His grip on her waist tightened as his other hand moved with determined precision.

Without a word, he began gathering the thick fabric between them and, with one swift

motion, pushed her down again.

She froze. Her wide eyes met his. She felt it—hard, unyielding, pressing against her intimacy

through the thin fabric of her underdress.

“Sheharyaar...” Her voice trembled as she uttered his name, a faint plea laced with hesitation

and fear. She wanted to stop him, to beg him not to cross the ...