Chapter 10

Aaradhya walked briskly toward the temple, hoping to find a moment of peace. But peace was impossible when her thoughts were a storm of last night’s memories—the way Vijayendra had touched her, held her captive, made her feel things she shouldn’t be feeling.

Her hands trembled slightly as she reached for the brass diya, her fingers brushing against the cool metal as she tried to steady her breathing.

But her mind refused to cooperate.

This morning…

His hands roaming over her waist, his lips marking her skin, his husky whispers against her ear, the way he played with her waist chain like it belonged to him.

Aaradhya shut her eyes, her breath coming out in a frustrated exhale.

Why was she thinking about this?!

She quickly lit the diya, bowing her head in silent prayer.

"Devi Maa, I am sorry for being distracted but please give me the strength to ignore that man."

But as if the universe was mocking her, heat suddenly radiated behind her.

Before she could turn, fingers brushed against the bare skin of her waist, barely touching yet sending shivers up her spine.

She gasped.

Vijayendra.

She didn’t need to look to know it was him.

His touch was unmistakable.

His fingers lightly traced the curve of her waist, slow and torturous, as if he had all the time in the world. His breath tickled the side of her neck, dangerously close yet never fully touching.

“What are you doing?” she hissed under her breath, her grip tightening around the puja thali.

“Helping my wife pray,” he murmured, his voice deep, lazy, and utterly sinful.

His fingers slipped beneath the waistband of her lehenga, just slightly, barely grazing her skin before retreating.

Aaradhya nearly dropped the thali.

She spun around instantly, glaring up at him through her long translucent veil, only to find him looking completely unbothered, hands folded behind his back, expression infuriatingly amused.

“Stop it,” she whispered angrily.

His lips curved into a slow smirk. “Stop what?”

She knew this game. He was playing with her, enjoying her reactions.

But she refused to let him win.

Turning away, she walked toward the kitchen, determined to distract herself.

---

In the Kitchen

The kitchen was bustling with women, all busy preparing lunch. Aaradhya rolled up her bangles and began kneading the dough for rotis, focusing on the repetitive motion to calm her racing thoughts, when he entered.

"Ignore him. Ignore him. Ignore him."

But then—warmth pressed against her back.

Aaradhya’s entire body stiffened.

A deep chuckle brushed against her ear.

“Thakurain sa, need any help?” Vijayendra murmured, his voice dipping into something darkly amused.

Before she could respond, his fingers covered hers, his large hands pressing over her own as if guiding her movements.

Her breath hitched.

He was too close. His chest was flush against her back, and when he inhaled, she could feel it—his breath, his warmth, his intentions.

“Let go,” she whispered, her voice betraying her composure.

Vijayendra hummed, pretending to think. “Hmm… no, I don’t think so. I like this.”

His fingers slowly slid over hers, his touch light but deliberate, making her pulse skyrocket.

Aaradhya felt hot all over, her heart thudding in her chest.

The worst part? No one else in the kitchen noticed.

To everyone else, he was simply standing near her, helping his wife knead dough like a “devoted husband.”

But she knew what he was doing.

She could feel his teasing, his touch, his hidden intentions.

The way his fingers lingered too long, the way his thumb lightly brushed against her wrist, the way he was breathing her in like she was something to be devoured.

Aaradhya swallowed hard.

She couldn’t let him win.

Gritting her teeth, she elbowed him—hard.

Vijayendra let out a low chuckle, not the least bit deterred. If anything, he leaned in closer, lips grazing the shell of her ear.

“You can’t escape me, Aaradhya.”

Her fingers curled into fists.

She hated that her heart skipped a beat at the way he said her name.

She hated that her body reacted to his nearness.

And more than anything—she hated the wicked promise in his voice.

This was far from over.

He was going to tease her in every damn corner of this house.

Aaradhya stormed out of the kitchen, her heart pounding. The heat from Vijayendra’s touch still lingered on her skin, making her feel **restless, annoyed—**and something else she refused to name.

"He’s doing this on purpose."

She knew it.

Every time she tried to push him away, he found a new way to invade her space—a teasing brush of fingers, a whispered remark, a dark, knowing smirk.

She hated how easily he got under her skin.

And she hated that her body betrayed her every single time.

Still fuming, she made her way toward the dining hall, where the rest of the family was gathered for breakfast.

The long table was already filled, with Vijayendra’s Badi Thakurain (his mother) sitting at the head. Servants moved around, placing food on the table as soft conversations filled the air.

Aaradhya took her seat as far from Vijayendra as possible.

At least here, in front of everyone, he wouldn’t—

A sudden touch against her ankle made her jolt.

Her fingers tightened around the edge of the table.

Her breath caught.

No.

No, no, no.

She didn’t even need to look to know it was him.

Under the table, hidden from everyone’s sight, Vijayendra’s foot slid against hers—slow, deliberate, teasing.

Aaradhya’s spine snapped straight, her face carefully neutral.

She gripped her spoon hard, resisting the urge to look at him.

"Ignore it. Ignore it. Ignore it."

But the pressure increased, his foot brushing up her leg sliding her skirt up, higher than necessary.

Aaradhya sucked in a sharp breath.

Her cheeks burned.

Across the table, Vijayendra ate his food calmly, as if he wasn’t currently driving her insane under the table.

His eyes flickered to hers just once, amusement flashing in their depths.

He was enjoying this.

The absolute bastard.

She forced a bite of food into her mouth, trying desperately to pretend like nothing was happening.

But then—

His foot hooked around her ankle, tugging slightly.

Aaradhya nearly choked on her food.

Vijayendra chuckled under his breath, his voice low enough that only she could hear.

“Careful, Thakurain,” he murmured. “Wouldn’t want anyone to notice how much I affect you.”

Her spoon clattered against the plate.

Badi Thakurain(Vijayendra's mother) frowned. “Aaradhya, is something wrong?”

Aaradhya stiffened, her throat dry.

“N-No Maasa,” she stammered, clearing her throat. “Just… just lost my grip.”

She felt his foot retreat, but the damage was already done.

Her entire body was on fire.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she picked up her spoon again, her heartbeat way too fast.

Vijayendra simply smirked, casually sipping his tea as if he hadn’t just stolen all her sanity.

This was war.

And he was winning.

---

Later  in the Hallway

Aaradhya thought she was safe once she escaped the dining hall.

She was wrong.

As she turned the corner to head upstairs, a strong arm suddenly wrapped around her waist, yanking her into a darkened hallway.

A muffled gasp escaped her lips as she was pinned against the wall—firm, warm hands trapping her in place.

Her heart skipped.

She knew who it was before even looking up.

Vijayendra.

His scent—rich, spicy, dangerous—surrounded her.

“Vijayendra, let go,” she hissed, struggling against his grip.

But he didn’t budge.

His lips curved into a lazy smirk, his fingers slowly trailing up her waist, brushing against her bare skin right where her blouse ended.

Aaradhya sucked in a breath.

“Running away from me, Thakurain?” he mused, his voice a low rumble.

She glared at him. “I wasn’t running.”

His fingers tightened, pulling her flush against him.

“Liar,” he murmured.

Her breath hitched as his thumb dipped slightly under the waistband of her lehenga, teasing but not enough to satisfy.

Her pulse roared in her ears.

He was too close.

His lips hovered just above hers, his breath warm, his touch setting her skin ablaze.

“Stop playing these games,” she whispered, hating how breathless she sounded.

Vijayendra tilted his head, his dark eyes flickering to her lips.

“Who said I was playing?” he murmured, his voice dropping into something dangerous, intimate, possessive.

Aaradhya’s throat went dry.

She should have shoved him away.

She should have protested.

But her body betrayed her.

Because despite everything—despite her hatred, despite her anger—she was drowning in him.

And he knew it.

A victorious smirk tugged at his lips.

His thumb brushed over her lower stomach, dangerously slow.

Aaradhya’s knees nearly buckled.

A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest.

“You’re mine, Aaradhya,” he whispered, his lips barely grazing her ear. “No matter how much you fight it.”

And then—he let her go.

Just like that.

As if he hadn’t just set her entire world on fire.

Aaradhya stumbled back, her breath ragged, her body still tingling from his touch.

Her hands clenched into tight fists.

She refused to let him win.

Lifting her chin, she shot him a glare filled with defiance.

“You’ll regret this, Vijayendra,” she said, voice low and threatening.

His smirk only widened.

“Oh, Thakurain,” he mused, stepping closer again. “I look forward to it.”

Aaradhya turned on her heel and stormed away—furious, flustered, and utterly shaken.

But she knew one thing for sure.

This war between them?

It was just beginning.

Aaradhya barely made it to their room before the door slammed shut behind her.

Her heart stopped.

She turned—only to see Vijayendra locking the door, his dark eyes gleaming with something dangerous, possessive, and entirely unrelenting.

Her breath hitched.

“Vijayendra—”

She didn’t get to finish.

In a single stride, he was in front of her, his fingers curling around her waist, pulling her flush against him.

A shiver ran through her body as his thumb brushed over her waist chain, the cool metal heating under his touch.

“You ran away too fast, Thakurain,” he murmured, his voice a slow, dark caress against her skin.

Aaradhya sucked in a sharp breath, her pulse thundering.

He wasn’t touching her much—just the light pressure of his fingers on her waist—but it was enough to destroy her balance.

She tried stepping back, but he tightened his grip, his hand sliding lower, brushing against the bare skin beneath her blouse.

Her stomach tightened.

Her entire body betrayed her, her skin burning where his fingertips grazed.

“Vijayendra, let go,” she whispered, her voice unsteady.

He tilted his head, his lips curving into a slow, lazy smirk.

“Why?” His voice was a dangerous whisper. “Are you scared?”

Aaradhya’s fingers clenched into tight fists.

“Of you? Never.”

His chuckle was dark, low, entirely too sensual.

“I don’t think you’re scared of me, Aaradhya.” His thumb traced slow circles on her waist, making her breath quiver.

“I think…” He leaned in, his lips a breath away from her ear.

“I think you’re scared of what you feel when I touch you.”

Her stomach dipped.

No.

No, no, no.

She couldn’t let him control her like this.

She lifted her hands to push him away—but he caught her wrists easily, pinning them against the door above her head.

Her breath hitched.

She was trapped.

Completely.

Utterly.

And the worst part?

She didn’t hate it.

Her traitorous body shivered as his lips brushed against her temple, then lower—skimming along her cheek, her jaw, the delicate skin of her neck.

Her eyes fluttered shut against her will.

His breath was warm, teasing, every touch designed to unravel her sanity.

He knew what he was doing to her.

And he was enjoying every second of it.

“Tell me, Thakurain,” he murmured, his lips grazing the shell of her ear, sending a shiver down her spine.

“What are you running from?”

Aaradhya’s fingers curled into fists.

She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of an answer.

But her silence only made him bolder.

His lips trailed lower, pressing soft, lingering kisses along the curve of her throat.

Her knees wobbled.

She sucked in a sharp breath as his mouth found her collarbone, lingering, teasing, a silent demand for surrender.

Vijayendra felt her shudder and smirked against her skin.

“Still pretending, Aaradhya?”

She hated him.

She hated him so much.

Because he was right.

Her body was betraying her, melting into him, craving his touch even when her mind screamed to resist.

His grip on her wrists tightened slightly, just enough to make her breath hitch.

“I could keep doing this,” he murmured, his voice a slow seduction. “Teasing you, playing with you, making you tremble—”

His lips brushed lower—just above her blouse.

Her breath caught.

Her chest heaved, her body aching with a need she refused to name.

Vijayendra chuckled softly, darkly, his fingers slipping to the clasp of her waist chain.

Aaradhya’s eyes flew open.

That snapped her back to reality.

She shoved against him, breaking free.

“Enough!” she gasped, her face flushed, her breathing ragged.

Vijayendra took a step back, but the smirk on his lips told her he wasn’t even slightly affected.

If anything, he looked amused.

Aaradhya glared at him, desperately trying to control the trembling in her limbs.

“You’re insufferable,” she snapped.

He tilted his head, his eyes dark with challenge.

“And yet,” he murmured, stepping close again, brushing his thumb across her lower lip, making her breath stutter.

“You still let me touch you.”

Her stomach flipped.

She refused to respond.

With one last knowing smirk, Vijayendra turned and walked away, leaving her breathless, shaken, and completely lost in her own madness.

This man…

This man would be the death of her.

And worst of all?

A part of her was starting to want it.

---

Lots of love to you all

Love you all

Itsyourblackrose