Are you looking for a romantic love story...
Where a broken girl who don't believe in love, fell for her arranged husband...
Then here you go....
°•Ayushmaan Singh Shekhawat•°
At the age of 27, Ayushmaan Singh Shekhawat stands as the formidable CEO...
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The sensation of feeling safe under someone's touch represents a distinct form of intimacy, contrasting starkly with any previous experiences. It's an emotion I never encountered with him.
In today's world, the sense of peace and security that accompanies physical closeness is often undervalued. I used to believe that every individual yearns for someone who encourages them to lower their defenses, to be authentic, and to love without reservation. However, my perspective on these sentiments has changed.
I no longer subscribe to the belief in such sentiments.
Allowing oneself to lower defenses only invites personal anguish, as it entails granting someone the potential to enter your life and cause irreparable harm, leaving no room for recovery.
I vividly recall my mother's wise counsel:
'When you hold a man's hand and he quickens your heartbeat, leaving you giddy and exhilarated, quietly walk away, for he is not meant for you. But if his touch makes you feel warm, at home, and secure, hold onto him, for he is the one who will stand by you, no matter the circumstances.'
At that time, I failed to grasp my mother's words, or perhaps I simply chose not to, as I was deeply enamored with Nakul.
Love indeed has a way of blinding us!
I had never experienced these emotions until now.
Until today...
Ayushmaan ji's intense gaze, his gentle touch against my skin, his breath near my neck, his fingers lightly tracing my waist, and his deep, husky voice still resonating in my ears—none of it caused discomfort. Instead, his proximity and every gesture imparted a profound sense of security, protection, and safety.
It felt as though I had returned home after a long and arduous journey.
It felt like discovering a sanctuary where I could feel impregnable.
It felt like a refuge where my deepest fears would no longer haunt me.
And inexplicably, my heart yearns to experience these sensations again, as if it has been searching for peace all along, and now, beneath his touch, it finds solace it has craved for the past six months.
"What are you doing here?"
A deep, cold, husky voice whispered near my ear, causing my heart to skip several beats. I stood by the large window in the hall of his floor, hesitating to go downstairs as instructed by my mother-in-law. She had emphasized the importance of us being together for our reception today, to avoid gossip about our relationship being a sham or lacking in love—scenarios I desperately wished to avoid.
Turning around, I was met with a pair of dark brown eyes that seemed to pierce right through me with their intensity, threatening to melt me where I stood. I averted my gaze from his face and noticed him dressed impeccably in an expensive red Armani suit, tailored to perfection as if it had been made specifically for him.
