Chapter 5
It was as if a switch had been flipped.
The moment their lips touched, nothing else mattered. No guilt, no hesitation—nothing but the aching need that had built between them for years now, finally given voice. Gaurav's hands gripped her waist tightly, pulling her closer with a growl. His mouth slanted over hers, hungry and rough, like he'd dreamed a thousand times and just couldn't get close *enough.*
Bulbal met his passion with her own, her fingers clawing into his hair as her tongue slipped past his teeth, demanding and possessive in a way that made him dizzy.
They stumbled backward until Gaurav's legs hit the edge of the bed, falling back onto the mattress—still entwined, bodies pressed together like they'd never let go. His hands moved from her waist, skating up her ribs, under her shirt—finding every curve, every inch of skin as if he wanted to map her inside and out, memorize every dip, every freckle, the exact pattern of her pulse…
But he wanted *more*.
He broke the kiss just long enough to pull her shirt over her head, tossing it aside. His mouth moved to her neck, nipping at the sensitive skin where her shoulder met her throat, leaving marks that would be a visible claim tomorrow. And when he felt her gasp—felt her body arch towards him, wanting more—he knew he was far from the only one in this.
His hands slipped between them, pulling open her bra with practiced ease. He traced the edge of one cup, his touch so light it was barely there—a teasing brush of skin against silk that left her shuddering.
"Gods, I want you," he whispered—voice broken with need. "You drive me insane, you know that?"
She laughed softly—dark, sultry—and reached between them, slowly unzipping his jeans with one hand. "You're not the only one," she said, her voice thick with lust. "I think about you… all the time."
"What do you think about?" he growled, lifting himself up on one elbow so he could pull off his own shirt, tossing it somewhere behind him. "Be specific, baby."
Her gaze darkened, heat pooling low in her stomach at the sight of his bare chest—all lean muscle and smooth, honey-brown skin. She let her hands roam, fingernails scraping gently at the ridges of his ribs just to hear him gasp again.
"You," she finally answered, leaning down to press a kiss just above his heart. "Every detail, every movement. The way you walk… the way you move… the way you *smell.*"
She smirked, her fingers pausing just at the edge of his waistband. "I think about how big you are," she whispered, glancing down pointedly. "How you're always watching me with that hungry look… like you want to devour me whole."
His eyes darkened, pupils blown wide, his own hands gripping her thighs tightly. "Like a dog in heat," he said through clenched teeth—a self-deprecating edge to the words. "Always hungry. Always desperate."
"Mmmhm" she murmured, her voice low and sultry. "But you're not a dog, are you, baby?" She leaned back, sitting up on his lap again, her gaze holding him captive. "You're a good boy. My *good boy."*
"But..." she added, her fingers finally slipping beneath his jeans and boxers—just enough to curl around the hot, thick base of him—"I wonder... can you make *me* a good girl?"
His breath hitched, and he had to struggle not to buck into her touch. "You're already too damn good," he ground out, his hands still gripping her thighs like a lifeline. "Too good for me."
"Not when you're needy like this," she said, her fingers moving up and down in a slow, lazy rhythm. "When you want me this badly."
"Always want you," he managed. "Even when I shouldn't."
"But especially when you shouldn't," she purred, leaning in close to bite at his earlobe, her thighs tightening around him. "When you should still be my good boy, not this desperate."
"Can't help it," he groaned, his head falling back. "*Need* it—"
"Need me like air," she agreed, her lips moving to his jaw, along his chin, across his cheek.
"Need me like blood."
"Need you as badly as—"
He didn't get to finish that thought as her fingers tightened; a low, rough moan spilling from his lips. "Like I'm dying," he finished in a strangled whisper.
"Good." She smiled—slow and wicked. "Because I want to see you *die* for me."
And with that, she stood up—just enough to strip off the last of her clothes and slowly push his jeans down those strong, trembling legs.
Then… she climbed on top.
Hips lowering, inch by aching inch…
And the second he felt himself slide into her heat—tight, slick, pulsing around him like a dream—he couldn't hold back anymore.
"*Mom!*" he screamed as pleasure tore through every nerve in his body. "You're—you're too much!"
She laughed—a low moan caught between lips that found his ear again—
"I know," she whispered. "But you wanted this… didn't you?"
"Yes! Gods yes—I love it—I love *you!*"
"And now," she said slowly as her hips began to move—an electric roll that made him shudder beneath her—"you'll never let go."
Not even if sin kills them both.
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*End Chapter Five.*