Promise Of Love - A Forced Marriage (L&M #2) [COMPLETED]

Shot 50

"Make me forget, Mithran...." She whispered huskily, shocking Mithran and herself in the process.

"Chaahat..." Her name came out as a breathy whisper. Mithran was too shocked.

"Mithran please..."

"Chaahat, you are emotionally drained now. I don't want you to do something that you will regret the next morning." Mithran said softly, as he tried to pry his hands out of Chaahat's hold. But Chaahat held on tightly.

"This is a decision I am not going to regret, Mithran." There was confidence in Chaahat's words.

"I am sorry, Chaahat. I cannot do this." Mithran said and sprang up from the couch.

"Why?" Chaahat asked in a heartbreaking voice and Mithran looked at her in exasperation.

"Because I love you, damn it!" Mithran said furiously and the next thing he knew was Chaahat's lips on his.

Their lips met in a fiery, passionate kiss that left them both breathless. It was as if a floodgate of suppressed emotions had burst open, and there was no turning back. Mithran's resistance crumbled under the weight of his desire, and he surrendered to the intensity of the moment.

As their kiss deepened, Chaahat's hands moved from his wrists to the back of his neck, pulling him closer. Their tongues danced in a sensual, synchronised rhythm, exploring each other's mouths as if trying to convey all the unspoken words and emotions they had kept hidden for so long.

The room was filled with the intoxicating scent of their desire, and the world outside seemed to fade away. It was just Mithran and Chaahat, lost in the consuming flames of their love. They moved together, their bodies pressed close, as if trying to merge into one. Every touch, every caress, sent shivers down their spines, igniting a fire that threatened to consume them completely.

Mithran's hands roamed over Chaahat's body, tracing the curves and contours that he had only dreamt of touching. His fingers slid under the fabric of her blouse, and Chaahat arched her back in response, a soft moan escaping her lips. The sensation of her skin against his fingertips was electric, and it drove him to explore further.

Their kisses became more fervent, their breaths coming in ragged gasps. Mithran's hands found the clasp of Chaahat's bra and expertly undid it, freeing her breasts. He caressed them gently, eliciting a low, sensual moan from her. Chaahat's hands were not idle either; they had slipped beneath Mithran's shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin, tracing the contours of his muscular chest.

Their desire was a force of nature, impossible to resist. Mithran lifted Chaahat off the couch and carried her to the bedroom, never breaking their kiss. He laid her down gently on the bed, and their clothes began to disappear in a frenzy of urgency and longing.

As they lay naked before each other, their bodies illuminated by the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the curtains, Mithran couldn't help but marvel at the sheer beauty of the woman he loved. Chaahat's eyes sparkled with desire, her skin was like satin beneath his touch, and her lips were swollen from their passionate kisses.

With a tenderness that belied the intensity of their desire, Mithran caressed every inch of Chaahat's body, worshipping her with his hands, his lips, and his soul. Their bodies moved in perfect harmony, a symphony of love and longing.

Mithran whispered words of love and devotion in Chaahat's ear as he made love to her, each word a promise of a future together. Chaahat responded with equal fervour, her cries of pleasure mingling with his in the hushed darkness of the room.

Time lost all meaning as they soared to heights of ecstasy they had never known before. Their love was a powerful force, a bond that went beyond the physical realm. It was a union of souls, a culmination of their deep emotional connection, and a consummation of the love that had blossomed between them.

As the waves of pleasure washed over them, Mithran and Chaahat held onto each other tightly, their hearts beating in perfect synchrony. They knew that this moment was just the beginning of a lifetime of love and happiness together.

Afterward, they lay entwined in each other's arms, their bodies bathed in the afterglow of their lovemaking. The room was filled with a sense of peace and contentment that they had never known before. Mithran gazed into Chaahat's eyes, his heart overflowing with love and tenderness.

"I love you, Chaahat," Mithran whispered, his voice filled with emotion.

Chaahat remained silent and Mithran unconsciously recoiled away from the rejection that was coming his way.

As they lay together, Mithran's mind began to churn with anxious thoughts. He couldn't shake the nagging worry that perhaps Chaahat's passion had been a momentary impulse, a response to the intensity of the emotions she went through that night.

What if she regretted her actions once the heat of the moment faded? The fear of losing her now, after finally crossing the threshold of their desires, gnawed at him.

Mithran brushed his fingers gently through Chaahat's hair, trying to suppress his anxious thoughts, but they persisted like an unwelcome guest in his mind.

The intensity of their lovemaking had temporarily eclipsed his worries, but now they resurfaced like a relentless tide.

What if he had rushed into this? What if Chaahat regrets this moment of passion? His heart pounded in his chest as he contemplated the consequences of their impulsive actions.

He looked at Chaahat, her face still flushed with desire, her eyes filled with unknown emotions. Was this truly what she wanted, or had he allowed his own desires to overpower her emotional state?

'I love you, Chaahat,' he had declared, and though her silence had been brief, it echoed loudly in the corners of his consciousness. He had laid his heart bare, pouring out his deepest emotions, but was it enough? Did she truly reciprocate his feelings, or had he let his desires cloud his judgement?

Tension filled the room as Chaahat hesitated, her emotions battling within her. Mithran's heart pounded in his chest, fearing the worst, fearing that the love he had just confessed was not reciprocated.

But then, as if she had found the strength she needed, Chaahat finally spoke, her voice quivering with raw emotion.

"Mithran..."