Lust Tied in Love

Chapter 4 – Heat Between the Shadows

Myra stood in front of the massive penthouse window, her breath fogging the glass. Behind her, Aarav waited, shirtless now, the sharp lines of his body half-lit by the amber glow of the fireplace.

But the heat that had been pulsing between them moments ago was smothered by a single word.

Godfather.

Aarav's voice echoed in her head like a ghost.

(“He funded my company. Protected me. Disappeared when it all went south. I never stopped looking for him.”)

Vikram Sen—her father. The man who abandoned his family. The man she swore she’d never speak of again.

And now, Aarav—the man who had his mouth on her neck just minutes ago—was connected to him. Bound in blood money, in secrets, and in something darker.

“You knew,” she said at last, her voice cold.

“No,” he replied, stepping closer. “I suspected. I had no idea you were his daughter until I saw that photograph in your notebook.”

She turned. “The one you stole.”

Aarav didn’t deny it.

“I needed to be sure.”

Myra folded her arms tightly, the silk of her dress clinging to her curves, her n*****s still taut from the heat of his touch. Her body was at war with her mind.

And the worst part? Her body was winning.

“I should walk out of here,” she said. “Call my editor. Run the whole damn story.”

“Then do it,” Aarav said calmly. “Expose me. Ruin me.”

She didn’t move.

Because deep down, she knew this wasn’t just about a story anymore. This was about her father. The truth. And the man standing in front of her with secrets in his blood and lust in his eyes.

Aarav stepped forward. “I didn’t bring you here to seduce you, Myra. I brought you here because I trust you. Because I need you.”

He paused, then added in a voice lower than sin.

“And yes… because I want to hear you moan my name while I’m buried inside you.”

Her pulse pounded.

“You’re sick,” she whispered, but her knees were already weak.

“I’m yours,” he said, brushing his lips against her jaw. “If you want me.”

She hated herself for it.

But she did.

They collided like fire and gasoline.

Aarav lifted her with a growl, her legs wrapping around his waist, the dress sliding up her thighs. He laid her on the bed like something precious, but kissed her like something sinful. His mouth moved down her body—neck, collarbone, the valley between her breasts—tongue flicking, tasting, claiming.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured.

She didn’t.

His hands slid beneath the silk, fingers finding slick heat.

“No panties again?” he whispered.

“I don’t like barriers,” she breathed, eyes dark.

He chuckled against her thigh. “Neither do I.”

She gasped when his mouth replaced his fingers. He devoured her like she was dessert after years of starvation. Her fingers tangled in his hair, hips bucking, thighs trembling.

“Myra,” he growled, voice rough, “you taste like f*****g heaven.”

And when she shattered around his tongue, moaning his name, he looked up at her like he’d just claimed his favorite sin.

Later, tangled in sheets and heavy breath, Myra stared at the ceiling.

“Why now?” she asked. “Why give me that file?”

Aarav’s arm draped over her waist. “Because you deserve to know. And because something’s coming, Myra. Something bigger than either of us.”

She turned to face him. “Like what?”

He exhaled. “There’s someone else—someone who didn’t want your father found. Who wants the past buried. And they know you’re digging.”

A chill ran down her spine.

“Do you think they’re watching me?”

“I know they are.”

She pulled the sheet up, suddenly feeling exposed.

“You’re not safe anymore,” Aarav said quietly.

“I was never safe,” Myra whispered back. “Not since you walked into my life.”

He smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“But you will,” she said, voice steady.

He didn’t argue.

An hour later, Myra stood in the elevator, dress wrinkled, hair tousled, lips swollen from his kisses.

Her phone buzzed.

Unknown Number:

You’re in bed with the devil, Miss Sen. Ready to burn?

She froze.

Another message came in. A photo.

Her.

Leaving the penthouse.

From outside the hotel.

Someone had been watching.

And they wanted her to know.