Aayat's bare feet slapped against the cold stone, a frantic rhythm echoing in the cavernous halls. Her breath hitched, each gasp a jagged tear in the heavy silence. Anirudh's shadow, long and menacing, stretched before her, then swallowed her whole. A powerful arm snaked around her waist, lifting her, pinning her against his chest. Her struggles were futile, a bird caught in a falcon's grip. He carried her back to their chamber, a gilded cage where velvet drapes muffled the outside world.
He dropped her onto the plush rug, the impact jarring her bones. Her eyes, wide and pleading, met his. "Please, Anirudh," she whispered, her voice a fragile tremor. "Let me go."
A muscle twitched in his jaw. He knelt, his gaze burning into hers. "Go? Where would you go, Aayat? What would you do?" His voice, usually a silken caress, now held a sharp edge. "You are mine. Always."
"I can't… I can't live like this," she choked, tears stinging her eyes. "I need… freedom."
He laughed, a low, humorless sound that reverberated through the opulent room. "Freedom? You have all the freedom you need, right here. Your every whim catered to, your every desire fulfilled." He reached out, a possessive hand tracing the line of her jaw. "Except one, it seems. The desire to escape *me*."
She flinched away, her skin crawling under his touch. "You don't understand. This isn't a life, Anirudh. It's… it's a prison."
His eyes narrowed, losing their glimmer of amusement. "A prison? You wound me, my queen. I thought I offered you a kingdom." He rose, pacing slowly, his form casting long, shifting shadows. "Do you remember Ishika?"
Aayat's breath hitched. Her best friend, her confidante, her only link to a life before Anirudh. "What about her?" The words were barely audible.
He stopped, turning to face her, a cruel smile playing on his lips. "Ishika. A sweet girl. So loyal. So trusting." He paused, letting the implication hang heavy in the air. "It would be a shame if anything… untoward… were to happen to her. Wouldn't it?"
Aayat stared, horror blooming in her chest. "No. You wouldn't."
"Wouldn't I?" He raised an eyebrow, his gaze unwavering. "Try me, Aayat. Try to push me away again. See what happens to your precious Ishika."
Her defiance crumbled. The fight drained from her body, leaving her limp and defeated. "You win," she whispered, the words tasting like ash. "You always win."
A triumphant glint entered his eyes. He leaned in close, his voice a low growl. "Remember, I told you. Each time you try to get on my nerves, you lose a right. Running away? That was your biggest mistake." He reached for her, his fingers brushing against her cheek. "As punishment, I take away the right that I will lip kiss you only when you allow. Now, I can do that every time I want. And you have to respond to it."
He pressed his lips to her forehead, a soft, lingering touch that felt anything but gentle. Then his mouth moved, a slow, deliberate descent. He kissed her eyelids, the faint flutter of her lashes against his skin. He kissed the curve of her cheek, his tongue flicking out, tasting her skin. He moved to her earlobe, sucking gently, sending a shiver down her spine. A low moan escaped her lips as his mouth trailed down her neck, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin just below her ear. He lingered there, leaving a hot, throbbing mark. His lips moved lower, tracing the delicate line of her collarbone, a whisper of a kiss that promised more. Her body tensed, a strange mixture of fear and a burgeoning heat coiling in her belly.
Finally, his lips found hers. He didn't ask, he simply took. His mouth pressed firm against hers, demanding, possessive. He sucked on her lower lip, then her upper, a slow, deliberate claiming. His tongue flicked out, tracing the seam of her closed lips. She kept them shut, a last vestige of resistance.
"Kiss me back, Aayat," he murmured against her mouth, his voice a low command.
"Or Ishika suffers."
The threat, cold and sharp, pierced through the haze of sensation. Her lips parted, a small, involuntary gasp escaping. His tongue plunged in, hot and insistent, tangling with hers. She hesitated for a fraction of a second, then, a desperate need to protect Ishika overriding everything else, she responded. Her tongue met his, a tentative dance that quickly escalated. He groaned, a deep, guttural sound, as she began to kiss him back, truly kiss him.
His hands tangled in her hair, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss. Her own hands, almost without conscious thought, found their way to his shoulders, gripping the fabric of his tunic. The kiss grew wilder, hungrier. His tongue explored every corner of her mouth, sucking, swirling, demanding. A wet, shlicking sound filled the small space between them. Her breath came in ragged gasps as he devoured her mouth, his lips bruising hers with their intensity. He broke the kiss, only to trail his mouth down her neck again, leaving a trail of fiery kisses and soft bites. A low moan rumbled in her throat as his lips returned to hers, this time with a fervent passion that stole her breath.
They fell back onto the plush rug, a tangle of limbs and desperate kisses. His hands tore at her garments, the silk ripping with a soft hiss. Her own fingers, emboldened by the rising heat, fumbled with the fastenings of his tunic. The room filled with the sounds of their ragged breathing, the wet sounds of their mouths, and the soft rustle of discarded clothes. He stripped her bare, his eyes devouring her body, leaving a fresh trail of hickeys and marks.
The moon, a silent observer, cast long, silvery beams through the window, illuminating their entwined forms. Eventually, exhaustion claimed them. Aayat lay sprawled beside him, her body a canvas of his possession, hickeys blooming like dark flowers on her pale skin. Her eyes, heavy with sleep and a lingering dread, closed. He pulled her closer, his arm a heavy weight across her waist, his breath warm against her neck. She was almost without clothes, the soft fabric of a single slip clinging to her, a stark contrast to the raw, flushed skin beneath. The scent of him, musk and something distinctly male, clung to her, a constant reminder of her captivity.