33 Pacifying My Best Friends Brother #3
He kissed a path down her sternum, over her quivering stomach, his tongue dipping into her navel.
The faint scent of jasmine from her clothes was being replaced by the heady aroma of her own arousal.
He moved lower, his breath ghosting over the neat triangle of hair at the apex of her thighs.
Her hands fisted in the sheets, anticipation coiling tight in her belly.
He settled between her legs, his shoulders pushing her thighs wider apart. He looked up at her from his position, his eyes burning with a dark fire. "I'm going to worship every inch of you," he promised, his voice a low murmur against her inner thigh. "And then I'm going to make you beg."
His words were a brand, and then his tongue was on her. He licked a long, slow stripe from her entrance to her clit, and a choked moan escaped her throat. The pleasure was immediate, overwhelming. He did it again, and again, establishing a rhythm that was designed to unravel her completely.
His hands gripped her hips, holding her steady as he feasted on her. He circled her clit with the tip of his tongue, tracing patterns that made her toes curl. He sucked the sensitive bundle of nerves into his mouth, and the pressure built to an almost painful peak.
Her back bowed off the bed, her hands flying from the sheets to his hair, holding him to her.
"Ansh," she gasped, his name a breathy prayer.
The first orgasm crashed into her without warning, a blinding wave of pleasure that ripped through her body.
She cried out, a sharp, loud sound of pure ecstasy.
Instantly, his mouth left her. His head snapped up, his eyes narrowed. "Niyati, keep it low," he commanded, his voice stern but thick with lust. "Diya or Mom might hear you."
The warning sent a fresh thrill through her, a dangerous edge to the intoxicating pleasure. She bit her lip, nodding mutely, her body still trembling from the aftershocks. He gave her a slow, wicked smile before lowering his head again. He wasn't done. Not even close.
He slid two fingers inside her, his mouth returning to her clit. The dual stimulation was exquisite. He curled his fingers, finding that spongy spot deep inside that made her see stars. He pumped his hand in time with the flicks of his tongue, building her up again, faster and harder this time.
The orgasm was even more intense, a violent shudder that wracked her frame. She managed to keep her cry to a strangled whimper, burying her face in the pillow to muffle the sound.
He didn't stop. He let her ride it out, his movements slowing but never ceasing. He was relentless, a man possessed. He kissed her trembling thighs, her stomach, her breasts, his mouth everywhere, tasting her sweat, her skin.
He was worshipping her, just as he'd promised, with a devotion that was both reverent and utterly debauched. He brought her to the edge again and again, each time pulling back just enough to prolong the exquisite torture, until she was a writhing, sobbing mess beneath him.
"Please," she finally choked out, the word torn from her throat. Her pride had dissolved, leaving only a desperate, primal need. "Ansh, please."
"Please what?" he rasped, lifting his head, his chin glistening with her wetness. He knew exactly what she wanted, but he was going to make her say it.
"Fuck me," she begged, her voice raw. "Please, I need your cock. Ansh, fuck me now."
A triumphant, possessive glint lit his eyes. He rose up over her, finally shedding his own control completely. His cock was hard again, jutting out from his body, thick and flushed with need. He positioned himself at her entrance, the head nudging against her slick, swollen folds.
He looked down at her, at her flushed face and pleading eyes, and a slow, satisfied smile spread across his lips. He had turned the tables completely. He had taken her apology and remade it into his own conquest.
He drove into her in one deep, powerful stroke, filling her completely.
She cried out his name, a broken, beautiful sound that he swallowed with a kiss.
He began to move, his thrusts hard and deep, claiming her body with a ferocity that left her breathless.
There was no more teasing, no more holding back.
He was fucking her, pounding into her with a rhythm that was both punishing and perfect.
The bed creaked softly, the only sound in the room besides their ragged breaths and the wet slap of skin on skin.
He reached between them, his thumb finding her clit, and with a few rough circles, he sent her hurtling over the edge one last time.
Her pussy clenched around him, a vice-like grip that pulled his own orgasm from him. He buried himself deep inside her with a guttural groan, spilling his cum into her, marking her as his from the inside out.
He collapsed on top of her, his weight a welcome, grounding pressure. They lay tangled together, their bodies slick with sweat, their hearts hammering in tandem. The apology was finished. The storm was over.
In the quiet aftermath, wrapped in each other's arms, there was only peace, and the profound, unshakeable certainty that they belonged, irrevocably, to each other.
Ansh tightened his grip around my waist, his warm chest rising and falling rhythmically against mine. He shifted slightly, brushing a damp strand of hair away from my forehead before tilting his head down to look into my eyes.
"Niyati, baby... are you okay?" he murmured softly, his voice heavy with a lingering, velvety huskiness.
I nodded against his chest, but a helpless, involuntary shiver ran through my body-a quiet tremor left in the wake of the intense, breathtaking pleasure that had just consumed me.
Observing my reaction, Ansh's dark eyes filled with gentle concern. "Any pain?" he asked, his thumb lightly stroking my hip.
I looked up at him, my heart fluttering at his tenderness, and offered him a faint, reassuring smile. "A bit at first... but it was completely replaced by pleasure, na."
A relieved, radiant smile broke across Ansh's face. He leaned down and pressed a long, soft kiss into my hair, pulling me flush against him for a few stolen seconds.
The reality of where we were slowly drifted back into my mind. I shifted slightly in his arms, glancing toward his locked bedroom door with a sudden prickle of anxiety. "I should probably get going... before Diya wakes up or Aunty decides to march in here and sees us like this."
Ansh let out a quiet, breathless chuckle, though he nodded in agreement. "Yeah. You're right about that."
With reluctant sighs, we untangled ourselves from the tangled sheets.
A sweet, shared silence filled the room as we dressed, the atmosphere thick with an unspoken intimacy.
After smoothing down my dress and making sure my hair looked reasonably composed, I turned toward him with a soft, bittersweet smile.
"Okay, Ansh... see you later," I whispered, reaching for the doorknob.
Before my fingers could turn the brass handle, Ansh's hand shot out, wrapping gently around my wrist. I paused and looked back over my shoulder at him.
He pulled me back half a step, searching my face with a faint, longing look in his eyes. "I'm going back to Delhi tomorrow. Remember?"
The reminder hit me like a cold wave, instantly dampening the lingering warmth in my chest. "Oh... yeah," I murmured, my voice dropping. "I forgot for a second."
"And you'll be stuck here at home for your exam study week," he added quietly.
"Yeah..."
Without another word, Ansh pulled me into his chest, wrapping his arms securely around my back and holding me as tightly as he could.
I buried my face into the crook of his neck, looping my arms around his waist and breathing in the intoxicating scent of his cologne, already dreading the distance that would separate us in less than twenty-four hours.
"I'll miss you so much," I confessed softly against his skin.
"Me too, baby," he whispered, kissing the side of my temple.
He pulled back just enough to look down into my eyes, his tone shifting into something warm and practical.
"And don't forget to take the pill, okay? As much as I'd be happy to become the father of your child, I really don't want to ruin your studies right now."
A helpless laugh bubbled up from my throat, cutting right through the lingering sadness. I swatted his chest playfully. "I'll take it the second I get back to my house!"
"Good girl," he smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
After one last, lingering kiss that promised everything we couldn't say out loud, I quietly unlocked his bedroom door and slipped out into the empty hallway. My heart was light, floating on a cloud of quiet joy.
I tiptoed across the corridor and opened Diya's door, finding her still sound asleep, curled comfortably under her blanket.
Slipping inside, I settled softly onto the armchair by the window, resting my head against the frame as I looked out at the afternoon sky.
The lingering weight of secrets, fear, and uncertainty was finally gone.
We had survived the storm, saved the bond that mattered most, and carved out a truth that was entirely ours.
For the first time in a very long time, as I watched the sunlight dance across the room, I knew that whatever came next-the distance, the exams, or the future-we were ready to face it together.