#2 IN HIS SERIES
𝐕𝐢𝐤𝐫𝐚𝐦 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐡 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐞
The elder son of the Rathore family and the future King of Rajasthan, he was cold, arrogant, and short-tempered. He wasn't ready for any commitments until he found his lost sister, but then she...
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I never knew I could feel this horny for any man, not just any man but my husband. Feeling his hands holding my bare waist sends a tingling sensation that reaches directly to a place between my legs. Does this happen to all married women when they feel their husband's touch, or is it just me wanting nothing but his lips on mine at this moment?
I thought it was all just one-sided: the love, the respect, the desire, and all the other emotions I felt for him would never be reciprocated. But as I looked into his black onyx eyes, I realized his intensity surpassed mine. I've always hated darkness; it feared me more than anything else. It reminds me of those days when I had to sleep in the dark and cold room because of the mistakes and troubles caused by Nisha. But the darkness in his eyes, which has consumed me, assures me that I'm completely safe and well-protected within his darkness. His darkness feels like home, and I want nothing more than that. Maybe that's why I couldn't control what I said next.
"Please, kiss me, Ram," I said , my voice sounding like whispers , while drowning in the depth of his eyes, which darkened upon hearing my sentence.
His grip on my waist tightened, not in a painful way, but with enough certainty to make my heart leap in excitement.
" Soch lo, Biwi. Once I claim you as mine, there's no turning back. You are mine and mine alone," he said in his deep voice, drawing his face closer to mine.
( Think it over, Wife )
'Someone should tell him that I'm already his and I can't wait to be claimed by him. I wonder how his lips would taste; would they match the descriptions in books that Kia reads and flexes always? Even if not , I want to taste them, ' I thought to myself.
"Kiss me, Ram," I replied boldly, causing his eyes to widen for a moment before he composed himself. His gaze fell upon my lips, which longed for nothing more than to feel his against them. Nervously, I bit my lip.
His free hand, which had been resting on the wall, came to cup my face. Slowly, so slowly, he released my lip from the grip of my teeth with his thumb, then traced his thumb along my lower lip. Though I was usually calm among my friends, in this moment, I felt desperate - desperate for even the slightest touch from him. But he didn't grant my wish. Instead, he looked at my lips as if they were the sweetest thing in the world. Each passing second felt like agonizing years.
