[FEATURED IN WATTPAD INDIA PROFILE]
❝Pioneering the art of constructing love, my Kanmani.❞
Xavier teased her skin, slowly caressing her cheeks and her lips trembled.
❝You don't dare!❞
And he kissed her.
------
When he had compromised his dreams and...
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OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMURUGAAAA!!!
Krithika wanted to fly to the peaks of the Himalayas and never return to Chennai or anywhere for that matter. Her whole body burned like she was getting deep fried in the sizzling oil of the hell, the hell of Lucifer.
What had you thought when you had flung your kurti off your head and had asked, no, begged him to fuck you in the open field?
Can you please stop, I want to cry and you are making it worse!
Cry? You better shut up and listen to me, just fucking leave everything and run away now!
No, I love him!
Krithika, you absolute piece of shit, your love for him--
"Darling, breathe..."
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Krithika scowled and stared at Xavier's face as he knelt in front of her. His face held a grim expression, and she blinked her eyes rapidly before hissing, "Dafuq should I breathe? Just because I am not properly visible in this..." She pointed at her phone. "...stupid photo doesn't mean that these people won't have a conclusive shit against me!"
Looking at her phone screen, he nodded to one of the men sitting around them and commented, "It'll be taken care of in a few minutes. Don't worry."
"Don't worry?" she sneered. "Yeah, what is there to worry about, right?"
"I had asked my men to leave us alone that day. Perhaps these folks had followed us."
"You, not us!" she snapped, forcing him to flinch back. "You dare declare me as your fucking soon-to-be wife and then this? All bullshit!"
Oh, so she's angry about that.
Xavier stood straight and noticed the security guys sitting around them were trying hard to act neutral. Shaking his head, he sighed. "We can talk about that once we reach our home," he said.
"Your, not our."
"Okay."
"Fuck you, the sensational multimillionaire," he heard her mutter under her breath.
Irate—that was the emotion at the center of his mind. He was too furious to reply to anything, yet his body reacted like a horny teen high on testosterone, getting harder with every word Krithika angrily spat at him.
God, this woman!
He sat in his seat and closed his eyes, massaging his temple as he felt the onset of a migraine hitting his head.
I just want to go home and sleep.
And you should fuck her, hard enough to make her see through her bullshit and put some sense in that—
Please, don't start now.
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"Krithika..."
He tried to call, pacing behind her as she bolted, throwing away her shoes and bag on her way to the living room. She tossed her jacket across the room, striking a poor vase that took her wrath and fell to shatter into pieces.
Turning around to face him, she screamed, "Don't you Krithika me now! Do you even think before you speak?"
He narrowed his eyes at her.
Crossing her arms over her chest, she spat, "Wife?" as if being his wife was some sort of abominable, incurable disease.
It hurt him. "So? What do you think we're doing with each other?" he bit back. "What are we? Fuck buddies who unfortunately love each other?"
She kept silent.
Fucking answer me!
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Do tell me what you feel about this and the upcoming chapters, always open to positive criticism.
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