29.Advantage.
“You’re going to cry,” he said darkly. “I don’t do vanilla.”
“Good,” I replied, dragging my tongue slowly over my lower lip. “I don’t like vanilla either.”
I don’t know what it was, maybe the alcohol was still running warm through my veins, maybe the tension that had been building between us for months but I knew what I was doing. Not perfectly sober, but not unaware either. I knew who he was. I knew who I was. And I knew this wasn’t some fairytale.
It was just one night. Nothing more. I’d be leaving soon anyway.
Lost in that thought, I didn’t notice when his fingers slid up and pushed the straps of my dress off my shoulders. The cool air brushed my skin just before his lips crashed against mine.
I tried to match his kiss, but his hand slipped behind my head, fingers fisting into my hair. He tugged, sharp enough to make me hiss and his mouth claimed mine, tongue demanding, entrance. I gave it.
I should have been angry. I should have pushed him away, slapped him for pulling my hair like that. But the heat that rushed through me betrayed every sensible thought.
It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t gentle. It was rough.
And God help me… it felt dangerously good.
My fingers slid into his hair, gripping the soft strands as I kissed him back with everything I had.
His mouth was warm, addictive, tasting faintly of alcohol and something darker, something entirely him. Every time our lips moved together, it felt less like a kiss and more like a slow burn spreading under my skin.
The world blurred at the edges.
All I could feel was the heat of his body over mine, the way his breath mingled with mine, the way his hands held me like he wasn’t sure whether to control me or lose himself in me.
His lips weren’t just soft anymore they were consuming. And I was responding just as fiercely, pulling him closer, tasting him deeper, like I needed more.
Like I couldn’t get enough.
It wasn’t just intoxication from the drinks.
It was him.
And I was already dangerously hooked.
He felt like a drug, slow, dangerous, impossible to quit, and I… I was already addicted.
His hands roamed downward over my body, sliding from my arms to my breasts. He grabbed them and squeezed firmly, like they were nothing more than a stress ball.
I couldn’t help but moan louder.
Yugant pulled away from my lips and looked into my eyes those dark, intoxicating eyes that felt heavier than the alcohol in my veins.
I wondered if he was more drunk than I was after just three shots.
“It’s your last chance,” he murmured, voice low. “Stop me if you want.”
I grabbed his collar and pulled him closer, our breaths colliding. “You’re making me angry,” I warned. “Just do it already.”
I was burning. Not just physically emotionally. Everything inside me felt reckless.
He looked at me like I was a disaster he didn’t know how to control. “You’re a crackhead,” he muttered, shaking his head. “You don’t know what you’re doing. Samarth is coming soon. If he finds out all of this, I’ll be dead.”
My heartbeat skipped.
“Bhai is coming?” I grabbed his face in both my hands. “Is it true?”
He smiled faintly and lay back on the bed.
What an idiot.
I straddled him instantly, sitting on his stomach, leaning down until our faces were inches apart. “Did you send Ishaan to Dubai? Is Bhai really coming?” My voice was restless, desperate.
He nodded.
He actually nodded?
Relief flooded me so fast it felt unreal. I leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. “ Thank You.”
He folded his arms behind his head, watching me lazily through heavy eyes. “If Samarth comes… you’ll leave, won’t you?”
I nodded.
That was always the plan. Him and I...we were nothing. Just two strangers tied together by my selfish desperation.
“I’ll miss you,” he said quietly. His throat moved when he swallowed.
Something tightened in my chest but I ignored it.
My gaze drifted over him the sharp lines of his body, the rise and fall of his chest, the heat radiating from him. Why was I feeling like this? Why was I so hungry for him?
My palm pressed against his bare chest, feeling his heartbeat wild, fast. I looked into his eyes and licked my lips unconsciously.
“I mean…” I cleared my throat. “You helped me a lot. Let me… repay the debt tonight.”
He caught my hand over his heart. “Repay? How?”
I bit my lower lip, pushing his hand away, my fingers moving toward his belt. The soft metallic click echoed in the quiet room as I unbuckled it.
His eyes closed briefly. His jaw tightened. He was controlling himself, I could see it.
But just as I started to move further, he grabbed my wrist and flipped us smoothly. In seconds, he was above me.
“You don’t owe me anything,” he said, voice strained. “I did all of that for Samarth. He’s my best friend.”
“But you wanted this,” I replied. “You threw that five-night deal in my face. This is what it included, didn’t it?”
“It didn’t,” he replied firmly. “I was testing you. Messing with you the way you were messing with me.”
I blinked.
So he wasn’t trying to use me. He was reacting to me and still… he cared.
“Okay,” I whispered after a second. “But can we do it now?”
God. I sounded so fucking desperate.
He stroked my cheek slowly. “Do what?”
I swallowed, meeting his gaze head-on. “Can we… sleep together?”
No shame. No hesitation.
“And why do you want that?” he asked softly.
Because I’m scared, I wanted to say. Because I’m leaving. Because if I don’t touch you now, I’ll regret it.
“You said you love me. You wanted to marry me but I can't marry you because I don’t love you.” My voice wavered slightly. “But I am attracted to you. And you’re attracted to me.”
He didn’t interrupt.
“So if we cross this line once,” I continued stubbornly, “we’ll get closure. You won’t keep imagining what could’ve happened. I won’t keep wondering either. We’ll scratch this itch, and when I leave with Bhai, it’ll be easier. Clean break. No emotional baggage.”
For a few seconds he just stared at me then he let out a low chuckle.
“That’s your genius strategy?” he murmured. “Physical therapy for emotional detachment?”
“Yes,” I said defensively.
He shook his head, amused or almost pained.
“You really think one night would make it easier for me to let you go?”
My confidence flickered. Because suddenly… I wasn’t sure anymore.
“If not for you,” I muttered stubbornly, “then at least it’ll make things easier for me. So let’s just do it.”
“NO. Sleep, silly girl.” He snapped, glaring at me with those intense eyes like I had personally offended his existence.
I rolled my eyes dramatically. “Fine. Then let me go. I’ll go find some hot guy outside and spend the night with him.”
I tried pushing him away.
He didn’t move. Instead, he tightened his grip and dropped his face into the crook of my neck, his breath warm against my skin.
“Mr. Raizaada, let me go,” I protested. “I’m feeling too hot like this.”
No response.
“Seriously, let me go,” I tried again, wriggling under him. “If you don’t have the courage to handle me, at least don’t block someone else from trying.”
That did it.
His body stilled.
Slowly, he lifted his head and looked down at me.
“Careful,” he said quietly, too quietly. “Don’t provoke me.”
“Oh?” I tilted my chin up, pretending confidence I wasn’t fully feeling. “Why? Does that hurt your ego? Or are you scared you won’t be able to keep up?”
His jaw tightened.
“You’re playing with fire,” he murmured.
“Then burn me,” I shot back recklessly.
“You’re playing with fire,” he murmured.
“Then burn me,” I shot back recklessly.
“Dhwani…” he said my name so softly it felt like a melody against my skin.
“Yes, Yugant,” I answered in the same tone, my mind hazy.
He leaned down, stopping just an inch away from my lips. His warm breath brushed against me, driving me insane, stealing whatever logic I had left.
I grabbed his face and pulled him down, pressing my lips to his.
This time the kiss was slower, deeper like he was trying to speak through it.
I parted my lips, inviting him in. He kissed me intensely yet unhurriedly, as if savoring every second, as if memorizing me.
At that moment, I felt like I could stay like this forever.
When he pulled away, our shared hunger stretched between us, the kiss ending messily, breathlessly. Did I feel ashamed?
Absolutely not.
I wanted more.
“You really want this?” he asked, searching my face.
“Yes,” I breathed.
“You won’t regret it?”
“Never.”
He held my gaze for a long second.
“Fine. You’re getting what you asked for. But don’t you dare pretend you don’t remember any of this. And if you do…” his voice dropped lower, rougher, “I’ll remind you. Every single detail, again.”
A shiver ran through me.
I nodded instantly.
Right now, I just wanted him.
He lowered his head again, his lips brushing along my jaw, then trailing down my throat to my collarbone, slow and deliberate.
My fingers slid over his shoulders, pushing his shirt aside, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath my palms.
I was feeling everything every touch, every breath, every heartbeat.
That’s when a thought crossed my mind. I drank a lot tonight. Not fully sober… but not gone either.
Last time I drank one bottle and it was enough to completely blur my senses. Tonight, I had far more, yet I still felt aware. Not fully steady… but conscious.
Why was there such a difference?
Did the bartender give me something else instead of alcohol?
A small flicker of doubt crept into my hazy mind. I’ll deal with that bartender in the morning, I paid him so much and he betrayed me.
“Ahh!” I hissed as his teeth grazed my cleavage, pulling me out of my thoughts.
He sucked there for a few seconds, and then his hands moved along my back, sliding the zipper of my top fully open. Within moments, I felt the chill air brush against my skin as he looked at my breasts, still hidden behind my strapless bra.
His eyes were so intense that I couldn’t maintain eye contact. As I looked away, he unhooked the bra. Within seconds, I felt his tongue against my breast.
A gasp left my lips again as he gripped my waist and pulled me down, our lower part came in contact, making my toes curl. His hand stretched out, as his fingers brushed against the side table, and in the next moment, the room was swallowed by darkness.
The only sound inside the room was our uneven breaths, the quiet rustling of sheets as he pulled the comforter over us. Hidden beneath its cocoon, his lips moved me down there—slower, deeper, more consuming.
The soft fabric of my skirt now lay abandoned on the cold floor, with his clothes, a silent witness to the passion igniting in this dimly lit room.
Each touch, each kiss, each whispered name deepened the hunger between us, turning the night into an intoxicating haze of desire.
The room was filled with heat, the air thick with desire as Yugant moved against me, his name falling from my lips in breathless moans.
My nails dragged over his skin as I arched beneath him, meeting his rhythm with my own urgency.
"Faster..." I gasped, my body trembling under his.
He looked up meeting my eyes, his deep chuckle vibrating against my throat as he pressed a kiss just below my ear. "Ohh, so you can make these dirty noises. Cute." he murmured, his voice husky with amusement and want. "I thought I would have to fuck the voice out of you, not into you."
Ohh so he already imagined me on his bed when I was playing mute?
I opened my mouth to respond instead, I whimpered as he thrust harder, taking it like a challenge, his pace growing more relentless, drawing out the sounds he so desperately wanted to hear. The bed creaked beneath us, our bodies tangled in the heat of the moment, lost in each other.
He nuzzled his face in the crook of my neck inhaling something. "You taste sweeter than I ever imagined," he rasped, coming back to my lips before claiming them once more, deepening the kiss as if sealing my fate to him.
I don’t know at what point the night finally slowed, when the fire settled into quiet embers and the room stopped spinning.
All I remember is the last word that slipped from my lips, barely louder than a breath.
“Worth it.”
Every reckless touch. Every stubborn argument. Every second of heat and chaos.
Worth it.
My body felt heavy not just from exhaustion, but from everything we had poured into those hours. My skin still tingled where he had touched me. My heartbeat had finally slowed from its wild rhythm.
When he lay down beside me, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight, I didn’t think. I shifted closer, pressing into him, resting my head over his chest. His skin was warm. His heartbeat steady beneath my ear. Real.
For someone who claimed she didn’t love him… I fit in there too easily.
?
I woke up to a splitting headache.
Not the normal kind. The kind that feels like someone is drilling through your skull from the inside.
I groaned and opened my eyes slowly.
Ceiling. Not mine.
That was the first red flag.
I blinked a few times, trying to adjust. The lighting was different. The curtains were beige. My room had grey blackout drapes.
This was not my room.
I shut my eyes again and forced myself to think.
Club.
Dhwani.
Alcohol.
Room upstairs.
Right.
I slowly pushed myself up, pressing my fingers to my temples. My head throbbed harder with the movement.
And then I looked down and my brain stopped.
I was naked.
Completely. Bare.
“What the fuck-”
I threw the comforter aside and scanned the floor frantically. My shirt was crumpled near the corner. My trousers halfway under a chair. I pulled it out and put it in.
Then my eyes landed on a skirt.
A very familiar skirt. My heart began hammering violently against my ribs.
No.
No, no, no.
I swallowed hard and turned my head slowly back to the bed.There was a woman sleeping beside me. Hair spread across the pillow. Bare shoulders visible above the sheet. My lungs forgot how to function.
For three full seconds, my brain refused to process anything then I exploded.
“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”
The woman jolted.
“Whaaat?!” she groaned, burying her face into the pillow.
I stared at her.
At the familiar messy bun half-open. At the familiar pout forming even in sleep. Relief didn’t come but panic increased.
“DHWANI?!” I yelled.
She squinted one eye open. “Why are you shouting like a goat?”
Goat?
That insult was very specific.
“Why are you here?” I demanded, clutching the trouser around my waist.
She blinked at me. “You brought me?” she mumbled.
Yes! My mistake.
I pointed at myself. “Why was I naked?!”
She looked down lazily under the sheet… at herself then looked back at me.
“You think I ironed your clothes before removing them?”
Fucking answer properly mad woman.
“What happened last night?” I demanded.
She yawned. “You don’t remember?”
That was not the answer I wanted. My head throbbed harder.
“Dhwani,” I said slowly, dangerously calm now. “Tell me one thing clearly.”
She rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling.
“Yes?”
“Did you take advantage of me?”
She turned her head very slowly.
“Well technically yes! You were drunk. I was drunk. So it just happened
“ Was it even consensual?” I asked, already scared.
“Okay! It wasn’t consensual in the start,” she said casually, stretching her arms above her head like she was talking about the weather, “but then when we started, it became consensual.”
My neck snapped toward her.
“What do you mean it became consensual?” I demanded.
She rolled her eyes. “Relax. I mean we were both being dramatic. You were giving lectures. Then we kissed. Then we argued again. Then we kissed more. Then you flipped me. Then I flipped you. Then it just, ” she made a vague circular motion with her hand, “progressed.”
I stared at her.
“That’s your explanation?”
“Yes.”
“That’s not an explanation, that’s a disaster timeline.” She shrugged. “It was hot.”
Hot my ass!
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