Chapter-50
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(Mature content ahead 18+)
The villa felt too quiet.
Too…domestic.
For the past two days, Abhimanyu had been too well-behaved.
Sure, he kissed me. Sure, he teased me. But never too deeply, never too rough. It was like he was holding back, treating me like I was too delicate to handle him.
And that?
That was frustrating as hell.
I wanted more. I wanted to see the fire in his eyes, the raw intensity I had caught glimpses of before. The kind that promised to devour me whole.
So tonight, I decided to push him.
I can't quite put my finger on why I’m doing this, but there’s an undeniable thrill in teasing him that I can't resist. It's exhilarating and honestly, my favorite thing to do.
I spotted him on the couch as I came downstairs, sitting with one leg stretched out, the other bent, his body completely at ease. One hand rested against the backrest, while the other held his phone to his ear.
He looked ridiculously good.
His white shirt was unbuttoned at the top, revealing the strong lines of his chest. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, showcasing his toned forearms, veins prominent as he tapped his fingers lazily against the couch.
I walked up, leaning against the couch’s armrest but he didn't give me any attention. I remembered he had informed me it's a important call about a international investor which he was going to attend.
I quickly moved towards the kitchen, grabbing a bowl of ice cubes, my smirk widening as I imagined what I was about to do. Abhimanyu was still on his call, his deep voice steady and composed as he discussed business.
"Yes, Mr. Mehra, it will be on next—"
He stopped mid-sentence the moment I pressed an ice cube against the back of his neck. A visible shiver ran down his spine, his entire body tensing under my touch.
He turned his head slightly, his sharp gaze locking onto me as I sauntered around the couch and sat beside him, my knees brushing against his thighs. His jaw was clenched slightly, but I didn’t miss the flicker of something darker in his eyes.
"What are you doing?" he whispered, his voice low and rough, a quiet warning.
I didn't answer. Instead, I took the ice cube, pressing it against the sensitive skin near his throat before trailing my lips alongside it, the contrast of cold and warmth sending shivers through both of us. His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, his breathing uneven.
I pulled away just enough to let my lips hover near his ear, my breath a teasing whisper. "Shh… focus on your call, husband. Don’t let me ruin your important conversation."
Abhimanyu exhaled slowly, his patience visibly thinning. His fingers curled against the couch, his knuckles turning white. But he said nothing.
I smirked. "What’s wrong, Mr. Rathore? Cat got your tongue… or was it me?" I purred, playfully biting his earlobe.
His jaw clenched, his grip tightening on the phone as he struggled to maintain focus.
"Yes, Mr. Mehra, t-the proposal outlines are re—ready—" His voice hitched, breaking off when I dragged the ice cube down the length of his throat, following its cold trail with my lips.
His body whimpered slightly, a tremor running through him as I pressed the melting ice just above his collarbone. My warm breath against his damp skin only made him shudder more.
His voice was thick with restraint as he mouthed, "You're going to regret this." Each word was a quiet promise, laced with warning.
But will I listen? Nah. I let my fingers trace along the sharp line of his jaw, watching the way his lips twitched, fighting a reaction.
"Aww, is my poor Abhi losing control?" I whispered, pressing the ice cube against his chest, watching as his muscles tensed beneath me.
His eyes darkened, the heat in them burning through the last remnants of his patience.
"Mr. Rathore, are you there?" The man's voice crackled through the speaker, but Abhimanyu couldn’t answer. Not when my fingers were sliding lower, the ice now teasing the hard planes of his chest beneath the undone buttons of his shirt.
He bit back a curse, clearing his throat. "I—I’m listening," he managed, his voice hoarse.
I grinned wickedly and leaned in, my lips brushing against his skin. "Are you sure? You sound… distracted, husband," I whispered before pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss against his chest.
Despite his best efforts to maintain control, I could feel him slipping. His body was taut beneath my touch, his breathing heavier, more ragged.
I picked up another ice cube and held it against his nipple.
He flinched, a sharp intake of breath hissing through his teeth. His fingers twitched against the phone, the tension radiating from him in waves.
"Damn you," he muttered, his voice strained, his eyes smoldering with unspoken promises.
I tilted my head, my smirk deepening. "Oh, I think you like it," I purred, dragging the ice lower. "Don’t you?"
He didn’t answer, but his grip on the phone was bone-white, and his jaw locked tightly, betraying the effect I had on him.
I let the ice glide slowly down toward his abs, teasing just above his belt. A deep, guttural groan vibrated through his chest, the sound sending heat curling through my veins.
And then, I bit his neck.
Not hard enough to hurt, but just enough to leave a mark, to make him feel it. I flicked my tongue over the spot, savoring the way his body jerked slightly, his breath hitching.
His patience snapped.
"Let’s reschedule. I have… a distraction I need to handle first."
His voice was rough, filled with something raw and unfiltered.
Before the person could even respond, he ended the call and threw the phone onto the couch, the sound echoing through the room.
The air between us was thick with tension. My heart pounded, excitement bubbling in my chest.
Before I could react, his strong hands gripped my waist, and in a swift motion, he had me pinned against the couch, his body pressing into mine, his warmth sinking into my skin.
His eyes bore into mine, dark and dangerous, his voice a low, possessive growl. "You're enjoying being a brat, aren’t you?"
This was precisely what I aimed for—pushing him to see just how far he could go. Yet, as I witnessed him to lose control, a wave of unease hit me.
The confidence I had felt slipped away, leaving me second-guessing the impact of my actions.
He lowered his head and captured my mouth in a fierce, possessive kiss.
His mouth was hot, demanding, and utterly consuming as it moved against mine, leaving me breathless beneath the intensity of his kiss.
My fingers curled into his shirt, grasping the fabric tightly, as though it were the only thing anchoring me to reality. Heat coiled low in my stomach, an undeniable need unfurling between us as his lips claimed mine with raw possession.
I had wanted this. I had teased him, pushed him to the edge, but nothing—nothing—could have prepared me for the fire I had unleashed.
Abhimanyu tore his mouth from mine, his breaths heavy and mingling with my own.
His dark, hooded gaze roved over my face, intense and searching. His fingers, slow and deliberate, found the hem of my shirt, unbuttoning it one by one.
Each pop of a button sent anticipation thrumming through my veins, my skin growing warmer under his unwavering attention.
The fabric slipped from my shoulders, pooling around my elbows as a shiver coursed down my spine.
Whether from the cool air or the way his gaze darkened at the sight of me, I wasn’t sure. He leaned in, his lips ghosting over my collarbone, teasing, torturing.
The mere whisper of his breath against my skin sent delicious tremors rippling through me.
"You wanted to play, didn’t you?" His voice was a low, rough whisper, laced with dangerous amusement. "Let’s see how much you can handle."
Before I could formulate a response, a sharp gasp tore from my throat as something cold touched my shoulder.
An ice cube.The sensation shot through me, the contrast against my overheated skin almost unbearable.
My back arched instinctively, my body responding to the wickedly cool touch as Abhimanyu smirked against me.
"Oh? Sensitive, are we?" His amusement was evident, but so was his intent.
I bit my lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. But that only seemed to fuel his determination.
The ice trailed lower, slipping between my breasts, leaving a cool, damp path in its wake. Before the chill could settle, his lips followed, warm and languid, erasing the icy sensation with a slow flick of his tongue.
I shuddered, my fingers clutching his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin. "Abhi…"
"Hmm" He hummed in response, the sound vibrating against me.
Another ice cube met my stomach, circling just above my navel before he dipped his head and licked away the melting droplets.
My fingers tangled in his hair, tugging slightly, but he only chuckled, the vibration of his laughter sending sparks of pleasure through me.
"You seem quiet now, jaan. Whatever happened to all that teasing?" His voice was thick with desire, his hands gripping my hips as he dragged the melting ice lower, stopping just above the waistband of my shorts.
I squirmed beneath him, a breathless whimper slipping past my lips. "I-I wasn’t expecting—"
"Oh, I know exactly what you were expecting baby" His grip tightened, his voice a sinful caress. "But I don’t play fair."
Another gasp escaped me as he pressed the ice directly against my inner thigh, his lips following the trail with excruciating slowness.
My body trembled under the assault of sensations—fire and ice, pleasure and torment. My resolve crumbled, a soft moan spilling from my lips before I could stop it.
"A-Abhi, please—"
His mouth moved up, just enough to whisper against my skin, "Please what?"
I groaned, frustration and desire twisting inside me, coiling tighter with each passing second. He was going to drive me insane.
The ice slipped lower, grazing the edge of my shorts before he flicked his tongue against it . My head fell back against the couch, a strangled sound escaping me as he chuckled darkly.
"Aww... is my poor baby losing control?" He mimicked my words, his lips brushing against my trembling skin.
His teasing was slow, torturous, every stroke of the ice against my heated skin making my body more sensitive.
He trailed it up again, pressing it just beneath my ribs, letting it melt in place. The cold water trickled down, and he followed its path with his tongue, lapping up each drop with infuriating patience.
I was breathless, my hands gripping his arms tightly. "You’re evil," I whispered, my body arching instinctively into his touch.
He chuckled, his breath hot against my damp skin. "But you love my kind of evil....don't you ?" His voice was smooth, full of dark promises that sent a shiver straight through me.
His fingers brushed the waistband of my shorts before he tugged them down, the fabric slipping away with agonizing slowness.
He took another small ice cube, this time holding it between his lips, his smirk deepening as he met my gaze. My breath hitched, my body tensing in anticipation.
Then, with deliberate precision, he pressed his mouth to my core, the ice sending a sharp, electrifying contrast of sensations through me.
A gasp tore from my throat, my hips jerking instinctively at the cold burn that was instantly soothed by the warmth of his lips. The dual sensation—freezing and molten—coiled tightly within me, making me arch beneath him, completely at his mercy.
"Ah—" I gasped, my fingers tangling in his hair, my back bowing off the couch.
He pulled back slightly, his lips wet from the melting ice. His gaze met mine, intense and unwavering.
"What’s wrong, sweetheart? Lost in your own game?" His voice was a sinful whisper, laced with dark amusement.
The ice traced a slow, deliberate path along the sensitive folds of my core, the contrast of cold against my heated skin making me shudder. A shaky breath escaped me, and his smirk only deepened.
"Ba–bad man…" I whispered, my voice trembling as I clung to him.
He chuckled, his voice low and rich, sending vibrations against my skin. His smirk deepened, and his eyes sparkled with mischief. Instead of teasing me, he leaned in close and simply kissed me—deeply and thoroughly, as if he had all the time in the world to ruin me in the sweetest way possible.
My breath was still ragged, and my body trembled with anticipation as he pulled away. He effortlessly lifted me, carrying me upstairs.
The moment we entered the bedroom, he set me down gently on the couch. My heart pounded as I watched him straighten up, his dark eyes never leaving mine, filled with something raw, something carnal.
Then, with deliberate speed, he stripped.
First, his shirt—each button slipping free under his deft fingers before he let the fabric slide off his shoulders.
The golden glow of the bedside lamp illuminated the hard planes of his chest, the ridges of his abs, the taut lines of muscle that flexed as he moved.
His belt came next, the clink of metal sending a shiver up my spine. Then his pants, pushed down in one fluid motion, pooling at his feet before he kicked them aside.
My breath hitched. He was utterly breathtaking.
Still holding my gaze, he reached for the bedside table, pulling out a silver packet. He tore it open, rolling the condom on with ease, and the sight of him—so ready, so unbearably hard—made my thighs squeeze together in desperate anticipation.
Then, he was in front of me again, his strong hands gripping my waist, his touch searing against my heated skin. He guided me onto his lap, my knees bracketing his hips, his arms circling around me, holding me so close that I could feel every beat of his racing heart.
His lips brushed against mine, teasing and tempting. "I can't get enough of you," he murmured, his voice thick with desire.
Before I could answer, I felt the first press of him against me. A sharp gasp escaped me as he slowly pushed inside, inch by inch, stretching me, filling me completely.
My forehead dropped against his, my breath shuddering as I tried to adjust to the intoxicating fullness of him.
Abhimanyu groaned, his fingers digging into my hips as he held me still, letting me feel every pulse of him inside me.
His control was fraying, I could tell by the way his muscles tensed beneath my hands, by the way his breath turned uneven.
And then, his voice—deep, commanding, utterly wrecked—sent a tremor through me.
"Ride me."
A rush of heat shot through me at his words. My hands braced against his chest, feeling the rapid rise and fall of his breath, the thudding of his heart beneath my palms.
Slowly, I lifted myself, only to sink back down, a moan slipping from my lips as pleasure unfurled through me.
His jaw clenched, his grip tightening. "Just like that, baby" he rasped, his lips skimming over my jaw, down my throat.
I found a rhythm, rolling my hips against him, feeling every inch of him stretching me, filling me to the brink.
His hands guided me, steady and firm, his touch both possessive and reverent.
The sensation was overwhelming—the heat between us, the friction, the way he moved with me, matching my pace.
His mouth was everywhere, trailing over my collarbone, teasing the sensitive skin of my breasts, worshipping every inch of me with slow, languid kisses.
I felt the pleasure coiling tighter, building into something unstoppable. Each movement sent electric sparks through my veins, my body arching, needing more, needing everything.
"Abhi—" I gasped, my fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer.
He groaned, his hands slipping from my hips to my back, pressing me firmly against his chest. His lips crashed against mine, devouring, claiming, as if he wanted to feel my pleasure as much as his own.
And then, he thrust up into me, deep and deliberate, sending a sharp, white-hot burst of pleasure through my body.
I shattered.
A cry tore from my throat as the pleasure exploded, rippling through me in waves so intense that I could barely breathe.
My body clenched around him, pulling him deeper, drowning in the sheer ecstasy of it.
Abhimanyu groaned low in his throat, his grip turning bruising as he buried himself inside me one last time. His breath stuttered, his body tensed beneath me, and then I felt him shudder, his release crashing over him like a tidal wave.
His head fell against my shoulder, his arms locking around me, holding me so tightly I could feel his pulse hammering against my skin. His breath was warm against my neck, uneven, wrecked.
For a long moment, neither of us moved. We just held each other, our bodies still tangled, our hearts racing in sync.
After three hours ~
I was ruined.
Completely, utterly ruined.
Every inch of my body felt like it had been set on fire, burned in the most delicious, overwhelming way possible.
My limbs were weak, my skin still tingling, my breath coming in slow, uneven waves as I lay helplessly on the bed.
Three hours.
In those three hours, we had orgasmed four times and now, my body was paying the price.
The soreness between my thighs was an unshakable reminder of just how thoroughly he had taken me apart.
A deep, satisfied hum came from beside me, a sound so deep and rich that it sent a small shiver down my already sensitive body.
Slowly, I turned my head, my heavy, exhausted eyes landing on him.
Abhimanyu lay sprawled beside me, his broad, muscled chest rising and falling in deep, steady breaths.
His dark hair was an absolute mess, tousled and sticking to his slightly damp forehead. His lips slightly swollen.
He looked completely at ease.
Unfairly so
Meanwhile, I could barely move.
I swallowed, my throat dry, my body still buzzing from everything we had done. I tried to shift slightly, only for a soft whimper to escape me as my legs trembled in protest.
He looked towards me and I narrowed my eyes at him, my face heating as I pouted slightly.
His smiled apologetically and before I could turn away, the bed shifted beneath me.
And then—strong, warm arms wrapped around me.
A gasp left my lips as I was gently pulled against his chest, my bare skin pressing against his comforting warmth.
"Abhi…" I breathed, still catching up to his sudden movement.
Instead of any teasing comment, his arms tightened, holding me close, secure, as if he wanted to keep me there forever.
His fingers—so gentle now—found my waist, rubbing slow, soothing circles into my aching skin. His lips pressed against my forehead, lingering there, his warmth seeping into me.
My chest clenched at the tenderness in his touch.
He trailed soft, lazy kisses down to my temple, then to my cheek, his breath warm and steady against my skin. His fingers moved lower, massaging the sore spots on my hips, as if he already knew.
Of course, he knew it was him who orchestrated everything. I have to admit, I was the one who kicked things off and really wanted this too, but you know what? I’m going to put that aside and just soak up all the pampering and enjoy every moment.
His gaze—usually sharp, intense, full of mischief—was gentle now, his dark eyes searching mine for sign of discomfort.
Something inside me squeezed at the sight.
This side of him—the one who worries, cares, and cherishes—always takes my breath away even more than his dominant side. Honestly, I think every part of him leaves me breathless.
I swallowed the lump in my throat, offering him a small, tired smile.
His grip on me tightened, his hold becoming even warmer, more protective. "Did I go too far?" he asked, his tone quiet but heavy with concern.
I immediately shook my head. "No. You were perfect."
Relief flickered across his face for a brief second.
Then, that damn smirk returned.
"So… round five?"
My eyes widened, my cheeks turning a deep shade of red.
"Abhi" I gasped, my hand flying up to smack his chest, though there was no real force behind it.
His deep, rumbling laugh filled the air, rich and full of amusement. "Relax, jaan," he murmured, pressing a lingering kiss to my temple. "I’m kidding."
I sighed, rolling my eyes. "You better be."
His chuckle softened into something else—something gentler.
And then, he just held me.
His fingers drifted up, brushing through my damp, tangled hair, while his other hand continued massaging slow circles into my back.
His breathing was steady, calming, and for the first time in hours, I felt completely, utterly at peace.
Then—he moved.
Before I could react, he scooped me up into his arms.
"Hey" I squealed, my hands instinctively flying around his neck as he lifted me off the bed.
He chuckled, adjusting his grip. "Come on, let’s get you cleaned up."
I sighed, melting into him, my head resting against his strong shoulder.
I could feel his heartbeat beneath my cheek—steady, strong, comforting.
And in that moment, I knew. I was his. Completely.
After few minutes ~
I was curled up on the bed, scrolling through my phone when the bedroom door creaked open.
I glanced up—and immediately, my heart flipped.
Abhimanyu walked in, carrying a steaming mug of hot chocolate in one hand and a tray of dinner in the other.
His eyes immediately found mine, and he smiled.
That smile.
Wordlessly, he set the tray down and turned to me. "Let's eat baby"
I put my phone aside and padded over to him, settling onto the couch.
Without a word, he reached for the plate and started making me a portion. Like always.
This part—I loved this part.
No matter how rough, intense, and utterly consuming he was in bed, He always made sure to care for me afterward with a gentleness that melted me.
His strong hands, once gripping me with dominance, now moved with a tenderness that never failed to unravel me, tracing slow, comforting circles over my skin. He always does this.
He always held me close afterward, pressing soft, lingering kisses to my forehead, letting his warmth wrap around me like a shield.
His deep voice, once filled with raw hunger, would now murmur those same gentle reassurances—"Feeling better?
Are you sore?Still paining?"—his concern woven into every syllable.
And every time, it's the same thing—no matter how fiercely he took me, he would always cherish me even more.
He carefully scooped a generous portion of the steaming, savory gravy glistened in the light.
After taking a moment to dip his fork into it, he offered me a bite, the tantalizing aroma wafting into the air.
As I savored the taste, a burst of spices danced across my palate, and he leaned in with a curious expression, asking, "Too spicy?"
I shook my head and gave him a thumbs-up, and he nodded.
Then—without hesitation—he picked up another bite, blew on it gently, and brought it to my lips.
My heart melted.
I let him feed me, bite after bite, until my stomach was warm and full.
Once we finished, I crawled back into bed after washing my hands and brushing my teeth, sighing softly as Abhimanyu slipped in beside me.
Without hesitation, I curled into him, pressing my cheek against his chest.
His arms came around me immediately, holding me close, protecting me.
His fingers moved to my sore arms, massaging them gently, while his other hand slid into my hair, brushing through the strands with slow, tender strokes.
I sighed, completely at peace.
His lips pressed against my forehead, lingering there. "Sleep, jaan," he murmured.
I pressed closer, my fingers curling into his shirt.