Sitara Khanna, a twenty eight year old librarian, is an acid attack survivor. With a half burnt face but a heart full of determination and calibers to survive in the world, she missed a certain element in her life. Love.
Yash Chaudhary, a twenty ni...
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Mature Content (Smut description)
My eyes moistens as my breathing rate slows down at Yash's words.
His rough hands roam around my waist and trails down to my hips, making my breath shallower. Leaning down, he peppers my neck with beautiful butterfly kisses. My eyes close on their own accord.
Yash drags down his hand until he reached the hem of my kurti before he drags his hand back into it's original place. Except, this time his hand trail under my kurti. Clasping on my waist, he allows his thumb to caress my bare skin. My breath hitches at the sensation. I control the urge to whimper.
"No, Tara. Don't." He growls. "Don't suppress those sounds. Put them out loud for me, baby." He says.
Everytime he addresses me with the nickname, a wierd kind of wetness pools in my pants. The nickname, as cliche as it generally sounds, drips down his lips in an erotic way.
"The moment I feel like you're suppressing those delirious sounds, I'll stop. Are we clear?" He asks. His tone huskier than usual, his blind orbs filled with lust.
"Yes." I managed to answer.
"We'll stop any moment you want to. We'll cuddle and spend the day in bed with no more intimacy. Don't hesitate to stop me if I make you uncomfortable." He warns me as his knuckles whisper against my navel.
"Stop talking, Yash. Do it." I managed to whimper out, fed up of all the teasings I have been subjected to.
Grumbling out something, Yash rips my kurti out of my body as his lips descend back onto my skin.
"Take me to the bed, baby." He orders. Pushing him slightly to the bed, I make him sit down by the headboard. He pulls me closer to himself, holding me by my waist.
Before I could comprehend, I feel his lips on my navel, caressing, kissing and licking my stomach.
One moment, I have been busy closing my eyes and the other moment, the blind ex-military man flips me over and down under him. I yelp in shock that earns me a sensual laugh out of Yash.
Without another word, Yash's hand travel to the back of my bralette as his experienced fingers unhook them at my back. Pulling the bra clumsily out of my body, his lips descend down to my shoulder. A groan of frustration falls out of his lips as a giggle of amusement descends mine when I realise he had been looking for my breast but his estimation has gone wrong.
Kissing down my shoulder, he bits onto my perky buds, making me moan out of pleasure. He smirks over my skin before murmuring, "C-cups. As promised."
He wastes no time in devouring my aroused breasts- alternating between licking and biting them.
