PROLOGUE

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"Look over there," she said suddenly, her voice tight with mischief, eyes glinting as she pointed past him.

Ekansh didn't even glance. He just folded his arms, cocked a brow, and looked at her like she was a puzzle he'd already solved.

"You think I fall for childish tricks, Ruhanika?"

She smirked. "I was trying to distract you."

His eyes flickered, amused and unreadable.

"You think you can distract a man who's been watching you all night?"

She froze, pulse skipping. The mood shifted.

Before she could respond, he stepped forward. Not fast. Not aggressive. Just certain. The kind of certainty that pressed against her skin before he even touched her.

"You've been avoiding me," he murmured, voice smooth, laced with something darker. "You think staying quiet is safer. That silence is protection."

Her breath hitched. "Maybe it is."

"No," he said, closing the gap. "It's an invitation."

She tried to move, but his hand came up-not to touch, just to hover near her cheek. Close enough to feel the warmth. The weight. The control.

"I kissed you," he said, voice like velvet against steel, "because I wanted to."

A pause. A wicked curl of his lips.

"And because you wanted me to."

Her cheeks flushed crimson, but her eyes snapped to his with fire. "You're wrong."

"Am I?" he asked, gaze narrowing slightly. "You didn't push me away. You gasped like I'd stolen your breath... but your eyes begged for more."

Her fists clenched. "You're crossing lines now."

Ekansh stepped even closer, his body barely grazing hers. The tension crackled between them-undeniable, suffocating.

"Then stop me."

She said nothing. Couldn't. Her lips parted, her breath shallow.

He leaned in, his voice brushing against her skin like a secret.

"You say no, Ruhanika... but your silence tells me everything."

Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. Still, she didn't step away.

His fingers finally brushed her hair aside, knuckles grazing her jaw-slow, reverent, dangerous.

"You're not afraid of me," he said, his tone shifting from teasing to terrifyingly sincere.

"You're afraid of how much you want me. How much you like the way I take control."

She gasped, caught between the urge to slap him and the craving to close the distance he hadn't erased.

"You're sick," she whispered.

"And yet," he murmured, eyes locking with hers, voice sinking into her bones-

"you keep standing right here. Breathing me in. Waiting."

Her lips trembled. "Waiting for what?"

He leaned closer, lips nearly touching hers-but didn't kiss her.

"For me to do it again."

And just like that-he stepped back. Left her trembling. Wanting.

The silence he left behind was louder than anything he could've said.

{{{{}}}}

---

"As long as you're with me, Ekansh..." Ruhanika sighed dramatically, flopping down on the couch like a dying princess, "...the world makes sense. Birds sing, the sun shines, and even my Wi-Fi starts working again."

Ekansh raised a brow from across the room. "Is that your poetic way of saying you missed me for three hours?"

"Three and a half," she corrected, flipping her hair. "But who's counting?"

He walked over, arms crossed, clearly amused. "Oh, so now I'm better than your Wi-Fi?"

"Don't push it," she warned with a playful glare. "You still buffer emotionally."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Alright, drama queen. Tell me this-what happens when I hug you?"

She blinked. "Hug? As in full contact?"

"Yeah," he smirked, stepping closer. "Like this."

He wrapped an arm around her waist without warning. She let out a squeak that could've startled birds two towns over.

"EKANSH! Warn a girl before you launch an emotional assault!"

"Answer the question." He grinned. "What happens to your heart rate now?"

"I don't know-somewhere between cardiac arrest and Bollywood slow motion," she muttered, trying to hide her grin.

He tilted his head. "You sure it's not just... you falling in love with me a little more every time?"

"Pfft," she scoffed, trying to wiggle out of his arms. "I only fall in love with chocolate. And maybe-maybe-with you when you pay for snacks without grumbling."

He leaned in, lips near her ear. "Be honest, Ruhanika. Why are we like this?"

She paused, biting her lip thoughtfully.

"You want the real reason?"

"Yes," he said seriously.

She looked up at him with fake innocence.

"Because I was dropped on my head as a child. And you? You're clearly the result of expired coffee."

He stared at her, deadpan. "So romantic."

"Fine," she grinned. "You want something meaningful?"

"Please."

She took a deep breath, stepped closer, leaned in as if about to whisper something earth-shattering...

And then said, very seriously:

"Kiss me."

He blinked. "Really?"

She nodded. "Yes. On the forehead. Like a good boy. This is a PG-rated moment."

Ekansh groaned. "Why do I fall for the only woman who treats me like a Disney side character?"

She grinned, poking his chest.

"Because, darling, even gangsters need emotional support and sarcastic girlfriends."

---

{{{{}}}}

---

"I'm sorry, Ekansh," I whispered, the words trembling out of me, laced with guilt and something deeper I didn't want to name.

He didn't blink.

He just stared at me-like the apology tasted worse than betrayal.

His voice came low, sharp, and full of heat.

"I hate hearing that word from you, babygirl."

Not angry. Just... lethal.

Like something uncoiling beneath his calm surface.

"You did it," he said, taking one slow step forward. "And now... you'll have to face the consequences."

Before I could move, before I could even breathe, he closed the distance between us. The air thickened, every inch of him flooding my senses-his scent, his presence, the tension radiating off him like static before lightning strikes.

I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for his touch. But it never came.

Silence.

Thick. Punishing. Intimate.

And when I dared to open my eyes, he was already there-his gaze locked onto mine, fire burning behind every calculated line of his face.

He wasn't touching me. No, that would've been mercy.

He was studying me.

His eyes trailed over every part of my face like he was burning the memory into his skin.

Slow. Intense. Devouring.

And God help me... I liked it.

I tried to speak-tried to pull back from the edge of whatever this was-but he moved first.

Swift. Sure.

He pulled me into him, one arm around my waist, the other sliding up my back with possessive grace. I felt caged. Anchored. Owned.

"You don't get to run from this," he breathed against my ear, each word sliding under my skin like a blade wrapped in silk.

"This... is your punishment."

And then, he dropped to his knees.

Not in surrender. In domination.

I gasped as he pressed a kiss against my inner thigh-slow, deliberate, dangerous. His lips lingered, burning through the fabric, branding me with a touch that was almost reverent... but undeniably claimed.

"Ekansh..." I choked out, the sound barely human-desire and fear tangled in my throat.

He looked up from his place below me, gaze dark and utterly in control.

"Shhh."

His voice was a command wrapped in affection.

"You belong to me in this moment. Just feel it."

His fingers ghosted up my sides, his touch firm, grounding me-not with force, but with power. The kind that didn't ask. It just was.

Every inch between us hummed with tension, the room thick with things we wouldn't say.

It wasn't just about punishment.

It wasn't even about touch.

It was about control. Submission.

Craving.

It was about what he could make me feel without ever fully taking.

And what I was willing to give... even as I told myself not to.

Because the scariest part?

I didn't want him to stop.

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