23
The cool, breezy night air hit them like a physical wall as they reached his dark sedan parked under the flickering glow of a streetlamp. The quiet of the street was a stark contrast to the thumping bass they had just escaped.
Shreyash opened the passenger door, gently depositing her onto the cool leather seat. He leaned over her, his hands trembling slightly as he pulled the seatbelt across her chest and clicked it into place. "Stay right here," he ordered breathlessly, his voice shaking. "Do not move, Adhira."
He practically ran around the hood of the car, desperate to get behind the wheel, lock the doors, and drive them to the safe, private sanctuary of their home.
He pulled open the driver's side door, slid behind the steering wheel, and let out a massive, shaky exhale.
He reached forward to put the key in the ignition.
But before his fingers could even brush the metal, the distinct, sharp click of a seatbelt unlatching echoed loudly in the quiet, enclosed cabin.
"Adhira, what..."
She didn't give him a single second to react.
Adhira climbed right over the center console.
The cramped space of the car made it a messy, desperate scramble of limbs and silk.
Her knee hit the bottom of the steering wheel, her thigh brushed heavily against the gearshift, and before he could process the movement, she was entirely in his lap again.
She straddled his hips in the incredibly narrow confines of the driver's seat, her knees sinking into the leather on either side of his thighs.
"Adhira..." he rasped, his hands immediately flying to her waist to stabilize her and keep her from crushing any buttons. The leather seat squeaked under their combined weight. "Adhira, please. We are parked on a public street. Anyone could walk by."
"The windows are heavily tinted," she whispered.
The tone of her voice sent a violent shiver down his spine. She had dropped all the sweet, giggly, drunken innocence from the party. Her voice was suddenly dark, husky, and vibrating with a reckless frustration that had been brewing for weeks.
"I am so tired of praising you while you just sit there taking it like a polite piece of wood, Shreyash," she murmured, her hands coming up to grip his broad shoulders. "Stop being such a good boy."
She leaned in, and the world stopped spinning.
She didn't kiss him. It would have been easier if she had.
Instead, she brought her face agonizingly close to his.
Their noses brushed, a slow, deliberate slide of skin against skin that sent a jolt of pure electricity straight to his groin.
She tilted her head, aligning her mouth perfectly with his, hovering just a singular millimeter away.
Every time she exhaled, he inhaled her breath.
The taste of salt, lime, and rich tequila flooded his senses, wrapping around him like a heavy blanket.
He hadn't touched a drop of alcohol all night, but Shreyash suddenly felt entirely, overwhelmingly drunk.
His head spun. His eyelids fluttered, dropping to half-mast.
He instinctively chased her mouth, a soft, needy whimper vibrating in his throat, but she pulled back just a fraction of an inch, denying him the contact.
"You want it?" she whispered, her lips ghosting against his as she spoke, the friction driving him to the edge of insanity. "You want me to kiss you, husband?"
"Yes," he breathed, his voice broken and rough. "Please, Adhira."
"Too bad," she purred, her eyes flashing with a dark, possessive kink. "You don't get to have it easy tonight."
Her hands didn't stay still. While keeping him trapped in this breathless, almost-kissing purgatory, her fingers began to trail down his body.
She dragged her nails lightly down the column of his throat, feeling his erratic, racing pulse.
She traced the hard line of his collarbone beneath his shirt.
Shreyash's breathing turned ragged. His chest heaved against hers, the enclosed space of the car heating up by the second.
His hands, previously hovering in polite restraint, violently clamped down on her waist. His long fingers gripped her hips with a bruising, desperate force, hauling her tighter against his body.
"Adhira," he groaned, his eyes entirely blown out, the dark irises swallowing the brown.
She slipped her hands under the hem of his shirt.
Her cool fingertips glided up his stomach, mapping the hard, tense ridges of his abdomen.
Shreyash gasped sharply, his stomach muscles contracting violently under her touch.
She traced circles over his chest, her palms flattening against his racing heart.
"You feel so good," she whispered, her lips brushing the corner of his mouth, so close, but never fully connecting. "You're so strong under my hands. I want to ruin you tonight, Shreyash. I want to tear this shirt off you and make you forget every single one of your goddamn restraint"
He was melting. The disciplined, stoic man was entirely dissolving under the heat of her touch and the filth of her words. He felt dizzy, blissfully happy, and completely at her mercy.
"Do it," he rasped, his forehead dropping against hers, his breath mingling with hers. "Ruin me."
Adhira let out a low, satisfied hum. She finally dragged her mouth away from his lips, leaving him chasing the ghost of her touch.
But she didn't pull away. Instead, she dragged her open mouth down the sharp, tense line of his jaw.
She found the incredibly sensitive, pulsing hollow right where his neck met his broad shoulder.
She opened her mouth, pressed her lips to the hot skin, and inhaled his scent, clean soap and the pure, masculine heat.
And then, she sank her teeth into his skin, and bit down hard.
Shreyash let out a sharp, fractured gasp, his spine arching violently against the car seat.
His entire body jolted beneath her, his fingers digging deep into the silk at her waist. The sharp, stinging pain mixed instantly with a blinding, explosive surge of adrenaline.
Adhira didn't just bite, she held onto it , sucking hard and deep against the sensitive, delicate skin of his neck, ensuring the mark she left would be dark, permanent, and utterly impossible to hide.
She breathed heavily against the fresh, throbbing bruise, her breath scalding hot on his wet skin. She dragged her tongue over the bite one last time, soothing the sting.
Shreyash just sat there, utterly paralyzed. He was pinned between the steering wheel and the soft leather seat, his chest heaving as if he had just sprinted a marathon. His dark eyes were wide, staring blankly at the dark velvet roof of the car ceiling.