"I sleep so that we can meet."
~ Mr. Den
SIDYA's POV
I put the seatbelt on as I brace my heart for the unknown. The side of his hand slightly grazes mine in the process. I can feel the burn of his touch. He immediately moves his hand away as he murmurs an apology, acting like the gentleman he pretends to be.
He twists the key and turns on the ignition . The mechanical roaring of the engine revving fills the empty air around us, that has been suffocating me. My heart pounds harder in my chest and my brain works at a speed faster than the sonic rays.
This is not going to be easy.
We are in a closed car, with no room for me to escape. His cologne is what fills the air around me and his larger than life presence cannot be ignored even if I tried. I have no idea how I am going to spend 2 hours in this man's presence without doing something stupid.
The car starts moving at a slow pace. The guards see us coming and immediately run to open the door. They look at me with scepticism. Their eyes linger along Avinash's face. Considering how secretive I am, they are probably just confused seeing me sit in the passenger seat of a man they have never seen before.
I turn my head towards him to check if he is as uncomfortable as I am. But he sits there without a single sign of discomfort.
Something that bothers me more than him being this close, is my own body. Even as the cold air blows from the AC vents, I feel suffocated. It's like someone stuffed me in an airtight container to rot. My body burns and my insides tremble, not with fear, but anticipation.
For me, being around him is always a battle between my mind and my fucked up emotions. It's hardly even been 5 minutes sinces we left the house, but my head has turned towards him more times than I would like to admit. Just a peek. A peek of his perfect chiselled jaw. A peek of his lower jaw moving slightly as he swallows, or the way his Adam's apple bobs up and down.
It's a long ride, but what makes it even longer is the way my body thrums. I shift in my seat as I put some distance between us. It's not possible, I know, but at least I am trying.
The air that is supposed to help me breathe, is currently strangling me to death. I put my head on the window pane. The perspiration from my breath covers the tiny part of the window near my mouth with fog. I am startled when his hand grazes the side of my thighs as he changes the gear.
I almost jump..
Fuck.
It's harder than I thought.
He mumbles his mindless apology and goes back to driving effortlessly.
For a few sorry minutes, my eyes linger along the length of his folded sleeves, veiny and masculine hands. My heart squeezes when I watch him wrap his hand around the gear while changing it.
My mouth feels like the Sahara Desert, while my ears are filled with the sound of my own heart beating.
Closing my eyes, I try to focus my energy, it seems to be scattered all over the place.
I put my head back on the seat as I turn my legs away from him. Bringing all my attention to my breathing, I try to regulate my fluttering heart.
It's going to be over soon. I tell myself.
ʚ☆ɞ
A strong hand grabs the hold of my shoulder as the car seat is pushed back. I open my eyes, it takes me a few seconds to understand what is happening. The same strong hand moves across my abdomen as my seat is reclined backwards. I am no more sitting, I am lying on the seat now.
Avinash grabs a hold of my legs as he pulls them apart, making space for himself between my legs and then climbs on top of me.
His mouth falls on mine and my eyes roll backwards.
What the fuck is happening?
Just now he was driving. Just now we were sitting on separate seats.
How is he even on—
A seductive, trembling voice leaves my lips. A moan. My cheeks heat up with embarrassment.
I raise my hands to push him away, even though it's the last thing I want. The feeling of his warm mouth on mine, while his tongue plays with mine is all I want, all I can think of. But I am supposed to be mad at him.
Yes, mad.
He is a liar. He isn't the man he pretends to be and I hate him. But I don't push him away, rather I grab a hold of his shirt as I pull him towards me. Our bodies are pressed tightly against each other, leaving no space for air to escape. My boobs are crushed underneath his heavy, strong chest as his hard, masculine hands move towards them.
His long fingers, with neatly manicured nails wrap around my breast as he squeezes them lightly, very lightly. The frenzy from the kiss and his touch sends me spiralling down the 'I hate him' mountain.
What?
Maybe I can still hate him while I enjoy the kiss.
My back arches upwards as I grind my pelvis against his'. I can feel his hardness poking me. It should disgust me, make me want to push him away, but it's doing exactly the opposite. I can't seem to find the will to stop him, stop myself.
It's too good and it's happening right now. The long term consequences can go to hell. Life is too short anyways. He is here, I am here, we are here.
I will face the guilt when it comes, but right now all I want is the pleasure of being pressed against him.
I start unbottoning his shirt, but fail miserably. My long nails make it harder for me. Frustrated from the sexual tension building inside me, I grab the collar of his shirt as I pull him inwards and furiously start grinding against him. Release, I need release. I can feel it, but it seems too far away.
I moan, and pant, "Please." I have definitely lost my mind. I can't be begging this man. He is filthy, he is bad. You hate him. You hate him. You hate him.
I continue chanting the sentence as it is the holy name and will bring me salvation, but it's not the truth. He is my damnation. He subjected me to hell the day he betrayed, the day I found his truth.
But I seem to love hell.
As long as I can feel the warmth of his strong body pressed against mine, while his weight crushes me, morals and common sense can go to heaven. I am happy in my little hell, which is definitely not little, now that I can feel it against me.
But something happens.
All of a sudden the feeling of warmth is snatched away from me, as I lose myself to the free-fall. My eyes snap open as left side of my body rub against the concrete. I look around myself.
No!
No!
No!
My body breaks into cold sweat as reality dawns upon me.
I was dreaming.
Fucking dreaming of him.
I close my eyes as I try to drink the shame. It's a fucking nightmare.
I slowly open them. My cheeks burn with embarrassment as my eyes start hurting. I have made a fool out of myself. I raise my head to find out how I ended up on the floor.
That's when I meet his eyes. He is staring down at me, his jaws clenched.
This asshole.
"What the fuck did you do?" I scream in his face.
I was sitting in the car just a few minutes ago, and now here I am on the ground, while he looks down on me as if I am some sort of pest he can't wait to crush with his foot.
"Just woke you up," he says with a stupid smirk on his face. I want to rip it right off his lips, but I can't exactly do that while I am lying on the road like an alcoholic, who drank too much and became oblivious to her surroundings.
"Could have at least tried to act like the gentleman you pretend to be, asshole. You could have just called my name and I would have woken up."
"And risk you acting like a bitch? No, thanks."
He turns around, completely ignoring the fact that I am still on the road.
"Also," he stops a few steps away, "I did hold the door open for you, like a gentleman."
He says the last three words with a sardonic grin. And that pulls the strings for me.
That's how I fell down. I was sleeping against the door and he opened it.
"A gentleman wouldn't walk away unaffected while a woman lies on the ground with one side of her body scratched by the concrete and that too because of his fucking mistake."
I see his shoulders expand and stretch underneath his shirt. He turns around, puts one of his hand in the pocket and narrows his gaze on me.
"Stop acting like a damsel in distress, while in reality you are the damsel who caused the distress. Get your shit together, we have some real work to do here."
He shakes his head at me, turns around and walks away.
I can't believe I expected him to act differently. He is an asshole.
I push myself off the ground, dust my clothes off.
My head hurts from waking up so abruptly, and my core seems to have a pulse of its own. I am embarrassed, furious and angry. My body trembles with blind rage.
I close my eyes and recall something my father has always taught me.
"You can't conquer the world while your blood burns with evil. You need to be calm, straight headed and logical. Never let your emotions defeat you. Use them to your power."
I breathe through my mouth.
Calm down. I tell myself.
Then I straighten myself, tip my chin up and stride forward. It doesn't take me long to catch him. I ignore his existence as I take the charge of the situation.
ʚ☆ɞ
It wasn't long after we started driving that she fell asleep. At first I stole a few glances at her face. Her hair were tightly tied behind and there was nothing disturbing my view of her face.
She wasn't that bad when she wasn't talking. It's her fucking mouth that makes her a bitch. Had I not interacted with her, I might have been fooled by her feminine features and beautiful face.
But I knew what lay beneath the shining surface. After all, all that glitters is not gold.
It was all okay. She wasn't talking or accusing me of some random shit and we weren't arguing. I preferred her this way. Mouth shut, eyes close, completely on my mercy.
But then, she started mumbling her sleep. Not mumbling, moaning. With every moan that escaped her lips I felt my grip tightening on the wheel. Adrenaline pumped hard in my blood. My body thrummed with need as I felt something I don't generally feel.
It's been four years since she died and no woman has been able to wake this hurricane of hormones inside me.
It was just lust, I knew it. Even a saint would be affected if he heard a woman moan. But it wasn't the moans that bothered me, but her. She was completely oblivious to me, doing God knows what in her dreams, and then there was me, being tortured by her sexual voices. It made me feel hollow. Maybe because I am still holding onto the promise I once made to Amirah.
I thought about waking her up, but then I saw her peaceful face. She was anxious earlier. No matter how hard she tried to conceal her emotions, I could sense them somehow. She kept shaking her leg, playing with her fingers subconsciously. And then in the car, her body was rigid. I felt her tremble when my hand slightly grazed her hody.
So seeing her look so peaceful told me I should not wake her up. So, I let here sleep.
We were about to reach when she begged. She fucking said please. A word I believed didn't exist in her vocabulary. I felt my insides burn. For some fucked up reason, the idea of her begging to someone in her dreams made me angry. So instead of waking her up as I had originally planned, I slowly moved my arm across her abdomen and unbuckled her seat belt. She didn't wake up, her face still rested against the window.
I caught the look on her face. She looked frustrated, in pain as she continued to moan. The sight of her face looked so vulnerable and humane that it stirred something inside me, something that I didn't like. I have never felt something so strong and raw before. And it made me mad.
So, I got out of the car and opened the door to her side. I knew she was leaning on it. She fell to the ground with a thump and for a second guilt overpowered me. I shouldn't have done it. But then she opened her mouth and just like that — whoosh — the guilt vanished into the air.
If she hates me enough to not even give me a chance to get to know me, then she should have made sure not to fall asleep next to me. And definitely not have a wet dream.
Her sounds were sensual, bold, sexual and they made me uncomfortable. I am a human with hormones after all. All of it was okay, but then she said the word please in her sleep, sounding so helpless, at someone's mercy.
We were here to clear up the mess she created, and there she was fucking dreaming about her boyfriend. I pray for his soul though. The guy is definitely in for real trouble, but no amount of pity will make me sit and hear a woman I barely know moan and orgasm in her dream.
So, I walked away from her, without even helping her up. I should have, but I didn't. It's her presence, it drives me crazy.
───※ ·❆· ※───
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