Page 3 of Mrs. Rathore

She rolled her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips, as she nudged the shot glass closer to me. “Aryan, please. Don’t bring your army discipline here. Tonight, you’re not a captain and I’m not a lieutenant in the Indian Army. We’re not in uniform. We’re not standing in formation. We’re just two people who’ve waited a decade for this moment. Let’s live it a little, hmm?”

I chuckled softly. Her words had a way of grounding me and lifting me at the same time.

“I would be really happy if, for just these two days, we forget we’re officers,” she added in a softer tone, “and just remember that we’re a couple, deeply in love, celebrating the last few days before becoming one.”

“Enjoy, baby. It’s our night.”

I couldn’t argue with that. I lifted the glass and threw the shot back in one go. The bitter burn hit my throat hard, making me wince.

“Shit! That’s strong.” I coughed, shaking my head.

Ira giggled, and before I could recover, she grabbed my hand and dragged me to the dance floor. The music thumped around us like a heartbeat, fast and relentless. Everyone turned as we joined the crowd, and a collective cheer rose. Some of our friends clapped, others whistled, and a few raised their glasses to us.

Ira moved like she was made for the rhythm. She was confident, wild, and free. I placed my hands on her waist, feeling the warmth of her skin through the thin fabric of her dress. Her eyes glistened as she looked at me like I was the only man in the universe.

God, she didn’t even know.

She didn’t know the way she filled every corner of my heart. How each beat of my life had been pulsing in sync with hers since the day we met. Ten years. A full decade of laughter, trials, arguments, letters during training, nights spent dreaming under the stars, and long conversations whispered between missions.

I met Ira when she was sixteen. I was eighteen. We were kids then. We were awkward, stubborn, and loud-mouthed teens in our school uniforms. But something sparked that first day. Something magnetic and impossible to shake off.

I thought I’d lose her when I joined officer training, thought our paths would naturally drift apart. But Ira surprised me because she’d cracked her CDS exams and entered the same training academy. I thought she would chase her modeling dreams, but no, she chose a path even harder. She chose duty. She chose the country. And I chose her all over again.

“Aryan…” she breathed, her voice dreamlike, her gaze softer than the moonlight.

I knew that look.

Without a word, I took her hand and led her through the crowd to a dimly lit hallway that opened off the dance floor. A quiet corner. No eyes. No music. Just us and the sound of our racing hearts.

I backed her gently against the wall and leaned in, capturing her lips with mine in a kiss that was more fire than oxygen. She gasped against my mouth, tangling her fingers in my hair as if she needed more than oxygen. I kissed her deeply, hungrily, like it was the last time.

God, I wanted her right then and there. My pulse pounded, my blood roared but I reminded myself: Ira deserved more. She was not just my desire but she was my destiny. My queen. And queens should never be rushed.

Still, the temptation clawed at me.

“Aryan,” she whispered, breaking the kiss, her voice husky and low. “Why do you have to be so damn handsome, so sexy… so tempting, huh? I can’t even resist you anymore.” Her fingers gripped my shirt, tugging me closer. “Can we just…?”

“Ssh,” I whispered, placing a finger on her lips. “We’ll wait. Just two more nights. You deserve to be cherished, Ira. Not claimed in a corner of a hall, half-drunk and reckless.”

Her eyes burned with frustration and affection. “You’re killing me,” she muttered.

I smiled, brushing her hair back. “We’ve waited ten years. We can wait two more days.”

She surprised me then her lips trailed down to my neck, and suddenly I gasped, taken off guard when her teeth sank gently into my skin.

“Ow!” I hissed.

She pulled back, smug, her lipstick slightly smeared. “Don’t you dare stop me, okay?”

I shook my head, laughing softly. “You are trouble.”

“And you love it,” she whispered, pressing another kiss to my cheek. “I can’t wait to share your name. I’ve dreamed about this for so long, Aryan. We were made for each other, you know that? There’s no one else. It’s always been you. It’ll only ever be you.”

Emotion bubbled in my chest like a wave. “I love you more than the whole universe,” she added.

I wrapped my arms around her, our foreheads touching. “And I love you more than the whole Milky Way.”

We laughed the way only two people in love could. The music from the club felt far away now, like we were in our own little bubble.

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