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18+

"Sometimes, it's not the walls we build around ourselves that keep others out-it's the fear that no one will care enough to break them down."

SANA'S eyes were closed, and a moan escaped her lips as she felt his hand on her core, touching her, playing with her folds.

"You love it, don't you, baby girl?" Sidharth teased, moving his skillful fingers teasingly over her clit.

"Yes, Sir," she moaned. "I love it."

"Want me to be rough?" Sidharth asked, nibbling the soft skin of her perfect, peachy ass. "I love your ass," he confessed before leaving a harsh bite on it.

"Ah! Sir," she hissed and then moaned as he nibbled the spot to soothe the pain. "Go rough."

With her approval, Sidharth began to rub her folds vigorously, making her moan uncontrollably.

"Umm, yes."

"You're such a dirty girl, Sana," he mocked and struck her core. "And I like it."

"Ah! Sir," Sana cried out in pain, feeling the burning sensation as she clutched the bedsheet tightly.

But soon, her cries of pain turned into pleas of pleasure as he slid a finger inside her, moving it in and out slowly, deliberately, driving her crazy.

"Faster, please," she moaned, buckling her hips and silently asking for more.

He obliged, adding another finger but still maintaining a slow, deliberate rhythm. He loved teasing her, seeing her grow desperate for him, only to refuse her just enough to make her demand what she wanted.

"Harder, and faster," she demanded, her desperation evident.

A smile spread across his handsome face as he saw her so desperate yet assertive. He intended to fulfill her demand, but not so soon.

"Who will say please?" he growled, tossing her onto the bed and making her lie on her back.

"Please, Sir," she pleaded as he hovered over her.

"My girl wants more?" he asked, teasing her while playing with her folds.

Sana nodded breathlessly, too lost in the moment to notice that he had called her "his" girl. Even he didn't seem to realize it.

He didn't like her wordless answer. The next moment, he struck her core hard. She jumped, crying out in pain.

"Who does that?" she sobbed, clenching her legs.

"I do," he replied smugly. "You should answer me in words, baby girl." He then bit her cheek harshly.

"You're a monster," she cried in pain, rubbing her cheek.

"You haven't seen what this monster can do to you," he murmured, sucking on the spot he'd bitten before adding two more fingers inside her.

He began to thrust his entire hand, fucking her mercilessly.

"What the fuck!" Sana gasped in shock. She had never experienced anything like this before.

Sidharth ignored her outburst and continued fucking her with his hand silently. Her shock soon melted away, replaced by the waves of pleasure coursing through her. In between, he sucked and bit her tits-hard.

Sana was a moaning mess. "Umhm, yes, fuck."

Her filthy moans only encouraged him to go rougher on her. It didn't take long before she came around his hand, her body trembling with release.

Without wasting a second, Sidharth quickly removed his hand, wiped it on the bedsheet, and hastily put on a condom. Then, he shoved his cock deep inside her. It slid in smoothly as she was already wet from her cum.

"I'm going to rip this pussy apart one day," he growled, loving the feeling of being buried inside her again.

"Umhm, yes," she moaned shamelessly, her voice dripping with lust. "Do it,"

Sidharth smirked. "You're a freak, baby girl," he teased. "And, I like it."

Sana bit her lip, feeling shy under his gaze.

"Fuck! You're still so tight," he groaned, relishing her tightness. Even after working on her for an hour, she felt as tight as ever. "Fuck, baby girl."

"Yes, fuck me," she boldly demanded.

Something snapped in him, and he began pounding into her hard and fast. His patience evaporated, leaving only raw desire-something he had never felt so intensely before.

"Fuck! You're so dirty, Sana."

"Yes, I am," she admitted, her moans louder than ever.

"Damn you, girl," he growled, his pace quickening.

"What got into you?" he asked between thrusts.

"You," she smirked, meeting his gaze.

He chuckled at her boldness and lost himself completely, fucking her hard and senselessly until they both found their release.

"Fuck! You were different today," he said, getting off the bed. He loved seeing this bold side of her today.

"You put your whole hand inside me!" Sana exclaimed, almost complaining as she tried to catch her breath.

"But you took it quite well, I'd say," he replied with a wink before heading to the bathroom, leaving a blushing Sana behind.

"He'll be the death of me," she murmured with a shy smile and lay back on the bed, covering herself with the duvet.

Sidharth returned five minutes later with a wet cloth. Coming to her side, he began gently cleaning her.

Sana couldn't help but smile, admiring him quietly. But then, something caught her attention, and her smile faltered.

"Can I ask you a question?" Sana asked hesitantly.

"Sure," he replied curtly, focusing on cleaning her.

"Why don't you remove your top when we're... together?" Sana asked, pointing at his dark navy-blue full-sleeve T-shirt.

Over the past two months, she had noticed he never took off his shirt. She had never seen him topless or fully naked-not even once. On top of that, he always wore long sleeves. Never short ones.

Why?

That was the question gnawing at her.

"I want to see you, Sidharth," she added softly.

"I think you've seen enough of me," he answered curtly, avoiding her gaze.

Sometimes, his behavior made her feel like a whore. His whore.

The way they went through the motions-it reminded her of those women who visited clients' houses, undressed, satisfied their clients, and left.

But BDSM relationships weren't entirely like that.

In these relationships, the main focus was dominance, submission, and fulfilling kinks. Yet, beyond the physical aspect, there was often a deep emotional connection. For some, it became a source of healing-emotional and mental traumas were addressed, and partners gained discipline and comfort from each other. They talked, kissed, hugged, cuddled after sex, and even spent time together without sex being involved.

Sidharth, however, only did part of that. He took care of her afterward, kissed her forehead tenderly, fed her, and dropped her home.

She respected his need for privacy while eating alone, but what about communication? Even after she'd asked him to make small talk with her while she ate, he never did. For a week he did talk a little but then back to square. He would sit next to her, scrolling through his phone or chatting with his so-called friends.

Sometimes, she wondered if he was even talking to them or just pretending to avoid talking to her.

These small things hurt her-a lot. After all, her poor heart had started to beat for him. She craved his attention, his love.

She had ignored it for over two and a half months, but not anymore. She needed answers.

"That's not an answer; that's just an excuse. If anyone has seen 'enough' between us, it's you-not me," she said firmly. "I'm the one sitting here naked. Fully naked. Not you."

Sidharth sat silently, unsure of what to say. How could he explain it to her without exposing his vulnerability? He didn't want to be judged.

Not yet. Not ever.

"Sana-"

"No," she interrupted sharply, catching him off guard.

"Sana, lower your voice. You're crossing a line," he warned, but his voice lacked its usual authority. Deep down, he knew she was right, and he was wrong. But he couldn't let her win-not this time.

"I don't think so," she replied firmly. "Sidharth, we've been together for over two months now. Eighty-fucking-days."

"You're counting days?" Sidharth was shocked.

"That doesn't matter," she sounded embarrassed. "Sidharth, I still haven't seen you shirtless-not even once. Sometimes, you don't even let me touch or hold you. It hurts. It makes me feel like a fucking whore. Like I'm only here to satisfy you."

"That's not true," he snapped. "You're thinking wrong Sana."

"Really? Sidharth, we don't even talk after we're done. Don't you think that's unfair to me? At least talk to me like a normal person," she said softly, keeping her voice low to avoid crying in front of him.

She couldn't bear to cry in front of someone who claimed not to care for her.

Sidharth remained silent, too conflicted to respond. Instead, he leaned closer and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead-a silent attempt to reassure her that she was wrong.

"Apart from that," she admitted, sighing.

"For me, you're not a whore, Sana," he said quietly. "You're more than that," he added, avoiding eye contact as he threw the cloth he'd used to clean her onto the floor.

"What am I to you, then? If not a whore-a friend?" she asked.

"We can be anything but friends," he replied simply.

"Fuck buddies?" she taunted.

"Sana, please. Don't start right now," he said, irritation creeping into his voice.

"Okay," she replied, catching him off guard with how quickly she dropped the subject.

But he quickly realized what she was up to. As she raised her hand to touch his chest, he instinctively moved back, inadvertently hurting her in the process.

"See? You won't even let me touch you. And you're saying I'm not a whore? Then why are you making me feel like one?" she asked, her voice trembling with hurt.

"You're not a fucking whore, Sana. You're not a whore," he murmured, guilt seeping into his tone as he looked down at his lap.

"Why am I like this, God?" he thought bitterly.

He didn't know how to explain it to her. He had never removed his shirt because of the scars and faded wounds on his body-marks he'd inflicted on himself in the past to punish his own weakness.

He had cut his chest and stomach to atone for falling prey to that monster and had even tried to end his life by cutting his wrists-multiple times.

If Sana saw those marks, she would judge him. Worse, she would question him about his past-a past he wasn't ready to confront again.

His past was nothing but pain, betrayal, and trauma. It was a living hell he desperately wanted to leave behind. But the nightmares and bitter memories kept haunting him. To avoid the nightmares, he stayed up all night, getting just three or four hours of sleep after sunrise. Sometimes, he drank himself into oblivion just to pass out.

"Sidharth?" Sana called softly, disappointment etched across her face.

"Why can't he understand I'm not his enemy? I would never hurt him. Never," she thought as silent tears rolled down her cheeks.

"I don't know what to say to make you feel better. But trust me, babe, you're not a whore," he said helplessly. "I swear on my God," he added, hoping she would believe him.

Sana sat up and reached for his hand but hesitated. "Can I hold your hand?"

Sidharth immediately held her hands firmly. "You can hold me, Sana," he whispered softly.

"Really?" she asked.

He nodded silently.

"Anywhere?" she added.

He didn't respond, making her smile sadly. "So, I can't."

"Sana, drop this topic," he said, trying to sound firm but failing. Giving up, he stood up and walked into the bathroom to clean his hands. It was his way of avoiding her questions.

Locking the door behind him, Sidharth removed his T-shirt and stood in front of the mirror. His eyes fell on his scarred body, covered in faded cuts and wounds.

"Why can't she understand? I can't just do that," he muttered to himself. "I can't."

A thought comes to his mind, "Did I make a mistake getting into this contract with her?"

On the other hand, Sana could sense that Sidharth was hiding something from her. Otherwise, why would he never remove his top during their intimate moments? Why would he always wear clothes that completely covered his body? Even during basketball practice, he wore a full-sleeve T-shirt under his jersey.

"What is he trying to hide?" she wondered, confused.

"Whatever it is, I need to find out. But for that, I need to gain his trust. I need to make him comfortable enough to open up to me. The only way to achieve that is through communication and giving him space. I can't force him to do something he's not ready for. He hates force. I need to be patient with him. But I also need to make him talk. If not about personal things at first, then just random topics." She made up her mind.

Sidharth emerged from the bathroom after half an hour, avoiding her gaze as he quickly put on his boxer briefs and pants.

"Come downstairs after getting dressed," he said. He was about to leave when Sana spoke up.

"Sidharth, I know something is bothering you-something that's stopping you from opening up to me. Trust me, I won't push your buttons or force you to do anything you're not comfortable with," she said gently but firmly.

Sidharth turned to look at her, shocked that she had understood he was hiding something-his wounds, his pain, his vulnerability, and his past.

"I won't force you to tell me your problems or secrets, or even to remove your top during sex. It's your choice, your comfort, your life, and your privacy. I'll respect that," she added sincerely.

"Thank you," he said softly, grateful she wasn't pressuring him.

Earlier, in the bathroom, he had contemplated ending their arrangement, but now, hearing her words, he was glad he hadn't brought it up.

"Sidharth, we're in this arrangement together. If I'm giving my 100%, I want at least 50% from you. Or at least 40%. If I can't touch your particular body parts or if you're not comfortable removing your top, that's fine with me. But at least talk to me. If not like friends, then like two strangers who are in this crazy arrangement. Please?" Sana requested sweetly, leaving him speechless.

Sidharth stared at her in shock. "You're not mad at me?"

The disbelief in his voice made him sound like a lost child, unsure how to react to her patience and understanding after his behavior.

No doubt he was a jerk.

Sana felt her heart ache for him.

"God knows what happened to him. What made him like this?" she wondered, looking at him with a soft gaze.

"I'm not mad at you, Sidharth. I'm just trying to help you understand that we should communicate. About normal things. To know each other better, to understand better." she said as she got up from the bed and walked to him. Gently, she held his hand.

She smiled as he didn't pull away. "Just because we're in a physical relationship doesn't mean we can't communicate like two adults." She raised his hand to her lips and kissed it softly.

Sidharth's body tensed slightly at the warmth of her gesture. It felt affectionate, something he wasn't used to.

"Are you uncomfortable?" she asked hesitantly.

For a moment, he felt like pushing her away, but he didn't-or couldn't. Instead, he found himself drawn to this unfamiliar tenderness.

"See, we are doing good." Sana smiled softly, and kissed the same spot again.

His subconscious mind screamed at him, "This is wrong. I can't seek love. I don't deserve love. I definitely don't deserve her. I'm a monster. I'll only hurt her. I'll only bring her pain."

Suddenly, he pulled his hand away.

Sana looked disappointed. "Sidharth-"

"We're in a no-strings-attached relationship, Sana," he reminded her curtly. "We shouldn't do it. Kissing is against the rule."

Sana suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. "I remember that," she replied, her tone matching his. "When I said 'relationship,' I didn't mean romance. I meant in a friendly way. Like me and Julia."

"I don't have friendly feelings for you," he stated.

"I know."

"Good."

"Well, see? We just talked like two adults, and now I don't feel like a whore anymore," she said with a small smile.

Sidharth let out a faint smile. "Get dressed and come downstairs." He turned to leave but paused when she held his hand again.

"What now?"

"I want you to sit with me while I eat. And talk," she requested softly.

By now, Sana understood she wouldn't get through to him by demanding things. She needed to be patient. She needed to handle him with care and love. This man was carrying some deep pain and wasn't ready to let go of it.

Sidharth hesitated, then thought, "If I can sit and talk with my friends while they eat, why not her?"

"Okay," he agreed.

"Thank you," she said, her smile widening as if she had won a battle.

And maybe it was a battle-a silent war between her patience and his walls.

In this battle, she wanted to win at any cost. Because if she lost, so would he-to his past.

"But, no personal question." He warned.

"Okay," she agreed, having no choice.

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