first kiss [special part]

Ridhima's phone buzzed, and she saw Veer's name flashing on the screen.

Veer: "Where are you?"

Ridhima: "At my home. Why?" she asked casually.

Veer let out a sigh. "Mom just told me that it's a ritual for the husband to pick up his wife from her home before the reception."

Ridhima frowned. "Veer, it's not necessary. You know this marriage isn't real."

Veer's voice was calm but firm. "Maybe not for us, but for our families, it is. And we agreed to do this properly for four months, remember?"

Ridhima fell silent for a moment. She knew he was right. Their deal might have boundaries, but for everyone else, they were Mr. and Mrs. Veer Arora.

Ridhima: "Fine. Come if you want."

Veer (smirking): "Oh, don't sound so excited, sweetheart."

Ridhima rolled her eyes, feeling a strange flutter in her chest as she ended the call.

Veer stepped into the Rajawat mansion, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on Ridhima.

She was laughing with her family, her head thrown back slightly, eyes sparkling with joy. It was different. He had never seen her like this before—so free, so effortlessly happy.

For a moment, he just stood there, watching.

She looked... beautiful. Not just in the way she always did, but in a way that made something shift inside him.

Before he could think too much about it, Ridhima noticed him. Her laughter faded, and she composed herself, walking toward him.

"Let's go," she said, picking up her purse.

Veer nodded, still lost in the image of her laughter as they walked toward the car.

The Car Ride

As they settled into the car, an unusual silence filled the space.

After a moment, Veer spoke, his voice casual. "Your reception dress and jewelry are ready. Mom prepared everything for you."

Ridhima glanced at him. "Oh... okay." She hadn't expected that. His mother was really treating her like a daughter-in-law.

Veer kept his eyes on the road. "She made sure everything is perfect. You'll like it."

Ridhima didn't respond immediately. She wasn't sure what she felt about all this—about the way his family was embracing this marriage so sincerely, while she knew it wasn't real.

But for tonight, she had to play her part. Mrs. Veer Arora.

Ridhima stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the pleats of her blood-red saree. The elegant fabric hugged her frame perfectly, and the delicate gold jewelry added the final touch. She looked stunning, the very picture of a newlywed bride.

Just as she turned around, Veer walked in.

Clash.

Before either of them could react, they lost their balance and fell—straight onto the bed.

Veer landed on top of Ridhima, their faces just inches apart.

For a second, everything froze.

His dark eyes locked onto hers, and Ridhima felt her heart hammer against her ribs. The warmth of his body pressed against hers, and suddenly, she was aware of every breath, every tiny movement.

Veer clenched his jaw, mentally telling himself to get up. He could feel the softness of her skin beneath his fingers, her scent surrounding him, making it impossible to think straight.

Control yourself, Veer.

He quickly pushed himself up, breaking the eye contact before it could pull him in deeper. Extending a hand toward her, he said, "Get up, Mrs. Arora."

Ridhima hesitated for a second, then took his hand. As soon as she was on her feet, Veer stepped back and cleared his throat. "I'll be ready in five minutes. Just wait."

Without another word, he grabbed his outfit and disappeared into the washroom.

Making Their Grand Entrance

True to his words, Veer was ready in five minutes. He wore a classic black tuxedo, looking effortlessly sharp and powerful.

Ridhima, now composed, placed her hand on his biceps as they walked downstairs together.

The crowd was waiting. Investors, business tycoons, family members, and the media—all gathered to see the grand reception of Mr. and Mrs. Veer Arora.

Cameras flashed as they stepped into the spotlight, their hands still locked together.

To the world, they were the perfect couple. But only they knew the truth.

The grand reception was in full swing—laughter, conversations, and the flashing of cameras surrounding Veer and Ridhima. Just as they were about to greet another guest, the atmosphere shifted.

The Rathore family had arrived.

A wave of murmurs spread through the hall as Mahendra Arora and Vikram Rathore, two business tycoons turned generational rivals, stood face to face. Their past rivalry was no secret, yet tonight, they exchanged polite but cold pleasantries.

And then, stepping forward with his signature cocky smirk, was Karan Rathore. The only son of the Rathore family—a man known for being Veer's biggest competitor and a constant headache for Devika.

Holding a bouquet of red roses, he walked towards Veer and Ridhima.

"Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Veer Arora." His tone was smooth, laced with something unreadable.

Before Ridhima could reach for the bouquet, Devika swiftly stepped in and took it.

Karan arched a brow, amusement flickering in his dark eyes. "I believe this is for the newlywed couple, not for you, Devika."

Devika, unfazed, held the bouquet tighter and said with a mocking smile,

"You're not exactly the type to give blessings, so don't pretend you are."

Karan smirked, his gaze locked onto hers. He took a small step closer, his voice dropping just for her to hear. "You seem to know me very well, Devika."

Devika didn't back down, tilting her head slightly, her eyes challenging. "One should always keep an eye on their rivals, Karan. Now, mind your own business."

His smirk widened, as if entertained by her defiance, but he said nothing more. With a casual shrug, he turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowd.

Devika exhaled, her fingers still gripping the bouquet tightly. Ridhima nudged her.

"You okay?"

Devika scoffed. "That man is insufferable." But the way her gaze lingered on Karan's retreating figure said something else entirely.

Karan smirked in satisfaction as he watched his carefully laid trap unfold. He had planted the question in the media circle, ensuring that the rumor about Veer and Ridhima's contract marriage would make headlines. If this went as planned, it would shake the Arora empire and stain their public image.

The grand reception was buzzing with flashing cameras and murmuring reporters. Veer stood beside Ridhima, his hand resting possessively on her waist.

The reporters started with casual questions—about how their married life was going, their honeymoon plans, and Ridhima's transition from Rajawat to Arora. Everything seemed normal.

Until a voice cut through the crowd.

"Mr. and Mrs. Arora, there's a rumor circulating that this marriage is nothing but a contract. That it's all for business, not love. Care to comment?"

The room tensed. Ridhima's breath hitched, and her fingers instinctively clutched the fabric of her saree. She turned to Veer, who stiffened.

"What the—?" Veer's mind raced. Who started this?

Suddenly, the question spread like wildfire.

"Is it true your marriage is fake?"

"Is this just a business deal?"

"Was this wedding just for family reputation?"

Ridhima's hands felt clammy. The flashes of cameras made her vision blur. She felt exposed.

And then—Veer moved.

In one swift motion, Veer cupped Ridhima's cheek and tilted her face towards him. Before she could even comprehend what was happening, he leaned in and kissed her.

The world stopped.

The room fell into complete silence.

The gentle press of his lips against hers was soft, slow, and undeniably real. He didn't rush. Didn't force. His thumb brushed against her cheek, as if assuring her that he was here. That no one could question what was happening between them.

Even Karan, watching from a distance, clenched his jaw. This was not the reaction he expected.

Ridhima, wide-eyed, felt her heart hammering against her ribs. She had never imagined Veer would do something like this. But the warmth of his lips, the way he held her like she was fragile yet precious, made her forget everything.

For a moment, they both got lost.

But then, reality crashed in.

Cameras. Media. Dozens of reporters.

They pulled apart.

Ridhima, breathing heavily, stared at Veer. Her lips still tingled, her mind still processing.

Veer, looking completely unfazed, turned back to the cameras and smirked. "Does that answer your question?"

The reporters were stunned into silence.

Karan, standing at the bar, clenched his drink harder than necessary. This wasn't over.

As soon as they stepped away from the crowd, Ridhima grabbed Veer's wrist and pulled him aside into a quiet hallway. Her heart was still racing, her lips still tingling from the unexpected kiss.

"What the hell was that, Veer?" she whispered, trying to keep her voice low but failing to hide her frustration.

Veer, standing tall in front of her, just smirked.

"What do you mean?" His voice was calm, deep, and teasing.

Ridhima's hands balled into fists. "You kissed me! In front of the entire media! When we agreed—no intimacy, no real marriage. How could you—"

Veer stepped closer.

So close that Ridhima felt his body heat radiate against her skin. So close that she could smell his intoxicating cologne.

She instinctively moved back, but the wall behind her stopped her escape.

Veer's dark eyes locked onto hers, and in a husky voice, he murmured, "Was there any other way to shut them up?"

Ridhima swallowed hard.

He leaned in, his lips almost brushing her ear. "And if I'm not wrong..." He paused, savoring her uneasiness. "You enjoyed it too, Mrs. Arora."

Ridhima's breath hitched.

Her face burned. Her pulse went wild.

"I—" She opened her mouth but couldn't say a single word.

Veer pulled back just enough to see her flustered expression. His smirk deepened.

"Speechless?" he mused.

Ridhima clenched her jaw, trying to compose herself. "That's not the point—"

"Oh, but it is," Veer interrupted. He tilted her chin up with his finger, forcing her to meet his intense gaze.

"You're my wife." His voice was low, possessive, and dangerously smooth.

"And kissing you? That's my right, sweetheart."

Ridhima felt her knees go weak.

Something about his authority, his confidence, the way he claimed his place in her life so effortlessly made her insides melt.

She hated that she felt this way.

She hated that her body reacted to his words before her mind could fight it.

Veer chuckled, clearly noticing her struggle. He leaned in one last time and whispered against her lips, "I hope you enjoyed the kiss... because it won't be the last."

With that, he walked away, leaving Ridhima standing there, frozen, her heart betraying her completely.

DID YOU GUYS LIKE MY SPECIAL PART OF THERE FIRST INTIMACY I HOPE YOU ARE WAITING FOR THIS....PLEASE FOLLOW AND COMNENT....AND VOTE AS WELL