“I’m going to suck your fucking cock until you can’t think straight, Harshad.” Shivangi whispered.

The words, low and husky, hung in the air of Harshad quiet Mumbai flat, a stark contrast to the muffled evening traffic fifteen floors below. Shivangi didn’t wait for an answer. Her hands were already on his belt, the cold buckle yielding to her determined fingers.

Harshad let out a sharp, surprised breath, a grin spreading across his face. “Oh yeah? And what’s brought this on?”

“Just shut up and enjoy it,” she murmured, her eyes locked on his as she finally freed the leather from the loops.

The metallic zip of his fly was obscenely loud. She pushed his trousers and boxers down in one rough, eager motion, his thick cock springing free, already half-hard and twitching against his stomach. Her dark eyes widened. “Fuck, Harshad. It gets bigger every time I see it.”

Harshad chuckled, a deep, raspy sound that vibrated through her, sending a shiver down her spine. His confidence was intoxicating, and it only made her want him more. “Maybe you just forget how fucking big it is between visits,” he teased, his voice dripping with that irresistible mix of charm and arrogance.

Shivangi rolled her eyes playfully, but her hands betrayed her eagerness as they wrapped around his thick shaft, feeling the heat and weight of it in her palm. “Trust me, Harshad,” she said, her voice low and sultry, “I don’t forget. I dream about this cock when I’m not here. I think about it when I’m on set, when I’m lying in bed at night. It’s all I can fucking think about sometimes.”

His grin widened, and he leaned back slightly, letting her take control. “Yeah? You fantasize about sucking my dick, Shivangi? About how it feels in your mouth, stretching those pretty lips of yours?”

Her breath hitched at his words, her own desire rising like a tide. Fuck, he knew how to get to her. She nodded, her fingers tightening around him as she began to stroke him slowly, deliberately. “Every damn day,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I imagine your hands in my hair, your cock filling my throat until I can’t breathe. I want to make you come so hard you forget your own name.”

Harshad let out a low groan, his hips bucking slightly into her hand. “You’re killing me, Shivangi,” he muttered, his voice thick with lust. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

She smirked, her fingers tightening around his shaft as she gave him a slow, deliberate stroke. “I think I have a pretty good idea,” she purred, her dark eyes locked on his. “Your cock is throbbing in my hand. Your body is trembling under my touch. I can feel how much you want me.”

His breath hitched as she leaned in, her lips brushing against the sensitive tip of his cock. The gentle touch sent a shiver through him, and he gripped the edge of the couch for support. “You’re a fucking tease,” he growled, though there was no anger in his voice—only pure, unadulterated desire.

Shivangi chuckled softly, her warm breath cascading over him. “Maybe,” she admitted, her tongue darting out to catch a bead of precum that had formed at the tip. The taste of him was intoxicating, and she moaned as she savored it. “But you love it, don’t you? You love how I make you lose control.”

“Fuck, yes,” he admitted, his voice raw and unfiltered. His hands tangled in her hair, not forcing but guiding her closer. “You make me feel things I haven’t felt in years, Shivangi. You make me feel alive.”

She looked up at him, her eyes gleaming with a mix of mischief and hunger. “Good,” she whispered before taking him into her mouth again, this time deeper, harder. Her lips stretched around his girth, and she hollowed her cheeks as she sucked, the pressure sending electric jolts through his body. Her hand worked the base of his shaft in perfect rhythm with her mouth, each movement calculated to bring him closer to the edge.

Harshad’s head fell back against the couch, a guttural groan escaping his lips. “God, your mouth is fucking magic,” he rasped, his hips thrusting gently into her throat. “I could get lost in this forever.”

Shivangi pulled back for a moment, her lips swollen and glistening, and met his gaze with a sultry smile. “Then let me take you there,” she said, her voice dripping with promise. “Let me make you forget everything but the way my mouth feels around your cock.”

Without waiting for a response, she took him in again, swallowing him whole, her throat muscles fluttering around him as she pushed him toward the brink of ecstasy.

Harshad could feel it building—the tension, the heat, the overwhelming need to release. His grip on her hair tightened, and his breathing became ragged, desperate. “Shivangi…” he warned, his voice strained. “I’m close… so fucking close.”

She hummed around him, the vibrations sending shockwaves through his body, and he knew he was done for. She was in complete control, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

That was the moment she decided to stop talking and start showing him exactly what she meant. Dropping to her knees, she took him into her mouth with a hunger that left no room for hesitation. The taste of him exploded on her tongue, and she moaned around him, the vibrations making him curse under his breath. She was lost in him, completely consumed by the need to make him feel as good as he made her feel. And from the way he was gripping the back of her head, she knew she was succeeding.

It had started a few weeks ago, innocently enough. A casual dinner after a grueling day on the set of Bade Achhe Lagte Hai. The kind of meal where they’d laugh over greasy pizza and share stories about their lives, their dreams, their heartbreaks. Harshad was easy to talk to—his calm demeanor and that low, raspy voice drawing her in like a moth to a flame. At first, it was just friendship. Comfort. A way to unwind after long hours of rehearsals and retakes. But then came another dinner. And another. Before she knew it, it became a habit, something she looked forward to every evening.

The fifteen-year age gap between the 27-year-old her and the 42-year-old harshad didn’t seem to matter. Not when they were sitting across from each other in some dimly lit restaurant, their on-screen chemistry spilling into something far more intimate off-screen. It wasn’t just his looks, though God knows he was handsome as hell. It was the way he listened to her, the way he made her feel seen in a way no one else had since Kushal shattered her trust. Harshad had this quiet confidence, this unspoken power that made her feel safe and desired all at once.

They were both single, both carrying the weight of past relationships that hadn’t ended well. His other flat, a sleek, minimalist space tucked away in a quiet part of Mumbai, became their sanctuary. It was far from both their family homes, a place where they could escape the prying eyes of the world. When they were there, it felt like the rest of the city didn’t exist. It was just the two of them, their bodies and their desires colliding in ways that left her breathless.

She’d told herself it was just a fling. A no-strings-attached arrangement to help her heal from the soul-crushing blow of Kushal’s betrayal. After everything she’d been through, she’d sworn never to date a co-actor again. That rule had been etched in stone, a boundary she wouldn’t cross. But Harshad… Harshad was different. He wasn’t just another co-star or another fling. He was everything she’d told herself she didn’t need but couldn’t stop craving. He was a fucking temptation she couldn’t—and didn’t want to—resist.

Every touch, every glance, every stolen moment in that flat chipped away at her resolve. Shivangi tried to convince herself it was just physical, that she could walk away whenever she wanted. But the truth was, she didn’t want to walk away. Not when harshad hands felt so good on her skin. Not when his voice sent shivers down her spine. Not when the way he looked at her made her feel like she was the only woman in the world.

Deep down, she knew this was dangerous. She knew she was playing with fire, risking her heart in a way she hadn’t in years. But for the first time in a long time, she felt alive. And that was worth every risk.

Tonight, she’d decided, was about his pleasure. All of it.

Shivangi dropped to her knees on the plush rug, the position feeling both submissive and powerfully in control. She looked up at harshad, at the mix of surprise and raw hunger on his handsome face. “I want to taste you. All of you.”