It is quite a long chapter. I'd appreciate if you guys could vote and comment.
A R J U N
I'm sitting in my office, but my mind is miles away. It's been a rough few days—hell, rough doesn't even begin to cover it. My mother's words still linger, cutting deeper than I'd like to admit, but that's not the worst of it. The worst part is how Ayesha looked after that evening at my penthouse, like she'd been gutted. It's one thing to see her hurt by a stranger, but to know my family, my own mother, did that to her? It makes me feel... helpless. And I fucking hate feeling helpless.
But I won't let that happen again. I don't care what it takes, I'll protect her. I'll protect what we have, and if anyone dares to hurt her—whether it's my family or some twisted psycho—I'll make them regret it.
Ayesha, however not once made me feel guilty about whatever happened. She has not even mentioned what my mother said to her again. We even went to her best friend, Isha and Raghav's engagement party last night. It was heartwarming to see her enjoying her heart out with her friends. That woman has nothing but love and care to give to everyone close to her without a trace of malice in her. It makes me want to chain her to me and protect her from this fucked up world.
And about that psychopath stalker who is after her. He sent a very disgusting package a few days back to her office. Every time I think about those damn photos, a fresh wave of rage courses through me. It's been days since that sick package arrived—full of pictures of Ayesha in her most intimate moments, along with disgusting items that made my blood boil. How long has this bastard been watching her? The thought of someone seeing Ayesha, my Ayesha, in ways only I should see, makes me want to tear something apart.
He's been out there, lurking in the shadows, watching her every move, watching us. And I wasn't there to protect her. But that ends now.
I was in the middle of signing off on some paperwork when I felt her presence before I saw her. Ayesha, standing in the doorway of my office, looking like the best thing that had happened to me all day. God, she is beautiful. The tension in my shoulders eased a little just at the sight of her.
The sight of her instantly shifts my mood. She's wearing this playful smile, the one that always melts away the stress of the day. She moves with a grace that's all her own, yet there's an edge to it, like she's up to something.
"Hey stranger," she says softly, closing the door behind her.
I lean back in my chair, unable to hide the grin that spreads across my face. "What are you doing here, love?"
"I got free early and thought to brighten up your boring-ass day," she smiles mischievously.
Ayesha rounds my desk, her fingers trailing along the polished wood. She stops in front of me, tilting her head slightly. "You look tense. Anything you want to talk about?"
I shrug, trying to play it off, but Ayesha isn't fooled. She circles around my desk, coming to stand behind me, her hands slipping onto my shoulders. Her touch is gentle but firm, her thumbs kneading into the knots of tension that have settled there.
"You're working too hard," she murmurs, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the side of my neck. "You need a break."
I close my eyes, letting out a slow sigh. "A break sounds good."
Ayesha moves around to the front of my desk, her eyes locked on mine as she slowly sinks to her knees. My pulse quickens, realizing what she's about to do. "Ayesha..."
But she doesn't stop. Instead, she smirks up at me as her hands work on my belt, her fingers deftly undoing it before moving to the button and zipper of my pants. She's determined, playful, and fuck, I'm already losing control.
"What are you doing?" I manage to ask, my voice strained.
"Helping my workaholic boyfriend relax," she purrs, her voice sultry. "Just let me."
Fuck. This woman.
Before I can respond, her hand slips inside my pants, and I'm gone.
It's like she's pulling me out of the darkness and into her light, and fuck, I need that right now.
"You sure this is how you want to help?" I murmur, my voice low and rough.
She doesn't answer with words. Instead, her hands move to my belt, unbuckling it with deliberate slowness. My breath hitches as she tugs down the zipper, freeing me from the confines of my pants. I'm already rock fucking hard, and the look of hunger in her eyes only makes it worse.
Ayesha strokes my dick with her soft hands while maintaining eye contact with me. Her warm breath fans over me, and then her lips are on cock, soft and teasing. I clench the armrests of my chair, trying to keep my composure, but it's a losing battle. Her mouth works over me, hot and wet, taking me deeper with each movement.
"Fuck, Ayesha," I groan, my head falling back against the chair. She's relentless, her tongue swirling, her lips creating the perfect suction. The stress, the anger, the fear—it all fades into the background. All I can focus on is her, the way she's making me feel.
But just as I'm about to lose myself completely, there's a knock on the door. My jaw tightens, and I curse under my breath. Not now.
"Ayesha, fuck someone's—" I start, but she doesn't stop. If anything, she picks up the pace, her eyes locking with mine, challenging me to hold out.
I'm torn between frustration and arousal, but when the knock comes again, louder this time, I grit my teeth. I click on the speaker button "Who is it?" I call out, trying to keep my voice steady.
"Hey, Arjun. It's your favourite brother in law," comes Samarth's voice through the speaker.
What the fuck is wrong with my family members? Fucking cockblockers.
I'm not about to stop now. I simply cannot. Ayesha's still going, still driving me closer to the edge, and I can't let this interruption take that away.
"Oh—fuck," I grunt as Ayesha takes me to the back of her throat.
Samarth clears his throat, trying to mask his amusement. "Am I interrupting something?"
"Obviously," I manage to grind out, my breath hitching again as Ayesha does something particularly sinful with her tongue.
"Should I come back later?"
Ayesha's pace quickens, and I feel the tension coiling in my gut, the release imminent. "Shit," I growl, "just—fuck, just give me a minute."
Samarth chuckles, clearly enjoying this far too much. But I don't care. I fist Ayesha's hair in a tight ponytail and thrust my cock at the back of her throat. With a final, desperate thrust, I let go, the release hitting me like a freight train. Ayesha swallows every drop, her eyes never leaving mine as I come down from the high.
A tiny drop drips from the corner of her mouth. I rub it with my thumb and press it on her lips. My perfect girl sucks it off obediently.
"God, you're perfect," I rasp.
Ayesha keeps on sucking my thumb. "Mhm," she moans slightly, fluttering her eyelashes.
Fuck her moans are so fucking hot.
When she finally pulls back, she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, a satisfied smirk on her lips. I lean back, trying to catch my breath, and she stands up, smoothing down her dress as if nothing happened.