95. Healing - Trick

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Daksh sat at his work desk, his gaze flickering between the documents in front of him and his wife, who was curled up on the couch, completely engrossed in her novel.

The faint glow of the bedside lamp illuminated her face, casting soft shadows that made her look even more mesmerizing.

With one hand beneath his chin, he simply watched her, an amused smile playing on his lips.

The way her brows furrowed in concentration, how her lips curled up ever so slightly when she read something interesting—it was a sight he could watch forever.

After a moment, he leaned back and finally spoke, breaking the silence.

"What are you reading so seriously?"

Divya barely reacted, her eyes still glued to the book. A dreamy sigh left her lips, and she muttered, "Something great happened finally."

Daksh raised an eyebrow at her response. He got up from his chair and quietly walked over to where she sat, leaning down from behind her to glance at the book in her hands.

She was so lost in the words that she didn’t even notice his presence.

His eyes scanned the page she was reading, and the moment he caught onto what had her so captivated, he let out a soft chuckle.

"The characters just had their first kiss, huh?" he teased, his voice laced with amusement.

Divya stiffened at his words, snapping the book shut as she turned her head sharply to look at him.

Her wide eyes met his mischievous ones, her face instantly heating up.

He smirked at her reaction and moved around the couch, coming to stand in front of her.

His hands rested casually in his pockets, his tall frame looming over her, making her even more flustered.

"Why settle for reading about kisses when you can experience them?" he said smoothly, tilting his head slightly as he watched her cheeks turn an even deeper shade of red.

Divya’s breath hitched, and she instinctively pulled the book closer to her chest as if it could protect her from his teasing.

"Daksh ji!" she exclaimed, flustered beyond belief.

He merely chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he leaned in ever so slightly. His gaze flickered to her lips, and her stomach twisted in nervous anticipation.

Then, his expression shifted slightly, his teasing smirk fading into something softer. "Is your cut still burning?" he asked, his voice quieter now.

Divya blinked at the sudden change in his tone. She swallowed and gave a small nod, unsure of what he was thinking.

Daksh's smirk returned as he watched Divya squirm under his teasing gaze.

The pink hue on her cheeks, the way her lips parted slightly in shock—it was too tempting not to push her further.

"You know, Honeypie," he murmured, his fingers tracing slow, lazy patterns on her wrist,

"Since you trust those books so much, you should know they say that wounds heal faster with saliva."

Divya's breath hitched, and she swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way her heartbeat pounded in her ears.

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to an intimate whisper. "Maybe we should test it. See if it really works."

Her eyes widened in sheer disbelief, her lips parting in protest. "W-we?" she stuttered, blinking rapidly as the implication of his words sank in.

Daksh chuckled, thoroughly enjoying her reaction. "Hmm," he hummed, tilting his head slightly, his intense gaze fixed on her lips. "Yes, we."

Before she could form another panicked response, he closed the distance between them, capturing her lips in a soft yet undeniably needy kiss.

Divya froze for a fraction of a second, her breath stolen by the warmth of his lips against hers.

The kiss was gentle at first—an unspoken question, a silent plea for her to respond.

But as his hand cupped the side of her face, his thumb grazing the curve of her jaw, it deepened, growing more insistent, more consuming.

A shiver ran down her spine as she instinctively gripped the fabric of his shirt, her fingers curling into the material as if holding on for dear life.

Daksh groaned softly against her lips, savoring the way she melted against him, her hesitation gradually fading.

His other hand found its way to her waist, pulling her even closer, until there was no space left between them.

Her mind was in complete chaos.

She had read about moments like these countless times in her novels, but experiencing it firsthand was something entirely different.

It was dizzying.

Overwhelming.

Heart-stopping.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against hers, his breath warm against her skin.

His dark eyes burned into hers, filled with something raw and unreadable.

"See?" he whispered, his voice husky. "Told you we should try it."

Divya, still trying to catch her breath, could only stare at him, her face burning.

She wanted to say something—anything—but all she managed was a soft, breathless whisper.

He chuckled, his grip on her tightening ever so slightly. "You're adorable when you're flustered."

Her lips still tingled from his touch, her heart refusing to calm down.

She didn't know if the so-called "healing trick" actually worked—but at that moment, she didn’t care.

Because in his arms, every wound, every hesitation, every doubt seemed to disappear.

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Daksh tilted his head slightly, his dark eyes dancing with amusement as he studied her. "So, did it heal?" he asked, his voice laced with teasing mischief.

Divya parted her lips, but no words came out. She was still trying to recover from what had just happened. From him. From the kiss.

Maybe it didn’t…?

Daksh smirked knowingly at her silence. "Ah, I see," he murmured, his voice a low drawl.

He leaned in just a fraction, enough for her breath to hitch. "Maybe that kiss wasn’t the solution after all."

She stiffened, heat rushing to her cheeks, but this time, she didn’t lower her gaze.

Daksh chuckled at her sudden burst of courage. "Hmm. Interesting," he mused, pulling back.

He straightened, stretching his arms lazily.

"Perhaps you need something else to fix it," he teased, flashing her a knowing smirk before stepping back toward the bed.

Divya blinked at him, confused for a moment. Then, realization hit her as he sat down, a smug look on his face.

He was waiting. Testing her.

A challenge.

Her fingers curled around her book, gripping it so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

Daksh, clearly entertained by her dilemma, sighed dramatically and fell back onto the bed, closing his eyes as if bored.

"Guess it wasn’t meant to be," he murmured, lips twitching. "Shame."

Divya swallowed hard.

Something inside her shifted.

She wasn’t sure what had come over her, but she was tired of overthinking, of feeling nervous under his gaze, of letting him always have to tease her.

Before she could second-guess herself, she moved.

Daksh heard the rustle of fabric, the shift of weight on the bed, and before he could process it, warmth enveloped his side.

His eyes flew open, only to see Divya sitting beside him, her body turned toward him, her fingers trembling slightly on her lap.

He barely had time to react before she hesitantly met his gaze, her own eyes swirling with an emotion he hadn’t seen in her before.

Surprise flickered across his face, but amusement quickly took over.

He tried to sit up, only for her to stop him—her fingers brushing against his wrist, just barely holding him in place.

Daksh stilled.

He barely had time to react before he felt a sudden tug on his wrist, and the next thing he knew—soft lips crashed against his.

His breath hitched.

Divya was kissing him. Again.

For a moment, all he could do was freeze, his mind processing what had just happened.

His shy, blushing, easily flustered wife had just pulled him into a kiss.

And not hesitantly, not timidly—this time, she took the initiative.

Daksh felt the warmth of her lips, soft yet urgent, as she kissed him again.

The boldness of her move sent a jolt of surprise through him, but it quickly melted into amusement.

She wasn’t the same flustered Divya he loved teasing—no, this time, she had taken the lead.

His heartbeat quickened.

Her hands clutched at the front of his shirt, her fingers gripping the fabric tightly as if grounding herself.

The taste of her, a faint mix of vanilla and something undeniably her, filled him, making his senses reel.

She pulled back slightly, her breath mingling with his.

Her lips parted, her voice barely above a whisper.

"You thought I wouldn’t?"

A mischievous glint danced in her eyes, a playful smirk tugging at her lips.

"I'm the best hacker ever, Daksh ji."

His smirk mirrored hers.

Oh, she was playing with fire now.

"Is that so?" His voice was husky, laced with something dark, something possessive.

Before she could reply, he yanked her against him, his hands firm around her waist.

She let out a soft gasp, but he silenced it with his lips, claiming her in a kiss that left no room for hesitation.

It was deeper this time, slower, as if he were savoring her.

His lips moved against hers, teasing, testing, pulling her deeper into the moment.

A soft whimper escaped her throat, and he felt her relax against him, surrendering to his touch.

His fingers traced lazy circles against her waist, his touch featherlight yet electric.

The warmth of her skin seeped through the thin fabric of her dress, sending shivers down her spine.

She felt dizzy, overwhelmed by the intensity of him. But she didn’t pull away. She didn’t want to.

Daksh smirked against her lips, breaking the kiss just enough to murmur, "Then hack this, meri jaan."

And just like that, she was completely, hopelessly lost in him.

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It was soft, yet urgent—like they had waited forever but never wanted it to end.💕✨💙