Arwan leans against the table, he subconsciously moves closer to Visha, his body drawn to hers like a magnet. His eyes roam over her face, taking in every little detail of her expression - the way her eyes narrow, the way her lips purse slightly in annoyance. Arwan is so close he can feel the heat radiating from her body, and it takes every ounce of his iron-clad self-control to not reach out and touch her.

"I want you to marry me."

Arwan smirks slightly, enjoying the fact that he's managed to rile her up. He leans in even closer, his body now mere inches away from hers. The air between them is charged with tension - one wrong move and things could explode.

Visha's eyes widen at his words, but her expression quickly hardens. "What?! You can't be serious."

Arwan lets out a humorless chuckle. He knew she'd react like this, but he'll be damned if he lets her brush him off that easily. "I'm completely serious," he says, his voice low and steady.

Visha scoffs, crossing her arms. "You are insane.I am not marrying you."

Arwan's smirk transforms into a sly grin. He had been anticipating her resistance, but he's just getting started.

"And why not?" he asks, leaning even closer. "Afraid you might actually start to like me?"

"In you dreams Arwan" Visha said rolling her eyes.

Arwan's expression darkens at her response, his patience wearing thin. He steps even closer, his body now pressed up against hers. He can feel the heat of her body and smell the faint scent of her perfume. It's maddening.

"I'm not asking, Visha," he says between clenched teeth. "You're going to marry me."

Arwan reaches out, grabbing her arms and pulling her against him. He can feel her struggling to break free, but his grip is firm, and he's not letting go until he gets what he wants.

"You don't get to say no to me," he growls, his eyes burning into hers. "You're mine, whether you like it or not."

Visha bristles at his tone, her eyes narrowing into slits. Her hands clench into fists at her sides, and for a moment, he thinks she might take a swing at him.

"And what makes you think I'd agree to that?" she snaps back, her voice dripping with contempt.

She glares up at him, her eyes spitting fire. "You can't make me do anything, Arwan."

Arwan lets out an exasperated sigh, his hands coming up to grip her upper arms. "You're damn right I can."

She tries to pull away, but his grip tightens, holding her in place. "Let go of me." she snaps, but there's a hint of vulnerability beneath her angry exterior.

Arwan grabs her upper arm, his grip firm but not painful. He pulls her closer, their faces now mere inches apart. He can see every little detail of her face - the small scar on her forehead, the brown elements in her hazel eyes were more dominant, complimenting the faint freckles that dotted het nose, the way her lips part slightly in surprise.

"You don't have a choice in this, Visha," he growls, his voice laced with authority. "You're mine, and I'm not letting you go that easily."

Arwan's eyes flick down to her lips, his gaze is hungry. He releases her arm, his hand moving to cup her jaw instead. Slowly, carefully, he leans in, closing the small gap between them.

Their lips meet, and the world around them seems to disappear. Visha is frozen in place, torn between the fire of anger and the heat of desire that's suddenly ignited within her.

Arwan kisses her fiercely, his hand gripping the back of her neck, pulling her closer.

Arwan's deepens the kiss and slide his tongue over her bottom lip, seeking entrance. He can't get enough of her, the taste of her driving him wild. Visha gasps as he slides his tongue against hers, the electric sensation sending shivers down her spine.

His hand moves to her waist, pulling her flush against him. He can feel the curves of her body, the heat of her skin through their clothes.

With a growl, he again slams his lips on her lips this time harder than before. His hand tangles in her hair, holding her in place as he kisses her with a hunger that can't be satisfied. He feels her body shiver beneath his touch, a small sound of pleasure escaping her throat.