Semua Bab WAVES OF WANT : Bab 81 - Bab 89

The morning light sliced sharp and pale through the kitchen blinds, painting stripes across the floor. The earlier storm had died hours ago, leaving behind thick, humid air that still carried the heavy and undeniable scent of what they had done. Sex, sweat, and sin clung tight to Aby’s skin and lingered deep in her bones, impossible to ignore or wash away. She stood gripping the edge of the counter so hard her knuckles almost turned white. She was barefoot in an oversized gray shirt…. one of his shirt and every small movement sent a dull, throbbing ache pulsing deep between her legs. Ben had fucked her over and over through the night, pinned against walls, across tables, and on the hard floor. He had filled her until she leaked him everywhere and marked every inch of her skin before finally slipping away to his room before dawn, leaving her sore, bruised, trembling, terrified and also fully satisfied. Heavy, familiar footsteps pulled her sharply back to the present.Ben filled the k

The lighting in the restaurant was low and warm. A honey gold lighting catching the rim of heavy crystal wine glasses and gilding every edge of the room. Conversation hummed around them, soft and indistinct, the clink of silverware gentle, the air perfumed with expensive scents, roasted garlic, and the faint earthy tang of red wine. Across the white linen tablecloth, Luke leaned forward, his crisp navy shirt unbuttoned at the collar, hair perfectly styled, watch catching the light as he reached out. He brushed a stray strand of hair from Sharon's cheek, his touch light, deliberate, and she leaned effortlessly into it, laughing at whatever he’d just said, eyes crinkling with practiced ease. She let him lift her hand to his mouth and kiss her knuckles slow, lingering, like he was savouring something rare. To anyone watching and people were watching, they were perfect... beautiful, wealthy, well matched, radiating comfort and mutual affection. But beneath the polished surface, beneath

The Mehta house was big, old, and full of rules. To everyone outside, it looked like the perfect kinda family home. The rich, well respected and untouchable. But inside, it felt like a cage.Grace had been married to Alpesh for three years. It was never a love match. Their fathers had arranged it when she was just twenty, to them, it's a way to tie their families closer and keep their money and status safe. Alpesh was charming when he needed to be — good at smiling, good at talking to guests, good at looking like the perfect husband. But behind closed doors, he was cold and distant. He treated Grace like something he owned, not someone he cared about. They shared a bed, but rarely touched each other. And when they did, it was quick and empty. Just something he did to mark her as his and nothing more.And then there was Darren.Darren wasn’t family by blood, but he had grown up here. His parents died in a car crash when he was twelve, and Alpesh’s father took him in. He was raised alon

This marriage was never written in hearts. A marriage with no love and affection but just duty and responsibility. It was written in ledgers and sealed with handshakes. Two family bonds and Grace was the link, the guarantee and the living proof of their alliance. To Alpesh, that made her less a wife and more a valuable asset despite her family wealth.For three days while he traveled out of town, the weight of that ownership lifted just enough for Grace to breathe. The house felt bigger, the air lighter, and the only person who looked at her and saw Grace — not the contract and not the alliance -- was Darren. Taken in as a boy after his parents died, raised under Alpesh’s roof, educated and given work, but always reminded: You owe us everything. You are family, but never equal.They met in the small, unused study tucked away in the east wing — a room with thick curtains, a lock that worked, and a door that never opened unless they wanted it to.The moment the key turned, all pretense

All through the next day, Lisa tried her hardest to keep up the act of normalcy. She sat at her kitchen desk, pretending to focus on work emails, but her eyes kept drifting to the window facing Alex’s house. She scrubbed the floors until they shone, rearranged the furniture, and even sorted through old clothes. Anything to occupy her hands and her mind. But no matter what she did, her thoughts circled right back to him. The solid, warm weight of his bare chest, the rough gentleness of his fingers on her skin, the way his voice dropped when he said things that made her burn from the inside out.She felt torn apart, restless and jittery, heavy with guilt, yet buzzing with a reckless, forbidden need and excitement she hadn’t felt in long. It was a dangerous mix, and it only grew sharper as the hours passed. She changed clothes twice, first into jeans and a blouse, then into something lighter. Finally, she settled on a soft, flowing sundress that ended just above her knees. The fabric wa