Page 93 of Lawfully Yours
She bit down on her lower lip, trying to silence the heat building inside her, but when the ache became too much, she shifted slightly, pressing her legs together in a quiet, desperate attempt to soothe the need. But Kushal’s fingers didn’t stop. Maybe he realised she was awake, and maybe he liked that too. His hand kept moving, slowly, climbing higher until his fingers finally touched her where she ached for him, over the silk of her panties.
Just as they did, Arundhati’s eyes flew open. She jolted upright in bed, her breath shallow and heart racing. She turned to the other side of the bed, which was empty. The crumpled sheets were still warm, but there was no sign of him. So, all that she saw, felt just now, his hands on her… was her naughty dream?
He must have woken up earlier and slipped back to his room. But damn! It had felt so real that her body still ached for him, humming with leftover desire. And now, wide awake, she didn’t know how to quiet the longing that clung to her skin.
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Kushal stood below the cold shower, bracing both palms against the fogged-up tiles, his chest rising and falling as he struggled to steady his breath. Even this ice-cold water hammering down on him wasn’t enough to quiet the storm building inside him.
He had no one to blame but himself. He never should’ve gone to her room again. Never should’ve slid under the covers, knowing she’d still be wearing that soft, clingy nightie…the kind that had burned itself into his memory the night before. Just holding her was never going to be enough.He wanted more.
It took a self-control of steel for him to keep his fingers and lips in check throughout the night.
He’d tried going back to sleeping alone, but after that first night in Dalhousie, with her body curled against his and the connecting door left slightly open like an invitation, he couldn’t resist. So last night, he went back. But sleep was the last thing he got.
Every time she shifted, her soft, glorious, rounded bottom pressed against him; it drove his self-control to the edge and kept him aching and hard throughout the night. Even the simplest thing, like watching her breathe beside him, had been enough to turn the night into torture for Kushal.
But this morning? That was the breaking point. She had backed into him so firmly that there wasn’t even space for air. He woke up with a morning wood, aching and needy, and was one second away from giving in. If he hadn’t rushed back to his room when he did, his restraint would’ve snapped. He would’ve wokenher with his mouth on her skin, tasting every inch of the softness he’d been dying to claim.
Hence, a cold shower was the only option. Now, standing under the stream, Kushal opened his eyes and forced himself to focus. He needed control both mentally and physically. Something to divert his mind.
Yeah… he recalled he had to check if his contact had sent over Noyonika’s call records. Her two-day group trip was still on schedule, and she was due back tomorrow morning. That would be the window when he and Arundhati could finally confront her.
He stepped out of the shower, water still clinging to his skin, a towel slung low around his waist. But the moment he entered the room, he stopped cold.
Arundhati was standing there in his room. In that same lilac nightie. Holdinghisphone. Probably, she had come to return it to him as he had left it last night on her bedstand.
Their eyes met. She didn’t mean to, but her gaze dropped to his bare chest, then lower, to where the towel clung loosely to his hips and the edge of his waistband peeked out beneath it.
It took every ounce of restraint Kushal had not to close the space between them. Not to grab her, lift her into his arms, feel her legs wrap around his waist, and carry her straight to bed.
Instead, he cleared his throat and forced those thoughts and visuals into the background…for now.
She too looked disoriented, like she’d walked into a storm she hadn’t prepared for. Trying to recover, she cleared her throat too.
“Your phone kept buzzing with notifications. I figured it might be important.”
Kushal stepped forward and took it from her without a word. His fingers brushed hers, briefly, as he took the phone from her.
“We can’t keep doing this, Kushal,” she suddenly said.
He paused as she continued.
“You can’t just show up in my room like that and expect to sleep next to me,” she continued, arms folded tightly across her chest. “The first night was an exception. But last night? No. That wasn’t okay.”
He didn’t respond. He just tossed the phone onto the bed with a dull thud, then turned to face her, his jaw tightening with half-provoked anger. Water still glistened along the curve of his collarbone as he replied.
“Fine,” he said. “Tonight, I won’t come to your room.”
She let out a shaky breath, already sensing the trap he was setting. Her eyes narrowed, bracing for the other shoe to drop.
And it did.
“Tonight,” he said, stepping closer, lowering his voice just enough to let it slide under her skin, “you come to mine.”
Her glare was immediate, but he saw through it. The fire in her eyes was performance. It was once again her defence, not real anger. She was flustered, thrown off balance. Like maybe a part of her wanted exactly what he was offering.
If she truly wanted him gone, she wouldn’t be standing there fidgeting with the hem of her nightie, her fingers nervously toying with the fabric like her body couldn’t decide if it wanted to cover up or be seen.
