17-09-2026, 09:46 PM
Chapter -24
Padma moved through the courtyard in a fitted wine-colored kurta that hugged every curve, her flowing dupatta trailing behind her like a whisper of intent. She could feel every gaze catching fire as she passed—and for the first time, she felt let them watch and walked confidently.
She told Mohan she was going to the market.
? Mohan: “Need me to come?”
? Padma: “No. I’ll be back soon.”
She smiled at him, but her heart was already pounding against her ribs, her skin humming with a sudden, betraying heat.
As she stepped into the crowded market, the memory of Rajan’s voice rushed back—the low, dangerous drag of his words, the way his eyes had swept over her in the blue saree as if stripping away the fabric layer by layer, and that intoxicating, arrogant confidence that made her breathless and infuriatingly aware of her own body.
She stopped before a shop window, her gaze catching her reflection.
The fitted wine-colored kurta hugged her waist and the swell of her hips, her heavy dupatta dbangd loosely over her chest. She adjusted the fabric slowly, her nipples tightening under the soft cotton at the thought.
Is this what he sees when he looks at me?
She exhaled sharply, her cheeks flushing hot.
? Padma: “Stop thinking about him.”
Her phone vibrated violently against her palm.
? Rajan: There you are.
A sharp coil of heat pulled tight in the pit of her stomach.
She spun around, scanning the crowd, her breath coming a little shorter.
? Padma: Where are you?
Three dots appeared.
Disappeared.
Then:
? Rajan: Close enough to taste the heat on your skin when you think about me. Stop acting like you don't crave every single second of it.
Padma’s mouth went dry, a sudden shiver running down her spine and pooling between her thighs.
She slammed the phone locked.
A minute later, her eyes found him across the busy street.
Rajan didn’t step toward her. He just leaned back against a pillar, his heavy gaze locked onto hers, his mouth slowly curving into a dark, knowing smirk that felt like a hand pressing against her lower back.
Padma forced herself to turn away, forcing one foot in front of the other.
But her pace wasn't fast anymore. Her hips swayed with a deliberate, slow rhythm, her body aching with an electric tension that terrified her.
Because beneath the guilt and the sudden thrill was a filthy, dangerous truth:
She craved the way his eyes devoured her.
And she was desperate to know what those eyes would do if he finally grabbed her.
kurta.
? Rajan: “Running away again, sweetheart?”
Padma stopped dead in her tracks, her chest heaving as heat flushed up her neck.
? Padma: “I told you not to follow me.”
? Rajan: “I didn’t follow you. I just happened to be here...”
He stepped closer, his voice dropping into a low, velvet purr as he trapped her space without even touching her.
? Rajan: “...waiting for you.”
She threw him an unconvinced look, her skin prickling under the raw intensity of his eyes.
? Padma: “You always have a dirty little explanation.”
Rajan smirked, his eyes trailing down the sharp curve of her waist before locking onto her lips.
? Rajan: “And you always look so sinfully gorgeous when you’re trying to resist me.”
Padma immediately yanked her dupatta over her chest, her nipples tightening under the soft fabric at the sheer hunger in his voice.
? Padma: “Don’t start, Rajan.”
? Rajan: “Okay, okay. I’ll behave...”
He paused, stepping right into her breath, the heat of his body searing through the thin air between them.
? Rajan: “But you have to admit, you wore this color today knowing damn well it would drive me out of my mind.”
Padma looked away, her cheeks burning, a sudden wet heat pooling low in her belly.
? Padma: “I’m going home.”
She turned on her heel and started walking, her heart thumping against her ribs.
Rajan didn’t step after her.
? Rajan: “Padma.”
The low, possessive drag of her name grounded her. She stopped, frozen.
? Rajan: “You don’t have to be terrified of how much you want this.”
Padma whipped around, gasping for control.
? Padma: “What I want is none of your damn business.”
Rajan’s smile faded into something dark, intense, and promise-filled.
? Rajan: “Fair enough.”
Padma turned and walked away. This time, Rajan let her go, watching her hips sway into the distance.
But as she melted into the crowded lane, a filthy, disturbing truth slammed into Padma’s chest, leaving her breathless:
She had wanted him to grab her wrist. She had expected him to chase her into the shadows and pin her down.
And when he didn’t, her body throbbed with a wicked, aching disappointment—forcing her to look back.
Padma moved through the courtyard in a fitted wine-colored kurta that hugged every curve, her flowing dupatta trailing behind her like a whisper of intent. She could feel every gaze catching fire as she passed—and for the first time, she felt let them watch and walked confidently.
She told Mohan she was going to the market.
? Mohan: “Need me to come?”
? Padma: “No. I’ll be back soon.”
She smiled at him, but her heart was already pounding against her ribs, her skin humming with a sudden, betraying heat.
As she stepped into the crowded market, the memory of Rajan’s voice rushed back—the low, dangerous drag of his words, the way his eyes had swept over her in the blue saree as if stripping away the fabric layer by layer, and that intoxicating, arrogant confidence that made her breathless and infuriatingly aware of her own body.
She stopped before a shop window, her gaze catching her reflection.
The fitted wine-colored kurta hugged her waist and the swell of her hips, her heavy dupatta dbangd loosely over her chest. She adjusted the fabric slowly, her nipples tightening under the soft cotton at the thought.
Is this what he sees when he looks at me?
She exhaled sharply, her cheeks flushing hot.
? Padma: “Stop thinking about him.”
Her phone vibrated violently against her palm.
? Rajan: There you are.
A sharp coil of heat pulled tight in the pit of her stomach.
She spun around, scanning the crowd, her breath coming a little shorter.
? Padma: Where are you?
Three dots appeared.
Disappeared.
Then:
? Rajan: Close enough to taste the heat on your skin when you think about me. Stop acting like you don't crave every single second of it.
Padma’s mouth went dry, a sudden shiver running down her spine and pooling between her thighs.
She slammed the phone locked.
A minute later, her eyes found him across the busy street.
Rajan didn’t step toward her. He just leaned back against a pillar, his heavy gaze locked onto hers, his mouth slowly curving into a dark, knowing smirk that felt like a hand pressing against her lower back.
Padma forced herself to turn away, forcing one foot in front of the other.
But her pace wasn't fast anymore. Her hips swayed with a deliberate, slow rhythm, her body aching with an electric tension that terrified her.
Because beneath the guilt and the sudden thrill was a filthy, dangerous truth:
She craved the way his eyes devoured her.
And she was desperate to know what those eyes would do if he finally grabbed her.
kurta.
? Rajan: “Running away again, sweetheart?”
Padma stopped dead in her tracks, her chest heaving as heat flushed up her neck.
? Padma: “I told you not to follow me.”
? Rajan: “I didn’t follow you. I just happened to be here...”
He stepped closer, his voice dropping into a low, velvet purr as he trapped her space without even touching her.
? Rajan: “...waiting for you.”
She threw him an unconvinced look, her skin prickling under the raw intensity of his eyes.
? Padma: “You always have a dirty little explanation.”
Rajan smirked, his eyes trailing down the sharp curve of her waist before locking onto her lips.
? Rajan: “And you always look so sinfully gorgeous when you’re trying to resist me.”
Padma immediately yanked her dupatta over her chest, her nipples tightening under the soft fabric at the sheer hunger in his voice.
? Padma: “Don’t start, Rajan.”
? Rajan: “Okay, okay. I’ll behave...”
He paused, stepping right into her breath, the heat of his body searing through the thin air between them.
? Rajan: “But you have to admit, you wore this color today knowing damn well it would drive me out of my mind.”
Padma looked away, her cheeks burning, a sudden wet heat pooling low in her belly.
? Padma: “I’m going home.”
She turned on her heel and started walking, her heart thumping against her ribs.
Rajan didn’t step after her.
? Rajan: “Padma.”
The low, possessive drag of her name grounded her. She stopped, frozen.
? Rajan: “You don’t have to be terrified of how much you want this.”
Padma whipped around, gasping for control.
? Padma: “What I want is none of your damn business.”
Rajan’s smile faded into something dark, intense, and promise-filled.
? Rajan: “Fair enough.”
Padma turned and walked away. This time, Rajan let her go, watching her hips sway into the distance.
But as she melted into the crowded lane, a filthy, disturbing truth slammed into Padma’s chest, leaving her breathless:
She had wanted him to grab her wrist. She had expected him to chase her into the shadows and pin her down.
And when he didn’t, her body throbbed with a wicked, aching disappointment—forcing her to look back.
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