Her back arched beguilingly as his cold fingers trailed down the bare flesh over her spine, almost like unfinished sentences. The proximity between their bodies making her squirm in delight, as his beautiful presence suffocated her.
He was one of those men who were secretly terrified of the pink feeling, called love. He was afraid of the abyss of warm emotions, scared to seduce the euphoria it brought along and frightened to embosom a chance of a crumbling heart.
His hands electrified her deep-sighted desires. Her will crumbled before his delightfully hoarse laugh and her heart tore out of her chest, flying right into his secure grasp. His long fingers tickled her peace and stroked her ecstasy and he yanked her chin closer to his mouth.
She gripped his arms, inviting him in. Yet, when she gave him a chance to take a step back into his reclusive bliss, he paused. Who was she to order him around? That is what he had thought. Hence, he incessantly treaded upon the dangerous grounds.
His gunmetal grey eyes were now a molten diamond flame as she accepted his affection. What a pity it was that she fought him every step of the way. How unfortunate it was when she fell deeper into the spell of his love, secretly wanting him but stubbornly denying it.
Her wet lips parted as he caressed her hair fondly. Her lips were strangely a dark shade of red, almost like the drops of crimson blood staining the luscious pink. Her hooded eyes turned to slits, eyelids fluttering, dark lashes settling to excite her flushed cheeks.
He pulled back almost too quickly for her brain to register what had transpired. She let her eyes snap open and her lips curled into a frown. She was alone, back in her dark room with miserable hollowness flooding back. The ache seized her being as realisation hit her. He was gone.
His smile faded. She was no more. And she had taken his heart with him, leaving an empty space behind, clattering with rumbling emotions. Relentless wishes burned vigorously as he tried to, yet again, drug himself out of her love.
Here she was, veiling her melancholy with a brash exterior. Her flesh turned chalky as she bled, the traitorous knife hidden somewhere in the folds of her dark dress. Her sunken eyes darted around like a starved tiger's, searching for the man who had stolen her spirit.
His lips cracked into a feral snarl at the thought of loving her because now there was nothing but oblivion masking his soul. And oblivion brought along poisonous hatred which etched into his mien, feeding the caged wickedness within him.
Hadn't they known this already? After all they were never meant to be, with him being a philophobic and her being the one who loves unconditionally. Their dreams had turned into nightmares as the rich brat and the poor orphan were bound by their worlds.
And that is how their story would stain the pages of history, the story of Shivaay Singh Oberoi and his enticing daydream Anika.
Author's Note :- Kindly visit my fan fiction in case any of you dear readers wish to.
Taming The Oberois
http://www.india-forums.com/forum_posts.asp?TID=4665272
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