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Chapter 22

19. SCAR

HIS LITTLE PRINCE (# BOOK 2)

VYOM RAJPUT'S POV

It's been a month since that awkward encounter in the study, and things between Vikram and me have been... weird, to say the least. It's like we're stuck in this limbo, where we're not quite sure how to interact with each other.

Vikram flirts with me from time to time, making these subtle, suggestive comments that leave me feeling all fluttery inside. But whenever I try to flirt back, he becomes cold and awkward, quickly excusing himself to his study.

It's like he's playing this game of cat and mouse with me, where he's constantly pushing and pulling me. I'm not sure what his endgame is, but it's definitely keeping me on my toes.

Meanwhile, Rithvik is still my constant companion in the office. He's always there to protect me from... well, I'm not quite sure what, but I appreciate the sentiment nonetheless.

Vedika, on the other hand, is still bragging about her new boyfriend. She's always going on and on about how they're going to have three babies together, along with two dogs and three cats. I'm happy for her, I guess, but sometimes I just want to roll my eyes and tell her to calm down.

Prithvi is still his usual, cold-as-ice self, but sometimes I catch glimpses of his charming smile. It's like he's hiding this whole other person beneath his tough exterior, and it's tantalizing to think about what might happen if he ever let his guard down.

And then, of course, there's Vikram. Who has, might I add, started to look ridiculously hot lately. I'm not sure what's changed, but suddenly he's got this whole brooding, intense thing going on, and I am here. for. it.

I try to brush off the feeling, telling myself that I'm just being silly, that Vikram is still the same person he's always been. But deep down, I know that's not true. Something has shifted between us, and I'm not sure what's going to happen next.

I make my way to Vikram's room, knocking softly on the door. "Vikram, dinner's ready," I call out, trying to keep my voice light.

There's no response, so I push open the door and step inside. The room is dimly lit, the only sound the soft hum of the air conditioner.

My eyes adjust to the light, and I see Vikram sitting on the bed, his back against the headboard. He's shirtless, wearing only a pair of grey sweatpants that hang low on his hips.

My gaze is drawn to his chest, broad and tanned, with abs that look like they've been chiseled out of marble. But what really catches my attention is the huge scar that runs across his chest, just above his left nipple.

I feel a pang of curiosity, and my eyes are drawn back to the scar. "Vikram, what happened there?" I ask, pointing to the scar.

Vikram looks up at me, his eyes narrowing slightly. For a moment, I think he's not going to answer me. But then, he pats the bed beside him.

"Come here," he says, his voice low and husky.

I hesitate for a moment, unsure of what to do. But then, I walk over to the bed and sit down beside him.

Vikram reaches out and takes my hand, pulling me closer. I feel a jolt of electricity as he wraps his arms around me, pulling me onto his lap.

I'm sitting on his lap, my legs straddling his thighs. I can feel the heat of his body, the hardness of his muscles beneath me.

Vikram's eyes are looking into mine, his gaze intense. "I got the scar in a fight," he says, his voice low. "A long time ago."

I nod, my eyes locked on his. I can feel the tension between us, the electricity in the air.

Vikram's hands are on my hips, his fingers digging into my skin. I can feel his heart beating beneath me, his chest rising and falling with each breath.

I'm trapped in his gaze, unable to look away. I feel like I'm drowning in his eyes, like I'm being pulled under by the intensity of his stare.

I ask Vikram, my curiosity getting the better of me. "What fight?"

Vikram's expression turns bitter, his eyes clouding over. "A fight for the throne," he says, his voice laced with venom. "One that I lost."

He spits out the words, like they're poison in his mouth. I can feel the anger and resentment radiating off him, like a palpable force.

"It's a sign that I'm a bloody loser," he continues, his self-loathing evident. "I have eight siblings, and Rajveer, me, and Ruhan are the oldest triplet. We're the heirs to the throne."

He pauses, his chest heaving with emotion. "Me and Rajveer always fought for the throne. Ruhan was never interested in this shit. And to be honest, I'm not really interested in the throne either."

He looks at me, his eyes glinting with amusement. "I just loved to piss my older brother off. He's such a bad sport, an asshole, and a bloody narcissist who thinks everyone in this world should bow down to him."

Vikram's voice drips with disdain, his contempt for his brother evident. "He defeated me in the fight, of course. He's always been the favored one, the golden child. And he knows it, too. That's why he's such a nonchalant prick."

Vikram's words are laced with bitterness, his resentment towards his brother simmering just below the surface. I can feel the tension in his body, the anger and frustration that he's barely keeping in check.

I look at him, my eyes locked on his. I can see the pain and vulnerability behind his eyes, the deep-seated wounds that his brother's actions have inflicted on him.

And in that moment, I feel a surge of compassion and understanding for Vikram. I realize that there's more to him than meets the eye, that he's a complex and multifaceted person with his own set of strengths and weaknesses.

I lean in, my lips meeting Vikram's in a passionate kiss. I can feel the tension in his body, the uncertainty in his eyes. But as our lips touch, I can sense his resistance melting away.

I pull back, looking into his eyes. "You are not a loser," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "At least, not for me. You will never be."

Vikram's eyes search mine, looking for answers. "Have you fallen in love with me?" he asks, his voice laced with curiosity.

I ignore his question, not ready to confront my own feelings. Instead, I ask, "Does it still hurt?"

Vikram's eyes narrow, his gaze piercing. "Why are you avoiding my question?" he asks, his voice tinged with frustration.

I lean in, my lips brushing against the scar on his chest. "The food is ready," I say, trying to distract him. "Come soon."

Vikram's eyes flash with desire, and he pulls me back into his lap. "One more kiss, please" he says, his voice low and husky.

I lean in, our lips meeting in a gentle kiss. But as we pull back, Vikram's eyes lock onto mine, his gaze intense.

"If you want to back off, it's your last chance," he says, his voice low and serious. "Because after this, many things will change between us."

I smile, feeling a sense of excitement and anticipation. I lean in, pulling Vikram into a kiss. Our lips meet, and the world around us melts away.

We lose ourselves in the kiss, our bodies entwining as we deepen the kiss. It's like the whole world has come to a standstill, and all that's left is the two of us, lost in our own little bubble of desire and passion.

Things are indeed going to change and we all are up for it.

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Sorry for the late update, I was being lazyyy.

Enjoyyy

Lots of love.

~ to be continued

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