The windows were open, and the dense Hyderabad humidity seeped in through the pale curtains, brushing against Shalini's bare thigh as she sat at the edge of the bed, her fingers trembling around the rim of her glass. Her blouse clung to her skin, soaked through at the shoulder blades, and her navel shimmered faintly under the flicker of the fanlight above.
Arjun stood behind her, shirtless, still damp from the shower, the faint scent of Liril soap lingering on his collarbone. He didn't say a word. He didn't have to. His breath ghosted along the nape of her neck as his fingers crept under her pallu, bold and slow, dragging the silk like it was sin.
"I can't take it slow today…" he whispered. His voice was deeper, rougher, throat dry with the restraint of the past few days.
Shalini didn't answer. She turned instead, facing him with the full weight of her hunger, eyes dilated like a woman who had waited too long to be devoured. Her hands gripped his jaw, pulling him to her, lips crashing, tongues colliding — and from her throat, came the first soft, dangerous moan — "Mmmhh…haa… Arjun…"
It was as if her body had been stitched together by longing, and his fingers were now unraveling it, one forbidden thread at a time.
Her saree fell, inch by inch, like petals surrendering to fire.
"Ni chethulu chusthe… naa moham aduguthondi…" she murmured, voice husky, begging his hands for more. (Your hands… they make my face crave.)
He pushed her down onto the mattress with a suddenness that made her gasp — "Aaahh…!" — and then whimper, "Thaggakunda teesuko…" (Take me without holding back…)
And he did.
His mouth trailed down the line between her breasts, kissing every breathless inch, biting softly where her skin shivered, "Shalini… you taste like you've been waiting for this your whole damn life…"
Her legs coiled around his waist instinctively, hips rolling up in rhythm to his kisses, her fingers lost in his hair as she cried out, "Ahhh… Arjun… ohh... cheppu ledu… nuvvu endhuku ila chesthunav…" (No words… why are you doing this to me…)
He didn't answer. His mouth was already between her thighs.
Her body arched, a strangled cry tearing from her chest, "Aaaahhh…chudava ra… nuvvu na lo chesedi enti… enti idi…" (Ahhh… look what you're doing inside me… what is this...) Her moans broke through in waves, urgent, wet, needy — they weren't noises anymore; they were testimonies of collapse.
Arjun pulled her hips into his mouth with both hands, eating her like he hadn't tasted anything real in weeks, like her body was the only language he understood now. Her moans turned to gasps, gasps to cries, cries to broken cuss-laced Telugu eruptions — "Yevvaru ra… nuvvu yevvaru… naa aatalanni kalupukuntunnav…"
He came up for air only to crash into her again, skin against skin, wet, glistening, the mattress creaking with a sound that matched the rawness of her panting.
She pulled at his jeans, desperate, clumsy, until his cock throbbed against her stomach — hot, swollen, heavy — "Chaava ra neeku… idi enti…"
"Shut up," he growled, breath hot against her collarbone, before plunging inside her in one brutal stroke.
"OHHHhhh… aaahh… ninnu vadulukonu…"
His rhythm was brutal, desperate — no slow build-up, just fevered thrusts that pushed her into the headboard again and again until her cries became desperate, raw, filthy.
"Aaahhh… aaahh… chethilo pattuko, pattuko ra…"
Her body gripped him so tightly, it felt like she'd been carved for this moment. She screamed his name, over and over, her nails digging into his back, drawing blood — "Nuvvu… naa lo… naa lo theechesthunnav… fuck ra… aaahh…"
Time blurred. The world shrank to heat and friction, to sweat and the way her moans curved like poetry between his teeth. Her voice cracked as she came — "Ayyoo naa devuda… ahhh… cheyadam apaku ra… please…"
And he didn't. He kept going.
Their bodies were soaked, trembling, feverish. The smell of sex clung to the air like smoke in a burnt temple. He came with a growl into her throat, their mouths locked, bodies welded, her thighs trembling around his hips.
They collapsed.
No words.
Only breath.
Only that terrible, beautiful silence that follows sin.