Chapter 3 — The Wedding note

The marriage passed in a whirlwind. I shut down everything in me before I had to step out from my room and into the mandap.

The mandap was decorated beautifully with pastel pinks and whites—exactly like I had planned for my wedding years ago. Like I had designed for my happy wedding! Today it was anything but that.

Instead of making me smile, the decorations ended up bringing me close to tears. The future I had envisioned was so near and yet so far away—my dream wedding without my dream man.

Tears, the deceiving bastards, were at the edge of my eyes, waiting to fall, but I held them back. I pushed them away with all my might.

I wouldn't break down, not so soon.

So, I pushed everything inside me and sealed my soul in an iron cage, shutting everything and everyone out. My eyes were open, but I didn't really see. I was listening, but I didn't really hear, staring blankly, for the most part, and smiling only when the photographers nagged me for a smiling picture.

Standing next to my groom, I posed in my heavy pink lehenga. The silver and rose gold work of art on the entirety of my lehenga complimented the floral decoration around the mandap. A veil sat right above my hair and flew down my back graciously, ending in a knot at the end of a thin pink shawl around Aarav's shoulder.

My blank face was hidden behind a thick veil of make-up and endless heavy pieces of traditional Indian jewelry.

And so was my groom's face.

My groom, Aarav Singhaniya, kept his face hidden under a sehra (a traditional accessory made using flowers worn by grooms at their wedding). He was very traditional, it seemed, or just didn't like his face.

The only time he showed his face was when the photographers asked.

But even then, I didn't see him. I didn't see how he looked because I kept imagining him as a man with beautiful chocolate skin and eyes as dark as night. I kept imagining him as a man with curly black hair and a muscular figure. I didn't know how he felt, how he smelt, and I imagined him to be Dev—the only one I should be marrying.

I took the seven vows, but in my heart, there was only Dev.

I might be technically marrying Aarav, but I wasn't his. I was Dev's, utterly.

The sudden invasion of tears shocked me, and I looked up, careful not to let the tears show—no good in making a scene. But I couldn't help it.

Dev! Dev! Dev! There was only one thing in my head, and I kept seeing his face, especially the way he looked that night.

The night I broke his heart.

The night I broke myself.

That night...

Dev was sitting on his bed, as usual, working on his laptop with his glasses perched on his nose. He turned around as I entered, and his lips cracked a smile. He spread his arms wide in an inviting gesture. Breaking apart at the sight of him, I rushed towards his open arms, wrapped my arms around his torso, and placed a soft kiss on the side of his neck—the place I knew he loved to feel my lips touch.

A tear rolled down my cheek as I realized that this, right here, was probably the last time I would embrace him in this manner. Embrace him as only a lover could.

"Are you okay? What's wrong?" he asked, and my shoulders sagged, a quiet sob escaping my lips.

The gentle motion of his fingers on my back and his caring tone tugged at my heartstrings. I swallowed something in my throat and removed my head from the crook of his neck to stare into the wonderful depth of his dark eyes.

I grabbed his face in between my palms, and wrapping my legs around his waist, I tilted my head to place a soft peck on his lips. I stayed there, breathing irregularly. He stayed still, his hands continuing to make slow circles on my lower back as I struggled to form words. Slowly, my lips started moving over his plump ones.

"Riya, what's wrong? You don't look so good,” he murmured against the slow-motion of my lips.

I shook my head, applying force and passion behind my kiss, begging him to reciprocate my affection.

"Darling?" he asked.

"It's nothing. I had a terrible dream about you, and I just want to be with you. Kiss me, please,” I lied. I didn't care how wrong it was.

I wanted his kiss. I wanted to be his, just this one last time.

Satisfied, his lips started moving, and his hands explored my body, moving along the curve of my back and the dip in my hip.

I moaned as our kiss turned from sweet and romantic to heated and sensual.

I kissed him with every fiber of my being, tasting him, moving my lips along his, awaiting the sensual pleasures he promised. If this was my last kiss, I was going to make the best of it.

He kissed me back with hot passion, his breath mixing with mine and his lips moving deliciously over my own. He wasn't eating me, and yet I had never felt so devoured. His large palm caressed the sides of my body, igniting warmth that glided in a downward slope. His hands landed on my butt, and he pulled me closer to his large frame. My heartbeat against his, in perfect harmony, and I could feel the hard slabs of his muscles through the layers of clothing.

I moaned as his mouth moved down the side of my neck, sucking on the pulse he knew I was especially weak for.

My hands roamed around the sexy expanse of his body, feeling the muscles on his back through the flimsy black tee he wore.

At 5'5, I wasn't tiny by any standard, but his large build easily over-powered my comparatively shorter frame. He was a foot taller than me, and his body was the very definition of a gym rat. Muscles stacked upon muscles with biceps larger than my thighs, he was a walking wet dream. My lower lips clenched just by the sheer amount of testosterone that oozed out of him.

But contrary to popular belief, he wasn't rough—in bed or in general. He was gentle, very gentle. He was nothing like what you'd assume from a man of his build. Or what porn or worse, Wattpad, would have you believe. He was selfless in the way he delivered sensual pleasure, and his practice of delayed gratification was a cherry on top.

It hit me, right then, that I would never get to sleep with him, never get to feel him inside me, and never get to marry this beautiful masterpiece. My heart ached while my pussy—the shameless little slut—throbbed for him and all the things he could do.

His lips were on my neck, sucking and biting while his hands moved all over my body, his caresses soft and sensual.

I pushed him towards his bed, and as he sat on the edge of the bed, I wedged myself between his thighs and, playing with my blue top, asked, "Would you like to do the honors?"

"Weren't you going to tell me something?" he asked as he laid back and rested on his forearms. My mouth watered. This was a snapshot straight from a men's athletic magazine.

"I'll tell you later," I said as I salivated from the view right in front of me.

"You sure?" he queried as concern lined his dark brows.

"Absolutely," I nodded and stepped back to put on a show for him. He didn't have to do anything today; I would be the pleasure-giver.

A lascivious smile spread across my face, and as I discarded my clothes, his eyes darkened further, and his pupils dilated. First came my blue top, then my jeans, until I stood in my blue lingerie that hugged my slim curvy figure. I looked great, and even if I didn't feel that way, the way his eyes were devouring me right now was enough to skyrocket my confidence a thousandfold.

He wanted me, and he wasn't ashamed to show it.

Gyrating my hips to the music I played in my head, I teased him with a sensual dance, but before I could free my breasts, he stood up and signaled me to stop.

"You are breathtaking," he said as his eyes swept across my body.

"I believe I gave you a rush of blood as well," I smirked, gazing down at his very eminent arousal.

"That you do," he agreed and in one smooth move, threw his T-shirt aside and pulled me closer to him. I felt his hard muscles against my soft skin, his hot body pressed right next to mine, and his delicious scent engulfed me. He smelled like chocolate and mild citrus; it was refreshing and satisfying and so fucking delicious.

I breathed him in, and as he bent down to pick me up, my breathing accelerated, anticipating the addicting emotions only he could make me feel. He placed me on his bed gently and dropped his pants to unveil the masculine beauty underneath.

He had broad shoulders, huge biceps, and a stockpile of abs. He wasn't bulky or ripped; he was somewhere just between, which was my personal favorite. His strong biceps and arms were decorated with a few veins that sent a tingle through my entire body. I had a thing for hands and veins and everything else of his.

His massive build set expectations, and his bulge didn't disappoint. He was thick and long, definitely above average, and absolutely gorgeous. Before I saw his cock, I didn't know they could be attractive. Either he was an exception, or I had love goggles on.

Whatever the reason, I loved this man, I loved his body, and I loved his cock.

"Would you like a kiss, darling?" he asked in his deep voice, and I nodded instantly.

"Where?" he asked, teasing a gentle touch with his finger on my skin.

"Everywhere," I breathed out.

"Your wish is my command, darling."

He bent down to place a kiss on my ankle and slowly moved upwards, placing gentle pecks as his fingers caressed my sides. As he reached the lace between my legs, he placed the gentlest peck and moved up my navel.

"Mmm," I moaned as I pushed my hips towards his lips.

Holding me down with a chuckle, he whispered, "Patience, darling."

I didn't have to be patient for long because his lips found my breasts, and he pecked my excited buds softly. He caressed the curve of my breasts as he stared into my eyes, teasing me with a quirk of his left brow and barely-there swishes over my tips.

His hands finally found my back, and as he undid my bra, he stared in awe, "I love your breasts. They are so beautiful and soft. They fit right in my palm. I will never get tired of watching you or these girls," and took my right nipple in his mouth.

He sucked my hard buds while his hands played with my left breast, massaging and tweaking my nipples. My back arched, and my hands nestled in his mass of black curls as delicious electricity spread throughout my body.

He moved over to the other side, treating the other one with the same care as I moaned out his name.

"Your moans are so erotic. I could listen to you moan my name all day, every day,” he murmured against my flesh, and a shy smile spread across my lips.

Dev wasn't usually a vocal lover, but some days he tended to be one, complimenting me in every way he could and making me feel like the most special girl, and today was one of those days. Dev's words hit a different spot in my heart this time, though. His words weren't just shallow compliments; it was a profession of his love and a promise of the future. It was beautiful. But today, they were all false.

We couldn't be together, I would marry someone else, and the reality hurt, even amid the pleasure his flesh gave to mine.

Our future was absent.

The thought was dampening. Depressing.

But I still had a few hours, and I was going to enjoy it.

Before I married someone else, I would be his, completely.