I stared at him, shocked, kneeling motionless before him. His weary green eyes showed hunger. The hold of his hand around my waist felt too heavy to resist as he drew me even closer, pulling me into him.
My knees felt weak; I couldn’t figure out how to adjust. When he lifted me slightly and made me sit on his lap, my legs settled on either side of him.
My breathing quickened, and lines of confusion creased my forehead. It felt as if I were on fire. Every hair on my body stood up as if to see who had pulled them out of the grave.
“Oh, Kunwar Agastya,” my breath hitched, but he pulled me even closer, making my eyes widen with shock.
I felt his muscular, hard thighs under me, not letting me settle. My knees got stuck in my skirt, unable to part any further.
His gaze lowered to my legs, and his hand slipped to my calf. Slowly, his hand crawled upwards, drawing the hem of my skirt to my thighs.
The air brushed against my bare skin, making me feel extremely timid.
Words hung in my throat, but a question lingered on my lips.“What are you doing?”
To my defeat, it came out as a plea—a slow and inviting plea.
And the moment he pulled me even closer, I went breathless, feeling him hard under me. I flinched at the unexpected touch, but the warmth was so captivating, I couldn’t help but give in slowly.
My gaze dropped to his chest, pressed hard against mine.
I was small for him.
Goosebumps appeared on my skin, making my nipples poke over his chest when he leaned closer to my neck and whispered slowly,“I’m yours, Sumanika.”
His words sent a shiver down my spine, melting me more into him.
From his mouth, my full name felt like he knew me better than anyone else. The heat in my core collided with the heat of his hardness, soaking the fabric between us.
He was hard, rock hard, tight, thick, and dangerous—all in all.
My lashes felt too heavy to blink. I let them rest, feeling his lips brush against my ear.
“You shouldn’t do it,” a whisper escaped my lips.
“You can pretend that I’m not doing it,” he muttered in my ear, making me feel the heat of his breath travelling inside, tickling my skin and wetting my core.
My palms rested against his biceps, confused about whether to hold him. My uneven breaths became audible as I sensed his hand slowly slipping to my lower back.
He looked into my eyes and gently drew me closer, making my body curve into his, and I felt a new sensation flow through me as his length moved softly over my skin.
To my surprise, it felt good. My lips curled inward against my teeth to keep from moaning.
“Does it feel good?” he asked in a whisper, and I nodded slightly. I hid my pleased expression, lowering my head.
He pulled me against him once more, and this time it felt even more overwhelming. A soft moan escaped my lips. It was impossible not to anticipate.
“I own this one.” His words made me feel even weaker, and the next glide had me submitting to him like never before.
My hold tightened on his biceps, and when he didn’t push me again against him, my hips pushed themselves, earning a sensation from him.
His breaths became audible, and the stiffness in his body clarified that I was drawing him to the edge.
My mind had grown too numb to do anything except move my hips against him.
His hand felt unnecessary. The wetness at my core soaked the fabric. The heat was apparent. Surprisingly, an urge built within me, making me eager to get rid of it. I felt restless.
My dupatta slipped off my shoulder, but it was the least of my concerns.
