‘I want to be inside you,’ I tell her.
She wipes her mouth and with a smile says, ‘That’s a surprise.’
‘I will wipe that smile right off your face,’ I point out.
‘I’m counting on that,’ she says.
She grabs me and pulls me closer. I grab her thigh and hike her leg up, rubbing against her.Fuck, she moans as I guide myself inside. Her warm wetness surrounds me. My brain explodes. I thrust and our breaths become ragged.
‘Daksh—’
Her moan is rudely interrupted.
We hear a loud bang. And then one more. The banging of the door is now loud and is echoing in the bathroom.
‘Fuck,’ I say.
I step away from her.
‘WHO IS THERE?’ a loud voice booms from the outside.
I run, grab hold of Aanchal’s clothes and throw them to her. ‘That stall,’ I instruct.
‘OPEN THE DOOR!’
24.
Aanchal Madan
We are in the office of the managing director of the Marriott, BKC.
‘I thought it would be bigger,’ I tell Daksh.
Daksh frowns. ‘I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.’
‘Not you,’ I correct myself. ‘This office. I thought a managing director’s office would be bigger. You’re . . . just the right size.’
‘Thank god for natural selection, then,’ he says.
‘Should we be more nervous about the police coming?’ I ask him because I feel none of the nervousness.
My mind is still in that washroom, still wondering what could have happened had that stupid front desk manager not banged at the door. My body is burning with what we left halfway. If we weren’t waiting for the police to decide what to do with us, I would ask Daksh to throw me to the ground and take me right here.
Daksh shrugs. ‘Why should I be nervous? I’m going to tell them the truth. That you’re a slut who seduced me.’
At this moment, anything Daksh says makes my body react in ways I didn’t think was possible.
‘I like being a slut to you,’ I answer.
And I can see the effect of my words on him. He wants to step away from his chair and take me again. Finish what we started.
‘You should treat me like one,’ I egg him on. I point to the table in front of us. ‘You should push me against this table and ram into me. You should pull my hair—’
‘Stop it, Aanchal.’
‘Would you not want to grab my breasts as I part my legs and invite you even deeper?’
‘Please, stop,’ he says, his breath ragged.
