Chapter 176: Wedding Night

His grip on her waist tightened as his other hand moved with determined precision.

Without a word, he began gathering the thick fabric between them and, with one swift

motion, pushed her down again.

She froze. Her wide eyes met his. She felt it—hard, unyielding, pressing against her intimacy

through the thin fabric of her underdress.

“Sheharyaar...” Her voice trembled as she uttered his name, a faint plea laced with hesitation

and fear. She wanted to stop him, to beg him not to cross the line again, not to ruin her as he

had before.

Snippets of that night began flashing in her mind again.

Her lips parted, but no words came out.

The sound of his name spilling from her lips was like a spark in dry timber. She rarely said

it, and when she did, it sent a thrill through him that he couldn’t control. He placed his

hands on her hips, squeezing them slightly and pulling her even closer to him until her body

was flushed with his. “Say it again,” he leaned in closer, his breath brushing against her

cheek. “You have no idea what it does to me.”

"Do you feel that? You drive me crazy with your voice." He ground his hips, pressing himself

more against her.

And he consumed her.

There and then.

In that car. As he played again to her tunes.

Just when she was on the verge of fainting, his voice reached her ears, “I'll take you again

upon reaching home.”

"I'll take you again upon reaching home."

The words were playing like music in her ears, a tone of which she couldn't get rid of from

her mind. The sick feeling in her heart was increasing by leaps and bounds, almost making

her nauseous. Her mind was playing games with her as she was not able to recognize the

reason which was instigating the memories of that night from some corner of her brain. The

memories which she had dumped in her mind long ago.

Those moments became non-existent for her once she had stepped out of that room where

they did the deed.

Yet repeatedly, those scenes were coming in front of her eyes, the voices were running in

her mind. She could hear her whimpers and moans from that night. She was able to

experience the same terror as she had experienced that night.

Her heart was shivering. Shivering bad.

Whenever she would close her eyes, she was able to see those bedroom walls, increasing

her anxiousness and making her short of breath.

And she didn't realize when they reached the haveli. The car had come to a halt long ago,

but she was too busy within her mind to register it. Only when she felt someone staring at

her did she raise her head and find the haveli in front of her. The silent haveli.

Home.

It was now her home.

Her new home.

Her head moved to her right, and she found Sheharyaar staring at her.

She gazed down.

No one was there to welcome them. She remembered his grandmother insisting on

welcoming the bride at her new abode, but he denied it, saying they could continue with

their festivities the next morning. The haveli was quiet. She assumed everybody must have

slept because he took the longest route to the haveli. A one-and-a-half-hour drive, and also,

when he had told them not to wait for them, they must have gone to their rooms and slept

because of the tiring and energy-draining event.

The silence depicted as if it wasn't a wedding house, though the decorative lights were still

glimmering.

A new chapter of her life had started.

Her palms were getting clammy.

He got out of the car and then crossed over, coming to her side. He opened the door for her

and gave her his hand.

Her eyes lingered on his hand for a moment before she silently took it. He helped her get out

of the vehicle, and once she was out, with joined hands, they both moved towards the

glimmering yet silent house.

Flamboyant yet quiet abode.

Just like her life.

She found herself in trouble walking because of the small yet rough session they had in the

car. He was one or two steps ahead of her, but she was slightly tripping in the middle of her

steps.

Sheharyaar stopped in his tracks before turning around.

As soon as their gazes met again, she quickly averted her eyes downward, staring at the

ground.

He closed in on her, and she felt the atmosphere tightening around her throat. Suddenly, she

realized she was in the air as he held her bridal-style with little to no effort.

A surprised gasp escaped her lips as she circled her arm around his neck and held his shirt

for dear life.

And their gazes connected again.

Again, she looked down, biting her lips as his intense gaze shook her core.

She was in his arms, fitting in his well-built frame perfectly. As if made for him. In the silent

hallway, the boot steps collided with the floor as he walked forward toward his room.

Rather, their room.

He could see her small, ragged breaths given the way her chest would lift and fall.

She was clearly nervous.

Her hands at his neck were going cold, yet sweat beads had formed on her forehead.

This Sheharzaad... she was really changed.

He had changed her...

Nervous, little, introverted girl.

Totally opposite of what she was.

He still remembered how she had slapped him.

That was the moment he became more and more serious about her. More and more

invested in her.

She shouldn't have challenged him.

She shouldn't have done that.

She had tarnished his ego.

And a man's ego is like a sleeping snake; if woken up, it will gnaw at its waker mercilessly.

Her small breaths were falling on his neck and jawline as he carried her. A small smile made

its way to his lips because of her unnerved breathing.