Mature content ahead. If you are uncomfortable reading, please skip the chapter altogether. Below 18, please try hard to stay away🤪

Third person's pov!

He lifted his head to gaze down at her. The chocolate in his eyes had fully melted, his expression one of wonder.

"I need to get some protection," he said, sounding pained.

She didn't want him to leave her. She wanted him to stay right there, to keep her body covered with the heat of his own.

He didn't go far, simply rolling off her to reach into his bedside table.

Before he could rip the square foil open, she placed her hand on his chest. Aryamann's heart thudded as wildly as her own.

Closing her eyes, she twisted onto her side and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. And another. And another, breathing in his musky scent, rubbing her nose against the smoothness of his olive skin.

With trembling fingers she explored him, the hard chest with the soft black hair, the brown nipples that she rubbed a thumb over and heard him catch a breath at, the washboard stomach covered with a fine layer of that same black hair that thickened the lower she went, becoming more wiry...

She hesitated, raising her head from his shoulder to stare at him. How she longed to touch him properly, but there was a painful awareness that she didn't know what she was doing. How could she know what he liked, how he wanted to be touched? It wasn't that she had minimal experience-she had no experience. Nothing.

"You can do whatever you want," he whispered hoarsely, raking his hands through her hair and pressing a kiss to her lips.

"Touch me however you like. I am all yours."

Could he read her mind?

Tentatively, she circled her hand around his length, feeling it pulsate beneath her touch.

Aryamann groaned and laid back, hooking one arm over his head while the other lay buried in her hair, his fingers massaging her scalp.

His erection felt a lot smoother than she'd expected, and as she moved her hand up to the tip, a drop of fluid rubbed in her fingers.

A rush of moist heat flooded between her legs, a sharp pulsation, the same ache she had experienced when Aryamann had set her body alight with his mouth.

To witness his desire for her was as great an aphrodisiac as anything she had experienced since being in his room.

So quickly she didn't even notice him move, he covered her hand with his.

"No more," he growled. "I want to be inside you."

She couldn't resist wrapping an arm around his neck and kissing him, pressing herself against him as tightly as she could.

Hooking an arm around her waist, Aryamann twisted her back down, sliding a knee between her legs to part them.

With expert deftness, he ripped the foil open with his teeth and rolled it on before manoeuvring himself so he was fully on top of her and between her parted thighs, his erection heavy against her.

He pressed his lips to hers and kissed her, his left hand burying back into her hair, his right sliding down her side and slipping between them.

She felt him guide the tip of his erection against her and then into her, and sucked in a breath.

Aryamann simply deepened the kiss, murmuring words of endearment into her mouth.

He brought his hand back up to stroke her face and thrust forward a little more, still kissing her, stroking her, nibbling at the sensitive skin of her neck, slowly, slowly inching his way inside her.

There was one moment of real discomfort that made her freeze, but then it was gone, her senses too full of Aryamann and all the magical things he was doing to dwell on that one thing.

And then he was there, all the way inside her, stretching her, filling her massively, his groin pressed against her pubis, his chest crushing against her breasts.

"Am I hurting you?" He asked raggedly.

"No. It feels good." It felt more than good- it felt heavenly.

"You feel so good," he groaned into her ear, withdrawing a little only to inch forward again.

His movements were slow but assured, allowing her to adjust to all these new feelings and sensations, building the tempo at an unhurried pace, only pulling back a few inches, keeping his groin pressed against her.

The sensations he had created with his tongue began to bubble within her again but this time felt fuller, deeper, more condensed.

Her arms wrapped around his neck, her breaths shallow, she began to move with him, meeting his thrusts, which steadily lengthened.

And all the while he kissed her, his hands roaming over the sides of her body, her face, her neck, her hair... everywhere.

She felt the tension increase within him, his groans deepening- such an erotic sound, confirmation that everything she was experiencing was shared, that it was real and not just a beautiful dream.

The bubbling deep in her core thickened and swelled, triggering a mass of pulsations to ripple through her.

Crying out, she clung to him, burying her face in his neck at the same moment Aryamann gave his own cry and made one final thrust that seemed to last forever.

Aryamann breathed hard into the crook of her neck.

He could feel her heavy breathing every time her breath touched his ears, everytime her breasts brushed against his chest

Aryamann pulled away from her and dropped a tender kiss on her temple before walking into the washroom to dispose off the condom.

When he came back to the bed, Bhumi was curled into a ball and fast asleep and without another word he got into the bed.

He longed to make love to her again. But he'd put his selfish desires to one side. She'd had a long flight journey, little sleep the night before, and her body was bound to ache after making love for the first time.

So he pulled her to him and listened to her even breathing. It was the sweetest sound he'd ever heard.

He rubbed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, expelling a long breath.

If someone had told him just twenty-four hours ago that making love to Bhumi Basu would be the best experience of his life, he would have laughed. And not with any humour.

To know he was the first man to have slept with her made his chest fill. To know that he'd awoken those responses... It had been a revelation, a thing of beauty.

Aryamann had never felt humble about anything in his life, yet it was the closest he could come to explaining the gratitude he felt towards her for choosing him.

Bhumi hadn't chosen him for his power or his wealth or his lifestyle— she'd chosen and trusted him for him.

What if he hadn't found her? Eventually she would have found another man she trusted enough.

He couldn't even bear to think about it.

The thought of another man pawing at her and making clumsy love to her made his brain burn and his heart clench.

No!! She's mine!! Only mine!!!

His arms around her tightened and he wondered if this was why all the women he had been with before preached about cuddling.

Because it felt amazing!! Having Bhumi in his arms felt wonderful.

He felt happy..

He felt content...

And with that his eyes closed and he fell into deep sleep.

*******

A late breakfast was brought out to them on the bar-side veranda. Their glasses from the previous evening had already been cleared away.

Wrapped in the bathrobe, her hair damp from the shower she'd shared with Aryamann, Bhumi stretched her legs out and took a sip of the deliciously strong yet sweet coffee.

Sitting next to her, dressed in his own dark grey robe, his thigh resting against hers, Aryamann grinned.

"This view is so beautiful," she sighed.

With the morning sun rising above them, it was as if they were in their own private nirvana.

Today they'd been treated to South Indian - dosa, idly, chutney, sambhar and cut fruits to feed a whole army

Yes. Nirvana.

"Believe me, this is the best view I have had in a very long time" he said, his eyes gleaming as he looked at her, his deep voice laced with meaning.

Thinking of all the beautiful women she'd seen pictured on his arm, Bhumi found that extremely hard to believe.

Her belly twisted.

It was not good thinking of all those women.

He is not a one woman man!

This weekend is a time out of reality for her.

After this weekend she should move on with her life and Aryamann would move on to the next woman in his life once the contract is over.

Bhumi felt a twinge in her chest at that thought, she tried hard to ignore it

Aryamann was hers for this weekend and that's the only thing that matters. She didn't dare to hope for more.

"You do realise you are the most beautiful and sexiest woman on the planet, don't you?" Aryamann's words broke through the melancholy of her thoughts.

"Hardly," she spluttered, taking another sip of her coffee.

"I can prove it," he murmured sensually into her ear, clasping her hand and tugging it down to rest on his thigh. Sliding it up to his groin, he whispered,

"You see, my clever Bhumi, you are irresistible."

As he spoke, he nibbled into the nape of her neck, keeping a firm grip on her hand, moving it up so she could feel exactly what effect she was having on him.

A thrill of heady power rushed through her. Heat pooled between her legs, her breath deserting her.

They had already made love twice since she had awoken. She had thought she was spent, and had assumed Aryamann was, too.

With his free hand he tugged her robe open enough to slip a hand through and cup a breast, kneading it gently.

"You also have the most beautiful breasts," he murmured into her ear before sliding his lips over to her mouth and kissing her with a ferocity that reignited the remaining embers of her desire.

"What- what if one of the staff comes out?" She gasped, as he snaked his arm around her waist.

"They won't."

******

A late breakfast turned into a late lunch.

For the first time in his adult life he enjoyed a lazy day— indeed, the thought of working never crossed his mind.

In the back of his mind was the knowledge that at some point soon he would have to arrange for them to be taken back to Mumbai, but it was something he desisted from thinking about too much, content to make love, skinny-dip, then make love again.

And she seemed happy, too, her smile serene, radiant.

Kissing her for what could easily be the thousandth time, he tied his robe around his waist and headed back indoors and to his bedroom for more condoms.

The box was almost empty. He shook his head in wonder. He had never known desire like it.

But then was it simply desire?

A/N

Please do vote and comment...

Love,

SF❤️