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Bhumi's pov

Coorg!

Officially known as Kodaku.

One of the most affluent hill stations in Karnataka. It is well known for its breathtakingly exotic scenery and lush greenery.

Well, that's what Wikipedia said, when I googled to know more about Coorg.

Mr Brahma had extended us an invitation to his birthplace Coorg and Aryamann had accepted it immediately.

That night, after reaching home, he asked me to pack whatever I want and go shopping for other necessary things, since we will be staying in Coorg for a week.

I was confused as to why we needed another honeymoon, but then I realised that it was a show for Mr Brahma's benefit.

Aryamann couldn't possibly deny such an incredible offer, when he is supposedly madly in love with me.

So here we are, at the private estate villa that belongs to the Brahma family.

It was a one and a half flight journey from Mumbai to Mangalore and another three and a half hour car ride to Coorg.

The car journey was silent too.

The sexual tension between us has escalated ever since that business party.

For the last six months, though the attraction was still high, Aryamann had tried to keep his distance from me.

But ever since the day before the party, when we kissed after six long months, everything changed.

The heated looks became even more intense.

The simple touches became even more searing.

Even now, sitting side by side, I could feel the heat radiating off him.

The villa was dark when we reached there, but as soon as the driver brought the car onto their front porch the lights were on.

With the stars in the moonless night sky twinkling, it was the prettiest sight I had ever seen.

"Would you like a drink?" Aryamann asked once we were alone inside.

The effects of the champagne I had in the flight had started to abate a little, but do I want to risk putting any more alcohol into my system? I don't have a huge tolerance for alcohol, after all I am a novice. And I am underage too.

"Non alcoholic," Aryamann added as though he read my thoughts.

"Sure," I said with a small smile.

I followed him through the sprawling reception and into the living room.

Aryamann was walking in as if he knew the villa in and out.

"Mr Brahma had mailed me the floor plan of his villa. So, I pretty much know everything about this villa now," Aryamann explained, seeing the confused look on my face.

Oh! That explains it.

He'd continued through the huge library, through the dining room, diverted round the indoor swimming pool, stepped through huge French doors and out onto a veranda overhanging the outdoor pool.

It was like stepping into a tropical-party area where the only thing missing was the guests.

A bar— a proper bar, with flashing lights, high stools, and everything— was set up at one end.

"I bet Mr Brahma has had some fantastic parties here when he was younger." I said.

Aryamann chuckled at that.

I spotted a long white board jutting through the trellis.

"Is that a diving board?"

He nodded.

"It's easier than walking down the steps to reach the swimming pool."

"He should get a slide— that would be much more fun." I said. He chuckled and slipped behind the bar.

"That's not a bad idea. I will make sure to let Mr Brahma know."

His eyes held mine, heat flashing from them before he reached for a bottle of juice and poured us both a drink. He handed it to me.

Our fingers brushed as I took the glass from him. That same flash of heat sparked in his eyes again.

"Cheers," he said, holding his glass forwards.

"Cheers," I echoed, chinking my glass to his.

*****

Third person's pov!

They had their drink in silence, but the room was throbbing with sexual tension.

"I want you, Bhumi." Aryamann said when I least expected it.

"What?" I asked in horror.

She know he was feeling that. She was feeling the same. But she didn't expect him to voice it out.

"This attraction is getting out of control, Bhumi. I want you. And I can see that you feel the same way, but you are in a double mind." Aryaman said.

"Aryamann.."

"I am going to my room. I will let you decide if you want to join me in it or if you wish to sleep alone."

"But..."

"I can see you are nervous, Bhumi. I want you to be sure. I meant what I said before — I will not take advantage of you. We have chemistry, Bhumi. It is up to us to decide what we do about it. I told you my decision. My room is two doors from yours. I leave the ball in your court." With that, he turned on his heel, and strode away.

After a long pause in which all the blood in her body flooded into her brain and roared around her ears, Bhumi expelled a long breath of air.

What had she expected? That Aryamann would take charge, sweep her into his arms, and carry her manfully all the way to his bedroom as if she weighed little more than a feather?

That he would lay her on his bed and devour her, taking command of every touch and movement?

Hadn't she known he was far too honourable for that?

If she wanted Aryamann to make love to her, she would have to go to him.

But could she do that? Could she slip into his room and slide under his bed covers?

Could she not?

No. She couldn't not do it.

She would never meet another man like him.

He is her one true love.

And after the contract is over, she will have to go away from him.

So, what is wrong in making what little time she has with him, as special as possible.

She needs this.

For all those coming years. She wants these memories to keep her company.

Aryamann stood under the shower for an age, fixing the temperature to a much lower setting.

If he kept it cold enough it might just do something to lessen his libido.

Yet, it was not just his libido that needed cooling.

His heart needed it too.

What's it that he is feeling?

Would she come to him?

He honestly could not guess.

She was not one of the worldly women he normally spent time with, for whom sex was something very casual.

Stepping out of the shower, he towelled himself dry, brushed his teeth, wound the towel around his lower half and walked through the doorway of the en suite bathroom into his bedroom....

While he had showered, Bhumi had crept into his room.

She stood before the window, her eyes widening as she took in his half nude form.

"You are here," he said, walking slowly towards her. She had showered too, her hair damp, her body wrapped in the thick white bathrobe kept in the guest room.

She raised a hand to a cheek, which, even in the dim light, he could see had flushed with colour.

He covered her hand with his own.

"You're beautiful."

She trembled, although whether that was down to the hoarseness of his voice or a reaction to his touch he could not say.

Slowly he trailed a hand down the swan of her neck to the V made by the bathrobe, slipping a finger between the bunched material to loosen it, exposing the cleavage of her creamy breasts.

Slower still, he slid down to the sash and, using both hands, untied it before pushing the robe apart, exposing her to him.

Bhumi's breaths became shallow. Her chest hitched. She stood as still as a statue, staring at him with a look that somehow managed to be both bold and shy.

He pushed the shoulders of the robe so it fell softly to the floor along with his towel.

His own breath hitched as he drank her in.

Her body was everything he had imagined and more, her breasts fuller and higher, her belly softly toned, her hips curvier, her legs longer and smoother.

He swallowed, the ache in his groin so deep it was painful.

Even more was the ache in his heart.

He forced himself to remember that she was a virgin. No matter how badly he wanted to go ahead and devour her, he needed to keep the reins on himself.

Bhumi had never felt so exposed- had never been so exposed- as she was at that moment. Her heart thundered, her blood surged, but none of it mattered.

The hunger in Aryamann's eyes was enough to evaporate the shyness and quell any last-minute fears, although, when she dared cast her eyes down to his jutting erection, she experienced a different, more primitive fear that was accompanied by a wild surge of heat through her loins.

Aryamann was truly glorious .

She swallowed hard, her eyes captured by the heat of hot chocolate fudge that gleamed.

She wanted to touch him. She wanted to take her fingers through the whorls of dark hair covering his chest, to feel his skin beneath her lips.

Except she was rooted to the spot on which she stood, helpless to do anything but receive his study of her naked form.

"We'll take it very slowly" he said, his words low and thick.

She couldn't speak, could only jerk a nod, aching for it to start, yearning for it to be over, a whole jumble of thoughts and emotions running through her. Out of the fear and excitement, though, it was the latter that rose to the top.

This was it....

And then she was clutched against Aryamann's hard torso as he swept her into his arms and carried her over to the enormous four-poster bed, her private fantasy coming to life.

Gently he laid her down on her back before lying beside her.

He placed a hand on her collarbone.

The heat from his mouth, the mintiness of his breath, the fresh oaky scent of him, sent her senses reeling.

His kiss was light but assured, a tender pressure that slowly deepened until her lips parted and his tongue swept into her mouth.

Finally she touched him, placing a hand on his shoulder, feeling the smoothness of his skin while she revelled in the headiness evoked by his increasingly hungry kisses.

He moved his mouth away, sweeping his lips over her cheek to nibble at her earlobe.

"Are you sure about this?"

"You have to ask?"

"Any time you want to stop, say."

She turned her head to capture his lips.

"I don't want to stop."

He groaned and muttered something she couldn't comprehend before kissing her with such passion her bones seemed to melt within her.

His large hand swept over her, flattening against her breasts, trailing over her belly, stroking her, moulding her. And then he followed it with his mouth. When his lips closed over a puckered nipple she gasped, her eyes flying open.

Always she had looked at breasts as functional assets, understanding in a basic fashion that men lusted after them. Never had it occurred to her that the pleasure a man took from them could be reciprocated by the woman- by her.

She reached for him, digging her fingers into his long locks of hair, silently begging him to carry on, almost crying out when he broke away, only to immediately turn his attention to the other.

It was the most wonderful feeling imaginable.

At some point he had rolled on top of her. She could feel his erection prod against her thigh and moaned as she imagined what it would feel like to actually have him inside her, being a part of her...

Oh, but she burned, a delicious heat that seeped into every inch of her being, every part alive and dancing in the flames.

It was as if Aryamann was determined to kiss and worship every tiny crevice, his mouth now trailing down over her belly whilst his hands...

Her gasp was loud when he moved a hand between her legs, gently stroking his fingers over her soft hair until he found her-

Dear God...

He knelt between her legs, his tongue there, pressed against her tight bud.

What was happening to her?

Never in her wildest imaginings had she dreamed that the very essence of her being could ache with such intensity. Nothing. Nothing could have prepared her.

Oh, but this was incredible- he was incredible...

Aryamann stayed exactly where he was, his tongue making tiny circular motions, increasing the pressure until, with a cry that seemed to come from a faraway land, ripples of pure pleasure exploded through her and carried her off to that faraway land in the stars.

Only when all the pulsations had abated did Aryamann move, trailing kisses all the way back up her body until he reached her mouth and kissed her with a savagery that stole her remaining breath.

A/N

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Love,

SF❤️