Page 39 of Married in Vengeance

“Ram?” Aadhya’s confused voice halted him in his tracks. “Where are you going? Come back. We didn’t finish.”

He kept his back to her, shame, fury, hurt coursing through him. “We’re finished Aadhya.”

It was all he said before he went into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. He turned the shower on and stepped beneath the icy rain pelting out of the showerhead. He allowed the water to cleanse him, his eyes closed as he took his throbbing length in his fist.

“Why Aadhya?” he whispered, the words washed away from his lips by the deluge of water. “Why?”

Twenty-Two

AADHYA

She staredat the bathroom door as it swung shut behind the man’s bare butt. Sexy, toned, annoying as hell.

What the actual fuck was going on here?

Aadhya threw the sheet she was clutching to her away and pushed out of the bed. She slammed the bathroom door open and strode in, her angry gaze going immediately to a soaked Ram, tense muscles bunched as he braced himself against the wall, one hand fisted around the throbbing length between his legs.

“Something I can help with?” Aadhya asked, her voice coming out soaked in need.

Ram’s head shot up, his eyes blazing with a desire that sent a shiver through her. When he looked at her like that, she could believe that he saw nothing but her.

Ram closed his eyes almost like the sight of her was unbearable, turning away from her to face the wall, both hands now braced against the wall.

“Get out.”

And when he said stuff like that, she could believe he hated nothing and no one like he did her.

“No.”

Ram’s back muscles tensed but he didn’t look at her. She stepped closer, watching his muscles get impossibly tighter with each step she took.

“Aadhya-“

“No.” She stepped into the shower cubicle, pressing her front against the wet, naked back he kept showing her.

Ram’s head dropped, his surrender filling her with a strange wave of despair. She didn’t want him to give in to his desire for her. She wanted him to embrace it.

She kissed his shoulder, her teeth closing on the muscle there. A shudder rippled through his body. Before she could make another move, he whipped around, one arm going around her waist and anchoring her more solidly to him.

His mouth crashed down on hers, an inferno of need and emotion that drowned out all coherent thought. Aadhya tunneled her fingers through his hair, clenching and tugging hard enough to have him gasping against her mouth. He devoured her, an endless free fall into sensation that was a bottomless pit she’d never climb out of.

He wrenched his mouth from hers, spinning her around until her front was pressed against the cool tiles, water cascading down the two of them. One hand roughly nudged her legs apart even as another gripped her hip, holding her in place.

He entered her with one swift stroke, filling her until it felt like she would never again know where he ended and she began. A hand fisted in the wet, tangled mass of her hair, pulling her head back for a brief, bruising kiss. And then he began to move.

Pleasure built, mindless and chaotic, a frantic need that she was desperate to both feel forever and yet, also to have end. Ram thrust into her, silently, ferociously, his every move an intensely possessive brand on the very fabric of her being.

His head dropped to her shoulder as he pounded into her, one arm wrapped around her front to keep her from hurting herself against the wall. Aadhya’s world exploded, her core coming apart in a burst of sensation that left her drowning, gasping for a breath that she feared would never come.

Ram followed her over the precipice a heartbeat later, his hoarse, hot breath rattling against her cheek as he slumped against her pushing her into the cold, tiled wall. Her breasts pressed up against the chill of the tiles as the blazing heat of him sandwiched her on the other side.

His forehead pressed into her shoulder, eyes clenched tightly shut. Aadhya reached back to lace her fingers through the wet, rough silk of his hair.

He broke away from her with a muttered curse, his eyes coming up to meet hers, haunted and wounded.

“Ram,” she murmured. “What is going on? If you tell me what the problem is, maybe I could help.”

“You are the problem.”

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