Page 43 of Entangled Vows (Destined Diaries #2)

Vikram moved in, slow but sure, his looming presence consuming every corner of the space between them. His gaze never wavered, his silence saying more than words ever could. She stayed just as quiet, caught in the spell of the moment.

He reached for her, his touch light but firm, and turned her gently until her back met the cool, hard wood of the door.

Then he stepped in, closing the space between them, invading her personal bubble.

One hand came to rest flat against the door beside her head, while the other lifted to her face, his fingers grazing her cheek with a touch that was impossibly tender.

His palm settled on her waist with quiet possession, as if he had every right to hold her like that.

His touch seared her skin, she arched instinctively, drawn by his warmth. In that moment, he was all that mattered. The silence between them throbbed, their breaths tangling in the charged space. She lifted her chin to meet his eyes.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she whispered.

Vikram’s mouth curved into a slow, knowing smirk. “Because I’ve pictured you like this for years. And now you’re finally mine.”

The gravity of that confession hit her like a blow.

“Don’t,” she breathed out. “You hated me.”

His voice dropped, calm but cutting. “I never hated you. You hated me. What I hated… was the way you looked at my brother. I hated that you gave him what I wanted for myself.”

Her throat constricted. “Vikram…”

“Momo,” he said her name like a vow.

She hesitated. Her heart hammered, and she could no longer hold on to the truth.

“I never hated you,” she said. “I just hated how convinced you were that I liked Suraj. You were too blind to see what was right in front of you.”

“And what was I supposed to see?”

Her lips parted, the words tumbling out. “That all this time… it wasn’t him.”

His jaw tensed. “Then who the fuck was it?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous. “Tell me, and I will erase every trace of him from your mind, body, and soul.”

She didn’t blink. “It was always you.”

Vikram froze. Tension rippled through him like a wire pulled tight.

“What the fuck are you saying?”

“I had a huge crush on you for years,” she admitted, her voice breaking. Then, a steely glint entered her eyes, and her expression hardened. “And then it turned into anger,” she spat. “Because I saw you fucking that bimbo girlfriend of yours on my eighteenth birthday.”

He blinked in confusion. “What?”

“I was going to confess about my feelings that night...” Her voice cracked.

“Instead, you brought that… that absolute tramp of a girlfriend to my party, and then had the audacity to fuck her in my backyard. I saw you with my own eyes, lost in the throes of passion, and all I could think of was yanking her away from you and throwing her off a cliff. And then… I wanted to punch you, just for thinking about anyone else but me.”

Her breathing came in ragged gasps, as she finally unleashed all the pent-up anger she had been holding in. And before she knew it, hot tears streamed down her cheeks.

Vikram moved closer, totally stunned.

He said softly, “Hey, hey... baby dragon, no tears now.”

His voice was full of tenderness as he leaned in and brushed his mouth gently against her cheek, licking away the tears she couldn’t hide. She gasped at the contact, her eyes going wide. She shoved at his chest, but he caught her wrist gently and held her in place.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, voice thick. “I swear I didn’t know. If I had known what you felt, if I had even guessed… I would have never touched anyone else.”

“I don’t believe you.” Her fingers curled around his wrist, her anger flickering under the intensity of his gaze.

“Jealousy looks good on you, Momo.” Vikram kissed her forehead and pressed butterfly kisses down her cheek to her neck. “So, you always had a thing for me, huh?” he asked again, quieter now, his eyes still locked on hers.

She nodded, staring into his eyes boldly. “Yes. It was so not Suraj. It was only you.”

His lips tilted into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “That’s going to be a problem.”

“Why?”

He stepped closer, his voice a velvety whisper. “Because now that I know, I’m going to make damn sure it never goes away. I will ruin you for anyone else. No one else gets to have you. Not even a fucking glance.”

He claimed her lips in a rough kiss. His kiss was hard and fast—possessive, almost punishing, and yet promising.

It was anything but gentle. It was pure, unadulterated hunger.

Years of restraint finally snapped, like a taut string is suddenly clipped.

She gasped, but he only pulled her tighter.

His one hand slid to her waist, dragging her flush against him, while the other tangled in her hair, locking her in place as he devoured her mouth.

The cold, hard door pressed into her back.

Her knees buckled, and her hands grabbed his jacket, wrinkling the fabric as she melted into him.

His grip on her hip tightened, and she could feel his heart pounding against her.

Mahika gasped, her fingers threading through his hair.

A soft moan escaped her lips as he pulled away and trailed kisses down her throat.

“Tell me you want this,” Vikram rasped against her collarbone. His breath was hot, his lips grazing her skin like a prayer laced with sin.

“Yes,” she whimpered.

She pulled back just enough to meet his eyes.

He looked unhinged, and she fucking loved it.

She didn’t use words; instead, she reached for the lapels of his jacket, her fingers working with shaky urgency as she pushed it off his shoulders.

He shrugged out of it without breaking eye contact, letting it fall to the floor.

Then her fingers went to the buttons of his shirt, fumbling slightly, but determined nevertheless.

One by one, she undid them, revealing hot, golden skin and hard, sculpted lines underneath.

Vikram let out a low exhale, watching her every move like a predator holding himself back from pouncing.

When the last button was undone, he peeled the shirt off in one smooth motion and flung it across the room.

She ran her palms over his broad chest, which burned beneath her touch.

Her nails grazed the ridges of his abdomen, and he shuddered, his muscles tightening under her caress.

“Mahika…” he warned, the sound half-growl as he held off her hands and stopped her.

His hands found the zipper at the side of her dress, and he paused.

His eyes searched hers, as if asking for permission.

She gave a tiny nod, and that was all he needed.

Slowly, he tugged the zipper down. The soft fabric peeled away from her skin, slipping from her shoulders, down her torso, and pooling at her feet.

Vikram stepped back a fraction, just enough to look at her.

And what he saw knocked the breath out of him.

She stood before him in a strapless push-up bra, the cups dipping low enough to make his vision blur.

It was paired with a lace thong that wrapped her hips like it was made to tempt him.

The sinful shade of purple against her flushed skin…

the way her hair spilled over her shoulders in soft waves…

the dazed fire in her eyes… Holy Fuck. Vikram swore under his breath.

“You’re so damn beautiful.”

His voice came out hoarse, almost reverent, but his eyes…

they burned darker, wild with hunger. Then, with a low growl, he stepped in and lifted her effortlessly, his hands gripping her waist as he pressed her back against the wall.

Her body moulded to his, soft curves colliding with hard muscle, her chest rising against his as the air thickened between them.

She let out a breathless gasp, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, drawing him closer.

The heat of her core brushed against the hard, unmistakable evidence of his arousal, and her body reacted before her mind could catch up, sending a jolt of raw sensation through her.

His hand slid up and cupped her jaw, tilting her face so she couldn’t look anywhere else but into his eyes.

They blazed with possession, with a desire so fierce it made her skin flush and her breath come faster.

“Can you feel the effect you have on me?” he murmured, his voice a dark mix of gravel and silk. “Because I’ve never fucking wanted anyone the way I want you right now.”

His tongue trailed down her neck to the frantic pulse at her throat, then dipped across the swell of her breasts. She moaned, wild and undone.

“Do you have any idea what your little nightly stunts have been doing to me all these days?” he rasped. “Strutting around in those barely-there negligees, those sexy satin blouses, wearing tight skirts that hugged your ass like a fucking dream at work. You think I didn’t notice?”

He pulled away, and she almost whined at the loss of contact.

“Every time you bit your lip, rolled those gorgeous eyes, or walked past me with that fucking sway in your hips... you weren’t just teasing me, sweetheart. You were driving me straight to the edge. You were literally wrecking my sanity.”

Her breath hitched. “Maybe that’s exactly what I wanted.”

“Oh yeah?” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “Well, congratulations, wifey. You succeeded. I couldn’t take my eyes off you. I couldn’t stop thinking about dragging you into the nearest room and stripping you bare… just like this.”

His hands glided down her neck and cupped her breasts, and she instinctively leaned into his touch, craving more.

“I wanted to touch you. Claim you. Make you forget your own name.”

Her skin flamed at his words, every nerve ending alight with need.

“And now that I finally have you like this…” He leaned in, his lips ghosting over her ear. “I’m going to make good on every filthy thought I’ve had about you, Mahika. Every damn one.”

∞∞∞