His Desirable Possession

2: His Yearning

December 2019: The IMPERIAL palace penthouse, 11:30 pm, Delhi

“Get OUT.” His fuming voice froze the whole room.

Though his face remained as hard as rock without emitting any emotions, his eyes spoke the values of burning furry he is feeling for the s**t face thing in front of him. Thus making the lady who was sent by his good-for-nothing cousin to please him, shiver in fright and run for her life taking her –ho so gracefully discarded in order to seduce him on floor-over coat and handbag.

After working for hours without any rest, he just wanted to go home and bury himself in alcohol and in her memories until he collapses on his lonely bed as always. 

With that thought in mind he freshened up and came out of the room only to see a lady in his dimly lit living room removing her coat and walking towards him like a pig drowning in drainage.

It took only four steps towards him and one look at his face for her to realize that she is not in a pleasure paradise with some billionaire instead a living hell called IRYA RAJVIR SINGH!!. Who rules the corporate world and the devil incarnation with whom everyone is aware of not to cross the path with. 

The guards bringing her here with blind fold and a some stranger’s instructions about not to talk at all in front of the person she going to serve, not to discuss what happens inside with anyone, everything made sense at that time to her.

After her realization she was about to dash out from that place, when his thunderous voice boomed in otherwise silent room. 

Who in their right mind would want to be in the vicinity of the SATHAN?! And she is perfectly fine in brain department and she loves her life. So, upon hearing the exact words she wanted to hear she ran for her life.

How dare that asshole cousin of his to disturb him and waste his 10 minutes of time with that disgusting piece of a s**t! And he is so going to pay for this outrageous act of his.

To balance the about to burst volcano inside with alcohol, he made his way to the bar. Making himself a strong drink and holding it in his left hand and the bottle in other hand he made his way into his room. 

Lazily stretching his long legs on the dark black recliner and gazing at the dark sky through the floor to ceiling windows, he started to gulp down the only medicine for his burning pain inside.

“It’s been 3 years 6 months 3 weeks and 14 days since that beautiful night happened and last I saw you. It’s been so long that I gazed at your eyes, I touched you, I kissed you, I held you and I had you. After all this time I still remember the first time my eyes laid on you, and finding out the most breathtakingly beautiful eyes I have ever seen. Kissing your pink lips, and holding your trembling form under my body and devouring your divine beauty to the fullest, having you again and again to the last drop of my energy, is all so fresh in my mind”.

“But, that wasn’t meant to be one night. My DESIRE for you is not as simple as to satisfy within one night, it meant to be eternal, for every f*****g day and night until I take my last breath. But the night I made you mine I lost you”. 

Breathing heavily and closing his eyes he went back to the memory lane once again.

“This desire of mine is killing me. The thoughts of your innocent beauty, your tempting fragrance, your temptress like body making me go insane day by day”. Without another word chunking remaining scotch in glass and crashing it on the floor, he dashed to his bathroom.

Standing under the shower with raged breath and closed eyes where a ice cold water came in all the 6 directions with full speed to quench his hormones, he stood still putting both palms on the wall with clenched jaw. 

“Still how many more cold showers should I take until I have you for real? This, this thirst, this yearning of mine is only you can satisfy, you are the only cure. Please come back to me.” 

Taking all the built up frustration on wall he punched it so hard that his knuckles started to bruise, but instead of a painful groan only one word came from his lips, with raged breath for all too different pain.

"SARAA".

Coming out from the bathroom with different set of sweat pants again, emptying the three fourth empty bottle of freshly opened scotch directly from bottle, he fell on his cold bed. 

Completely immersed in her memories THE mighty KING didn’t give f**k about the tear that started to soak his pillow until his exhausted eyes and body surrendered to the darkness.