side and I will lose my balance and fall on my back.

But despite my intrusive thoughts, all he did was fix my strap and once done, he got up giving me a look to come along before he turned an took another step.

I sighed, not knowing how to feel as I kneeled down and opened the straps of my heels, taking them off and picking them in my hands, finally feeling a little better cause my legs were done for the day.

Not wanting him to notice my absence again, I followed him, my bare feet slapping against the cold ground as anger and disbelief warred inside me, my gaze fixed on his back.

This was Arsh Oberoi - the man who had made my life a living hell, the man I was supposed to hate. And yet, here I was, soaked to the bone, my lips tingling with the ghost of his kiss.

My thoughts swirled in a relentless loop, his presence ahead of me like a magnetic force I couldn't escape. I wasn't even looking where I was going anymore, my eyes fixed blankly on the ground as I replayed every moment from the pool, every word he had said, every touch that had burned through me.

My lips pressed together tightly as I tried to shove the memory of his mouth on mine into the farthest corner of my mind. Yet, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't ignore the way his touch lingered or how my body had betrayed me.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't notice him stop. The moment my face collided with the firm expanse of his back, a startled gasp escaped me.

"Watch it," he muttered, turning slightly, but his eyes dropped almost instantly, catching sight of my bare feet.

His gaze flicked to the heels dangling in my hand, his expression unreadable as his jaw tightened. Before I could say a word, before I could even think about stepping back, his hands moved.

In one swift motion, he ducked slightly and scooped me up into his arms.

"Arsh!" I yelped, instinctively clutching his shirt as the world tilted. My shoes tumbled from my hands, but he caught them easily, effortlessly holding them in his other hand.

"What are you doing?" I hissed, squirming in his hold. "Put me down!"

He ignored me, his face set in that maddeningly calm, resolute expression I had come to know all too well.

"I can walk," I insisted, kicking my legs in protest, but he barely flinched. His grip was firm but not harsh, and his steps were steady as he carried me across the driveway.

"You are barefoot," he said flatly, his tone making it sound like the most obvious thing in the world.

"Thanks Genius, but I know I am barefoot." I snapped, glaring up at him. "That's why I took my heels off. I don't need you to..."

"Shut up, Aira," he interrupted smoothly, his voice low and commanding.

I opened my mouth to argue again, but the look in his eyes stopped me cold. It wasn't just the sharpness of his tone or the way his gaze bore into mine. It was something deeper, something unreadable that made my heart lurch and my breath hitch.

"Keep struggling," he said, his voice dropping an octave. "And I will carry you all the way back to the hall where everyone is present instead of the car."

My cheeks flamed, and I immediately stopped moving, though my glare didn't waver. "You are impossible."

His lips twitched, the faintest hint of amusement breaking through his stoic facade. "And you are stubborn. We are even."

I bit back a retort, opting instead to look away, my teeth sinking into my lower lip.

When we reached his sleek black car, he finally put me down and opened the passenger side door and turned to me with a pointed look, his brow arched in that infuriatingly condescending way.

"Get in," he ordered his tone clipped as he kept my heels below the seat.

But the last thing I wanted was to sit beside him, trapped in that small space with my chaotic thoughts and his smug presence. Without a word, I stepped away from him and climbed into the back seat, slamming the door behind me.

He stood there for a moment, his jaw tightening as he stared at me through the window. Then, with measured steps, he rounded the car and slid into the driver's seat.

"You are not a child," he said sharply, glancing at me in the rearview mirror. "Sit in the front."

"I am fine here," I replied, crossing my arms and leaning back against the cold leather.

His grip tightened on the steering wheel, the veins in his hand visible even in the dim light. "I am not your damn driver, Aira. Get in the front."

I shot him a glare. "Then think of this as a promotion. Congratulations on being chauffeur and psychotic tormentor rolled into one."

"You forgot the huaband part, I see." He said, his lips quirked in a smirk, his eyes fixed on me through the mirror.

My head snapped toward him, my cheeks burning. "I hate you too much to consider you my husband." I shot back, my voice trembling with indignation.

His laugh was low and humorless. He turned slightly in his seat, his gaze pinning me down. "That hatred wasn't so visible when you were clawing at me in the pool, sweetheart."

My breath hitched, heat rushing to my face as his words cut through the tension like a blade. "You are delusional," I snapped, even though my voice wavered.

He leaned back casually, the smirk on his face infuriatingly calm. "Oh, I am delusional?" His eyes met mine in the mirror. "Then tell me, Aira - was it my imagination, or did you kiss me back? Twice."

I swallowed hard, my throat dry despite the water dripping from my hair. "You pushed me into the pool. Twice."

"And you didn't exactly resist the second time, did you?" His voice softened, growing more dangerous. "Admit it, Aira. You liked my lips on you more than you hate me."

I clenched my fists, trying to keep my composure, but my silence betrayed me. Instead of responding, I turned my gaze out the window, focusing on the blurry lights of the city as he started the car.

"Coward," he muttered under his breath, but thankfully, he didn't push further.

The drive was tense, the silence between us thick with unspoken words. My heart was still racing, though I told myself it was from the cold and not the memory of his lips on mine.

Halfway through the drive, his phone buzzed, shattering the quiet. He answered without hesitation, his tone brisk and authoritative.

"Speak," he commanded.

Even without looking, I knew it was soemone from his inner circle. Probably Vyom. The way he shifted into his role - powerful, untouchable, and terrifyingly calm - made my skin prickle.

The person on the other side said something which wasn't to his liking, I could tell by the clench of his jaw.

"Handle it," Arsh said, his voice sharp. "And if she tried to cross us, you know what to do."

She? Cross us? What to do?

There was a pause, then a low chuckle from him. "Good. Keep me updated." He hung up without another word, his focus returning to the road.

The rest of the drive passed in strained silence. My mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, but I refused to let any of them show. Not when I could feel his gaze flicking toward me in the rearview mirror, watching, waiting.

When we finally reached the estate, he pulled into the driveway and killed the engine. For a moment, neither of us moved. The air between us felt heavy, like the calm before a storm.

"If you go in your room, close the damn door and lock it from the inside, I would consider the night over and you can go back to sleep," he said finally, his voice low and measured. "But if you don't and let me in,"

He paused, meeting my eyes as I waited for his next words with bated breath and I swear when he finished my heart lurched out of my chest. "then things are going to take place my way."

I opened the door without responding, stepping out into the night. My legs felt shaky, but I kept my head high, refusing to let him see just how much his words - and his touch - his choice - had unraveled me.

But as I walked toward the house feeling him follow me, his words echoed in my mind, refusing to be ignored.

The walk to the main doors was excruciatingly slow. Each step felt heavier than the last, the distance between us felt so personal, even though I could feel his presence a few steps behind me. The cool night air did little to calm the storm raging in my chest, and the soft sound of his measured footsteps was a constant reminder that I was not alone.

I went to the stairs and finally reached the east wing, and made my way toward our room.

When I finally reached the room, I stepped inside, gripping the edge of the door as I turned to face him. He stopped a few steps away, just outside, his tall frame shadowed by the dim hallway light.

Our eyes locked. His gaze was sharp, unreadable, and yet it pierced through every defense I had built. His intensity pinned me in place, and for a moment, I forgot how to breathe.

This is it, I thought. This is where it ends. This game, this... whatever this is, has to stop.

I had to lock the door, to end this madness before it consumed me entirely. My fingers tightened around the doorknob, and I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. His eyes didn't waver, watching me with a quiet command that made my resolve falter.

Close it. Lock it. End this, I told myself.

But even as I closed the door, pushing it to the wall to create a barrier between us, my hand hesitated on the lock. My pulse thundered in my ears as I stared at the latch, my body refusing to obey the logical part of my brain screaming at me to turn it.

Instead, I stepped back, leaving the door closed but unlocked, a crack in my armor I couldn't quite seal.

As soon as I moved behind, the door flew open, crashing against the wall with enough force to make me jump.

Arsh stepped inside without hesitation, his dark eyes blazing as they found mine.

"You didn't close the door." His voice was low, dangerous, and it sent a shiver down my spine.

I stumbled back instinctively, but he didn't move closer - yet. His presence filled the room, overpowering, suffocating, and yet I couldn't look away.

"I closed the door." I asked, my voice steadier than I felt.

"You didn't lock the door." he said, his jaw clenching slightly, taking a single step forward. "You didn't lock me out."

"I was going to," I countered, even as my voice betrayed me.

He smirked, tilting his head as he studied me, his gaze trailing over my face like he could see straight through me. "Is that what you are telling yourself to sleep at night?"

"I don't need to tell myself anything about you to be able to sleep at night." I snapped, retreating another step, only for my back to hit the edge of the bed.

"Sleeping is the last thing there will be tonight little wolf." he said, his smirk fading as his expression turned serious.

My chest tightened at his words, every nerve in my body screaming at me to deny it, to fight back, to do something.

"You are wrong," I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Am I?" he challenged, his tone softer now, almost coaxing.

The silence between us stretched thin, electric, and I hated how easily he got under my skin, how effortlessly he unraveled me with just a look, a word, a step closer.

"I hate you," I repeated myself from earlier, more to convince myself than him.

His lips curved into a dangerous smile. "You should."

I opened my mouth to respond, but nothing came out. His words hung in the air between us, heavy with a truth we both knew.

He took another step closer, closing the distance between us until he was just inches away. His hand reached out, brushing against mine as he leaned down slightly, his voice a low murmur that sent a shiver down my spine.

"Say the word, Aira," he said, his eyes locked on mine. "Tell me to leave, and I will. Do it, prove to me that you don't want this and I will go."

I look away unable to look at my own reflection through his eyes.

"Look at me." His angry command coming out in a growl had my body react to it on it's own as I stared up at him, my heart pounding in my chest as every emotion I had been trying to suppress came rushing to the surface. Anger, frustration, desire, confusion - it all tangled together, leaving me breathless.

But I couldn't say it. I couldn't tell him to leave, even though I knew I should.

Because he was right.

And that terrified me more than anything else.

He finally takes the last step forward, stepping into my personal space, breathing the same air I was as his hand curves around my neck, tangling in my hair, tilting my face to his. "Have you ever been kissed before?"

My heart skips a beat and I wonder what he would do if I said yes. The look in his eyes scares me. Everything that I was doing right now, in my own senses terrifies me so much already and yet I couldn't find it in myself to step away from him, run as far as I should.

I am tempted to lie and say I have, to see what he would do, because this is all already fucked up and so I do.

"Yes," I whisper.

His jaw clenches so hard that I fear it might break from the force as he tightens his grip on my hair, yanking them back to make me look at him.

He leans down, moving closed to my face, his lips barely an inch away from me. "And did you like it?" His question is so sudden in a hoarse and deep voice and I find myself whispering a yes almost instantly despite it being a lie.

His eyes darken and his mouth comes down on mine, hard and fast. Angry and Demanding.

He tugs on my lower lip with his teeth and plunges his tongue into my mouth as I find myself unable to hold back from responding to the kiss for the third time even though it felt like I was being eaten alive and it satiated me.

The world around us blurred into nothingness as he consumed me, his lips moving against mine with a ferocity that left me breathless. His grip on my hair tightened further, pulling me closer as if the space between us was intolerable. Every touch of his hands was possessive, claiming, leaving no room for doubt about who I belonged to in this moment.

A whimper escaped my lips no matter how much I tried to keep that to myself, and he groaned in response, the sound vibrating through my entire body. His fingers slid down, skimming over my waist before gripping my hips with enough force to make me gasp while his lips devoured me like he was starving. He pressed me against him until I felt his rock - hard erection against my stomach.

"You think you can lie to me?" he growled against my mouth, his voice rough, sharp, and unforgiving. "Think again, Aira. I see right through you. Beneath all that defiance, you are nothing but a desperate little whore for the person you swore to hate."

My breath hitched at his words, the humiliation washing over me in waves, but I couldn't deny the way my body responded. My hands pushed against his chest weakly, a futile attempt to regain some semblance of control, but he didn't budge. Instead, his eyes burned into mine, dark and mocking as he tilted his head, a cruel smile tugging at his lips.

"Don't pretend you are not craving every second of this," he sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. "You would spread your legs for me in a heartbeat, wouldn't you? Say it. Admit it."

My lips parted, but no sound came out. The heat of him burned through the fabric of my dress, and I hated the way my body betrayed me, melting into his touch even as his words tore me apart.

"Pathetic," he spat, his hand sliding down to grip my thigh roughly. "You think wearing this pretty little dress will hide what you are? You think I can't see how badly you want me to ruin you?"

My cheeks burned, the sting of his words cutting deeper than I wanted to admit. I hate him and I hated myself even more for wanting him like this, for not able to control my own body but I would have enough time left for that the 24 hours of the day I am left alone behind these walls.

"Tell me to stop," he suddenly demande, his voice a low growl as he met my gaze. His eyes were molten, daring me, challenging me.

But I couldn't.

I stayed silent, trembling under the intensity of his stare. "You seem desperate Mr. Oberoi." I found myself whispering to him in a cold voice.

He cursed under his breath, a dark, guttural sound that sent shivers racing down my spine.

"Keep that fucking attitude in check," he muttered, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he suddenly grabbed my shoulder and spun me around, pushing me against the wall making me yelp as he twists my arms around my back, his other hand tangled between my hairs, tugging at them harshly.

"I will give you what you want, Aira," he said, his voice low and venomous as his lips brushed against my ear. "I will fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk. But don't think for a second it means anything. You will still be nothing to me - just another desperate whore begging for scraps."

I bit down on my lip, the shame and desire twisting together in a way that left me breathless. His hand moved to my neck, his fingers curling around my throat as his thumb tilted my chin upward, forcing me to meet his gaze.

His words were a dagger, sharp and merciless, but the way his hand gripped me, the way his lips trailed fire down my neck, left me too dazed to care.

"You will hate yourself for this later," he muttered, his teeth grazing the sensitive spot beneath my ear. "But not as much as I will still hate you."

"It's a gorgeous dress," he whispered in my ear, his voice laced with mockery as his fingers brushed the hem of my dress, a deliberate, taunting gesture that made my breath hitch. "A shame it's on you."

I stiffened, his words slicing through me like a blade. Heat flared in my cheeks, but I refused to look away, meeting his eyes with all the defiance I could muster.

"Then maybe you shouldn't look," I snapped, my voice trembling despite my effort to sound strong.

He chuckled, low and cruel, as he moved his hands away from and stepped away making me almost whimper at the loss of his touch as I found myself turning to face him.

"Oh, I will look," he said, his lips curling into a dangerous smile. "But I think I would prefer to see what's underneath."

"Strip." He commanded, his voice rough and cold.

My pulse thundered in my ears as his words hit me, a confusing mix of humiliation and desire coursing through me.

His eyes locked on mine, dark and unforgiving, daring me to disobey.

I have done it before.

My face burned with humiliation, the memory of that night flashing in my mind. Nothing had happened between us, but his gaze, his presence, had been enough to leave me unraveled. Now, he wielded that memory against me like a weapon.

"I..." I started, but the words died in my throat.

"You know what you hate more than me?" He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a venomous whisper. "You hate how much you crave it, how much you crave me."

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my chest as his words cut through my defenses, leaving me bare and exposed even though I had the dress on.

It was a game I was willing to play.

My hands trembled as they moved to the hem of my dress, the weight of his gaze scorching every inch of me. He leaned back slightly, arms crossed, as if daring me to prove him wrong.

Anger and shame warred inside me, but the look in his eyes left me powerless. Slowly, I let the dress slip off my legs, the fabric slipping from my skin as it pooled at my feet.

He let out a low chuckle, his eyes raking over me with undisguised hunger. "I want it all off Aira," he said, his tone mocking.

My fingers hesitated at the straps of my innerwear, every nerve in my body screaming at me to stop, to lash out at him, to cry, to scream or both, But I couldn't. The invisible chains he wrapped around me tightened with every breath, with every look he cast my way.

I hated myself more for the way my hands trembled as they obeyed. Slowly, I slid the straps down my shoulders, the fabric falling away as I stood exposed before him.

Before I could react, he pushed me back against the mattress with a force that stole the breath from my lungs. His hands gripped my thighs tightly, spreading them without hesitation, his touch commanding and unapologetic.

"You hate me, right?" he sneered, his voice a harsh whisper as he loomed over me, his weight pressing me into the bed. "Then show me. Fight me, tell me to stop. Or is this exactly what you want?"

I glared up at him, my hands instinctively coming up to shove at his chest, but he didn't budge. His strength was unrelenting, his dominance absolute, and the more I pushed, the more his smirk deepened, as if my resistance only fueled him.

"You make me laugh," he growled, his hands sliding up to grip the hem of my dress. "You act so touch, so unbreakable, but look at you now - under me, trembling. Vulnerable."

My breath hitched, and I bit down on my lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response.

"Oh, don't go quiet on me now," he mocked, his fingers trailing roughly along my thigh. "Where is all that fire, Aira? Or does being pinned down shut you up?"

I turned my head away, heat flooding my face as his words cut through me. His hand shot out, gripping my jaw and forcing me to look at him.

"Don't you dare look away from me," he commanded, his tone harsh. "You want this, don't you? Then look me in the eyes while I remind you exactly who you belong to."

My chest heaved with ragged breaths as his fingers dug into my skin, his grip possessive and punishing. I hated him, hated the smug look on his face, hated how easily he unraveled me. But most of all, I hated how my body betrayed me, responding to his touch despite every ounce of defiance in me.

A whimpering sigh escapes me but it quickly turns into a moan when he suddenly slips his fingers and glides it against my folds.

My heart nearly jumps in my throat as I find myself whispering again and his eyes are looking straight into mine.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

"You are already dripping wet for me little wolf, such a shame." His words throttle the fuck out of me and then he shoves a finger inside me making me reel from the pressure as it mounts and mounts until I am unable to breathe.

I bite the inside of my cheeks to keep my voice to myself.

The stimulation from earlier rushes to the surface as I roll my eyes and his fingers pump deep inside me at a quickening pace.

His thumb teases my clit with staggering expertise. I may have used a few toys before, but none of them compare to the wild intensity that's shaking my insides right fucking now.

Pleasure bursts through me all at once and I have no hope to last and yet I try my best to keep my voice to myself refusing to let him see my crumbling pride over and again.

He strokes my clit in soft, teasing circles with his thumb as he insterts another finger into me. "We both know you can be louder little wolf."

I bite on my lips harder, "I love the way you look taking my fingers like a good girl, little wolf." He pinches my clit, his fingers going faster.

"Oh fuck," I groan at the acute pleasure and his taunting words.

Neither was I a good girl not little wolf but he can fucking call me whatever he wants as long as he doesn't stops.

My legs shake as he adds another finger and my toes freaking curl, a moan leaving my lips and this time I don't stop making noises that even I don't recognize. His fingers are relentless as they pump, stretch, and fill me over and over again.

My breath speeds up, my pussy tightens, and my eyes squeeze shut. Right when I am on the edge, he fucking stops.

"Please," I fucking whimper, my eyes closed shut from the shame I could feel all over my skin.

Was I begging?

What the fuck?

"Little wolf," he breathes. "Open your eyes."

I don't listen. In fact, I squeeze my eyes even tighter.

"Do you want to come?" he asks me. I nod my head weakly. "Then you will open your eyes and look at me." His voice sounds like a sirens and I seem to follow like a hypnotized prick.

My eyes snap open, meeting his striking black ones in a moment.

"Keep looking at me," he commands and I don't deny.

His fingers move with devastating precision, teasing and tormenting me, pushing me closer to the edge. My breath stutters, my entire body trembling, coiling tighter and tighter, trembling on the edge of release as his gaze holds me captive, unrelenting and devastatingly intense.

I scream in a haze, so unlike me as my orgasm ignites, and flame bursts behind my eyes and burns my skin, threatening to swallow me whole in it's explosion.

He keeps his eyes on me and moves his fingers to his mouth, licking them off as he says his next words, "You think the hatred toned down or something?"

"If anything, it grows more by each second." I spit out, my voice sharper than the dagger I would rather plunge into his chest. My breathing is uneven, my skin burning with anger - and something else I refuse to name as he stands in front of me, his tie hung loose, hair tousled, and dark eyes smoldering with a heat that made him look devastatingly untamed.

"However, you can tell me whether you are a manehore or..." I pause, taking in his expression but unfortunately I still am not able to get on his nerves.

"Or do I have a certain charm that you want the person you hate so badly in your bed." I manage to sit through my shaking legs, not able to take that intimidating position anymore longer than I had already.

His lips curve into a maddening smirk, and that infuriating calm washed over him. "You assume I owe you an explanation, princess?" he drawls, standing to his full height, hovering over me, his presence suffocating and magnetic all at once.

"No, you don't. But I also don't owe you the satisfaction of standing here while you waste my breath," I shot back, chin held high. "If you think you can look down on me because you just made me come, I am so sorry your highness but you were just as desperate for me."

For a moment, his expression flickered, a subtle crack in the mask he always wore. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared. "You are still so predictable. Trying to blame me when you can't resist me."

"Predictable?" I repeated with a sharp laugh. "You kissed me, not once but three times."

He tilts his head, studying me like I am a puzzle he has already solved. "I don't justify my actions to anyone," he says, his voice low and razor-sharp. "Least of all to you."

"And you kissed me back little wolf." he warned, his eyes dark, cold and calculating.

It made my blood run cold. No matter how much I denied it that I let things come this far because I wanted to humiliate him. It was all me.

He didn't force me or anything, I reciprocated his advance because I wanted to fucking strangle that posh arrogant and untouchable persona of his.

And now was the time.

I got up and stepped closer, my eyes on his trousers and his rock hard erection as I narrowed the space between us. "Leave."

For a second I almost thought he looked surprised, surprised like when you are amused and probably confused. His dark eyes bore into mine, the fire behind them restrained but undeniably there. Yet, he didn't move, didn't speak.

I let the silence stretch, then took a deep breath and repeated my word in a hostile tone even though my insides were shaking and the reason were his fingers deep inside me a few moments ago. "Jao Arsh,"

His jaw tightened. For a split second, I thought he might fight it, taunt, or throw one of his biting remarks my way. But then he surprised me.

Without a word, he straightened, his smirk fading into something unreadable as he fixed his loose tie, trying to make his shirt look even a bit better. "As you wish."

He turned on his heel and walked out of the room without uttering a single word and on his way out he even closed the room.

I blinked, stunned. He had actually left. No taunts, no protests, nothing. I took my chances because I kind of knew that he will leave if I tell him to, no matter in what condition.

He is a monster but he won't fuckung force himself on me.

I didn't know whether to feel victorious or unnerved.

Everything felt so weird without his touch, and despite myself, I stared at my closed door wondering if he will come back and make me pay for the boner he seemed to have gotten because of me.

Oh fucking God, Aira you better get that out of your head.

You let his fingers get into your pants because you wanted to humiliate him. So here goes nothing, now don't even step into his air.

Hours later and I find myself lying on my bed, staring up at the ceilings with no way to sleep, my breath still uneven, the ghost of his touch lingering on my skin.

My body was fucking betraying me, the ache pulling me in two opposite directions. One part of me wanted to claw at the walls for more - more of that tension, more of his rough dominance, more of him. The other part of me, the part that still held on to my sanity and hatred, was appalled.

What the hell was wrong with me?

I clenched my fists, nails biting into my palms, hoping the sharp sting would ground me. It didn't. The memory of his fingers - skilled, determined, unapologetic - burned beneath my skin, making me shiver despite the warmth of the room.

This was supposed to be a victory. A humiliation for him. A way to remind him that, no matter how much control over me he thought he had, I could take it away just as easily. But now, standing here, the aftermath didn't feel victorious at all. It felt... wrong.

I hated him. I hated the way he looked at me like I was his possession. I hated the way he claimed me without hesitation, as if the very air I breathed belonged to him. And yet, my body - damn my traitorous body - seemed to crave that possessiveness, the way his touch made me feel alive in a way I hadn't in my whole existence.

This isn't who I am. He is brining out the worst of me. First I shot him, then I stopped as low as using Tara and Rishaan for my means and now this whole stunt.

Shame bubbled up inside me, sharp and bitter. What kind of person uses their enemy this way? What kind of person lets their enemy take so much and still wants more?

My hand brushed against my lips, as if I could wipe away the memory of him. "You are disgusting, Aira," I muttered to myself, gritting my teeth, trying to shake the tension coiling in my stomach.

Letting out a frustrated growl, I grabbed a pillow and screamed into it. My heart was pounding, my mind racing. Would he come back?

Is he thinking about what happened as well?

I squeezed my eyes shut. I had to stop thinking about him. This was just a game - a power play. He had forced me into this marriage, and I would find a way to survive it, even if it meant playing dirty.

But then, why did it feel like I was the one losing, this game as well as myself.

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