Her body heated as old memories flooded her brain, the sweetness with which he’d brought her pleasure when they were young, the patience he’d shown. He was right. Despite it all, he’d never pressured her for sex. He’d broken her heart, but she’d given him her body because she’d wanted to.
“Fine.” She tipped her chin down. “I consent.”
“Good.” Vihaan took a step back to sit on the foot of his bed. Hands on either side of him, he leaned back with his knees resting apart like a king and ordered her. “Strip.”
Vera nearly baulked at the command, but one look at the straining vein in his neck betrayed how close he was to losing control. He tilted his head to the left, lifting his brow insolently in a gesture to tell her to get to it.
“You first,” she bargained, trying to test the waters of how long she could make him wait. Without a word, Vihaan began to unbutton his shirt, sliding it off without shame.
It was impossible not to stare. Fourteen years had changed every part of him. The lanky seventeen-year-old with boyish good looks had transformed into a stunning man with a washboard stomach and a body that screamed strength. Vera’s eyes travelled down the smooth skin of his torso and across his flat chest. The shadows on his abdomen made it look like someone had carved lines down his belly. Her eyes roamed up his forearm, tracing each curve and vein, his muscles toned and lean as his shoulders flared out, sturdy and wide. She’d always suspected that he was well-built under those custom Brioni suits he liked to wear but seeing him like this made her realise how defined each feature was, the sinewy strength in his well-proportioned body obvious in its bare state.
He stood up, single handedly unbuckling his belt. The air cracked when he whipped it off in one slick slide. His pants and boxers came right off, his erection jutting up, and Vera felt her mouth go dry. Had his dick grown too? His thick cock twitched, as if in response to her thoughts, the pink crown dark and almost angry looking when he gripped it at the base, giving it a slow tug. Vihaan’s low growl had her whipping her head back up, heat suffusing her face at the realisation that she’d been ogling his naked body with no attempt to be subtle.
“I’ve been waiting all evening to see what’s underneath that dress so strip, Vera, before I rip it off you. Don’t test my patience anymore— I’ll fail.”
Desire bloomed in her belly at his demand, her nipples peaking in anticipation. With shaky hands, she reached over and unzipped the side of her dress, slowly sashaying towards him as she eased the glittery straps over her shoulders. The riveted expression with which he watched her, the awe as every inch of her smooth skin was revealed to him, boosted her confidence. Despite their hate, they couldn’t hide certain truths. They lusted for each other witha ferocity that was more intense now than when they’d been two hormonal teenagers.
She stopped an arms length away and let go. With a silky whoosh, her dress fell to the floor, leaving her clad in nothing but a red, lacy G-string.
“Fuck,” he cursed softly. “You were naked underneath the whole time?”
“I have underwear on.”
“This hardly counts.”
He reached out, drawing the back of his knuckles along her collarbone, down her torso and across her ribs in a way that had her breathing harder. Eyes locked with hers, his touch burned a fiery path towards her navel before hooking a finger into the waistband of her thong. A single tug had her tumbling into him, her chest brushing against his in a way that had her nipples puckering to sharp points.
Vera could barely stand when he bent in front of her, sliding her thong down her legs and chucking them behind his shoulder without care. Warm fingers curved over her hips, shaping the sides of her waist, going up her back and then downwards, squeezing and petting every mound and dip with the studiousness of a connoisseur profiling an art piece. His hungry gaze remained trained on the pulsing flesh between her legs, the unbridled need glittering in his dark eyes making her lightheaded.
“All your curves—you’re so gorgeous, it’s a sin you have to wear clothes,” he rasped, drawing his hands up to cup her breasts, his thumbs flirting with the tips of her nipple.
She gasped when Vihaan swooped her up, forcing her to straddle his thighs when he sat on his bed again. His hands slid into her hair to pull her face towards him but he frowned when she turned so his lips fell on her cheek.
“You don’t need to kiss me to fuck me,” she murmured, drawing back to look at him. Kissing could lead to gentle moments, and shewanted no such interactions with him. The more raw and sexual their time together, the easier it would be to leave Vihaan behind in the shadows of this night.
“We kissed in the storage room,” he argued.
“Like you said, neither of us was thinking then.”
His eyes narrowed, as if wanting to rebel against her. With a firm grip on her hips, he pulled her flush onto him, his stiff arousal twitching right under her.
“Is kissing another red line?” he asked, pressing his lips to her collarbone instead. Her breath hitched when he began to gyrate beneath her, her pussy sliding open along the length of his cock. Her fingers tightened on his shoulders, digging into hard muscle as desire swirled inside, rooting itself deep within her, in a place where every other emotion melted away, leaving behind just pure need.
“Y-yes,” she stuttered, getting increasingly wet as the pressure against her clit intensified. Her hands found an anchor at his nape when he palmed one swollen breast and began to knead it, scraping the ridged circle of her aureola with his nail. She ground herself down against him, shuddering when he grabbed her ass with his free hand and squeezed, gripping it hard to control how much or how fast she moved.
“As long as I can have these gorgeous tits in my mouth, I’ll accept any condition,” he rumbled, his tongue drawing a wet line down the centre of her chest, languorously wrapping itself around one pebbled tip. Over and over, he tormented her, using the flat of his tongue to flick and lave at her peak until she was moving restlessly against him, her nails scraping his scalp as a furor of need built in her at a staggering pace. Every tug, suckle and bite had her writhing in need. God, his mouth was driving her crazy. For all the experiences she’d had with others, no one else had quite loved making out with her breasts like Vihaan did.
“More,” she demanded in a gasp, grinding in his lap, her chest thrust into his face, an offer he accepted without delay. Between thepossessive grip on her breast, his fingers tweaking and teasing her while he nudged her back and forth against him in a slick glide, she felt the flush of an incoming orgasm spread over her. She matched him, move for move, her body instinctively seeking that addicting friction, every thought focused on reaching that singular goal of ecstasy.
“Come on my lap, Princess,” Vihaan said, looking down between them. “Spread your legs and keep that pussy on display. I want to see how wet you get, grinding against my cock.”
Too desperate to question him, she shifted her knees wider. The heat of her arousal coating his turgid skin had them both moaning in unison, the view of her moving over him so erotic, she couldn’t look away. Vihaan pinched, rubbed and plucked every part of her, one hand sneaking between their bodies to thumb her clit in a rhythm that had her whimpering and thrusting against him. His arm tightened around her just as tremors shook her svelte form, her release rushing through her with invigorating speed.
Broken breaths and soft exhales were the only sounds remaining, their connection very much intact. But the look in his eyes told her that they weren’t done.
Of course not.
The night was still young.