The kitchen lights were dim, throwing a soft golden glow against the grey of the storm outside. The rain had grown heavier, drumming against the glass in a steady rhythm. It was the kind of night the city seemed to fold in on itself, leaving the world quiet except for the sound of water and heartbeats.

Rajveer didn't step away when he turned her on the counter; he closed the space between them as if the weeks of restraint had been nothing but a slow wind-up to this exact second. His hands framed her face, fingers sliding back into her hair, thumbs brushing the flushed curve of her cheeks.

"You have no idea," he murmured, his forehead resting briefly against hers, "how hard it's been... to stand in front of you every day and pretend you're just another student."

Her breath trembled. "And I have to pretend you're just... my professor."

That earned her the faintest, dangerous smile - the kind that meant he was done pretending. His mouth found hers again, slower this time, as if he wanted to relearn the shape of her lips after too many days of stolen glances.

One arm wound firmly around her waist, pulling her flush against him. She felt the solid strength of him, the subtle shift of muscles under his shirt as he deepened the kiss. The other hand moved to her thigh, anchoring her closer on the counter. She gasped softly against his mouth, and he took the sound like a gift, kissing her harder.

Outside, the storm rattled the balcony railing. Inside, the air felt charged - the same kind of pressure that came before lightning.

"I watched you today," he said against her neck, each word low, deliberate. "The way your hand didn't even tremble when you wrote. You're the top of your class, bchcha - but you're mine before you're anything else."

Her fingers curled into the fabric at his shoulders, the professor's crisp shirt now rumpled between her hands. "You make it impossible to focus sometimes," she whispered.

"That's because I want your focus on me." He pulled back just enough to look at her, the dark intensity in his eyes locking her in place. "And now, you can give it to me... without the rest of the world watching."

He lowered his head again, tracing slow, heated kisses along her collarbone. Every press of his lips left a trail of warmth that seemed to sink into her skin, claiming her in ways words never could. His hand on her thigh flexed, fingers pressing just enough to remind her of his strength, of the control he could exercise - and break - at will.

Her heartbeat drummed in her ears. She tilted her head back, giving him access, her own shyness dissolving under the weight of his certainty.

"You're not leaving this counter until I'm done with you," he murmured, and though his voice was velvet-soft, the promise in it was unshakable.

The storm outside roared louder, and inside, their world narrowed to nothing but breath, touch, and the knowledge that the walls between them - professor, student, secret - were gone for the night.

The counter beneath her was cool against her legs, but Rajveer's hands were anything but. They roamed with slow precision - never hurried, never unsure - as though he were mapping something he'd memorized a hundred times but still craved like it was new.

He kissed her until the world narrowed to the faint taste of rain on the air and the deep, steady rhythm of his breathing against her. Then, without warning, he broke the kiss, his eyes holding hers with an unreadable intensity.

"Come."

His voice was low, the kind that didn't need to be raised to be obeyed. His hands slipped to her waist, lifting her down from the counter as easily as if she weighed nothing.

The living room was dim, shadows swaying across the walls from the rain-blurred lights outside. He didn't stop until they reached the balcony doors. The glass rattled faintly under the storm's force.

He slid the door open, and a rush of cool, rain-heavy air wrapped around them.

"You'll catch a cold-" she began, but the words died when he pulled her out with him, the rain instantly kissing their skin, soaking into fabric.

"I want to see you in this light," he said, his thumb brushing over the raindrops on her cheek. "No books. No classroom. Just you."

The city beyond was a blur of wet rooftops and shimmering streetlamps. Rain fell steady, pooling along the balcony rail. She could feel the storm in the air, a hum that seemed to match the current between them.

Rajveer's hands slid up her arms, fingertips finding the damp edges of her sleeves. "Do you know what I thought about every time I watched you in class?"

She swallowed, her pulse tripping. "What?"

He leaned in, his mouth close enough that his words were felt more than heard. "That every answer you gave, every perfect sentence, was mine first. That your brilliance belongs to me before it belongs to the university."

Her breath caught, the mix of rain-chill and his heat making her head spin.

He pressed her gently back until the balcony wall was at her spine. The rain had already dampened her hair, plastering soft strands against her face, and he brushed them aside with the backs of his fingers.

"You are not just my student," he said, his voice dark silk. "You are my wife. And I will never let the world forget that - even if they never know."

His mouth claimed hers again, harder this time. Rain spilled over them, cooling flushed skin, dripping from their hair. Her hands found the front of his shirt - damp now, clinging to the solid lines of his chest - and she felt his heartbeat under her palms.

When he pulled back, he was breathing harder, though his eyes never lost their sharp control. "Inside," he said, and the word was both command and promise.

The door slid shut behind them with a muted thud, sealing out the roar of the rain but not the electric charge it had brought with them. Ishki stood still for a moment, water trickling down her sleeves, her breath unsteady.

Rajveer didn't give her long to recover. His hands were on her again, decisive, pulling her toward the bedroom with steps that brooked no pause.

Her pulse stumbled with every stride. She knew this version of him - the one who'd been silent through staff meetings, cold and unreadable to the world, only to become all heat and intent the moment they were alone.

The bedroom light was low, warm against the storm's silver flicker at the window. Rain still drummed hard on the glass, the wind carrying occasional sprays against it.

Rajveer turned, closing the gap between them in two measured steps. His fingers found the edge of her damp sleeve, peeling it back slowly, deliberately, as if testing how long it would take her to break the silence.

"You looked so calm today," he murmured, his tone both proud and faintly accusing. "Sitting there in that classroom, writing as if I wasn't three seats away, watching every move you made."

Her voice was barely audible. "I couldn't let anyone see."

"And now?" His eyes locked on hers, searching, pinning.

She hesitated. "Now... there's no one to see."

The faintest smirk touched his mouth before his hand slid to the back of her neck, guiding her into a kiss that was all rain-warm skin and pent-up weeks. She melted against him, her fingers curling into his still-damp shirt, feeling the steady, anchoring press of his palm at her spine.

When he pulled back, his lips stayed near her ear, his breath warm. "I don't care if you were the top of that exam. Tonight, I only want you to remember one thing - that you're mine before you're anything else."

The words sank deep, low and certain, sending a shiver through her that had nothing to do with the chill of wet clothes.

He moved them toward the bed without letting her go, his hands never breaking contact - sometimes at her waist, sometimes brushing along her arm, always reminding her he was there, in control.

The storm outside seemed to echo the rhythm of her heart - relentless, impossible to ignore.

When they reached the bed, he drew her closer, their foreheads touching briefly in a quiet moment before the next wave of intensity. "You are my first and only," he said softly, but with a conviction that made her chest ache. "And after this week, I'm not holding back anymore."

The mattress dipped under their weight as Rajveer eased her down, the low lamplight catching on the rain in her hair, turning each droplet into gold. She lay back against the pillows, her eyes never leaving his, the faint rise and fall of her chest betraying how fast her breath still came.

He braced one hand beside her head, the other trailing from her temple down to the curve of her waist, moving with a patience that was more consuming than haste could ever be.

The rain outside softened to a steadier rhythm, no longer battering the windows but singing in a constant hum - a sound that wrapped around them like a secret.

Rajveer leaned down, his voice a low thread against the shell of her ear.
"Every paper you write, every theory you master - the world will think it's for the university. But you'll know... every word, every thought, belongs to me first."

She exhaled slowly, eyes fluttering shut, letting herself sink into the weight of him, the warmth of his palm against her side.

There were no more words for a while - only the quiet sound of rain, the faint rustle of fabric, and the slow, deliberate way he drew her closer until the line between them vanished.

Time blurred into something soft and molten. The storm outside went on and on, but its edges dulled, the night stretching long and unhurried around them.

When sleep finally came, it was tangled - limbs warm under the weight of the blanket, the faint scent of rain still clinging to their hair and skin.

Morning

Ishki woke to the muted light of a grey dawn. The rain had stopped, leaving the air heavy and clean, the city outside just beginning to stir.

Rajveer was still beside her, one arm draped around her waist, his breathing slow and even. She stayed still, not wanting to wake him yet, just watching the softened lines of his face - so far from the stern professor the world saw.

When his eyes finally opened, they went straight to hers, the corner of his mouth lifting. "Good morning, Mrs. Singhania," he murmured, his voice still gravelled from sleep.

Her cheeks warmed at the sound, and for a brief moment, it was tempting to stay like this - to let the day go on without them.

But reality had sharp edges.

By the time they left their home, they were once again Professor Rajveer Singhania and Ishki, his star student. At BHU's gates, he walked ahead by a few paces, his expression composed, unreadable. She followed with Misha at her side, the two of them chatting softly as if nothing in the world had shifted.

Only once - when she handed in her notes before class - did his fingers brush hers for the barest second, the look in his eyes holding every unspoken word from the night before.

And then it was gone, hidden beneath the weight of the day's lectures, the shuffle of papers, and the quiet knowledge that when the sun went down, she would be his again.

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😍😘 aaj keliye bs itna hi..... To be continued tomorrow..... Hope you like it...... Pardon my mistake..... Till then keep loving and supporting me and my stories......😘😍

🤗😇Thanx for reading😇🤗