The grand ballroom shimmered under the glow of crystal chandeliers, the soft sound of champagne glasses mingling with quiet talk about business. Kiara adjusted the strap of her navy-blue gown, feeling slightly out of place among the fancy guests.
The scent of perfume and wine made her dizzy. Everyone looked so confident, so perfect, and she felt like she didn't belong. Her fingers tightened around her clutch as she scanned the room, searching for an escape from the overwhelming luxury.
Her parents walked beside her, their faces glowing with pride as they entered the bright event hall. Her father straightened his tie, glancing around at the crowd of well-dressed guests, while her mother leaned closer to Kiara. "Kiara, tonight is important," she whispered softly, her voice filled with both warmth and warning. "Remember, this is more than just a business party." She gave Kiara's arm a gentle squeeze. "Look sharp, but… don't be intimidated."
Kiara let out a slow breath, feeling the weight of her mother's words settle on her like an invisible crown. She had heard those words before...at dinners, meetings, weddings. But this one felt heavier, like the air carried some secret expectation.
The silk of her dress brushed against her skin, smooth and cool. She forced herself to walk tall, even though her heart was thudding.
Her mother's hand gently nudged her toward a group of people. There, a man in a tailored charcoal suit stood with his back to them, his posture rigid with practiced authority. As her parents stopped behind him, the nearby conversations quieted for a moment. The hum of conversation dipped momentarily as her parents paused behind him.
Kiara's breath hitched as the man turned, revealing sharp cheekbones and a gaze that cut through the crowd like polished steel. His lips curved into a practiced smile...one that didn't quite reach his eyes...Just then, her mother's voice sang out, "Mr. Rathore".
Before Abhimaan could answer, his father walked up with a big smile. "Ah, there you are!" he said. "Kiara, meet Abhimaan. Abhimaan, this is Kiara."
Kiara's breath caught as their eyes met. Abhimaan's gaze was sharp, intense, and unsettlingly… magnetic. His dark eyes swept over her in a way that made her pulse race, and she felt heat creep up her neck.
His hand extended, palm upturned, and Kiara hesitated a fraction too long before placing her fingers lightly against his. His grip was warm, deliberate, his thumb brushing the inside of her wrist in a fleeting, calculated gesture.
"We were actually thinking," her father interjected, "that… perhaps you two should consider each other… as future partners. For life."
Abhimaan's lips curved into a slow, knowing smirk. His presence seemed to dominate the space around him, and Kiara instinctively straightened her posture.
The parents chatted for a bit longer, talking about work and family, before a pause fell over the conversation.
"Abhimaan, why don't you two go for a walk?" his father suggested with a gentle smile. "I'm sure you two have more to talk about without us old folks listening in".
"Yes," Kiara's father added, "Go on, get to know each other". Kiara's mother, mistaking her daughter's reaction for shyness, whispered encouragingly, "Don't be scared, dear. He's a wonderful young man. I can see you two… suit each other."
The parents smiled knowingly, leaving the young couple in a moment of intense silence. Alone now, the electricity between them crackled. Abhimaan's eyes darkened with desire, and Kiara felt an unfamiliar fluttering in her stomach.
Abhimaan got up smoothly and offered a hand to Kiara. "Shall we?" he asked, his eyes holding a hint of amusement.
Kiara took his hand and stood up. They moved to a secluded corner of the room. As they walked, she knew she was about to have a very interesting conversation.
Abhimaan took a step closer, his presence overwhelming yet magnetic. "Our parents clearly have plans for us."
Kiara gave a nervous laugh. "They always do." He turned slightly, looking down at her. "Don't you want me?" His voice was low, rich, and commanding. The words sent a thrill straight to Kiara's core.
She swallowed, feeling her cheeks heat up. "I... Yess."
Abhimaan took a step closer, and Kiara felt the heat of his body radiate toward her. The faintest brush of his shoulder against hers sent a shiver down her spine. "Have you always been this… captivating?" he asked, one corner of his mouth quirking into a teasing smile.
Kiara swallowed, cheeks burning. "I… I....." Abhimaan's gaze didn't waver. He circled her slowly, as if examining every detail: the way her hair fell over her shoulders, the curve of her neck, the way her chest rose and fell beneath the gown. Kiara felt exposed under his scrutiny, though nothing inappropriate had yet occurred.
"You're tense," he observed, leaning just close enough for her to feel the warmth of his breath against her ear. "Relax. Enjoy yourself."
"I… I am," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. Her fingers grazed the fabric of her gown, as if seeking comfort in the soft silk.
He let his hand brush lightly against hers while gesturing toward a quiet corner. "Shall we get away from all this noise?" he suggested. The heat in his gaze was undeniable, and Kiara felt a fluttering in her stomach.
As they walked toward the secluded lounge area, their hands brushed occasionally... each touch lingering a fraction longer than necessary. Kiara's breath hitched every time, caught between nervousness and a strange, thrilling anticipation.
Once they were alone, Abhimaan turned to her, leaning casually against the wall. "I have to admit," he murmured, his voice low and velvety, "I wasn't expecting to be this… intrigued by someone tonight."
Kiara's lips parted slightly, her pulse hammering. "And why is that?"
"Because," he said, stepping closer, closing the gap between them, "there's something about you… something that pulls me in." His hand brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, his fingers grazing her cheek. The touch was electric.
Kiara's eyes fluttered closed for a moment, savoring the warmth of his hand. When she opened them, he was even closer, the scent of his cologne intoxicating her senses.
"I should warn you," he whispered, his lips dangerously near hers, "I don't let go easily once I… want something."
Her heart raced. "And… what do you want ?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly, yet daring to flirt.
"Let me be clear," Abhimaan's eyes darkened, a low growl vibrating in his throat.
Without another word, he captured her lips in a searing kiss. It was slow at first, exploratory, testing boundaries, tasting curiosity and something primal.
Kiara melted against him, her hands instinctively rising to his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath the crisp fabric of his tuxedo. His hands found her waist, holding her firmly, pressing her closer as the kiss deepened, growing more urgent.
The world around them...the party, the parents, the expectations—vanished. All that existed was the heat between them, the shared rhythm of quickened breaths and racing hearts. Kiara's fingers tangled in his hair as he pulled her impossibly closer, his lips claiming hers with a confident dominance that made her knees weak.
When they finally broke apart for air, both were breathless, foreheads resting together, lips still dangerously close.
Abhimaan's dark gaze locked onto hers, filled with hunger, desire, and something undeniably possessive. "This… is just the beginning," he murmured. "I intend to make you mine...completely."
Kiara's lips curved into a shivering, knowing smile. "Then… show me."
His smirk deepened, and before she could react, he captured her lips again...this time with an intensity that promised fire, passion, and a story that had only just begun.
~~~~~
The music in the ballroom had softened into a slow, melodic hum, the flickering candlelight casting golden shadows across the guests' faces. Kiara lingered near the refreshments, her heart still racing from the first kiss with Abhimaan. Every time she glanced at him, standing a few feet away with that confident, predatory smirk, she felt warmth pooling low in her stomach.
Abhimaan's eyes met hers from across the room, dark and smoldering, a silent question lingering in the air: "Are you ready to be mine?"
Kiara swallowed hard, forcing herself to look away, but he didn't give her the chance. Within moments, he was at her side, leaning casually against the counter. "You're staring," he murmured, his voice smooth, teasing.
"I...what? No, I wasn't," she stammered, though the flush creeping up her neck betrayed her.
He smiled, slow and deliberate, brushing his fingers ever so slightly against hers as he handed her a glass of champagne. The contact was fleeting, but enough to send shivers down her spine. "You've got a very bad poker face, Kiara. I can see exactly what you're thinking."
Her pulse quickened. "I...I don't know what you mean," she whispered, though her eyes darted toward his lips without meaning to.
Abhimaan leaned in, lowering his voice to a playful growl. "Oh, I think you do know. You're imagining me… right here, right now." His thumb brushed lightly against her wrist, the touch lingering far longer than necessary.
Kiara's breath hitched. She wanted to pull back...but part of her wanted exactly what he was hinting at. "You're… impossible," she murmured, trying to sound annoyed, but her voice betrayed the tension rolling through her body.
"Maybe I like being impossible," he whispered, his lips dangerously close to her ear, his warm breath sending a shiver down her spine. He tilted his head slightly, letting the tip of his nose graze her hairline. "Maybe I like watching you squirm under my gaze."
Kiara shivered, and her hand instinctively clenched around her glass. "You're teasing me too much," she gasped.
"Am I?" His smirk deepened as he traced a finger along the curve of her waist, just brushing the side of her body...careful enough to tease, not to cross the line. "I'm just… helping you feel exactly what you're thinking."
Her lips parted, a mix of exasperation and desire. "Abhimaan…"
He pressed a finger gently against her lips, silencing her. "Shh… patience, baby. We've got the whole night. And believe me… when we finally… officially…" He let the words hang, dark and heavy, "it's going to be worth every second of waiting."
Kiara's chest rose and fell rapidly. The promise in his words was like fire licking at her skin, and she couldn't deny the rush of heat pooling between her legs.
Abhimaan leaned in, letting his lips brush hers...not a full kiss, just a teasing brush that made her knees weaken. "See?" he whispered against her lips, his hand sliding lower, brushing along her hipbone again, careful to tease but not cross the line. "Just a taste, Kiara. Just enough to make you ache for more."
She bit her lower lip, holding back a whimper. "You're… merciless," she whispered, a mixture of frustration and longing in her voice.
"Merciless?" He smirked, placing a thumb under her chin and lifting her face toward his. "I prefer thoroughly attentive. I want to know every inch of you, every thought, every shiver… but I don't take what isn't mine yet."
Her heart thumped wildly. His words, his presence, the deliberate closeness...it was maddening. She wanted to give in, to let him take her there and then...but the thought of their first real intimacy after marriage made her tremble with anticipation.
He lowered his forehead against hers, the warmth of his body enveloping her. "You're mine, Kiara. Every thought, every breath… and soon, everything else will be mine too."
Kiara closed her eyes, her pulse racing, and allowed herself to lean into him, savoring the teasing, the closeness, the forbidden fire that made her ache in ways she had never imagined.
Abhimaan's smirk returned, dark and knowing. "That was just a sample," he murmured. "Imagine what's coming after the wedding."
Kiara's fingers trembled slightly as they brushed against his chest. "I… I can't wait," she admitted, voice barely more than a whisper.
He chuckled, deep and low, before taking a step back, straightening his suit, and offering her a hand. "Patience, my dear. For now… let's dance."
And with that, the ballroom swallowed them back into the party, leaving a trail of heat, tension, and promise in their wake...a storm that was only beginning to brew.
The party had ended hours ago, the last guests departing with polite smiles and subtle glances. But Abhimaan and Kiara had not left yet. Instead, they found themselves in a quiet corner of his family's estate...a dimly lit room, the door gently clicking shut behind them.
Kiara's heart raced. Alone with him, away from the prying eyes of the ballroom, the earlier tension returned tenfold. Her hands trembled slightly as she smoothed the front of her dress, suddenly very aware of every inch of exposed skin.
Abhimaan's eyes raked over her, slow and deliberate, dark with desire. He closed the space between them in a single, effortless step, and Kiara felt the heat radiating from his body.
"You still think you can act shy in front of me?" he murmured, his voice low, dangerous, yet teasing. His hand brushed hers ever so slightly, just enough to make her pulse leap.
"I… I…" Kiara faltered, unable to form a coherent sentence under the weight of his gaze.
He smiled, a slow, knowing curve of his lips. "Don't fight it, Kiara. Don't fight me."
Before she could protest, he lifted her chin gently with one finger, forcing her to meet his eyes. The intensity of his gaze was overwhelming, possessive, demanding...and it made her knees weak.
Abhimaan leaned closer, brushing his lips along her jawline in a feather-light kiss, trailing down to her neck. Kiara shivered, pressing back against him instinctively. Every touch, every whisper of his breath across her skin, sent electricity racing through her veins.
"You taste like champagne," he murmured against her skin, his voice thick with amusement and desire. "Sweet, intoxicating… and mine."
Kiara's hands trembled as they reached up to rest on his chest. "Abhi…" she whispered, her voice quivering with a mix of frustration and longing.
He captured her lips in a teasing kiss, soft at first, just brushing, but lingering, testing her, making her ache for more. She gasped softly when his tongue teased hers, a spark igniting between them that neither could deny.
"Such a good girl…" he murmured against her lips, pulling back just slightly, leaving her breathless. "But not yet. Not fully. We have time for that… after the wedding."
Her body protested, every nerve screaming for more, but she nodded, trying to steady her racing pulse. "I… I can wait," she admitted, though the heat pooling low in her stomach told a different story.
Abhimaan smirked, sensing her struggle. He leaned in again, letting his lips hover against hers, brushing gently, teasing her without giving in. His hand traced slow, possessive lines down her arm, over her waist, and just under the curve of her hip.
"You feel it too, don't you?" he whispered. "The pull between us… the fire?"
Kiara could only nod, her lips parted in a silent gasp. "Yes… Abhi…"
He chuckled low in his throat, a sound that made her shiver. "Good. Then remember this feeling. Every shiver, every heat, every tremble… keep it with you. Because when I claim you properly, you won't even remember patience."
The heat between them was almost unbearable. Every brush of his fingers, every feather-light kiss left Kiara trembling, aching, and consumed with need. Yet the restraint in his touch....his deliberate control....made the anticipation almost unbearable.
Finally, he rested his forehead against hers, his breath mingling with hers. "Just a taste tonight, baby," he murmured. "Only a taste. But soon… everything will be mine. Every inch of you."
Kiara closed her eyes, letting the tension, the longing, and the thrill wash over her. The teasing, the smoldering touches, and the stolen kisses had left her breathless, aching, and craving the next moment...the one they had both been waiting for.
And as they stood there, in the quiet, dimly lit room, neither could deny it: the fire between them was far from extinguished. If anything, it had only begun to roar.
To be continued....
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