Page 63 of The Secret Bride
His mouth pressed against my neck, hot and demanding. Not quite a kiss, but something more desperate. More possessive.
"I want my rights," he growled against my skin. "I want what belongs to me."
Then his lips parted, and he kissed my neck with a hunger that made my knees weak. His teeth grazed my skin, not hard enough to hurt but enough to mark. To claim.
Panic and something else, something hot and confusing, flooded through me. I gathered all my strength and shoved hard against his arms.
This time, I managed to break free. I stumbled away from him, my hand coming up to touch my neck where I could still feel the ghost of his lips.
"Stop," I said, my voice shaking. "Just stop."
Armaan stood there, breathing hard, his eyes wild and dark. For a moment, I thought he might come after me again.
But then I straightened my spine and looked him directly in the eyes.
"You have every right on me, Armaan. Every single one. But not like this. Not when you are drunk and angry and not thinking clearly."
Something in my words seemed to reach him through the haze of alcohol and jealousy. The wildness in his eyes dimmed slightly. His shoulders sagged.
He laughed then, but it was a hollow, defeated sound. Without another word, he turned and collapsed onto the bed, still fully dressed.
I stood there for a long moment, my heart still racing, my neck still tingling where he had kissed me. Part of me wanted to go to him. To lie down beside him and let him hold me the way he clearly wanted to.
But another part of me was hurt. Hurt by his accusations. Hurt that he thought I would want anyone else's attention when all I could think about was him.
I walked over to where he lay sprawled across the bed. His eyes were closed, his breathing already deepening toward sleep.
I knelt down on the floor beside the bed, bringing myself to his eye level.
"Armaan, listen to me. I need you to understand something."
His eyes opened, hazy and unfocused.
"You are a liar," he said, his words slurring together. "I saw how you were enjoying yourself with your so called friend. Saw how comfortable you were with him."
The words cut deeper than they should have. He thought I was lying to him. Thought I had feelings for Puneet.
"That is not true," I whispered. "That is not true at all."
But he was not listening anymore. His eyes had closed again, and within seconds, he was unconscious.
I sat there on the floor for a while, just watching him sleep. His face was peaceful now, all the anger and pain smoothed away. He looked younger like this. Vulnerable.
Finally, I stood up and began taking care of him. I unlaced his shoes and pulled them off, setting them neatly by the closet. Then I worked on his jacket, managing to wrestle it off his limp arms. His tie came next, and I unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt so he could breathe easier.
I pulled the blanket up over him, tucking it around his shoulders.
My neck still tingled where he had kissed me. My skin still felt branded by his touch.
I was too wired to sleep. Too many emotions churning in my chest.
I walked out to the balcony and sat in the recliner, pulling my knees up to my chest. The night air was cool, and the city below was mostly dark at this hour.
Why had he said those things? Why had he been so angry?
Was it just the alcohol talking? Or was there something deeper? Something real?
I sat there for a long time, trying to make sense of everything. Trying to understand what was happening between us.
