𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐭�...

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Tere saath har pal,
ek nayi kahani ban jaati ha

-Lavika's POV-

The house was glowing with sunlight and soft music.

I twirled on the marble floor of the living room, hair flying, arms stretched wide, completely free.

Free from pain.
Free from cramps.
Free from mood swings.

I grinned to myself, whispering, "Freedommm!" like a dramatic heroine from one of those Bollywood films I mocked and secretly loved.

"Lagta hai kisi ke period khatam ho gaye," came a familiar, teasing voice.

I turned mid-spin, and there he was—leaning against the doorway with folded arms, his brown eyes trained on me like I was his private sunrise.

I laughed. "Exactly! Aaj mujhe koi kuch mat kehna, I'm just... celebrating the end of pain and the return of being a normal human."

He walked toward me slowly, like a storm dressed in a three-piece. "Normal human? You think I want you normal?"

I arched a brow. "Oh? What do you want then?"

His fingers tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, and his voice dropped. "Dangerous. Tempting. Loud. Quiet. Clingy. Distant. Basically... you. Every version of you. Just give me that."

My heart thudded too loudly. "That's oddly romantic."

He smirked. "I'm oddly obsessed."

Before I could react, he said, "Ek kaam karo. Aaj ka din mere naam kar do. Let's go out—just you and me. Kal tak waapis aa jaayenge."

My brows rose. "Kya kidnapping ka plan hai?"

He leaned down, lips grazing my ear. "Jaan... agar kidnap karta, toh kab ka kar chuka hota."

Shivers.

Minutes later, he was telling my parents with that signature CEO smoothness, "Uncle, Aunty... Lavika aur main thoda bahar jaa rahe hain. Wapas aa jaayenge kal tak. I hope that's okay?"

My mom chuckled and waved us off. "Jaao jaao"

"Haha" I muttered, as he took my hand and led me out the door.

🧸ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི

We reached one of the most luxurious areas in the city—quiet, green, peaceful.

My brows knitted. "Yahan? Kya kaam hai yaha?"

He didn't answer.

Just led me toward a massive gate.

The house beyond it was something out of a Pinterest dream—huge, modern, all glass and white stone, with a sprawling garden, and a private pool that shimmered under the sun.

"Ishaan..." I breathed. "Yeh... kisika ghar hai?"

He unlocked the front door, tugged me in, and turned to face me.

"Ours."

My brain stalled. "WHAT?"

He looked so casual, standing in that big, echoing living room like he already belonged. "India mein ek base chahiye tha. Business bhi expand ho raha hai... but more than that, I wanted this to be ours. A place where we could come back. After marriage... if you'd like... we could even shift here."

My hands trembled slightly. "You bought this house without even telling me?"

"I know. I should've asked. But I wanted to surprise you. Aur agar tum chaho, toh we can keep it or sell it or turn it into a memory."

He stepped closer.

"I just wanted to show you that I see a future with you. Not just in England, not just in messages or hospital hallways—in walls, in rooms, in a life."

God, this man.

I exhaled slowly. "You... think of everything, don't you?"

"Only when it comes to you."

My gaze flickered around the space—there was an open kitchen with marble counters, a cozy sunken lounge, a spiral staircase leading to the upper floor.

Everything was spotless, waiting. Waiting for us.

"I love you" I whispered.

He grinned. "I do more."

He pulled me toward the master bedroom.

The floor-to-ceiling windows opened up to the pool.

The bed—of course—was king-sized, draped in jet black sheets.

His voice deepened. "Want the rest of the house tour? Or should I show you what the bed feels like first?"

My breath caught.

"Ishaan..."

"Say yes," he said, pressing his forehead to mine. "Say you want this. Say you're mine."

I didn't say it.

I grabbed his collar and kissed him.

His lips were warm, urgent, claiming mine like he was afraid I'd disappear if he didn't hold me tight enough.

I couldn't tell if it was the way he kissed me or the way his hands knew exactly where to hold me, but something inside me melted.

My fingers tangled in the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer, closer, until we were flush against the door of the bedroom he hadn't even shown me fully yet.

I gasped when he gently bite my bottom lip.

"Ishaan..." I whispered breathlessly, eyes meeting his darkened ones. "You didn't show me the rest of the house."

"Later," he murmured, pressing his forehead to mine. "Right now, I just want to get lost in you."

I giggled, breath hitching. "You're always so dramatic."

"And you love it," he smirked.

"I do." My smile turned slow, mischievous.

This time, I pushed him back gently.

He blinked in surprise when I took control—guiding him toward the edge of the bed instead of the other way around.

"Oh?" he tilted his head. "What's this new energy, Dr. Mehra?"

I grinned and climbed onto his lap, arms resting around his neck. "This new energy just got her period freedom back. You better be scared."

"I'm terrified," he said with a crooked smile, hands already gripping my waist.

I leaned in close, our noses brushing. "Let's make a deal?"

"Hmm?"

"For the next hour, I call the shots. You follow."

He raised a brow, amused. "Dominant Lavika? K-dramas mei yeh sab bhi hota hai?"

I pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Shut up and say yes."

"Yes, ma'am."

God, the way that word fell from his mouth made me shiver.

But I wasn't done playing.

"Good boy," I whispered, brushing my lips against his, just barely.

He leaned in instinctively, but I pulled back. "Nuh-uh. Not until I say."

He groaned. "You're enjoying this too much."

"Oh, absolutely."

I tugged at the buttons of his shirt, one by one, taking my sweet time.

Every time he tried to move, I clicked my tongue and pushed him back with my palm.

"I said stay still."

His jaw clenched, eyes burning. "You're going to pay for this later."

I shrugged. "Worth it."

When his shirt was finally off, I ran my hands over his chest, slow and teasing.

He was breathing harder now, but I wasn't done yet.

I pressed small kisses along his collarbone, and then lower—each one earning a hiss from him.

"You're trying to kill me, aren't you?"

"Maybe," I whispered. "But you'll die smiling."

He laughed softly, and in that moment, it wasn't just lust—it was love.

Pure, wild, unfiltered love.

His eyes weren't just dark with desire, they were soft around the edges.

For me.

Suddenly, the game didn't feel like a game anymore.

"Ishaan..." I whispered, brushing my nose against his. "You really bought this house?"

His arms wrapped around me. "Yeah. I wanted to surprise you."

"In India?"

He nodded. "I know we live in England. I know we're still figuring things out. But when we get married, I want us to have roots here too. Somewhere you can call home. With your people. With mine."

Something tugged at my heart.

"You should've asked," I said softly, voice trembling just a little.

"I know," he replied. "But it felt right. And I wanted to see this expression on your face." He reached up, cupping my cheek. "You're glowing."

I smiled, biting my lip. "I just... I didn't think anyone would ever do something like this for me."

He leaned in, voice a whisper against my skin. "I'd do anything for you."

Silence stretched between us.

Heavy. Soft. Safe.

Then—

"Ishaan?"

"Hmm?"

"Next time we kiss, I get to bite you."

He laughed. "Deal. But then I get to return the favor."

We fell onto the bed laughing, tangled in sheets and each other, kisses turning slower and more meaningful, like we had all the time in the world.

And maybe... we did.

🧸ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི

I lay sprawled across his chest, my fingers lazily tracing random patterns on his skin while his heart thudded steadily beneath me.

He was still catching his breath from all my teasing, looking like some mythic god under me—bare, flushed, and completely at my mercy.

And oh, I wasn't done with him.

I leaned in, pressing soft, wet kisses across his collarbone, up his neck, and to the corner of his jaw.

His stubble tickled my lips and I giggled when he twitched.

"You're addicted to kissing me, aren't you?" he murmured, voice hoarse.

"I like leaving my mark," I said innocently... even as I sucked gently at the sensitive spot just under his ear, earning a groan from him.

"Lavika..." he warned, but it was already too late.

I had a wicked idea burning at the back of my mind.

I suddenly pushed off the bed and got up.

"Jaaaan" Ishaan blinked. "Where do you think you're going in the middle of this?"

I glanced over my shoulder with a smirk, already halfway across the room. "Bas ek minute, Ishaan. Don't move."

"Don't move?!" He sat up, his hair a mess, skin flushed, still panting. "You're going to leave me in this condition? Isse toh emotional damage ho raha hai."

I chuckled as I walked out, calling over my shoulder, "Thoda sabr kar lo, my muffin."

I reached the lobby where my sling bag lay on the couch, and rummaged through until I found what I needed—my fiercest, boldest red lipstick.

The shade I reserved for days I wanted to feel like I owned the damn world.

I uncapped it, smiling to myself in the mirror as I applied it, slow and precise.

One swipe, two... perfect.

Time to claim what was mine.

I walked back into the room—barefoot, confident, a glint in my eye.

Ishaan's gaze locked on me the second I entered, his mouth falling slightly open.

His eyes slowly dragged over my lips. "That's... dangerous."

I climbed onto the bed, crawling toward him until I straddled his lap again.

His hands instinctively found my hips, but I smacked them away.

"Hands off," I whispered, cupping his face.

He raised his brows. "Excuse me?"

"Are you ready, my love..." I said, voice low and teasing, "...to be marked as mine all over your body?"

His pupils dilated. "You wouldn't—"

I kissed him. Hard.

The lipstick smeared instantly, painting his lips, his chin, and then more—because I didn't stop there.

I left soft, wet, red kisses across his chest, his collarbone, down his ribs.

Every time I pressed my lips to his skin, he hissed and arched toward me.

One on his shoulder.
One on his heart.
One just below his navel.

"Lavika..." he groaned, "you're gonna ruin me."

I smiled devilishly. "That's the point."

Then I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and clicked a photo.

Not of his face—but of his torso, covered in smudged red kisses.

I opened Instagram, captioned the 온라인카지노게임:

Marked him as mine. Only mine.

And hit Post.

"YOU DID NOT—" Ishaan lunged for the phone, but I'd already locked it and tossed it away.

"You can delete it in ten minutes," I said sweetly. "Let the world know who you belong to."

He stared at me with a half-murderous, half-turned-on look. "Laaaaavvs."

"Yes darling?," I winked.

He gripped my waist suddenly and flipped me over with a growl, pinning me beneath him. "Now you're going to pay for that, Dr. Mehra."

I laughed breathlessly, heart pounding.

Oh, I was so ready.

🧸ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི

We didn't need to say much after that.

His hands told stories.

His mouth worshipped.

My laughter tangled with his soft groans.

We were messy and beautiful—like art painted in rushed strokes.

Later, he scooped me up effortlessly, carrying me up the narrow staircase that led to the open terrace.

His bare chest was warm beneath my cheek.

The night air kissed our skin, cool and crisp, while the moonlight wrapped us in silver silk.

We stood there, under the stars.

Wrapped around each other, breath to breath.

I giggled as he spun me in slow circles. "There's no music," I whispered.

"There's your laughter," he replied, pulling me closer, "that's all the rhythm I need."

I kissed his jaw. "Smooth."

He smirked, brushing his nose against mine. "Always."

We were both still glowing from earlier, wrapped in only bedsheets and boldness—our bodies bare beneath the comfort of his oversized white shirt draped over me and a loosely tied robe around him. It was scandalous and soft and secret.

We danced.

Barefoot. Heartbeat to heartbeat.

My feet over his.

His hands on my waist.

Every now and then, he'd bend down and press a kiss on my shoulder... my neck... behind my ear.

We took pictures too.

Blurry mirror selfies, our silhouettes against the glass doors.

A shadow of my lips on his cheek from the red lipstick I wore earlier.

"MERA BANDA HAI," I captioned one and sent it to my private locked 온라인카지노게임.

He saw it and raised a brow. "Yours?"

I walked up to him, slowly, playfully, tracing my finger down his chest. "Completely," I whispered. "And you know it."

"Then don't test me, jaan," he warned, backing me gently against the wall. "Because if I start marking you, no one's leaving this terrace for days."

I shivered.

And then we ran.

Around the terrace.

Laughing.

Naked under moonlight and mischief.

I chased him this time, both of us breathless and wild.

We waited for the sun to dip behind the clouds—waited for dusk to kiss the skyline in pink and gold.

And then... the water ran.
Steam rose.
Stars blinked awake.

We stood beneath the open sky, in a hidden stone bath tucked into the corner of the terrace.

The gentle splash of water.

The scent of sandalwood. Soft music drifting from a Bluetooth speaker nearby.

He stood behind me, hands gliding slowly over my arms, my back, my waist—more worship than want.

"This," he whispered into my damp hair, "feels like home."

I leaned back into his chest. "It is. With you, anywhere is."

We made out under the stars, slow and dreamy, like we had nowhere else to be.

No pasts to run from. No futures to overthink.

Just the now.

The warmth.

The water.

Us.

Later, he wrapped me in a fluffy towel, carried me back in, and tucked me into bed with a kiss on my forehead and a soft, "I love you. Even when you steal my robe."

I smirked, sleepy. "You're lucky I didn't steal your heart."

"You did," he said softly, "the second I saw you."

His words wrapped around me, comforting yet electrifying.

But he didn't give me time to answer, instead, his hand brushed through my damp hair.

"Lavs, chalo dinner karne chalte hai hum dono," he said, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "Wear your appropriate clothes. Kyunki I don't want meri jaan ko aise dekhe." His lips curled, and his voice dropped lower, playful. "Ghar mein toh chahe aap kuch na pehene, but bahar? No, no, never."

I laughed at his teasing tone, though his seriousness made me smile.

He was protective, yes, but in the sweetest way possible.

His words made me feel cherished in ways I never expected.

I stood up, stretching my arms above my head. "Alright, I'll wear my kurta and jeans, jo main pehn kar aayi thi." I winked at him, walking into the closet, already knowing exactly what I wanted.

🧸ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི

Few minutes later, I was all ready.

I walked out of the room, my wet hair cascading down my back, barely touched with a bit of tint on my lips.

A quiet sense of contentment filled me as I took a last glance at the mirror—feeling beautiful, powerful, and at peace.

I walked into the living room, where I found Ishaan sitting on the sofa, his attention caught by his phone.

Was he texting someone?

No.

I shook the thought away.

No, he's not.

It was just my mind running away with assumptions.

But there it was again—he was absorbed in the screen, a hint of concentration in his eyes.

My heart skipped a beat as I approached him, trying not to read into it.

"Everything alright?" I asked, voice soft but a little unsure.

He looked up at me, his gaze softening immediately, almost like he was caught doing something he shouldn't.

He smiled, the playful glint in his eyes returning as he set the phone aside.

"You look sundar pari," he said, his voice genuine and filled with admiration.

I couldn't help the smile that crept onto my face.

I crossed the room, sat down next to him, and took his hand. "Dinner? Or are you too busy with your phone?"

His laugh was a low rumble, and he leaned into me, brushing his lips against my temple. "Don't worry about that," he murmured. "I was just making sure everything's perfect for you, for tonight."

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Perfect for me? What's going on?"

He simply gave me a mysterious grin, and I couldn't stop myself from laughing.

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