Bahon Mein Tere Masti Ke Ghere
Chapter 23
When Tanu saw them return to the table she knew it was all over.
Dang! This was not good.
Zoya blushed when Omar looked at her with a lop-sided grin and a raised eyebrow.
On the way back home, Asad couldn't resist looking at Zoya in the rear view mirror. She caught him looking and smiled shyly but looked out of the window for most of the ride.
At the restaurant, Najma had kept begging Asad to allow her to ride back with Omar since for some reason Zoya wasn't going with him. Asad, gently but firmly, told her that she could come home on Ayaan's bike. It made no sense for Omar to come back to their place. After all there was enough room in the SUV for all of them.
Zoya smiled.
Omar however, was not to be dismissed so easily. He looked directly at Asad and said, "Hey I'll join you all, since the party is moving back home. I'm totally free."
Zoya nearly snorted. Jahanpanah's tehzeeb wouldn't allow him to be rude!
"Zo?" asked Omar indicating his bike.
"Umm, Omar, I'll ride in the car." And she gave him a look. He grinned and shrugged.
"Okay, I'll see you all at the house in a few."
And that is how the cavalcade with a twin motorcycle escort proceeded to the Khan Villa.
In the parking lot, Asad had politely opened the passenger seat door for Tanu, and then the back door for Zoya. As she raised her leg to get inside, he had pinched her butt painfully. She exhaled and nearly giggled out loud. He had thrust something in her hand and then closed the door after her. All the way back home, her fingers had lovingly traced the outline of a velvet box. She didn't want to think of what could be inside.
Instead she wanted to savor everything that had happened in a little room an hour ago. She had closed her eyes and replayed his touch on her body, the feel of his lips against hers and their hot grinding and friction that had set her nerves aflame and brought her close to coming. Head thrown back in surrender she had smelled her own arousal in that tiny space.
She was wet again. For that matter, she had been wet all evening. Oh god, if Tanu weren't in the car she would have been in the passenger seat. She would have boldly placed her hand on his thigh to feel his muscles bunch in anticipation. She would have slowly moved her hand up and tried to unzip him.
He would hold her hand tight to stop her.
She would lean closer to whisper in his ear, "please."
"No!"
"Yes."
"Zoya---!"
Nipping his ear she'd purr, "Jahanpanah, you are all mine now." Would he groan with desire and press her hand to cup him?
"And this kaneez will have her way with you," she would tease huskily. He would definitely leap against her hand, and she would laugh throatily.
She'd thrust her tongue in his ear and lick and suck his ear lobe. He would have groaned and his grip on her hand would loosen, passion fast overcoming his reserve. She would unsheath him and he would gasp.
"So tell me Mr. Khan," she would have breathed against his mouth, snaking her tongue out to lick the corner of his parted mouth while stroking his length. Slowly rasping a fingernail up and down his pulsating ridge and running her thumb over his wet tip, she would finally push him over the edge, "uhmm, do you want me to swallow?"
"Zoyaaa!" He would growl and hiss through gritted teeth hotly, taut with desire, and she would go down on him.
He better have good control over the car when she did do this for real, she thought through her haze.
She stirred restlessly and looked up to see him staring at her in the rear-view mirror. She blushed. If he just saw what was on her mind he would probably run and hide in his room like all those times before. But no, she had seen a much bolder, mouthier, and handsier side of him in that storeroom.
Oh god, that storeroom. It was her favorite and happiest place in the world right now. She would make him bring her back to this restaurant again and again, and he'd better not waste anytime in mounting her and making her eyes roll back in her head by pounding her brains out in that same storeroom. Her thighs clenched and she throbbed in frustration.
Back home, Ayaan and Omar had stayed back for coffee and the cake that Zoya had baked yesterday. Tanu and Dilshad had gone off to their rooms pleading tiredness. While Ayaan horsed around with Najma and Zoya in the kitchen, Omar cornered Asad.
"So, Mr. Khan, I'm glad to see better sense has prevailed after all?"
Asad tilted his head to the side in confusion.
Omar sighed. What did Zo see in this bugger?
"Looks like you both have scratched whatever itch it was that needed scratching, and finally worked things out. I'm happy for Zo, but it will still take me some time to forgive you being a total jerk to her. Do that again, and you'll have her Jeeju to answer to first. And Aapi and Jeeju have me on speed dial."
Asad smiled and held his hand out. Omar shook it and then handed him the keys to his bike.
"Go on, I know you're dying to. I'll send her out with some excuse. This will give me some time to get to know Najma better," and he looked directly at Asad, daring him to say no.
"You know, Omar, you're not half as bad as I first thought," Asad said good-humoredly, palming the keys.
"And thank you, for everything."
Omar laughed. "Sure, no problem, and I'm extending my stay by the way, so you'll be be seeing a lot more of me."
Asad walked away shaking his head. But Omar wasn't a threat anymore. Though he'd have to watch him around Najma.
Two minutes later Zoya came running out and they zoomed off into the night. Her hands gripped his chest tightly, the side of her face pressed into his back and her thighs cupped his intimately. He took one of her hands and laced his fingers through hers. As they stopped at a red light, he flipped the visor open and pressed her hand to his lips. She slid even closer and he could feel raw heat radiating from her on his butt. His blood rushed and he throbbed in sync with the bike.
As they thundered off again he held her hand over his heart. She couldn't tell whose heart she could hear beating but that, and the bike were making her horny as hell. She wanted to run her hands over those abs and dip even lower. Unconsciously, she started to grind against him. He took one of his hands off the handle bar and stroked the inside of her thigh.
The bike stopped. Zoya raised her head groggily to peer around her. They were back home. She sighed regretfully. She got off and was suddenly lifted to be placed in front of him. He slid back to make room for her and started to slowly and sensuously stroke the tops of her thighs.
"Your turn," he murmured in her ear before putting the helmet on for her and gently buckling it and securing the strap under her chin. He let his fingers feather on her neck.
She twisted around and spoke through the raised visor. "Mr. Khan, I won't be able to do it."
"Why?" his hands were already on her waist, kneading her hips and he was pressing his erection against her butt. She wiggled her butt making him groan.
"That's why. What if we have an accident?"
"No we won't." Wrapping his arms around her waist, he bit down on her shoulder and purred in her ear, "c'mon Ms. Farooqui, take me for a ride."
And this time it was her turn to be in control while losing complete control. He would ocassionally have to steady the handle whenever she swerved too much while in the throes of passion.
It had begun to drizzle softly and a smoky haze rose from the darkened streets.
In a nearly deserted alley, she stopped abruptly and twisted around to face him and sit astride his thighs almost in his lap. She took off the helmet not caring whether it stayed on the handle bar or fell. She hugged him and growled fiercely, "Mr. Khan, you've been driving me crazy all day. I need you."
Asad's heart leaped. She was such a tiger!
"Zoya, we are in the middle of the street!"
"I don't care. Just kiss me please, Asaadd!"
The way she slurred his name completely undid him. He swooped to kiss her pressing her back onto the bike and cradling her head on the handle bar. He ravished her mouth with his teeth, tongue and lips. Kissing the dew off her face and neck he let his hands cup her bre*sts and flicked their erect peaks with his thumbs.
Placing her hands beside her head, she gripped the handle bar for leverage and raised her hips. Her legs gripped his waist as she writhed against him seeking release.
"Zoya," he groaned breathlessly, his hips hitching in primal response, "ride me, baby."
Throwing her head back with a guttural cry, she came.
Sing in Title:
Ghar (1978): "Bahon Main Tere"
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