Page 70 of The Unwanted Husband
But she could not have what her mind and body craved so desperately and yet had to endure this suffocating and sinking feeling that she could not let loose her desires. It angered her that neither of them could move forward in spite of being adults and knowing what is right for them. It was too much risk but that just made her feel weak, like she had lost all control of her life, again.
When that thought hit, panic struck her. Her breathing became shallow, panic rising in her chest.
“Ashok,” she gasped, her hands clawing at the soft fabric of the t-shirt.
He was by her side in a split second. “Isha?”
“Ashok, I can’t…I can’t breathe.” She was suffocating physically.
Without hesitation, he moved closer, his hands gentle as he held her hands. “Hey, look at me,” he said softly. “Slow breaths.”
The calm and kindness in his voice made her cry, and she found herself leaning into his steady presence, finally allowing herself to break down completely. She had no idea why she had the urge to cry.
She let out a loud sob, unable to suppress her overwhelming emotions. The strongest one being thewant.
“Isha,” he hushed her softly as he wrapped his arms around her, sitting next to her on the bed.
But she couldn’t stop. The sobs came harder, her whole body shook as if years of suppressed anger poured out of her.
“This isn’t my life,” she choked out between gasps. “This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.” She had lived her life as per her rules and choices. It felt like everything had fallen apart at that moment.
“I know,” he said, and there was depth in his voice that made her look up at him through her tears. “It’s not your fault.”
His hands framed her face, his thumbs gently sliding away her tears off her cheeks. The tenderness in the gesture broke something inside her, and she leaned into his touch without thinking.
His jaw tightened, and for a moment she saw something flash across his features. “If it’s going to make you feel better, you can blame me for everything.”
The space between them seemed to shrink. She was acutely aware of how close she was to him, how his hands were still cupping her face, his dark eyes were looking at her likeshe was something precious rather than it being a part of an arrangement.
“What are we doing?” she gasped.
“I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice rough.
There were no other thoughts in her mind. There is just one thing she needed and she was done denying herself. “I want you.”
She felt his steel wall of resolve crumble as she pressed her lips to his, and she was overwhelmed by the intensity of his response. What started as a desperate need for clarification exploded into something that seemed to be consuming them both completely.
His hands tangled in her hair, tugging on it as he kissed her back with a hunger that matched her own. All the careful distance they’d maintained, all the polite formality of their arrangement, the shuttered feelings even after sharing moments of passion, all shattered in that moment.
“Isha,” he breathed against her lips like it was her last chance to say no as his hands were already reaching for the hem of the t-shirt she had on, his touch reverent as he freed her from the barrier.
“I want you,” she whispered back, her fingers running over his bare chest, the feel of his dark hair against her palms. “I don’t care about anything.”
She was overwhelmed by how right the moment felt. It had nothing to do with the marriage, not the arrangement, but the connection she felt between them that had nothing to do with legal documents or family expectations. It was raw, raging and real in a way that nothing else in her life had been for years.
When he pulled back to look at her, his eyes were dark with something that went deeper than desire.
“Isha,” he said, his voice strained. She could see the conflict in his expression. He was battling the want, his pragmatic side warring with emotion. But she could also see something else there, something that looked dangerously dark.
Sheer attraction and deep desire.
“I want you,” she repeated, like she wanted him to know how badly she wanted him.
He let out a groan, burying his face into her neck as if admitting to the same.
Their admission hung between them, terrifying yet absolutely true and clear.
“So do I,” he groaned against the skin on her neck.
