When her lips press against mine, I can't control myself any longer. I pull her until she's straddling me, her bare legs wrapped around my waist as her dress rides up.
I'm given unprecedented access to her warm, naked thighs, burning me through my shirt, the thin button down doing nothing to keep me from feeling the heat of her skin.
But that's not where I want my hands- at least not yet.
I reach for the damned clip that holds her hair in that tight bun and give it one sharp tug, sending a cascade of hair tumbling around my fingers.
She pulls back for a moment to stare into my eyes, and I know she can see the blatant desire swirling in them. My eyes flick down to those tempting lips, parted and swollen with my ministrations.
I look up at her once, and then I take her in a hard, passionate kiss that pushes her against the pillows of my couch. She nips at my lips with her teeth, her hands cupping my cheeks as she pulls me closer.
Her legs shift involuntarily, and I groan at the sensation of being cradled between her thighs. I can see the barest hint of lace peeking out from underneath her dress, and I take her breast in my mouth. She writhes underneath me, gasping as her head falls against the pillow in pleasure. I feel the tips harden against my lips, straining against the material of her dress.
My hands slide up her thighs, and I reach for the hem, trailing my fingers up the soft skin. She moans, a low, guttural sound that ignites the frenzied desire in me, and I can't stop myself from taking her lips in my own once more.
"Khushi..."
I involuntarily murmur her name against her lips, and I feel her stiffen instantly. I've reminded her that it's me she's with, and her panicked eyes snap to mine.
Before I can do anything, she's ripped herself from my grasp, pulling herself up as she frantically searches for the lost clip. She swears when she can't find it, and pulls her hair into that cursed tight bun as she slips on her shoes, stumbling out of my door.
I sink down into the sofa, cupping my head in my hands as I call out her name feebly again, not truly wanting her to come back. Not yet.
My body craves for release, to have her within me and cradled in my arms. I know that no matter what I do, I won't get satisfaction.
Not without her, not tonight.
This piercing desire that has a grip on me like Peter's silver hand is unnerving, and I'm not used to this pounding need to have someone. I haven't ever wanted anything this badly in my life, and ironically, it happens to be the one girl I turned away.
As a teenage boy, I had found it amusing to tease her and watch her fiddle with the ends of her braid, nervously pushing the glasses up her nose as she turned a bright red. I had made it a point to dash her hopes every day, simply to gain the satisfaction of having someone under my control.
But life has a way of coming back to bite you, and it certainly has for me.
This overpowering desire for her, the physical need to have her, is something I could not have anticipated when I had read her name under NK's upon AR Corporation's acquisition of Triangle Plus.
Admittedly, I had promised NK I would step in for the Bachelor partially because of my insatiable curiosity to find out why the most talented girl of my grade was filming a trashy TV show on a struggling channel.
I had expected her to be the same Khushi I knew in high school, the one with a slicked plait, thick glasses, and rainbow braces with an armful of textbooks.
Instead, I was confronted with a grown woman with curves that were clearly visible underneath her baggy sweatshirts.
I had watched, mesmerized, when she had let her silky hair loose for a minute, before redoing the bun, and my fingers had itched to pull the hair loose and run through it, over and over again.
Her eyes glinted with curiosity behind glasses that now seemed to suit her face, giving her a mature, knowledgeable look instead of the nerdy, know-it-all expression she constantly seemed to wear in high school.
But at the sight of me, her hazel eyes had darkened with distinct dislike, and I found myself instead wondering what they would look like if they were clouded in desire instead.
I knew she wasn't fond of me, given the fact that I had shamelessly used my knowledge of her crush against her in high school.
But that didn't stop me from trying to gain her favor again.
I had expected it to be simple. Flashing an easy smile and pouring on the charm was generally enough to have a woman swooning at my feet, but Khushi had met me with even more disdain.
Along with that disdain, I had seen another emotion swirling in her eyes. I hadn't missed the desire swirling in her eyes when I had walked in to hand her the pills, sweeping over my bare chest. It had taken all of my frayed control to not pull my shirt off of her right there, and her smooth legs peeking out from underneath had taunted me relentlessly.
I couldn't resist the opportunity to see that desire again when I had come upon her in the dressing room, calmly putting away her tripod. The way she had turned up her nose at my predicament earlier had me looking for revenge, and flustering her was a chance I simply couldn't miss.
I had pinned her against the wall, only intending to get close enough to bring the appealing blush to her face. But seeing her eyes flutter close and her pouted, pink lips part, had broken the last bits of my control, and I had leaned in, completely mesmerized
I couldn't hold back the almost paralyzing desire for her, and I had brushed my lips against hers in an attempt to alleviate the pressure of the want coursing through my veins.
Despite NK's untimely interruption, I had thought that the taste of her would make the longing go away.
I had been wrong.
The next couple of days had been hell, with the barest taste of her lips lingering on my own. I could still taste the hint of coconut from her Chapstick, and it had been driving me insane.
So when Arushi had quit, I had appointed Khushi in her position. She had helped matters by offering me a business dinner.
I had planned to kiss her that night, knowing that I would finally be able to rid myself of the piercing need for her.
It was a wonderful, perfectly respectable plan.
Until I had come upon her arguing with her parents, and I had heard every single word.
I had felt for her, having been the target of the harsh accusations of failure myself a few years back. When Dad handed over the reins of AR to me, people had expected the company to continue its rise to success.
But I hadn't been able to handle the responsibilities at the time, being all of 23. I lacked experience, and I had made some bad choices for our company. The naysayers never failed to show up, and I was deemed the biggest failure of the year.
I hated my father at the time for watching me silently as I stumbled over and over again, with the laughs and jeers of the critics in my ears.
But it had made me stronger, and as my father had predicted, I learned to pull myself up. AR had become one of the biggest companies of our time, and was now even more successful than when my father had been its head.
The quiet pride in his eyes was worth every taunt, every bit of agony that I had been put through.
I had hated him at the time, but I came to realize that he didn't mean the worst for me. He wanted me to learn on my own, without a parent to constantly coddle me.
And it had worked.
I could relate to Khushi when she walked out of her parents apartment, tears filling her hazel eyes. I could hear her mother's pained cries, and her father's harsh words.
But I couldn't bring myself to hate her father, not when I knew how much he loved his daughter.
I distinctly remembered the pride when she won yet another award for her writing, or when she won the science spelling bee. I remember the simmering anger when people surreptitiously put her down when she chose to go into film.
I saw my own father in him, and behind the cutting words, I could hear the pain of seeing his own daughter suffer.
Khushi, the ace student of our high school with endless awards in math and science, had shocked everyone with her decision to go to New York University for their prestigious film program.
She had always been a phenomenal writer, and she was often the one behind the camera for any video the school needed.
But her talent in math and science combined with her heritage had assured the entire community that she would do as every, other Indian child would do- become a doctor.
She had shocked all of us, but what shocked me more was that she hadn't found success yet.
I had been surprised upon realizing that she wasn't on the red carpet, accepting her fifth Oscar. It was a place I knew she deserved, having seen the potential in high school.
But the film industry is brutal, and it's no surprise that she's struggling. She's not the only talented one out there, and in order for her to succeed, she needs what the others have: connections.
Which is why I did something that I would have never expected myself to do.
As she napped, I picked up the phone and dialed a number, speaking quietly with the person on the other side. I knew she had an independent streak, so I warned him not to say anything to the woman in question.
I had placed the phone down mechanically, still grappling with the fact that I had done something I never would have done if it hadn't been her.
Had I done the wrong thing?
My eyes had fallen on her sleeping figure, light snores escaping from her lips as she sprawled out over the couch, clutching the blanket tightly to her chest. The tips of her toes peeked out, and I could see a stray piece of hair fluttering lightly as her breath came out in soft gushes.
The sight of her had reaffirmed my choice, and I had brushed it off as making up for all that I had put her through in high school.
Everyone needs a little help sometimes, and she was no exception.
And I owed her one for being an idiot teenage boy, didn't I?
I had decided to go through with my plan, ignoring the unease settling in my stomach telling me that I was wrong. I would kiss her, and the teasing taste I had gotten earlier would be satisfied, thereby getting rid of the pulsing need for her.
But I quickly learned that with Khushi Kumari Gupta, nothing ever goes as planned.
The sight of her stammering as she failed to hide the evidence of her fondness for me had goaded me into taunting her.
She had blatantly denied ever having a crush on me, despite the appealing, heated blush rising to her cheeks.
She had bit down on her lower lip upon realizing that her voice was too high, laden with embarrassment at being caught.
And it had only fuelled my desire more.
The strength of the attraction I felt for her was almost scaring me, her seemingly innocent actions sending blood rushing straight down to my most prized possession.
So I had done what I had thought would solve the situation.
I had challenged her, knowing that she wouldn't be able to resist. Even in high school, Khushi Gupta had been insufferably competitive.
And she never turned down a challenge.
It hadn't surprised me when she had flung herself at me, her lips molding to mine.
But it had surprised me that I couldn't let go. My hands seemed to have a will of their own, and I longed to pull all the clothes off of her one by one, dropping them in a pile on the floor until she's trembling with anticipation.
I wanted to see her eyes mirroring my own in their desire, to feel her thrust against me and hear her scream my name. I wanted to take her with blinding passion, and then again slowly and tenderly.
Her name had spilled from my lips at that moment, and the minute it was out, I knew that my raw desire and need for her was reflected in my voice.
The second I had seen her eyes, I knew that she knew it too.
My plans have gone horribly awry, something I haven't experienced since my failure as the CEO of AR Corporations early in my career.
I thought that kissing her would solve everything, and the pounding need for her would fade away.
But as I search for the lingering taste of coconut on my lips, I realize that if anything, I want her more than ever.
Damn her.
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