Page 87 of Drunk On Love
“I said, I can’t sleep with Nancy… she snores,” I repeated.
He sighed, running a hand through his damp hair, shaking his head as though I’d just announced I wanted to move the moon closer to Earth. “Kiara…”
“I won’t disturb you, I promise.”
He opened the door wider without a word, rubbing the back of his neck like he was debating whether to let me in or pull me straight into his arms. He pinched the bridge of his nose, looking like he was deciding the structural integrity of the next skyscraper on Jupiter. And then, without a word, he moved aside, making way for me to enter.
But he still looked distant, somehow far away in his thoughts.
I slipped into the room, wearing my red lacy sleepwear—short, cute, and (I’d like to think) a little stunning. As I passed the long mirror, I caught sight of the dark circles under my eyes. My feet seemed to move on their own, drawing me closer until I was standing there, staring at my reflection—sleepy, weary, puffed eyes.
I lightly touched the skin beneath them, sighing when I noticed Manav’s reflection in the mirror, his gaze fixed on me.
I murmured. “I look like a panda…”
He took a few slow steps toward me, stopping just behind me, confusion etched across his features. “No, you don’t,” he said softly.
I let out a breath, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “My body doesn’t handle stress well, I guess. It makes me look… animalistic.”
His hands slid to my neck—warm, steady—and before I could protest (or even think), he began massaging the tensemuscles there with gentle pressure. The sensation was so blissful that I let out a sound suspiciously close to a porn star.
“Careful, Cheeseball,” his eyes flicked to meet mine in the mirror. “I could get addicted to those sounds.”
A soft chuckle slipped from me as I savored the slow release of every knot in my shoulders. Whatever magic his fingers were weaving, it was sending tingles across my skin, and I realized I might not survive the night if he kept this up.
Holy mother of everything, yes. I love this man—his fingers, his abs, his mouth, his tongue, his smile, his heart, his neck, his cooking, his kisses… and especially that little frown he gets when he’s concentrating. Every piece of him.
His fingers continued their unhurried, skillful dance across my shoulders, and it felt like every knot of tension I’d ever carried was slowly unraveling beneath his touch. My eyes fluttered shut, and for a moment, I forgot how to breathe.
He leaned in, against the curve of my ear. “You okay?” he asked softly.
I nodded, managing a faint smile. “Better than okay,” I whispered, aware that my cheeks were probably the color of ripe cherries. The reflection in the mirror showed a sleepy, flushed version of me—yet somehow, I didn’t hate it. Not with him standing there, hands firmly on my shoulders.
“You know,” he murmured, “Pandas are adorable.”
I let out a small laugh. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr. Oberoi.”
“Who said I’m trying to get anywhere?” His lips curved into that dangerous half-smile as he leaned down slightly, his breath brushing against my ear. “Maybe I just like seeing you relaxed for once.”
I swallowed hard, my heart thumping in response. “Well… whatever you’re doing, don’t stop.”
His eyes locked onto mine through the mirror, and for a moment, everything else disappeared. The tiredness, the stress, the dark circles—they were all eclipsed by the way he looked at me. Like, I was the most mesmerizing thing he’d ever seen.
“Cheeseball,” he said softly, his voice laced with something I couldn’t quite place. “You have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?”
I turned in his arms until I was facing him, catching our reflection in the mirror. The sight of us intertwined sent a fresh surge of warmth coursing through me. “Your fingers…” I whispered against his lips. “They know exactly how to make me feel alive.”
“Yeah?” He murmured, his tone both playful and dangerously seductive. His hands tightened their hold on my waist, pulling me closer until there was no space left between us. His eyes flickered to the mirror for a brief moment before locking back onto mine. “Let me show you just how much more they can do.”
My mind blanked for a moment—then I laughed, burying my face in his neck, unable to contain it. He chuckled softly, too, and the sound rumbled through his chest, vibrating against me. “I missed you…” He murmured somewhere near my neck.
“Because you couldn’t find anyone else to eat all the amazing food you cook?” I asked, turning slightly so we both faced the mirror now, side by side.
“No…” He said gently, sliding his arms more securely around my waist. “I missedyou. I missed holding you…”
He nuzzled into the curve between my shoulder and collarbone, and I nearly melted at the heat of his breathagainst my skin. My heart pounded as his fingers pressed lightly, guiding me closer until my back was flush with his chest. His lips grazed up my neck, and he pushed aside my hair to plant open-mouthed kisses on my shoulder. I gasped, my body instinctively arching forward, but he steadied me with an arm around my waist.
My lacy sleepwear bunched beneath his hand as it drifted lower. His fingertips paused at the delicate line of my inner thigh. His breath caught, and his voice, when it came, was raspy with need. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”