sin and salvation

Chapter 1

Dev’s POV

The music outside was loud. Laughter. Paparazzi. Renowned guests. Celebrities. The glow of fairy lights wrapped around decades of family reputation and fame.

Inside this storeroom-turned-utility-lounge, it was just me and her.

On her knees.

I leaned back against the old oak table, shirt undone, my fingers buried in her hair as she worked me over with a mouth that was clearly used to saying yes.

The door was locked. The lights were dim, and my mind was nowhere at this moment.

Not really.

She moaned softly, as if hoping I’d praise her for her effort. I didn’t.

Because I am not used to praising who throws herself on me, and mostly every girl throws herself on me. I never approached anyone.

They are all so desperate just to have a moment with Sufiyan they think it would help them to have a few minutes with the great Sufiyan. But nope, my friend was always a one-woman man, and finally he married the one.

Today is his reception party. That's where I am right now, but that doesn't mean I can't have a little fun without letting anyone know about this.

I kept my eyes half-lidded, staring at the ceiling, jaw locked as she was moving her head up and down, taking me deep throat.

This wasn’t about pleasure.

It was about numbing something I didn’t want to feel tonight.

“Don’t stop,” I murmured, my voice low, detached. Commanding.

She didn’t, not even when my grip tightened, not when my breath hitched. She was the event manager for the reception party I organized for Sufi. Her name was Neha or Naina or something with a breathy 'N,' and she’d been throwing me looks since the day I finalized her agency for the event.

I hadn’t planned this, but I hadn’t stopped it either because stopping would mean facing the fact that she was here too.

Prachi.

In a soft lavender saree, laughing with Taalika and being jealous of Navitri. Her smile is untouched by the filth of people like me. Her eyes were looking everywhere but at me.

God! How much I wanted her to look at me since I had a few alone moments with that chatterbox at Sufiyan's Bangalore concert before his marriage.

I wanted to give him and Taalika a few moments alone, but that chatterbox wasn't ready to leave them alone, so I have to drag her out somewhere.

I never liked girls who talk nonstop, but there was something about her that pulled me towards her. I heard her constant blabbering in awe that night because my dirty mind was fixated on something else.

A mole.

Yes, a sexy, kissable mole on the right bottom corner of her luscious lips, which were painted sinfully red that night, and how badly I wanted them to be wrapped around my cock.

And that fucking mole.

Till last night I thought I wanted to kiss that mole, but now. Boy, oh boy! There is another mole that I wanted to taste.

Fuck!

I shouldn't have thought such things about her. She is off-limits. Sufiyan's sister-in-law. Taalika's best friend, who is more like a sister to her.

But fuck everything. I want to risk everything since I saw that mole nestled between the valley of her big breasts.

Yes, you heard it right. Last night she was wearing a deep-neck lehenga, which wasn't showing anything inappropriate, but the moment she started a fight with me over stealing Sufiyan's shoes, then I saw that simple black dot between her breasts.