The masquerade had ended, but the night hadn't let them go. The corridors were hushed, gilded lamps burning low, the faint hum of laughter and music still echoing from the hall. Simran leaned against the cold marble, her pulse quick, her mask abandoned.
She felt him before she saw him.
Junaid emerged from the shadows, unmasked, his gaze locked onto her with a hunger that had been simmering all night. The way his eyes roamed herslow, deliberately made her skin prickle with awareness.
"Running away, Simran?" His voice was rough, the edge in it scraping against the quiet.
She tilted her chin, refusing to step back even as he closed the distance. "I wasn't running. Just… breathing."
"Breathing," he repeated, as if testing the word, his eyes dragging over her again. His laugh was low, humorless. "Do you even know what you've done to me tonight?"
Simran's lips curved into a dangerous smile. "Maybe."
That was all it took. His hand braced against the wall beside her head, the other hovering at her waist before finally giving in, gripping firmly, pulling her closer until her back hit the pillar. Their bodies nearly touched, heat sparking at every inch that hovered between them.
"Every man in that hall wanted you," Junaid muttered, his voice breaking with restraint. "I could see it in their eyes. Hear it in their voices." His breath grazed her cheek, his lips close enough that she could feel the tremor of his words. "And all I wanted was to tear them away from you."
Simran's heart raced, but she didn't waver. "Then why didn't you?"
His hand tightened at her waist, pressing her flush against him, no space left to hide. The sudden closeness pulled a sharp breath from her, and his eyes darkened at the sound. "Because if I started, I wouldn't stop."
Her fingers twitched at her side, aching to touch him, to bridge the last barrier. Instead, she leaned in just enough, her lips grazing the shell of his ear. "What if I don't want you to stop?"
A groan escaped him, low and strangled, as though it had been ripped straight from his chest. His forehead pressed against hers, his control hanging by a thread. His thumb brushed the bare skin of her waist now, sending heat flooding through her.
"Simran," he whispered, her name breaking on his tongue, "you have no idea how close I am to losing it."
She smiled, soft but dangerous, her breath mingling with his. "Maybe I want you to."
His jaw clenched, his entire body trembling with the effort of restraint. For one suspended heartbeat, he hovered her lips ghosting hers, breath ragged, his hand burning into her skin.
And then he froze. Didn't close the gap. Didn't give in. His voice came out in a hoarse whisper, broken and raw. "If I kiss you now… I won't let you go."
Simran's eyes flickered with fire, her smile faint but merciless. "Who said I wanted to be let go?"
The silence between them was molten, unbearable, a knife's edge away from breaking. Every muscle in his body was taut, his hand still locked at her waist, his lips trembling a breath away from hers.
The world outside was gone. There was only heat, restraint, and the slow, devastating burn of desire restrained too long.
Junaid's hand didn't leave her waist. It couldn't. His fingers pressed into her lightly, possessive without meaning to, his thumb brushing small, restless circles against her side as though his body betrayed what his mind still tried to restrain.
Simran's breath caught at the touch, but she didn't move away. She leaned into him instead, her voice soft, almost taunting. "You're shaking."
He exhaled sharply, his forehead still pressed against hers. "Because you don't understand, Simran. Every second tonight watching you smile at them, dance under those lights was hell for me." His lips hovered at her temple, the faintest ghost of contact making her shiver. "And now you're here. Looking at me like that. Saying things like that."
Her lashes lowered, her smile subtle but deliberate. "Maybe I like seeing you lose control."
That broke something in him. His other hand came up, bracing against the wall on the opposite side of her head, trapping her completely between his body and the marble. He was close now so close she could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat against her chest, the heat of him pouring into her like fire.
"You think this is a game?" His voice was hoarse, raw. "You think I won't take what you're offering?"
Simran tilted her head, brushing her cheek against his ever so slightly. The movement was intimate, intentional, her words a whisper that sent his restraint unraveling thread by thread. "Maybe I'm waiting to see if you're brave enough."
He groaned again, rougher this time, his jaw tightening as his nose grazed along her hairline. His lips almost touched her skin hovering, trembling like every inch of him begged to close that final gap.
"Don't test me," he whispered, the sound dangerous and desperate at once. "Because one kiss won't be enough. I'll ruin you, Simran. You don't know how badly I want to."
Her hand finally moved, fingers brushing against his chest, light as air, but enough to make him stiffen under her touch. She felt the rapid thrum of his heart beneath her palm, felt his control snapping by the second.
Her smile deepened, voice steady despite the storm inside her. "Maybe I want to be ruined."
That was it. His body pressed harder against hers, his grip at her waist firm, his lips dragging down to hover just above the corner of her mouth. One breath more and it would be a kiss.
But then he stopped.
He pulled back only a fraction, his eyes burning, his chest heaving. The war between restraint and desire raged across his face. He swallowed hard, voice low, guttural. "Not tonight. If I start tonight, I won't stop until you're mine. And you… you deserve more than being claimed in the shadows of an empty hall."
Simran's pulse pounded at his words, her body thrumming with the ache of everything left unfinished. She met his gaze, her eyes glinting with something equal parts challenge and promise.
"Then you'd better be ready for when I stop running," she whispered.
His answering smile was sharp, dangerous, laced with hunger. He brushed his thumb once more against her waist, slow and lingering, before finally stepping back. But his eyes promised this wasn't over.