Now, the next chapter after this target is completed.

Today's target -
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मन ये साहिब जी, जाने है सब जी
फिर भी बनाए बहाने
नैना नवाबी जी, देखें हैं सब जी
फिर भी ना समझें इशारे
मन ये साहिब जी, हाँ, करता बहाने
नैना नवाबी जी ना समझें इशारे (समझें इशारे)
धीरे-धीरे, नैनों को धीरे-धीरे
जिया को धीरे-धीरे भायो रे सायबो
धीरे-धीरे, बेगाना धीरे-धीरे
अपना सा धीरे-धीरे लागे रे सायबो
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The sun had just begun its slow crawl over the horizon, spilling streaks of gold through the window, casting a soft glow over Noor's face. She was still asleep, lying next to me in the same lehenga she wore yesterday, her hair loose and messy, framing her face like a chaotic masterpiece. Her lips-those lips I kissed for the first time last night-were slightly parted, the faintest trace of a smile still lingering there, as if even in sleep, she was caught in the echoes of her own confession.

I couldn't take my eyes off her.

Noor.

My Noor.

For the very first time in my life, someone called me her own, and it was her. It had to be her. The girl who walked into my world like a storm, only to become the calm I never knew I craved. I was speechless when she said it. Me-Sidharth, the man who never lacked words, who dominated every room he stepped into-was reduced to silence because of her.

She stirred slightly, her delicate hand shifting closer to mine. I resisted the urge to grab it and hold on as if she might vanish. I had spent the entire night awake, just sitting there with her in silence. She hadn't slept either; I could feel it in the way her body tensed even when I tried to hold her. Yet neither of us spoke. The silence felt too sacred, too pure, to break.

I watched her now, the faint rise and fall of her chest, the way her lashes rested against her cheeks, the soft glow of her skin in the morning light. Messy, tired, and still the most beautiful thing I'd ever laid my eyes on. My breath caught for a moment as my gaze fell to her lips again, and I remembered the kiss-the soft pressure, the way her trembling lips had opened to me. It wasn't just a kiss; it was the first time I had ever felt truly whole.

Her lips moved slightly in her sleep, and I couldn't help but wonder if she was dreaming of me. God, I hoped she was.

A faint smile tugged at my lips as I thought of how she called me "Aarth" last night, a name she had never spoken before. Her voice said it still echoed in my mind, wrapping around my heart like a chain I never wanted to break free from. No name had ever sounded sweeter, more personal, more mine. It gave me peace that no success, no power, no other feeling in the world had ever given me.

I reached out, unable to stop myself, and let my fingers barely graze the back of her hand. Even that tiny contact sent a jolt through me, my heart skipping a beat like a fool's. Her hand was so small compared to mine, so fragile, and yet she was the only person who had ever made me feel this way-like I belonged to someone without losing myself.

And yet, she was healing wounds she didn't even inflict. She was mending the broken, jagged parts of me I had long accepted would never be whole again.

She loves me.

The betrayal of the past was a scar I thought I'd carry to my grave, but now? Now, it felt like she was erasing it, one small, innocent action at a time. How could she do that? How could someone so gentle, so soft, hold so much power over me?

Last night, when she said she loved me, I wanted to tell her what it meant to me, but the words didn't come. How could they? Nothing I said would have been enough. Her love wasn't something I could articulate. It was something I felt in the very marrow of my bones, something that filled every corner of my being until I was overflowing with it.

I brushed a strand of hair from her face, careful not to wake her, and marveled at how peaceful she looked. A warmth spread through my chest, a contentment so deep it scared me. How had this happened? How had she become the center of my world without me even realizing it?

"She's mine," I whispered softly, the words barely audible even to myself. My voice was steady, confident, and filled with an unshakable certainty. "You're my Noor. My very own."

She stirred again, her lips parting slightly as if responding to my claim, and my chest tightened. No one had ever been mine before. Not like this. Not wholly, not willingly. And now that she was, I would never let her go.

I leaned down, pressed a feather-light kiss to the back of her hand, and smiled again. She might not know it yet, but she was everything. And I would make sure she never forgot it.

The world outside was waking up, but my world lay right here in front of me. Noor. My cherry. My very own.

Her face was soft in sleep, her lips parted slightly, the faint glow of morning light making her skin look golden, radiant. She looked untouched by the world, as though nothing had ever bruised her, though I knew better. She was so much stronger than she looked, and yet, at that moment, she seemed so fragile that I wanted to shield her from even the air touching her.

She deserved everything. Every single thing in the world. Everything she wanted, everything her heart desired. She deserved to have the world bow at her feet, and if I could, I would give it to her without a second thought. Because she had given me something I had craved my entire life without even asking-herself.

I had always been a thirsty man, desperate for a drop of what she poured over me in abundance. She was a waterfall, and I had stood beneath her, drinking every bit of her kindness, her warmth, her love, until I was drenched in it. She gave me a peace I never believed I would have. A quiet in my chaotic mind. My cherry.

Her hair had fallen over her face, a soft strand brushing against her cheek, and without thinking, I reached out. My fingers trembled slightly as I tucked the strand behind her ear, letting my touch linger for a heartbeat too long. She didn't stir, but my chest tightened as if she had reacted.

Leaning down, I pressed a feather-light kiss to her forehead, breathing her in. Sandalwood and jasmine-her scent filled the air around her, intoxicating me. I could feel my heart racing, each beat echoing in my ears, and I wasn't sure if it was from the kiss or just her presence.

My gaze dropped to her lips-soft, slightly parted, still swollen from our kiss last night. The memory sent a jolt through me, and I hesitated, torn between holding back and giving in. My resolve crumbled, and I leaned closer, brushing my lips against hers in the gentlest of kisses. It was fleeting, yet it felt like an eternity.

I pulled back, my chest heaving as if I had just run a race. How could someone so small, so delicate, hold so much power over me? Can fall in love with me? I watched her for another moment, then silently stepped away.

The air was cool against my bare skin as I moved toward the door. My upper body was bare, and I had only the dhoti I had worn yesterday wrapped around my waist. The thought of dressing didn't even cross my mind. All I could think about was her.

It was always her.

Noor had spent every day making tea for me, doing things for me, and yet, this morning, all I wanted was to do something for her. I wanted to see her smile-not just any smile, but the one she gave only to me. The one that made her eyes light up, which made her cheeks glow pink.

I turned back, my eyes falling on her as she began to stir. She blinked slowly, her brown eyes meeting mine, and my chest tightened. She sat up slightly, her hair cascading down her back, her cheeks turning a deep shade of red as her gaze flickered over me, realizing I was bare from the waist up.

My lips curved into a smile, a soft, unguarded one I hadn't even realized was forming. I smiled more often now, and it was because of her. She didn't even need to do anything-just the thought of her made me want to smile. And every time I smiled, she smiled back, as if we shared a secret no one else could understand.

I watched her cheeks deepen in color, her small, delicate hands pulling at the blanket nervously, and my heart melted. She looked so small, so innocent, sitting there on the bed. Her brown eyes shone in the morning light, her hair messy and beautiful, her presence filling the room with something I couldn't describe.

She was breathtaking.

My breath caught, and I had to close my eyes for a moment, just to steady myself. How could someone be so beautiful, so utterly enchanting, that I couldn't even breathe properly around her?

When I opened my eyes again, she was still looking at me, her lips trembling as if she wanted to speak but didn't know how. And in that moment, I knew-I didn't need her to say anything. She was already mine in every way that mattered.

Now she wasn't looking at me, her gaze fixed somewhere on her lap, her fingers nervously fidgeting with the blanket. She was shy. Nervous. I knew exactly why. It was because of last night-her confession. The words she spoke were still echoing in my mind, her voice soft, hesitant, but so sure of her feelings.

But even in her shyness, she wasn't pushing me away. No, she wasn't making me feel unwanted. If anything, her silence felt welcoming, like she was letting me in, allowing me to be a part of her world.

I walked back to her, my movements slow, deliberate. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, I tilted my head slightly, trying to catch her gaze.

"Nind achi aayi aapko?"
(Did you sleep well?)

I asked, my voice gentle, almost a whisper.

Her response was barely audible, a simple "Jee,"
(Yes)

but it was enough. Her voice, her presence-it was enough to fill the silence in my heart.

As she sat there, her hair fell forward, a strand brushing against her face, trying to hide her from me. I couldn't allow that. Reaching out, I gently tucked the strand behind her ear, my fingers grazing her skin for just a second. She shivered under my touch, a slight tremble that I felt more than I saw.

For a moment, we sat there, the world outside forgotten. It was just us-two people, a bed, and the soft light of a new day. My chest felt full, heavy with something I couldn't quite name. Contentment, maybe. Or something deeper, stronger.

I tilted my head again, catching her attention. "Chai peeyengi aap?"
(Would you like some tea?)

I asked, my lips curving into a small smile.

She looked up at me then, her brown eyes meeting mine for the briefest of moments before she nodded. She shifted slightly, trying to get up, but I caught her wrist, my grip firm yet gentle.

"Kahan ja rahi hain?"
(Where are you going?)

I asked, my voice low.

Her cheeks turned pink, her lips parting as she stammered,

"C-Chai banane."
(T-To make tea.)

I didn't say anything, just chuckled softly, the sound filling the room. She was so easy to read, so endearing in her attempts to hide her nervousness.

Before she could protest, I stood and, in one swift motion, scooped her up into my arms. She gasped, her hand flying to my chest, landing right over my heart. The moment her palm touched my skin, I felt it-a jolt, like a current running through me. My heartbeat quickened, each thump loud and clear, and I knew she could feel it too.

Her cheeks turned an even deeper shade of red, her wide eyes looking up at me as if I had just done something outrageous. But she didn't push me away. She didn't tell me to stop.

She was so small, so light in my arms, yet she carried the weight of my entire world.

"Kya kar rahe hain aap?"
(What are you doing?)

she whispered, her voice barely audible.

I didn't answer, just carried her out of the room and into the kitchen. Placing her gently on the counter, I stepped back, my hands resting on her knees as I patted them lightly. She was looking at me with wide, questioning eyes, her lips slightly parted, but she didn't say a word.

I smiled at her then, a soft, unguarded smile that I knew was reserved only for her. "Chai bana raha hoon,"
(I'm making tea,)

I said, my voice low but firm.

"Apni biwi ke liye."
(For my wife.)

Her cheeks turned red again, her eyes dropping to her lap, and I couldn't help but chuckle. She was so easy to fluster, so easy to love.

Turning away, I began making tea, the scent of chai filling the kitchen. But even as I worked, my eyes kept drifting back to her, to the way she sat there, her legs swinging slightly, her hands resting in her lap.

Noor's pov-

The soft clinking of utensils and the quiet hiss of boiling tea filled the kitchen. I sat on the edge of the chair, my eyes following his every move. He was standing near the stove, wearing nothing but a plain white dhoti that sat low on his hips. His bare back was strong and broad, the faint light highlighting every curve and line. My heart raced at the sight, but not with restlessness. It was a sweet, calm rhythm-a melody I could lose myself in.

I smiled softly to myself. Last night, I told him the truth. I loved him. And instead of anything, what I felt now was a strange, magical lightness. A freedom that I hadn't known was possible.

"Apne pyaar ka jikr karna jaise ek band darwaza khol dena ho, jisme sirf roshni aur sukoon ho."
(Confessing my love felt like opening a locked door filled with light and peace.)

I watched him as he poured tea into two cups, his hands steady, his movements careful. The way his bare shoulders moved with each action had my heart skipping beats. He looked so effortlessly perfect, so entirely mine.

Every glance at him brought with it a flood of emotions-pride, admiration, and an overwhelming love I couldn't put into words. Last night, his reaction had been so gentle, so heartfelt. He had held me like I was the most precious thing in his world. The memory made my cheeks flush with warmth.

I couldn't look away from him, even as my shyness urged me to. My eyes traced his form, taking in the small beads of sweat clinging to his back and the quiet strength in the way he moved. He was everything I could ever hope for. My heart felt full to the brim, and I couldn't help but think how proud I was to be his wife.

He suddenly turned to look at me, catching me in the act of staring. My breath hitched, and I quickly lowered my gaze, my fingers playing with the edge of my dupatta. Heat rose to my face, spreading across my cheeks and neck. I felt shy but not nervous. It was a comforting kind of shyness, the kind that came from knowing I was loved.

He walked toward me with the cups in his hands. The sound of his bare feet against the floor echoed softly in the quiet room. I reached out to take my cup, my hands trembling slightly. My eyes remained fixed on the steaming tea, too shy to look up.

"Ch-chai bahut achi bani hai," I managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper.
(The tea is very good.)

For a moment, there was silence. Then, his fingers brushed against my cheek, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. His touch sent a shiver down my spine, and I dared to look up at him. His deep, steady gaze held mine, and in a voice so low it made my heart race, he whispered,

"Aapki namak wali chai se toh achhi nahi bani hogi."
(It won't be better than your salty tea.)

His words were teasing, his eyes made me feel even more embarrassed. My cheeks turned a deeper shade of red, and I quickly lowered my gaze again, hiding behind my cup as I took a sip, unable to stop the shy smile tugging at my lips.

I looked down at the tea cup in my hands, its faint warmth slipping through my fingers. The teasing lilt of his voice played in my ears, and my cheeks burned with quiet embarrassment.

I didn't dare look up at him at first. But something within me-a pull I couldn't name-made me lift my eyes.

And there he was.

Sidharth ji stood, his arms folded, his head tilted just enough for a small, knowing smile to stretch across his lips. Not wide, but enough. Enough to make my breath catch, enough to set my heart fluttering like the first time I had truly looked at him.

A smile. It's just a fleeting one. But it felt like the kind of thing you'd find on the pages of a hidden poem, where only those who looked closely would notice its meaning.

How is it always so effortless for him?

The thought struck before I could stop it, and another followed. What if I try?

I swallowed, the idea daring yet... tempting. Teasing him-my Aarth..And yet, for me, it felt monumental. Like stepping over an invisible line that had always separated my reserved self from the playful girl I used to be.

But it wasn't the old me doing this, was it? It was the me who had learned to love him. The one who, even in the tiniest of moments, found herself wrapped in the quiet strength of his presence.

The confidence of it surprised me.

I straightened my back, carefully tucking away the shy smile tugging at my lips. He couldn't see that-no, not yet. Instead, I adjusted my expression, letting something stern take its place. Neutral, unreadable, as though his words hadn't touched me at all.

I took another slow sip of tea, my lashes fluttering downward as I avoided his gaze. But the tiniest flick of my eyes told me he was watching. His smile remained, curious now, as though he could sense something stirring in me.

Another sip. Then another.

Deliberately, I placed the cup back on the counter with a faint clink. The sound caught his attention. I could feel it, the shift in his focus, the way his gaze sharpened and softened all at once.

But I refused to meet it.

Sliding down from the counter, I moved to leave. It was subtle, barely a step, but before my foot could find the ground, I felt his hand on my waist. Firm, steady, warm. It grounded me immediately, and my breath hitched as he eased me back into place.

"Kya hua?" His voice was low, smooth as velvet, and yet there was something unshakably steady in it.

(What happen?)

I shook my head, still not meeting his eyes. Not yet. I couldn't. If I did, I knew the playfulness I was trying to hide would spill over too soon.

"Cherry?" His voice softened, the faintest tease threading through it.

My fingers fidgeted, playing with the edge of my dupatta, but I kept silent. Still, he didn't move his hand, and when I finally tried to brush it away, he only smiled wider.

"Achha, sorry. Nahi bolunga." The apology came so naturally, without hesitation, and it struck me in a way I hadn't expected.

(Okay sorry. I won't say it)

I bit the inside of my cheek, fighting the urge to smile.

Yeh kaise ho sakte hain itne...? (How can he be this...?) I couldn't find the words, not even in my mind.

I tried once more to move his hand, but he only leaned in slightly, his other hand brushing against my cheek, cupping it gently.

"Cherry?" His voice dropped lower, as though the nickname was meant only for me, only for this moment.

And just like that, my resolve melted.

I looked up, finally meeting his gaze. It was endless, deep enough to drown in, and for a moment, I wondered if he knew exactly what I had been trying to do. If he could sense the soft defiance in my actions, the quiet rebellion of teasing him back for the first time.

His thumb brushed lightly against my cheek, and my breath caught again.

I looked up at him, my heart fluttering as my eyes caught his. He wasn't smiling now, not teasing anymore, just staring back at me with a focus that made my chest feel tight. The way his attention was solely on me-it was overwhelming, and yet... I loved it.

Every time he looked at me like that, it did something strange to me. Made me shy, made me want to hide, yet I'd catch myself wanting more of it. Wanting him to keep looking. Keep noticing.

I felt his hand on my waist, light and loose now, as though even his touch softened when I looked at him. His fingers grazed against my bare waist, and for a moment, I wanted to let it linger. But the teasing thought that had struck me earlier came rushing back.

With the faintest smile tugging at my lips, I gently took his hand and slipped it away from my waist, letting it fall back to his side. He didn't stop me, though I could feel his curious gaze following my every move.

Turning away from him, I tried to keep my face blank, as if I was upset. My shoulders straightened, my chin lifted slightly, and I took one confident step forward. And then another.

But as soon as I was out of his line of sight, a grin broke across my face. A big, uncontrollable smile that I quickly tried to hide with my hand. I did it! The thought rang in my mind, triumphant and light, and I felt a laugh bubbling in my chest.

Forcing the smile away, I kept walking, pretending as if nothing had happened. My footsteps echoed softly in the hallway, and as I neared the garden doors, I heard him.

His footsteps.

The sound of them made my heart jump again, and without meaning to, a smile returned to my lips. He's following me.

But I didn't turn around. My back remained to him as I pushed open the door and stepped into the cool evening air. Wrapping my arms around my chest, I pretended to be angry still, twisting my lips slightly to look serious.

The garden was quiet and peaceful, yet I could feel his presence close behind me. I took a few steps forward, feeling the soft grass beneath my sandals, when suddenly-

His hand slid around my waist.

Before I could react, I was pulled back, my body colliding gently against his. My breath hitched at the sudden closeness, the warmth of his bare chest against my back.

"Sorry." His voice came low, soft, right near my ear.

I froze. The word, so unexpected, sent a shiver through me. My heart melted instantly, despite my efforts to keep it steady.

I turned around slowly, facing him, trying to maintain the serious expression on my face. But inside, I was already undone.

He looked... different. His brows were drawn together, his face holding an expression I hadn't seen often-a mix of guilt and something softer. The slight frown made him look... adorable. So much so that my first instinct was to reach up and pull his cheeks.

But I didn't.

Instead, I tilted my chin up slightly, meeting his gaze with an attempt at a glare.

"Aap hamesha aise karte ho." (You always do this)

He didn't respond, his eyes searching mine instead. And in that moment, I saw it. Something in his eyes-more than his words could ever say. Something tender, something quiet.

It was his silence that undid me.

A wide smile spread across my lips before I could stop it. The kind of smile that came from somewhere deep inside. Before he could say anything, I reached up and lightly flicked his nose with my finger.

"Jaiye maaf kiya," I said, giggling softly. (Okay I forgive you)

His face shifted, his frown replaced by a look of utter confusion, as if he couldn't understand what had just happened.

And that look-it made me laugh even more.

The garden was bathed in the soft golden hues of the morning sun, with delicate rays filtering through the trees, making the dew shimmer like scattered pearls. Noor lifted the hem of her lehenga slightly, her bangles clinking softly as she ran, a playful giggle escaping her lips. Her cheeks were flushed a rosy pink, and her heart raced-not from the running but from the sheer joy bubbling inside her.

Noor suddenly stopped a few steps ahead, turning toward him with a mischievous glint in her eyes. Her lehenga swayed gently with her movement, and she tilted her head slightly, her lips curving into a playful smile.

"Par hum gussa the hi kab aapse?"
("But when were we ever angry at you?")

Her words made Sidharth freeze for a moment, his brows furrowing slightly in disbelief. She broke into giggles again, her laughter ringing out like a melody that matched the morning birdsong. He stood there, stunned and amused, his arms crossing as his eyes narrowed at her, an exaggerated expression of mock annoyance taking over his face.

"Nahi the gussa?" he repeated, a slow smirk spreading across his lips. Without warning, he lunged toward her, his sudden movement making Noor squeal in surprise.

(You weren't angry)

"Nahi!" she called out, spinning on her legs and lifting her lehenga to run. Her anklets jingled with every hurried step, and the soft fabric of her dupatta billowed behind her. She darted through the garden, her laughter mixing with the rustle of leaves and the soft rustling of her attire.

Siddharth, determined and amused, called after her,

"Aap- Rukiye aap. Batata hu mai"
(You-Stop. I'll tell you)

Noor's giggles grew louder as she tried to evade him, weaving between the bushes and the garden paths, but her lehenga slowed her down. Within moments, Siddharth's hands slid around her bare wrists, and in one swift motion, he pulled her toward him.

A gasp escaped her lips as her back collided with his chest. His arms circled her waist, firm yet gentle, as if to keep her safe even in his playful grip.

"Mujhe itna pareshaan kiya, aur keh rahi hain gussa the hi kab?" he murmured into her ear, his voice low, teasing.

("You troubled me so much, and now you're saying you were never angry?")

Noor turned her face slightly, her cheeks flushing from all the running and laughter. Before she could respond, Sidharth spun her around in his arms, twirling her like she was the only thing that mattered in the world. The sunlight danced on her dupatta, the embroidery of her lehenga catching the golden light, as she let out another burst of laughter.

When he finally stopped, Siddharth set her down gently, his hands still holding hers. Their laughter had softened into breathless giggles, and Noor placed her hands on his chest to steady herself. She looked up at him, her wide eyes sparkling with mirth, her smile brighter than the morning sun.

Sidharth, too, was smiling, his eyes crinkling at the corners, his face lit with an expression so pure and carefree that Noor couldn't look away. She loved this side of him, the one that laughed freely, that made her heart feel light and full all at once.

Then Sidharth leaned a little & flicked her nose & and said,

"Thori buri to aap bhi hai Cherry."
(You too are little bad Cherry)

His face still had that smile on his lips that was making her morning much better.

Noor smiled. And flicked his nose gently with her finger.

"Aapse thore kam."
(A little less than you)

Her comment made him throw his head back in laughter, his deep, rich voice echoing in the garden. Noor found herself mesmerized by his smile-the way his lips curved, the way his eyes lit up. She had never seen anything more beautiful.

In the next moment, Sidharth leaned down, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face before placing a soft kiss on her forehead. The gesture was gentle, filled with an unspoken affection that made Noor's heart skip a beat.

She closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the warmth of his touch, and when she opened them, he was looking at her with a tender gaze that held a world of emotions. The breeze carried the faint scent of roses, the sunlight casting a golden halo around them.

And in that magical moment, with the echoes of their laughter still lingering in the air, it felt as if the universe itself had paused to witness their love.

Siddharth's hand gently brushed over Noor's cheek, his fingers tracing the soft curve of her face. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through her, and her heart raced as he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss against her flushed skin. His lips lingered for a moment, savoring the closeness, before he pulled back slightly to look at her. Noor's smile remained, but her eyes lowered shyly, not daring to meet his gaze fully.

Siddharth could feel the tension in the air, the subtle heat between them growing. He traced his thumb lightly over her lower lip, his gaze following the movement as she inhaled softly. The moment felt suspended in time, the world outside fading as they remained in this bubble of intimacy. Slowly, Siddharth moved closer, as though drawn to her, his intentions clear in the way his eyes darkened with desire.

Before he could close the distance, Noor raised a hand, gently covering her lips. Her cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink, and her voice came out in a soft, timid whisper.

"A-Avi nahi. Hum garden me hai..." she stammered, her shyness evident.

(Not now. We are in garden)

Sidharth chuckled softly, the sound low and amused. He could see how her shyness made her even more beautiful, the contrast between her innocence and the undeniable chemistry between them igniting something in him. Without a word, he lifted her gently, carrying her into the house. The air around them had shifted, becoming thick with unspoken feelings, the transition smooth yet undeniable.

As they entered the living room, Sidharth laid her down on the couch, his body hovering over hers. Noor's breath hitched as she felt a shiver run down her spine, the heat from his body pressing against hers. His face was inches from hers, his eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that made her heart skip a beat.

"Now... can I kiss you?" Sidharth asked softly, his voice low, almost a murmur.

Noor could barely nod, the weight of his question leaving her breathless. Before she could gather her thoughts, Siddharth's lips were on hers, soft and warm. The kiss was tender at first, as though he was savoring the moment, but then, he deepened it, his hand moving to the curve of her waist. Noor's hand instinctively found its way to his neck clutching the gold chain as the kiss became more urgent.

There was a quiet intensity in the way Sidharth kissed her, as if he were claiming a piece of her while still being gentle, almost reverent. His hand slid from her waist to her side, fingers brushing lightly along her skin, sending a shiver through her body. The kiss was a perfect balance of softness and passion, each movement deliberate but filled with an undeniable hunger.

Noor's pulse raced as she felt his touch, the heat between them growing more palpable. She couldn't help but respond, her body instinctively moving closer to him, as though it were made to fit against his. The world outside disappeared, and in that moment, it was just the two of them, caught in a kiss that spoke louder than words.

Sidharth pulled back slightly, taking two deep breaths. His eyes lingered on Noor's face, a mischievous grin spreading across his lips. Without warning, he crashed his lips against hers again, this time more forceful, more urgent. His kiss was intense, and the pressure behind it made her breath hitch.

His hand slid upward, fingers brushing over her soft skin until they reached her chest. He cupped her breast gently, his thumb grazing her nipple, causing it to harden instantly. The sensation sent a shockwave through her, making her lips part with a soft gasp. He followed the movement of her lips, his kiss deepening, his tongue slipping inside her mouth to taste her once again.

Noor's heart pounded in her chest, her body responding to the heat building between them. Her hands moved instinctively, gripping the gold chain, pulling him even closer. As his hand moved to the swell of her breast, he pinched her nipple gently, causing a sharp breath to escape her lips. The kiss grew more feverish, the heat of their bodies pressing together as the world around them seemed to disappear.

Every touch, every movement was electrifying. Sidharth's dominance and the hunger in his kiss made her feel alive in a way she had never had before. He was in control, and yet there was a tenderness in his touch that sent a thrill through her. The kiss deepened again, his hand tightening around her chest, his touch possessive yet gentle, urging her closer as the world around them seemed to fade away.

They were lost in each other, the kiss becoming more desperate, more demanding, yet still incredibly intimate and electric. Each second felt like an eternity, their connection growing stronger with each passionate kiss until neither of them could bear to pull away.
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I sat quietly in the car, the gentle hum of the engine almost lulling me to sleep. The soft fabric of my saree clung to my skin, and I couldn't help but smile at the thought of how simple yet beautiful these moments with him had become. The sunlight filtered through the window, casting a warm glow over everything, making it feel like a dream.

Sidharth ji unbuckled his seatbelt first, his movements calm, deliberate. He always moved with such ease, never in a rush. Then, without a word, he leaned toward me, his hand hovering near my seatbelt. His breath was warm against my skin, and I couldn't help but feel a tiny flutter in my chest as his fingers brushed my cheek. The sensation lingered, making my heart race despite how familiar the touch was.

A soft smile tugged at my lips. I didn't need to say anything; just the way he was with me-always gentle - always present-spoke volumes. He opened my seatbelt with ease, and my breath caught in my throat, like I was caught in the moment, frozen in time, with him. His gaze met mine, and there was a silent connection, an understanding between us, something deeper than words could express.

Sidharth ji then took a long breath and opened the car door for me, offering me his hand in the same familiar way. It had become a quiet ritual between us, something that always made me feel special, like I was the only one in his world. I placed my hand in his, feeling the strength in his grip, and allowed him to help me out of the car.

Stepping out, I couldn't help but admire the bustling village market around us. It was so alive-people haggling over clothes, bright bangles spread out on the ground, the scent of spices in the air. The narrow roads were packed with life, and everywhere I looked, there was color and sound. It was beautiful, in its own rustic way, a true reflection of the village's heartbeat.

But even with all the commotion, my attention was still on him. His hand in mine, warm and steady, made everything else seem so distant. It felt as though his touch was the only thing keeping me grounded, the only thing I truly needed.

And just like that, his hand slipped into mine once more. It was the same as before, yet somehow, it felt different. There was this flutter in my chest, a softness that would never fade, no matter how many times he held my hand. It was the first time, and it was still the same every time after. My heart raced as if I was experiencing it for the very first time.

I looked up at him, catching his soft gaze as he smiled down at me. It was a look that made me feel both cherished and overwhelmed with emotion. "Chaliye," he said, his voice low, soft, and full of warmth.

(Let's g)

His presence, his touch, the way he made me feel-I didn't need anything else.

Even in the middle of the lively market, everything else seemed to fade away. It was just the two of us, his hand in mine, and the quiet connection that only we shared. My heart beat faster, my cheeks flushing under his gaze, but somehow, with him, I felt safe, loved, and completely at peace.

I could feel the energy of the market before I even saw it-people talking, laughing, haggling, and the air thick with the scent of spices and the sweet fragrance of flowers. But before I could even step into the crowd, I felt Siddharth ji's hand tighten around mine, and then, in one smooth motion, he guided me to the right side of the road, positioning himself on my left, as though creating a protective barrier between me and the world.

His subtle gesture wasn't lost on me. It was like a quiet promise, one that didn't need to be said aloud-he was keeping me safe, shielding me from the chaos. I could feel his presence beside me, steady and unwavering, and it made me feel secure, almost like the world outside didn't matter.

A soft smile crept onto my lips. I instinctively tightened my grip on his hand, savoring the warmth and strength he offered. In a place full of people and noise, it was his hand that I clung to, and I never wanted to let go.

As we stepped deeper into the market, my gaze wandered over the many vibrant stalls and shops-bright fabrics, glittering jewelry, and colorful bangles spilling over the ground. Each stall seemed to whisper its own story, each trinket a treasure waiting to be discovered. I was in awe, mesmerized by the colors and the charm of it all. It was like a little slice of my world, where everything felt so simple, yet so magical.

I couldn't help but be drawn to the delicate bangles on display-a variety of colors, patterns, and designs. My eyes caught a glimpse of something that made my heart skip a beat-a set of pink glass bangles with a subtle sparkle on them. They were beautiful and delicate, and I couldn't resist the urge to stop. I didn't even notice I had halted until I heard the shopkeeper's voice,

"Aur kya dikhao main madam?"
(What should I show you madam?)

I blinked, snapping out of my trance, and I shook my head softly. I was just admiring the bangles, but I didn't want to seem too eager. I tried to move forward, to keep walking, but then I heard Siddharth ji's calm voice,

"Wo gulabi churiya nikalo."

(Took those pink bangles out)

His words caught me off guard, and I looked up at him, surprised. The fact that he had noticed my fascination with the pink bangles warmed my heart.

He notices. He always does.

A smile-no, a grin-spread across my lips. It was the kind of smile that couldn't be hidden, the one that made everything inside me feel soft and fluttery.

The shopkeeper didn't hesitate, quickly laying the pink bangles on the table in front of us. I looked up at Sidharth ji, my heart pounding in my chest, and I gave him a small smile. The warmth in his eyes softened my thoughts, and before I could react, I saw him smile back at me-a smile that was just for me.

That smile made everything inside me flutter, like a thousand butterflies had taken flight. It was as if at that moment, he was all I needed. He made everything feel right.

I reached forward slowly, my fingers brushing against the cool surface of the bangles. I picked one up, the pink glass sparkling gently under the sunlight. I admired it for a moment, but the truth was, I wasn't really looking at the bangle anymore. My attention was on Siddharth ji-his presence, his gaze, everything about him.

His hand, still holding mine, was firm but gentle. The warmth of his fingers curled around mine, and I couldn't help but feel safe, loved in that simple touch.

The shopkeeper reached out to hand me the bangles, and instinctively, I raised my hand, ready to accept them. But before I could take them, Siddharth ji's hand was there, taking the bangles from the shopkeeper.

I looked at him, my heart in my throat, and was startled to see the intensity in his eyes. His brow furrowed, and there was a quiet anger in his expression, something that made me step back a little in confusion.

But then, just as quickly, his eyes softened, and the tension in his face melted away. He took my hand gently, holding it softly, but his attention never left the bangle in his hand. His fingers moved delicately, carefully, as he slid the bangle onto my wrist, his gaze focused on the delicate piece of jewelry as if it were the most important thing in the world at that moment.

And yet, I couldn't tear my eyes away from him. The way he treated me, the care in his every movement, made my heart race. I loved how he always gave me his full attention and how he made every moment feel like something special. His touch, his gaze-it was all so tender, so full of care, and I couldn't help but feel like the luckiest person in the world.

As he finished adjusting the bangle on my wrist, I looked up at him, my breath caught in my chest. I wanted to say something, but words seemed too small for the emotions swirling inside me. Instead, I gave him a soft smile, one that spoke of everything I couldn't say.

I looked down at my wrist, the pink glass bangle gleaming under the sunlight. The sound of the delicate bangles clicking against each other filled the air, soft and melodic, like a sweet lullaby. My fingers trembled slightly as I gently shook my wrist, listening to the light clinking of the glass.

A soft, contented sigh escaped me as I let myself lose in the moment. I loved this-loved how the bangles felt, and loved how getting ready made me feel so... so peaceful, so complete. It was like a small ritual, one that made everything else fade away, leaving just the joy of the present.

A smile tugged at my lips, a wide, almost innocent smile that spread across my face like sunshine breaking through the clouds. My heart fluttered at the simple joy of being surrounded by things I loved-things that made me feel like a woman, like someone cherished and adored. In that moment, I could have stayed there forever, lost in the little things, in the quiet melody of the market, and the warmth that spread from my wrist to my heart.

And then, I heard it-a soft click. The sound was so familiar, and yet it caught me off guard. My eyes instinctively shot up, searching for the source of the sound, only to meet Sidharth ji's gaze. There he was, phone in hand, his eyes fixed on me, a strange emotion dancing in his gaze-something I couldn't place, something that made my heart skip a beat.

I blinked in surprise, my cheeks flushing a deep pink, warmth flooding my face. He had clicked a picture of me, and I felt my heart race at the thought. He had captured me in this moment, this simple, beautiful moment, with no makeup or pretension-just me, as I was. And it made me feel... special, seen, and cherished.

A shy smile tugged at my lips, but before I could say a word, Sidharth ji's voice broke through my thoughts.

"Cherry, smile please," he said, and there was something so endearing, so tender in the way he said it, like a playful whisper in a quiet room. His words were soft, almost teasing, but wrapped in affection, and I couldn't help but feel my heart warm even more.

I looked up at him, a little embarrassed, but mostly... happy. He was watching me with such intensity, his gaze soft but unwavering. His smile was gentle, and there was something about it that had the power to make me forget everything around me.

It was the kind of smile that could erase all the worries of the world, leaving only warmth in its wake. His smile had a way of making everything seem okay, like everything I had dreamed of was finally real.

I raised my hand again, the pink bangles glimmering, my wrist still lifted, as I looked at him through lowered lashes. And in that moment, it was as if time slowed. I didn't even need to pose in any way-what mattered was how I felt, how I wanted to capture this feeling, this small piece of us, this moment of connection. I tilted my head ever so slightly, my heart swelling with emotion as I realized something deep inside me. This was exactly what I had always dreamed of.

I had watched my father take pictures of my mother-her, dressed up and glowing, and him, sneaking in those precious snapshots when she wasn't looking. It was a memory I had cherished for so long, a quiet expression of love that I had hoped would one day be mine.

And now, here I was, with Siddharth ji-the man who had somehow become everything, my world. My Aarth -capturing a simple moment of me, the way I was.

His attention, his smile-they were all the things I love, and in this one gesture, he had given them to me.

The camera clicked again, and this time, I let my hand fall, bringing my wrist back down gently to my side, my posture returning to its natural stance. But even as I returned to my usual self, something inside me felt different.

My heart was full, overflowing with emotions I couldn't fully express, but I knew it was love-the kind of love that made everything feel alive, like a romantic melody playing in the background of an old-school movie.

Sidharth ji walked toward me then, his stride confident but gentle, and as he neared, he took my hand once more. His touch was firm but tender, as if he was pulling me into his world, into his warmth, into the safety he promised. His eyes, always so intense, lowered to meet mine, and then that smile-his smile-spread across his face again. It was a smile that had the power to unravel all of my thoughts, to make me forget everything else but him.

He smiled at me, and in that moment, I could feel everything inside me softening, melting. His smile was my safe place, my constant, and as I gazed up at him, I knew... I was falling deeper. With every smile, with every glance, I was falling more in love with him, and I couldn't help but feel... grateful. I am grateful that I had found someone like him-someone who saw me, who cared for me, who made me feel like the most important person in the world.

And just like that, my heart was his.

He was looking at me like he had captured something-something I couldn't explain. I felt my cheeks warm as a soft blush crept over my skin. He had clicked my picture.

Before I could speak, or do anything, he smiled and said,

"Pasand aaye?"
(Did you like it?)

His voice was teasing, yet there was something so gentle about it, and I could feel the warmth in his words. I looked down again, feeling the shyness bloom in me, but it didn't stop the small smile tugging at my lips. I nodded, not trusting myself to say anything more. His smile had already melted all the words in my heart.

But then I saw him reaching for his wallet. A frown slipped onto my face, and before I knew what I was doing, I reached out and stopped him by holding his wrist gently.

He looked at me, surprised by my sudden action. But before he could say anything, I spoke, my voice barely a whisper,

"Parso hi itni churiya laye hai aap."
(You bought so many bangles just the day before.)

Siddharth ji chuckled, a soft sound that made my heart flutter. It was a sound that seemed to wrap around me, warm and comforting. My frown turned into a smile. How could I not smile when he was like this? He didn't argue, didn't resist, just quietly took out a 500-rupee note, and handed it to the shopkeeper, without another word.

"Keep the change," he said, his voice smooth and commanding before turning toward me. He took my hand once again, the cool touch of his fingers sliding over my wrist as he slipped on the remaining bangles. Each click of the glass bangles was like a soft whisper, a promise, and his touch-so gentle, so tender-felt like an unspoken vow.

He held both my hands now, and I looked up at him, meeting his gaze. His eyes were intense, filled with something deeper than I could understand. I could feel his love in the way he held me in the way he cared for me in moments like this. And then, he spoke-his words were simple, yet they held so much weight.

"Kya Frida mere kamane ke agar mai meri biwi ki, jis bhi cheez pe nazar ruke, woh unhe na dila pau"

(What difference will my earnings make if I can't buy anything my wife desires?)

His words sank into my heart like a soft, tender melody, filling me with a warmth I couldn't explain. My chest tightened with emotion, and for a moment, everything around us faded away.

It was just us-his words, my feelings, the soft jingling of my bangles, and the depth of his love that filled the space between us.

I didn't know how to respond, didn't know what to say. But in that moment, I realized something-I didn't need to say anything. His actions, his words, spoke louder than anything I could ever say. I was his, and he was mine. And that, in itself, was enough.

He held my hands firmly as we began walking again, side by side, the noise of the market fading as I got lost in the simple, beautiful moment. And then, I heard his voice again, so soft, so warm.

"Aapke liye kuch karna accha lagta hai, Cherry."
(I love doing things for you, Cherry.)

His words were like a quiet confession, and my heart skipped a beat. I didn't look up at him. I couldn't. But a smile spread across my face, a secret smile that only I knew. It was like something inside me stirred, something so tender and gentle that I couldn't help but let it bloom.

This-this was everything I had ever wanted. A love like this. Simple, beautiful, and full of moments that made me feel like the luckiest woman in the world.

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Noor sat beside Sidharth, her face glowing with happiness as she carefully packed small gifts for everyone. She was excited, her hands moving quickly as she placed each item into the bag. Her laughter filled the air, a soft sound that made Sidharth's heart warm. She was happy, and seeing her so excited made him feel a sense of peace. They were leaving tomorrow, and everything seemed to fall into place.

Sidharth lay on the bed, half resting against the bedpost, a small smile on his face as he watched her. His eyes followed her every movement, taking in the way she carefully arranged everything. He felt content, happy with the simplicity of the moment. But then, something shifted in the air. He couldn't help but notice how the sari she wore had shifted, revealing a glimpse of her cleavage.

For a brief moment, his gaze dropped lower, catching the sight of her exposed skin. He quickly pulled his eyes away, trying to focus on something else, but his mind wasn't ready to let go. His heart raced slightly, and his body tightened. He clenched his jaw, forcing his focus back to her face as she continued excitedly packing.

But it was hard. His mind kept wandering back to that sight-the soft curve of her body, the way the blouse dipped a little deeper than it should have, the way the pallu of her sari failed to hide everything it was supposed to. His breath caught in his throat, and he felt a heat rising inside him.

And he was hard.

Without meaning to, his eyes flickered back down, catching the sight of her cleavage again. He could feel his control slipping, the need to look at her becoming stronger. He clenched his jaw again, fighting the urge to look longer, but it was hard to resist.

His mind screamed "fuck" as his thoughts raced, images filling his head, making him lose himself for a moment.

The warmth in his chest turned into something else-a sharp, burning heat that he couldn't ignore. His body tensed, and for a moment, he forgot about everything else around him. His eyes finally moved back up to her face, but they were filled with something darker now-a hunger, a desire that he hadn't been able to push away.

He watched her continue to pack, her excitement still there, but something in his gaze had changed. His heart was beating faster now, his body alert and filled with an intensity he hadn't expected. He could feel his control slipping away, and he knew that he was losing himself in the moment, in the way she made him feel.

Sidharth felt a tension build in him, something powerful, something almost dangerous. He wanted her-wanted to pull her closer, wanted to see more, to feel more. The room seemed smaller now, the air thicker, as his desire for her grew stronger.

He sat up, his body moving without thinking, and he reached for her, his hands suddenly desperate. His breath was shallow, his gaze locked on her as if he couldn't look away. There was something fierce in the way he moved, something raw, as if he was fighting to control his own instincts.

He leaned in closer, his hand gently cupping her chin, guiding her eyes to meet his. His voice was low, thick with desire, as he spoke

"You have no idea how much you drive me crazy," he murmured, his lips just inches from hers. The heat between them was undeniable now, and he could feel the tension crackling in the air.

Siddharth's eyes moved over her body again, not caring to hide his hunger anymore. The intensity in his gaze was clear-he wanted her, and he wasn't going to hold back. He wasn't going to pretend that he could control this anymore. His body pressed closer to hers, his fingers brushing against her skin, sending shivers down her spine.

In that moment, everything between them changed. The playful, tender atmosphere shifted into something darker, more intense, as Sidharth let his obsession take control.

He wasn't gentle anymore; he was hungry, eager, wanting her in a way that made everything else in the world disappear. He pulled her closer, his lips crashing onto hers, the kiss fierce and desperate.

Sidharth's fingers brushed the side of her cheek, gently guiding her face towards him as his lips met hers. The kiss began soft, almost hesitant, as if testing the waters, but the heat between them quickly built. His hands gripped her waist, pulling her closer, their bodies now pressed together, the tension palpable.

Noor's breath hitched, her lips parting slightly in surprise, but it didn't stop him. His lips were firm, hungry, as if he couldn't wait any longer. He kissed her with a possessiveness she'd never known before, a raw need that overwhelmed them both.

Noor's hands found their way to his chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, as if anchoring herself to this moment. She felt his heartbeat thundering beneath her palm, matching the erratic rhythm of her own pulse.

His kiss grew more demanding, his lips moving against hers in a way that left her breathless, her head spinning. She was lost in him, in the intensity of his touch, the way he made her feel as if everything else faded away. But before she could fully lose herself, he pulled back suddenly, breaking the kiss.

Her chest heaved, her face flushed, lips swollen and tingling from the force of the kiss. She opened her eyes, her heart still racing, only to meet his gaze-dark and intense, full of an emotion she couldn't quite place.

His eyes moved over her face, then lower, to the exposed part of her blouse. The sight of her cleavage, the open buttons of her blouse, made his breath catch.

Sidharth clenched his jaw, his gaze lingering there for a moment before he forced himself to look back up at her. Noor's eyes were wide, filled with confusion and innocence.

She didn't understand what had just happened, why the kiss had turned so aggressive, why his touch had been so desperate. Her heart was still in a daze, her mind trying to catch up with her emotions.

But Sidharth didn't give her time to question. He could feel the pull in him, the dark desire that threatened to take over. His gaze fell back down again, unable to ignore the sight of her blouse, the way the buttons were undone. His body tightened, his control slipping further. He couldn't resist it any longer. Without a word, he pressed his lips back onto hers, this time with more force, more urgency.

His lips crashed against hers in a kiss that was both desperate and possessive, and then, without warning, he bit her lower lip-just enough to make her gasp, just enough to remind her of how much he wanted her. The sharpness of it sent a jolt through her, and she moaned softly into the kiss, her hands gripping his shirt tighter.

When he finally pulled back, his breath was ragged. His eyes were darker now, more intense, his jaw clenched as he spoke, his voice thick with a need that he couldn't hide.

"Controlling around you is becoming difficult, Cherry," he murmured, the words almost a growl as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

Noor's breath caught in her throat. She could feel the heat of his words, the weight of his desire pressing against her. His lips were now trailing soft kisses down her neck, his breath hot against her skin, sending shivers through her body. She felt a wave of heat wash over her, but she couldn't stop herself from feeling confused, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment.

Sidharth didn't seem to care about her confusion. His grip on her tightened as he nuzzled into her neck, his lips moving against her skin with a possessiveness she hadn't expected. He was lost in the moment, in her-lost in the pull of his desire. He wasn't finished. Not by a long shot.

Siddharth's lips were still pressed against Noor's skin, His hands, though gentle at first, now moved with purpose, his fingers trailing up the curve of her wrist, his touch sending shivers across her skin. Slowly, they traveled higher, his palm resting lightly over her breast, and he squeezed, the action firm but tender.

Noor felt her breath catch, the pressure of his hand sending a surge of warmth through her chest. She didn't pull back; instead, she leaned into the him, her body responding instinctively, her hands finding their way to his broad shoulders, gripping them as if anchoring herself in the moment.

But then, as if to shift the dynamics of the moment, Siddharth's grip tightened, and without warning, he pulled her over his lap. She gasped softly as she felt her legs straddle him, her body now pressed flush against his.

"Ahh"

The transition was swift but smooth, and there was a weight in the air, the intimacy thick and charged between them.

Sidharth leaned back against the headboard, his legs stretched out beneath her, his chest rising and falling with each breath. He reached up, his fingers brushing against the back of her neck, pulling her in for another kiss - slower this time, chastising, almost reverent. His lips left hers to press a soft, possessive kiss at the base of her neck, and she shivered under the heat of his touch.

His hands moved with careful attention, fingers brushing the edges of her sari, finding the pallu that had slipped. He tucked it away, exposing more of her soft skin. His fingers followed the curve of her body, tracing the lines of her chest, the swell of her breast, and though the action was possessive, it wasn't without affection.

Every touch, every kiss, spoke of a love so intense, so raw, that it blurred the lines between adoration and desire. There was no rush, no impatience. Everything was slow, deliberate - a deep, burning connection that transcended mere lust, even though it was undoubtedly there, simmering beneath the surface.

It was love wrapped in passion, in the kind of devotion that filled every space between them.

Sidharth paused, his eyes searching her face. She was flushed, her chest rising with quick breaths, her eyes wide and innocent, not fully understanding the depth of what was happening. But he did, and the heat in his gaze deepened.

"You're everything, Cherry," he murmured, his voice rough, his breath warm against her skin. "Everything I've ever dream off."

The air was heavy with the weight of their closeness. Sidharth's heart pounded as he looked at Noor, his hands trembling slightly with the need to feel more of her. Their kisses had been slow and deliberate, but the fire between them had only grown stronger. His hand, still on her waist, slid upward over the fabric of her sari, his touch gentle but insistent.

He felt the soft curve of her breast, his palm warm against her skin. A low breath escaped him, his eyes fixed on her, dark with hunger and affection. Noor's breath faltered as his hand moved, instinctively aware of where it was going, yet unable to stop herself from wanting more. His fingers gently cupped her, making her pulse race. He could feel her hesitation, but it was overshadowed by the deep trust she had in him. His lips parted slightly, his voice hushed and thick with emotion.

"Do you trust me, Cherry?"

Her eyes met his, her breath shallow, her lips trembling with the weight of his question. She nodded, her heart racing in response to his touch, his closeness. He saw the vulnerability in her eyes-she was giving him all of her. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing her neck softly before he moved lower.

One hand remained over her breast, gently holding her, while his mouth trailed lower. The soft fabric of her blouse was no barrier to him now; his lips found the sensitive spot just above her nipple. He nipped gently at the fabric, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath. She gasped, her body reacting to the mix of tenderness and intensity. Sidharth paused, his lips hovering just above hers, his hand tightening around her waist as he looked into her eyes.

"I want to see them, Cherry." His voice was low, filled with an ache that mirrored her own.

"Please,"

Noor's breath was ragged, her chest rising and falling as her heart raced with growing intensity. She could feel his need, but it wasn't just lust-it was love, care, and something deeper, something that made her feel safe even as he pushed boundaries.

He kissed her again, this time more fiercely, his teeth grazing her lower lip as his hands explored the softness of her body. She couldn't look away from him, and for a moment, she forgot everything but the overwhelming pull between them.
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How was the chapter? Hope you'll
like it!

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