13 First Of 48 Hours （18）
Ansh didn’t move. He stood just inside the door, his chest rising and falling a little too fast, his gaze locked on her. The way he looked at her—like she was something rare, something he’d been starving for—sent a slow, hot pulse between her thighs.
She could see the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers flexed at his sides, as if he were fighting the urge to reach for her.
Then his voice, rough and low, cut through the silence.
"I need you."
Not a request. A confession. A demand. The words hung between them, thick with everything they’d been denying themselves. Niyati’s pulse spiked, her skin prickling with the sudden, electric understanding of what was about to happen.
She turned fully toward him in his embrace, her lips parting, but no sound came out. She didn’t need to speak. The way her breath hitched, the way her fingers curled into the hem of her sundress—he saw it all.
His hands found her waist, gripping hard enough to bruise, and then his mouth was on hers, hot and desperate. Niyati melted into him, her body arching against his as if she could crawl inside his skin.
The kiss wasn’t gentle. It was two months of frustration, of late-night fantasies and stolen touches, crashing together in a collision of teeth and tongue.
She moaned into his mouth, her nails digging into his shoulders through the thin fabric of his shirt, her hips already rolling against his thigh, seeking friction.
He groaned, the sound vibrating against her lips, and then his hands were everywhere—sliding up her ribs, cupping her breasts through the fabric, thumbs brushing over her nipples until they hardened into tight, aching peaks.
Niyati gasped, breaking the kiss just long enough to drag in a shuddering breath before his mouth found her neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin just below her ear. She whimpered, her head falling back to give him better access, her body already thrumming with the promise of more.
"Fuck, I’ve missed you," Ansh growled against her skin, his voice raw. His fingers hooked into the neckline of her dress, tugging it down just enough to expose the lace edge of her bra. "Missed this. Missed you."
Niyati’s hands flew to his shirt, fumbling with the buttons in her haste. She needed him naked. Needed to feel his skin against hers, to remind herself this was real, that he was here.
The fabric gave way under her trembling fingers, and she pushed the shirt off his shoulders, her palms flattening against the hard planes of his chest. His skin was hot, almost feverish, and the way his muscles jumped under her touch sent a fresh wave of wetness between her legs.
Ansh didn’t let her explore for long. His hands dropped to her hips, lifting her effortlessly before depositing her onto the edge of the bed.
The mattress dipped under her weight, and she barely had time to steady herself before he was on his knees in front of her, his hands sliding up her thighs, pushing her dress higher.
The cool air hit her exposed skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat of his breath as he pressed his face against the damp lace of her panties.
"Ansh—!" Her voice broke, her hips jerking upward instinctively. His tongue dragged over the fabric, the wet heat of his mouth seeping through, and Niyati’s fingers tangled in his hair, holding him there. "Please—"
He didn’t make her beg. One sharp tug, and her panties were gone, the fabric snapping as he tore them away. The first swipe of his tongue against her bare pussy was slow, deliberate, like he was savoring the taste of her after so long without it.
Niyati cried out, her back arching as her thighs trembled around his head. He groaned against her, the vibration making her clit throb, and then his fingers joined his mouth, two of them pressing inside her in one deep stroke.
"Fuck—! Oh god, yes—" Her voice was a breathless, broken thing, her hips rolling against his face as he fucked her with his fingers, his tongue circling her clit in tight, relentless patterns.
She could feel how wet she was, how easily his fingers slid in and out of her, the obscene sounds of it filling the room. It had been too long. Too long—
Ansh pulled back just enough to growl against her thigh, "You’re dripping for me, Niyuu. So fucking wet." His fingers curled inside her, hitting that spot that made her see stars, and she sobbed, her nails scraping against his scalp.
"I need you inside me," she gasped. "Now. Please."
He didn’t argue. In one fluid motion, he stood, his fingers leaving her empty as he fumbled with his belt. Niyati watched through heavy-lidded eyes as he freed his cock, thick and flushed, the tip already glistening with pre-cum.
Her mouth watered at the sight, but before she could reach for him, he was on her, his body covering hers as he pushed her back onto the bed.
The first press of his cock against her entrance made them both groan.
Ansh’s forehead dropped to hers, his breath coming in ragged bursts as he eased inside her, inch by slow, stretching inch.
"Fuck, you feel—" His voice broke, his hips stuttering as her tight heat enclosed him. "So good. Too good."
Niyati whimpered, her fingers digging into his back as she took him deeper. She was still adjusting to the size of him, the way he filled her so completely, but the ache was perfect, the stretch right.
When his hips finally met hers, she let out a shuddering breath, her legs wrapping around his waist to pull him even closer.
"Move," she begged, her voice a raw whisper. "Please, baby, I need you to—"Ansh didn’t need to be told twice. He pulled back and thrust into her hard, the slap of skin against skin filling the room. Niyati cried out, her back arching off the bed as pleasure spiraled through her.
He set a punishing pace, his cock pistoning in and out of her with deep, relentless strokes, each one hitting that spot inside her that made her vision blur.
"You’re mine," he growled, his lips crashing against hers in a bruising kiss. "Say it."
"Yours," she gasped between moans, her nails raking down his back. "Only yours—"
His hand found her clit, his thumb pressing down in tight circles as he fucked her, and the dual sensation sent her hurtling toward the edge. She could feel her orgasm building, coiling tight in her belly, her walls fluttering around his cock.
"Come for me," Ansh demanded, his voice rough with effort. "I want to feel you come on my cock, Niyuu. Now."
The command sent her over. Her back bowed, a broken cry tearing from her throat as her pussy clenched around him, her release crashing over her in waves.
Ansh groaned, his thrusts turning erratic as her tight heat milked him, and then he was coming too, his cock pulsing deep inside her as he spilled himself with a guttural groan.
They collapsed together, a tangle of limbs and ragged breaths, Ansh’s weight pressing her into the mattress. Niyati turned her face into his neck, her lips brushing against his pulse point as the last tremors of her orgasm faded.
His cock was still inside her, softening slowly, and she could feel the wet heat of his cum dripping out of her, marking the sheets beneath them.
Ansh lifted his head just enough to press a kiss to her forehead, his breath warm against her skin. "Two months was too fucking long," he murmured.
Niyati let out a soft, satisfied hum, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his back. "We have forty-eight hours," she reminded him, her voice thick with promise. "And I don’t plan on wasting a single second."
Ansh’s gaze darkened at her words, something deeper flickering behind his eyes—something patient, controlled… but dangerously close to snapping.
A slow smile curved on his lips.
“Careful what you promise, Niyati,” he murmured.
Before she could respond, he reached for her—his movements unhurried, deliberate. His fingers brushed against the fabric of her dress, and in one smooth motion, he slipped it from her grasp.
She blinked in surprise.
“Ansh… what are you—”
But he didn’t answer.
Instead, he more closer to her again, his presence suddenly everywhere—warm, close, overwhelming. The soft fabric of her dress brushed against her skin as he lifted it gently.
And then—
Darkness.
He tied the dress loosely across her eyes, covering her vision.
Her breath hitched instantly.
“Ansh…” she whispered, her voice softer now, edged with uncertainty and something else… anticipation.
His hands settled lightly on her shoulders, grounding her.
“Trust me,” he said quietly, his voice low near her ear.
Her heartbeat quickened, every other sense sharpening in the absence of sight. The room, the space, even him—everything felt closer, more intense.
She swallowed softly, her fingers curling slightly at her sides.
And then… she nodded.
Because she did trust him.
Even now.
Even like this.
And Ansh… felt it.
The warmth of Ansh’s breath ghosted over Niyati’s shoulder as his fingers lingered on the knot of the dress he blindfold her with, the silk sliding smoothly between his fingertips.
She could feel the weight of his gaze on her bare skin, the air still thick with the musk of sex and the salt-tinged humidity of Goa’s evening breeze drifting through the half-open balcony.
His other hand remained firm on her waist, grounding her, as if he knew the moment he covered her eyes, the world would tilt just enough to make her stumble.
"Trust me?" His voice was rough, the words more command than question, his lips brushing the shell of her ear.
Niyati exhaled, her fingers twitching at her sides before she nodded. The blindfold descended, cool and smooth, pressing gently over her eyelids before Ansh tied it snugly at the back of her head.
Darkness swallowed her vision, but the loss of sight sharpened everything else—the drag of his calloused thumb along her hipbone, the faint rustle of his jeans as he shifted behind her, the way his chest expanded against her back with each slow inhale.
"You’re trembling," he murmured, his palm flattening against her stomach, pulling her flush against him. The heat of his bare torso seeped into her skin, his cock—still half-hard from their last round—pressing against the small of her back. "Good."
She swallowed, her pulse jumping when his lips grazed the nape of her neck. "Where are you taking me?"
His chuckle was dark, vibrating through her. "You’ll see." His grip tightened just enough to guide her forward, and she took a hesitant step, her toes sinking into the plush carpet before meeting the cooler tile of the bathroom.
The air here was denser, saturated with the faint mineral scent of the sunken tub’s residual heat. Ansh’s hand slid up to her shoulder, his fingers tracing the curve of her collarbone before he urged her to stop.
"Don’t move," he ordered, his voice dropping to that low, gravelly tone that made her thighs clench.
The sound of water filled the silence—first a trickle, then a steady rush as he turned on the faucet. Steam curled into the air, dampening the skin of her arms, and she heard the clink of glass bottles, the slosh of liquid being poured.
The scent of something rich and floral—jasmine, maybe, or frangipani—drifted toward her, mixing with the underlying musk of Ansh’s cologne. Her breath hitched when his fingertips brushed her waist again, tracing the dip above her hip before gliding upward, skimming the underside of her breast.
"You’re so fucking beautiful like this," he growled, his mouth hovering just above her shoulder. "Blindfolded. Bare. Waiting for me to touch you."
Niyati arched into his hand, her nipples pebbling under his teasing strokes. "Ansh—"
"Shh." His fingers circled her wrist, lifting her arm until her palm pressed against the cool glass wall of the bathroom. "Stay."
She obeyed, her other hand finding the wall for balance as the water level rose, the tub filling with a slow, rhythmic gurgle.
Her lips parted, imagination filling in the gaps: the lean muscle of his thighs, the heavy swing of his cock, the way his abs would flex as he knelt to test the water.
Then his hands were back, gripping her waist, lifting her effortlessly. The air kissed her skin as he lowered her into the tub, the water scalding at first, making her gasp.
But her body adjusted quickly, the heat seeping into her bones, relaxing muscles still tender from their earlier fucking. She sank deeper, the water lapping at her collarbone, her knees drawn up to accommodate the tub’s depth.
Ansh settled behind her, his legs bracketing hers, his chest pressing against her back. His cock, thick and heavy, nestled against the cleft of her ass, and she couldn’t stop the way her hips rolled back, seeking friction.
His arms wrapped around her, one hand splaying over her stomach, the other dipping beneath the water to find her thigh.
"Lean back," he instructed, his voice rough.
She did, her head resting against his shoulder, the damp strands of her hair clinging to his neck.
His fingers trailed up her inner thigh, slow, deliberate, until they brushed the sensitive flesh of her pussy.
She was still swollen, her lips parted from their last orgasm, and the first graze of his fingertips made her jerk.
"Sensitive?" His breath was hot against her ear, his fingers circling her clit with maddening precision.
Niyati bit her lip, her nails digging into the porcelain edge of the tub. "Y-yes."
"Good." The word was a growl, his fingers pressing harder, rubbing in tight, wet circles. The water sloshed around them, the sound obscene, and she could feel his cock twitching against her ass, thickening with every whimper she let escape.
Then his other hand was there, cupping her breast, his thumb rolling her nipple between his fingers until it ached. She arched into his touch, her back bowing, and he took advantage, his mouth sealing over the pulse point beneath her ear.
His teeth grazed her skin, just shy of biting, and she moaned, her hips lifting into his strokes.
"You’re already so wet for me again," he murmured, his fingers slipping lower, teasing her entrance. "Fuck, Niyuu. I could spend hours just like this—watching you fall apart in my hands."
She wanted to argue, to demand more, but his fingers slid inside her, two at first, then a third, stretching her with a slow, twisting motion that made her vision whiten behind the blindfold.
The water rippled around his wrist, the resistance making every thrust of his fingers deeper, more relentless.
"Ansh—please," she gasped, her voice breaking.
"Please what?" His lips brushed her jaw, his free hand sliding up to grip her throat, tilting her head back against his shoulder. "You want my cock, baby? Or do you want to come on my fingers first?"
The filthy words sent a jolt through her, her inner walls clenching around him. "Both. I want—fuck, I want you."
His groan was raw, his fingers curling inside her as his thumb pressed down on her clit. "Then come for me. Now."
The command unraveled her. Her orgasm crashed over her in a wave, her body locking up before she shuddered, her pussy pulsing around his fingers. He didn’t let up, drawing out every aftershock until she was boneless, her breath coming in ragged pants.
Before she could recover, he was moving, lifting her and turning her in the water until she straddled his lap. His cock, thick and flushed, bobbed between them, the head already slick with pre-cum.
She reached for him blindly, her fingers wrapping around his shaft, and he hissed, his hands gripping her hips.
"Ride me," he ordered, his voice strained.
She didn’t need to be told twice. Lifting herself, she guided him to her entrance, sinking down inch by slow inch. The stretch burned, her body still sensitive, but the fullness was perfect, his cock hitting every spot that made her see stars.
Ansh’s hands slid up her back, one tangling in her hair, the other gripping her ass as she began to move.
The water sloshed around them, splashing over the edge of the tub as she rode him, her pace erratic at first, then finding a rhythm. His thrusts met hers, his hips lifting off the porcelain, driving him deeper with every snap of his waist.
The blindfold made everything sharper—the slick drag of his cock inside her, the way his breath hitched when she rolled her hips, the groan he let out when her nails dug into his shoulders.
"Fuck, you feel—so good," he grunted, his hand sliding between them to rub her clit again. "Come on, Niyuu. Milk my cock like that—just like that—"
His words sent her spiraling, her second orgasm crashing into her before she could even catch her breath.
Her pussy clenched around him, and with a guttural curse, Ansh followed, his cock pulsing deep inside her as he came.
She felt every jet, the heat of him filling her, his body trembling beneath hers as he spilled into her.
For a long moment, neither moved, their chests heaving, the water cooling around them. Then Ansh’s arms wrapped around her, pulling her down against his chest, his lips pressing to her temple.
"Forty-eight hours," he murmured, his voice rough with satisfaction. "And we’re just getting started."
For a long moment, neither of them moved, their breaths slowly settling as the warmth of the moment lingered between them.
Then Ansh shifted.
Carefully, he stepped out of the bathtub, reaching for a towel and wrapping it securely around his waist. Without wasting another second, he picked up another towel and gently draped it around Niyati, covering her completely before lifting her into his arms.
She let out a soft breath, instinctively leaning into him, her arms curling lightly around his neck.
He carried her to the bed with an ease that made her heart flutter all over again.
Laying her down carefully, he took a moment—just a second—to look at her, still blindfolded, still completely trusting.
Slowly, he reached forward and untied the fabric from her eyes.
Light returned.
And the first thing she saw… was him.
They didn’t speak.
They didn’t need to.
He leaned down, and their lips met again—this time slower, softer, like a quiet continuation rather than a storm. A kiss that lingered, deep but unhurried, carrying everything they didn’t say out loud.
When he pulled back, his expression had softened.
Gently, he used the towel to dry her, his movements careful, almost reverent, making sure she was comfortable. There was no rush in his touch now—only warmth, only care.
Once he was done, he set the towel aside and pulled the blanket over her, tucking it lightly around her shoulders.
“Rest for now,” he murmured, brushing a loose strand of hair away from her face.
She looked up at him, still flushed, still affected by everything that had just happened.
“We’ll continue in a while,” he added, a faint teasing note slipping into his voice. “You’ll need energy for the next round, na?”
Her cheeks burned instantly.
“Ansh…” she whispered, half embarrassed, half smiling.
But before he could move away, she caught his hand and pulled him back toward her.
Their lips met once more—soft, lingering, full of something deeper now.
And this time—
It wasn’t just about desire.
It was about everything they were slowly becoming together.