A slow, wicked smile spread across karishma lips, her eyes dark pools of promise in the dim light. The weight of her body, still sprawled across his, was a warm, delicious anchor. Harshad could feel his own heart thudding against his ribs, a frantic rhythm slowly returning to a steady, heavy beat that synced with hers.

His skin was still buzzing, every nerve ending hyper-aware of where she touched him. The damp spot on his shirt from her sweat, the way her slick heat still clutched at him softly even as he began to soften inside her. Her whisper was a brand against his ear, a vow that sent a fresh, shocking jolt of desire straight to his core.

“I’m not done with you yet, Mr. Chopda” Karishma whispered.

Harshad could only manage a ragged breath, a low groan of acknowledgment. His hands, which had been gripping her hips, slid up to cradle the small of her back, holding her there. God, she was incredible.

Karishma shifted then, rising up on her knees, the movement making him gasp as he slipped out of her. A bead of their combined essence trailed down his thigh. The cool air of the room hit his wet skin, a startling contrast to the furnace of her body. She didn't go far, simply kneeling astride his hips, her gaze locked on his. Her chest rose and fell with her deep breaths, her full breasts swaying enticingly with each inhalation.

Her fingers, nimble and sure, traced the line of his jaw, down his throat, over the damp cotton of his shirt. She leaned down, her breasts brushing harshad chest, and captured his mouth in a deep, claiming kiss. It was all tongue and teeth and raw need, a kiss that spoke of possession and a hunger that was far from sated. When she pulled back, her lips were swollen, her eyes glinting with a wild, mischievous light.

Karishma suddenly stopped, a mischievous glint in her eye. “You’re so strong, Harshad. So… vehement,” she purred, her voice a husky thing that coiled in his gut. “But I wonder… do you know how to be still? How to just… take?”

His brow furrowed, his body already thrumming with a new kind of anticipation. “What do you mean?”

A slow, sensual smile. “Do you trust me?” she asked, her thumb brushing over his lower lip.

“With my life,” harshad breathed, the answer coming without thought, a raw truth pulled from deep within him.

“Good.” Her smile widened. “Then don’t move a muscle. Don’t you dare touch me. Not unless I tell you to. This is my show. You’re just my very, very lucky audience.”

A thrill, sharp and electric, shot through him. The command in her voice, the absolute certainty, was the most potent aphrodisiac he’d ever experienced. Harshad gave a single, sharp nod, his hands falling open-palmed to the couch cushions on either side of him. A surrender. A silent vow of obedience.

Her eyes lit up with approval. “Good boy.”

Karishma began to move, a slow, hypnotic roll of her hips as she settled back, her weight resting on his thighs. Her hands glided up her own body, cupping her breasts, her thumbs circling her own nipples until they pebbled into hard, eager points. A soft sigh escaped her, her head tilting back, exposing the long, elegant line of her throat. He watched, mesmerized, his own breath catching in his chest. His arousal, which had begun to ebb, returned with a furious intensity, his cock twitching against the denim of his jeans, trapped and straining.

“See something you like?” she murmured, her eyes fluttering open to watch him watch her.

Harshad could only groan, his fingers digging into the fabric of the couch to stop himself from reaching for her. “Karishma…”

“Shhh,” she soothed, leaning forward again. But this time, her target wasn’t his mouth. She lowered her head, her dark hair tickling his stomach as her lips found the button of his jeans. Her teeth caught it, popping it open with a deft flick of her head. The sound of his zipper being dragged down was obscenely loud in the quiet room. Every pull of the metal teeth was an agony of anticipation.

She tugged, and he lifted his hips instinctively, helping her peel the tight denim down his legs, along with his briefs, until he was completely bare to her, his erection springing free, thick and aching and flushed a deep red. The cool air was a shock, but her gaze was hotter. She stared at his length with a look of pure, unadulterated hunger.

“Now,” she whispered, her breath ghosting over his sensitive skin, making him jerk. “This belongs to me now.” She didn’t touch him with her hands. Instead, she shifted her body, positioning herself above him. Then, with a control that made his vision blur, she began to lower herself.

But not onto him.

She settled her weight, instead, on his upper thighs, her knees on either side of his hips. Then she leaned forward, bracing her hands on his chest, and began to move. She rocked herself back and forth, grinding the wet, hot heart of herself against the base of his shaft and his throbbing length.

The sensation was mind-blowing. It was the most intimate, torturous friction. He could feel every slick, silken fold of her gliding over him, smearing her own wetness along his skin, using him for her own pleasure. The soft, wet sounds of her movement filled the air, a lewd soundtrack to the breathtaking sight of her above him, lost in her own rhythm. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted on silent, panting breaths. She was making herself come on his cock without taking him inside.

“Fuck, Karishma,” harshad choked out, his entire body rigid with the effort of staying still. His knuckles were white where he gripped the couch. “Please.”

Her eyes opened, heavy-lidded and glazed with pleasure. “Please what, Harshad?” she breathed, never ceasing that maddening, glorious rocking. “Do you want to feel me? Really feel me?”

“Yes! God, yes…”

A triumphant smile. “Then beg for it.”

The words were a vice around his heart, squeezing out all his air. He was putty in her hands, completely at her mercy, and he had never been more turned on in his entire life. “Please, Karishma. I need to be inside you. Please. Let me feel you. I’m begging you.”

Her movements stilled. Her hand snaked down between their bodies, her fingers wrapping around his cock, guiding him. The touch was electric. She positioned him at her entrance, that devastating, welcoming heat he’d been craving. She held him there for a heart-stopping moment, letting him feel the way her body trembled, how ready she was.

"Now," she commanded, her voice dropping to a guttural whisper that sent shivers racing down his spine. Her eyes burned into his, dark and unyielding, filled with a ferocity that made his cock throb painfully against her slick entrance. "Now you can fuck me."

Harshad’s breath hitched, his entire body trembling with the force of holding back. Every muscle was coiled tight, a spring ready to snap. But he waited, his hands still gripping the couch cushions, his hips frozen in place despite the desperate, primal urge to thrust up into her. He was hers—her toy, her obedient boy—and he wouldn’t move until she allowed it.

Karishma’s lips curled into a wicked smile, her satisfaction palpable. She loved this power over him, the way his restraint was a testament to how much he wanted her. Her fingers tightened around his shaft, guiding him just enough to tease himself with her wet heat. She let the tip of his cock press ever so slightly inside her, drawing a low, animalistic growl from his throat.

“You’ve been so good for me,” she cooed, her voice dripping with approval. “But I think you’ve earned this.” With deliberate slowness, she began to lower herself onto him, inch by excruciating inch. Harshad’s vision blurred as her tight, silken walls enveloped him, the sensation so intense it bordered on agony. He gritted his teeth, his jaw clenched so tightly it ached, but he didn’t move. He didn’t dare.

When Karishma finally settled fully onto him, taking every last inch of his throbbing length, she let out a breathless moan that echoed through the room. Her head tipped back, her body arching as she reveled in the feel of him filling her completely. “God, Mr. Chopda,” she gasped, her voice trembling with pleasure. “You feel so fucking good inside me.” Her words shattered the last remnants of his control. His hands shot up to grip her hips, his fingers digging into her soft flesh as he began to move beneath her. He thrust upward, hard and deep, eliciting a sharp, keening cry from her lips. She rode him with abandon, their bodies slamming together in a rhythm that was as primal as it was perfect. The room was filled with the sounds of their passion—their ragged breaths, the slick slap of skin against skin, her ecstatic moans mingling with his guttural groans.

“Harder,” she demanded, her nails raking down his chest as she ground herself against him. “Fuck me harder, Harshad. Show me how much you want me.”

He obeyed without hesitation, his hips pistoning into her with a relentless intensity that left them both gasping for air. His name spilled from her lips like a prayer, over and over, each one driving him closer to the edge. He could feel her tightening around him, her orgasm building, and it only fueled his own desperation.

“I’m close,” she panted, her body trembling above him. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

“Never,” Harshad growled, his hands gripping her tighter as he drove into her with everything he had. Her climax hit her like a tidal wave, her body convulsing around him as she cried out, her pleasure echoing through the room. The feeling of her clenching around him pushed him over the edge, his own release crashing over him with such force it left him breathless and shuddering beneath her.

They collapsed together, spent and panting, their bodies still entwined in the aftermath of their passion. Karishma rested her forehead against his, her breath warm against his lips as she whispered, “That’s my good boy.”