Aanya told herself she wouldn't go.
She stayed in her room, wrapped in silence, holding onto her pride like a thread. But threads snap.
And hers did… the moment her phone lit up again.
"If you're still awake, come over. I won't ask again."—R.K.
It wasn't an apology.
It wasn't romance.
It was a command.
And she hated how much her body wanted to obey it.
—She knocked once.
The door opened before her knuckles touched again.
Riaan stood there in a black shirt and joggers. No tie. No armor. Just sin.
Neither of them said a word.
She stepped inside.
The door shut behind her with a final click.
"You said it was a mistake," she whispered.
He looked at her like a man starving.
"It was," he said. "Because I don't deserve you."
She blinked, throat tight.
"But I still want you," he added, stepping closer. "I still burn for you, Aanya."
Her breath caught.
"Then don't love me," she said, voice trembling."Just… make me forget."
That was all it took.
He slammed her against the wall with a kiss so deep, she forgot her name.
No teasing. No holding back.Just months of frustration and need crashing into each other.
His mouth was everywhere—jaw, throat, collarbone—like he needed to taste the pieces of her he'd tried to deny.
Her nails dug into his shoulders as he lifted her, carried her to the couch like she weighed nothing.
"Say it," he growled against her skin."Say you need this."
"I do," she gasped. "I need you."
He ripped her top open, lips trailing fire down her chest.Every touch was punishment and apology.Every kiss, a confession he couldn't say out loud.
And when he finally took her again, harder than before — it wasn't soft.
It was desperate.
Possessive.
Addictive.
And when she cried his name, broken and breathless, he buried his face in her neck and whispered—
"I don't know how to let you go."