Mehul was completely at my mercy.
His breath? Uneven.
His hands? Still gripping my shirt like he was scared to let go.
His lips? Red, swollen, kissed raw.
And yet—
He still had the audacity to smirk at me.
I ran my thumb across his jaw, tilting his head back slightly.
Admiring my work.
Mehul exhaled, eyes dark, half-lidded.
And then—he did it.
He whispered, "That all you got?"
…Oh.
Oh, he was playing dangerous now.
I chuckled, low and dangerous.
"You really want to test me, Mehul?"
His fingers curled into my shirt, breath hitching just slightly.
But he still held my gaze. Challenging.
I leaned in, lips barely brushing his.
"Careful what you wish for."
Then—I pulled back completely.
Let go of him.
Stepped away.
Mehul blinked.
Frowned.
Looked absolutely wrecked at the loss of contact.
…Perfect.
Seconds passed.
Mehul stayed where he was, frozen against the door.
Breathing hard. Wanting more.
And I?
I just waited.
Arms crossed.
Watching.
Because if he wanted this—I needed to hear it.
Finally, he swallowed.
"Vihaan."
I raised an eyebrow. "Hmm?"
He hesitated.
Like he wasn't used to being the one who had to ask.
Like he wasn't used to not getting what he wanted immediately.
I smirked. "Something wrong?"
Mehul exhaled sharply.
Then, in a voice so low, so quiet, so unlike him—
"Come here."
I didn't move.
"Not enough."
Mehul's fingers twitched at his sides.
His jaw clenched.
He wasn't used to giving up like this.
And yet—he was still standing there, waiting for me.
I tilted my head.
"Say it properly."
He inhaled shakily.
Then—softer. Needier. Completely undone.
"Vihaan, please."
…That was it.
That was the moment I broke.
Because he had never sounded like that before.
Never looked so desperate.
Never given himself up so willingly.
And I?
I was done playing games.
I closed the distance instantly.
One second of space—gone.
My hands gripped his waist, pushing him back against the door.
Hard. Possessive.
And then—I kissed him.
Not soft.
Not teasing.
Raw. Unfiltered. Absolutely ruining him.
Mehul whimpered against my lips.
His fingers grasped at my shoulders, holding on for dear life.
Like he had finally gotten what he wanted—
And now, he couldn't handle it.
I tilted his chin up, deepening the kiss.
Taking.
Owning.
Marking him as mine.
And Mehul?
He let me.
No resistance.
No control.
Just complete, beautiful surrender.
I pulled back, just enough to see his face.
Mehul was wrecked.
Flushed. Breathless.
And I wasn't even close to being done.
His hands fisted into my shirt, like he was trying to pull me back in.
I chuckled. "Impatient?"
He exhaled shakily. "You have no idea."
I smirked.
Then—I bent down, hooking my arms under his legs.
And before he could react—I lifted him.
Mehul gasped.
I felt his fingers dig into my shoulders, his breath hitch.
"Vihaan—"
I leaned in, whispering against his lips.
"You're mine tonight."
His breath shuddered.
And then—he kissed me again.
Like he wanted to prove it.
Like he wanted to be owned.
I carried him straight to the bedroom.
The door shut behind us.
And that night?
That night, Mehul finally learned what it meant to belong to me.