Chapter 25 Kiara #2
My hands wandered lower, gliding over the defined ridges of his abs, and a soft gasp escaped my lips. He was absolute perfection, every inch of him carved as if by some divine hand. His jaw was clenched tight, his eyes half-lidded as he watched me, dark and smoldering.
His fingers gripped my waist firmly, digging into my skin as though holding onto the last shred of his control. But I didn’t want him to hold back—not tonight, not now.
My fingertips traced the lines leading to his V, lingering just at the edge. His entire body tensed, a guttural sound rumbling from deep within his chest, somewhere between a growl and a plea. “Kiara…” His tone was a warning, but the way his breath hitched told me he wasn’t going to stop me.
I looked up at him through my lashes. I let my hand dip lower, brushing against the waistband. His reaction was immediate. His head tilted back slightly, a groan slipping from his lips as his grip on my waist tightened, his thumbs pressing into my skin.
My hand ventured further, teasing the edges of control, and his body responded like a live wire—tense, shuddering, his breathing growing uneven. His chest rose and fell in rhythm with his sharp breaths, and the heat radiating off him was enough to drown me.
“Kiara,” he rasped, his voice barely holding steady, filled with a raw, desperate hunger. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” His voice was a husky growl, and the tension in his frame vibrated with barely contained desire.
I leaned closer, my breath mingling with his as I whispered against his lips, “I think I do.”
His teeth caught the straps of my gown, tugging them down with deliberate slowness until the fabric pooled at my waist. His fingers expertly unzipped the side, and the gown slipped to the floor, leaving me standing in nothing but a black lacy bra and matching underwear in front of an utterly unrestrained, shirtless Manav Oberoi.
His eyes roamed over me, dark and blazing with intensity, lingering on every inch of exposed skin.
When his teeth scraped over my nipple through the delicate fabric of my bra, I gasped, my knees trembling.
His fingers slid down to my inner thighs, teasing me in ways that left me breathless, every touch igniting sparks I couldn’t contain.
As his thumb grazed the edge of my underwear, he murmured, his voice low and rough. “How wet am I going to find you, cheeseball?”
My body trembled, every nerve alive with anticipation. “If you keep this up,” I managed, my voice shaky, “I think I might come just from your touch.”
A wicked smirk curved his lips. “I haven’t even started touching you, baby.
” His dark chuckle sent a thrill through me.
He teased, as his fingers hooked the edge of my underwear, pulling it aside.
When his fingers finally slid against my slick heat, my world tilted.
My body arched into his touch, and my mind was lost in a haze of desire so intense I could barely think.
Manav’s mouth tugged the fabric down, exposing my aching nipples. His tongue flicked over one, teasing, before his lips closed around it, sucking with a precision that sent waves of pleasure coursing through me. I couldn’t take it anymore. My hands shot up, tangling in his hair, pulling him closer.
He growled low in his throat, his hands gripping my hips as he devoured me, his lips and tongue driving me to the edge of sanity.
He knew exactly what he was doing—how to touch me, tease me, claim me.
It was as if he’d mapped my body long before this moment, knowing every secret place that would unravel me.
And as his eyes lifted to meet mine, blazing with possession and need, I realized he wasn’t just making me lose control. He was taking control, and I never wanted him to stop.
His fingers slid inside me, and I gasped as he smiled. My eyes fluttered shut, but his hands stopped. “Look at me, baby,” he said softly.
I tried, but the waves of pleasure were too overwhelming to handle. His thumb paused midway. “Open your eyes…”
And I did. I looked into his eyes—patient, teasing, honest, raw, and deep.
He went to his knees, and oh, holy mother of sweet roses—his tongue. His perfect and hot tongue touched my most sensitive places, and I practically moaned louder than the highest-paid porn star. He smiled, taking his time, continuously making me soar higher and higher.
His hands kept me steady while his tongue worked with precision, stroking me with an expertise that made me feel like he was born for this moment alone.
I was on the edge of losing my sanity when his strokes became more fluent, and I came hard—harder than I ever could have imagined or written about in my extremely romantic novels.
I shuddered under his touch, and he kept me grounded while cleaning me up, as if I were the most sought-after ice cream in the world.
I was still panting when he lifted me, and before I fully realized what was happening, I was on his bed with him hovering above me. His pants pooled on the floor, and one of his hands was gently touching my neck while the other held me firmly by my hip.
“Tell me what you want, cheeseball,” he growled against my lips. “Say it.”
“I want you.” My breaths were uneven as the world blurred around me. “Inside me.”
He removed his briefs in one swift motion, and my eyes widened at the sight. He was hard—hot and huge in a way that made me ache. He smiled, leaning closer and whispering, “You want this…?”
“Ye…yeah…” I managed to reply, breathless.
“Show me how much…”
I met his mischievous eyes, gently flipping us over so that I was on top. His length pressed against my bare insides, and the heat between us was enough to make me lose my mind.
Manav’s eyes shut momentarily as I gripped his length, my tongue gliding over him with deliberate, teasing strokes. “Fuck…” He groaned, his voice rough and filled with unrestrained desire.
I continued my playful exploration, savoring the way his body responded to every touch, every movement. It didn’t take long for him to lose control. In one swift motion, he flipped us back, pressing me beneath him as I gasped at the sudden change.
“It’s time for me to take over,” he murmured, his voice thick with hunger.
His mouth crashed onto mine, the kiss was demanding and consuming. Without breaking eye contact, he pulled a drawer and reached for a condom, rolling it on with a smooth efficiency that sent another shiver of anticipation through me.
It took him six…exactly six strokes to reach his climax, and he collapsed above me, panting, his breath warm against my neck. “You are so beautiful and perfect… There was no chance I could last longer than that.”
Whatever magic Manav’s body held, it had transported me to another world. But I should’ve known better than to think it was over. Just ten minutes later, he was ready again, and this time, he claimed what was his and lost control all over again.
The night was a masterpiece of passion, and so were the three consecutive orgasms that followed.
Manav, being the ever-thoughtful chaos in my life, made sure I hydrated with the juices stocked in his fridge and fed me a late-night cheese toast that was absolutely necessary for survival.
Walking? Forget about it. My legs were jelly, and I was certain I’d need years of recovery before this dangerously gorgeous man touched me again—or even looked at me.
But, of course, I was wrong. Somewhere between dawn and sunrise, I attacked him, unable to resist his proximity. And true to form, he delivered me the consequences of my actions with a fervor that left me breathless all over again.
I closed my eyes, a small smile playing on my lips. I was living a dream so beautiful that I wasn’t sure I wanted to wake up. But what I needed, besides Manav’s arms around me, was a gallon of coffee—or maybe something otherworldly to pull me back to reality.
Because this life, this utterly intoxicating and perfect life, felt like it couldn’t possibly be real.
And it wasn’t real.
The pretense was as delicate as glass, a fragile illusion that shattered every time my mind reminded me of the truth.
I wasn’t staying. I couldn’t. In just a few days, I’d be leaving for France, chasing my dreams and building my first publishing house there.
Everything is almost set, just waiting for me to launch the first step of execution.
I turned to look at Manav, his face relaxed in sleep, his hand draped over my waist like it belonged there. He looked so peaceful, so Manav. For a moment, I allowed myself to pretend—to imagine this life, this closeness, this impossible future.
For the first time in my life, I wasn’t going to let my heart dictate the future. Because this time, I wasn’t trying to find love. I was trying to find myself.
____________
I must have drifted off again sometime in the early morning. I vaguely remember Manav kissing my forehead and whispering, “Good morning, cheeseball… I’ll be back soon. Take rest.”
When I finally opened my eyes, rubbing the sleep away, my phone was buzzing on the nightstand. It was Myra calling, but I ignored it, my attention caught by a handwritten note on the pillow next to mine:
Had an early morning meeting, baby. I will be occupied in the basement. Will be back before lunch. Eat breakfast—it’s in the oven.
I couldn’t help but smile as I clutched the note like it was some kind of love letter. Still lying in bed, I picked up my phone and snapped a picture of my sleepy face, wearing his oversized shirt, and sent it to him.
Almost instantly, his reply came:
Manav: It’s going to be very difficult for me to explain to the board why I’m having a hard-on while discussing the benefits of organic pesticides.
I burst out laughing, shaking my head. God, I am so in love with this man.
Me: I’m feeling lazy today. Any way I could manage a shower without lifting a finger?
Manav: Don’t say things like that. I’m this close to leaving in the middle of a signing deal and wrapping it up in the next five minutes.
Me: Just stating facts. Another fact—last night was unforgettable.
Manav: Cheeseball…
Me: Better than my dreams.
Manav: You had dreams?
Me: Very, very sweaty dreams.
Manav: Was I losing my sanity there, too?
Me: Completely.
Manav: If you even step into the shower, I’ll be there before you touch the water.
I couldn’t stop smiling; my heart did all sorts of flips. Just as I reached to put the phone down, it buzzed again. This time, it was Myra.
“Hey, sweetheart…” Myra’s voice was cheerful and teasing.
“Hey… why are you calling me this early?” I yawned, still half-asleep.
“It’s almost noon, sweetie. So, tell me—how many orgasms did you have last night?”
I couldn’t help but smile. “Three… plus one… plus one.”
“Oh, holy God of All Divinity! Do. Not. Lose. This. Man. Girl, I swear if you mess this up, I’ll kill you, and no one will find your body for centuries.”
“He’s not mine to keep, Myra. We’re just… pretending, remember?”
“Were you pretending the orgasm, too?”
“No… those were very real.”
“Good,” She exclaimed. “What did Mr. Billionaire Chef slash Greek God do now? And please, spare no details.”
I groaned, tossing myself back onto the bed. “Myra, I am not discussing my personal life with you.”
“Oh, you are,” she said firmly. “Because if you don’t, I’ll assume the worst—like he cooked you a subpar breakfast or forgot to kiss you goodbye.”
“Actually,” I said, holding up the note and staring at it fondly, “he left me breakfast in the oven and wrote me a note.”
There was a pause on the other end. “He what? Oh my God. This man is out here ruining the standard for men everywhere. Are you sure he’s real and not, like, an AI simulation sent to make you believe in love again?”
I laughed. “He’s very real.”
“You’re in love, aren’t you?”
I sighed. “Myra… I’m leaving for France in a few days.”
“I know. But I also know you love him. So, figure something out before I break your neck.”
“You’re insane. Manav’s not the type of guy who wants relationships.”
“Do. Not. Screw. This. Up. Kiara Randhawa. I’m serious.”
I opened my mouth to reply, but the door suddenly swung open.
In three long strides, Manav was at the bed.
He was wearing a dark blue perfectly tailored suit.
Without a word, he scooped me up in his arms and carried me toward the bathroom.
My phone tumbled onto the mattress as I let out a startled squeal.
“Manav!” I protested, my voice echoing off the tiled walls.
He didn’t answer, just smirked down at me as he turned on the shower.
I gasped as the warm water hit my skin, jolting me fully awake. He placed me under the spray like I was fragile. His hands never left my waist.
“Kiara,” he murmured, lips brushing mine, “you drive me insane.”
I could barely breathe. His fingers found all the right places, coaxing sounds from me that echoed off the tiles. I clung to his shoulders, barely upright.
“First time I’ve ever left a billion-dollar meeting halfway,” he murmured.
“Oh, and now what happens to the homeless zombies?”
He chuckled low. “You better hope Kartik doesn’t barge in. I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“You,” I panted, “are going to be the death of me.”
“No,” he whispered against my jaw, “I’m going to be your life.”
“I’m leaving in a few days. After Dadi’s birthday—”
But he didn’t let me finish. His lips crashed onto mine, silencing any thought of leaving.
And then his fingers began their teasing again, pulling another moan from my lips.
My my body reacted before I could think, arching into his touch as I lost all sense of control.
He turned the shower on fully, the water mixing with the heat of our bodies, and just as I thought I couldn’t take any more, he brought me to the edge again.
He groaned against my neck, his hands gripping me tighter as he reached his own release, his entire body tensing before he let out a low, guttural sound that made my head spin.
We stayed there for a moment, pressed together under the spray of water, both of us trying to catch our breaths. His forehead rested against mine, his hands still holding me as if I might disappear if he let go.
“Cheeseball…” he whispered finally, his voice soft but firm. “You’re not getting rid of me.”
And at that moment, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to.