They sat there, tangled together, both breathing hard.
"We just had sex in a car," she said eventually.
"We did."
"The driver definitely knows."
"I definitely don't care." He kissed her forehead. "But we're not done."
"We're not?"
"Not even close." His eyes were dark with promise. "Tonight, I'm going to worship every inch of your body. I'm going to make you come so many times you forget your own name. I'm going to fuck you in every room of our wing until the only word you remember is mine."
She shivered with anticipation.
"Yours," she whispered.
"Damn right."
Master Bedroom - Midnight to Dawn
Samarth made good on his promise.
He carried Nimisha to their bedroom and proceeded to take her apart, piece by piece, pleasure by pleasure.
Against the wall first—rough and fast, her legs wrapped around his waist, his hands gripping her ass as he pounded into her.
Then in bed—slower, more thorough, his mouth tasting every inch of her skin.
On the floor—because they didn't make it to the bed in time, desperate and hungry and unable to wait.
He learned her body like he was memorizing it. Every sensitive spot. Every place that made her gasp. Every touch that made her come undone.
"You're so responsive," he murmured against her breast. "So perfect for me."
"Samarth—"
"Say my name. I love hearing it from your lips."
"Samarth, please—"
"Please what, baby? Tell me what you need."
"You. Just you."
He entered her again—had to be the fifth or sixth time, she'd lost count—and it was different this time.
Slower. Deeper. His eyes locked on hers, refusing to let her look away.
"You're mine," he said, each word punctuated with a thrust. "Say it."
"I'm yours."
"Again."
"I'm yours, Samarth. Only yours."
"Always?"
