20-09-2024, 09:11 AM
When she hears her fiancé come home, Anita’s heart races, guilt and fear coursing through her veins. She quickly rinses off and wraps herself in a large towel, careful to cover the marks that still adorn her skin.
"I'm in the bathroom!" she calls back, voice slightly shaky. "Be out in a minute!" As she dries off, she catches sight of herself in the mirror. A vivid bruise on her collarbone catches her eye, and she swallows hard, remembering Supratim's mouth there. She hurriedly pulls on a high-necked robe, praying it conceals everything.
Meanwhile, Arijit waits in the bedroom, his own mind a tumult of emotions. The image of Anita writhing beneath Supratim is seared into his brain. He'd watched it all, hidden away, aroused and ashamed in equal measure. Now, he struggles to reconcile the devoted fiancée he knows with the wanton woman he witnessed.
Anita emerges from the bathroom, forcing a smile. "Hi, love. How was your day?"
Arijit's eyes roam over her, searching for signs of her infidelity. "Fine," he replies, voice tight. "Yours?"
"Oh, you know. The usual." she says, avoiding his gaze. Arijit approaches her from behind, placing his hands on her shoulders. His fiance tenses, afraid he'll feel the marks beneath the robe.
"You seem tense.", he murmurs, fingers kneading her muscles. "Rough day?"
She bites back a gasp as his fingers brush a particularly sensitive spot. "Just... busy." she manages.
Arijit leans in, his breath hot on her neck. "Maybe I can help you relax." he suggests, hands sliding down her arms.
Panic flares in Anita's chest. "Actually, I... I'm not feeling well," she stammers, pulling away. "Headache. I think I'll just lie down for a bit."
Disappointment and suspicion war on Arijit's face. "Oh. Alright then."
As Anita climbs into bed, turning away from him, Arijit stands there, watching. He wants to confront her, to demand the truth. But the memory of his own voyeuristic pleasure stops him. They lie there in silence, backs to each other, each lost in their own web of secrets and lies. The air is thick with unspoken words and hidden desires, neither knowing how to bridge the growing chasm between them.
*Next day*
The evening before the trip, Anita's bedroom is a chaotic mess of clothes and lingerie strewn across the bed. Her suitcase lies open, half-packed, as she frantically sorts through her wardrobe. Her heart races, knowing her fiance could return at any moment. She holds up the backless black dress her boss demanded, her hands trembling slightly. A wave of apprehension washes over her as she imagines wearing it in public, feeling exposed and vulnerable. After a moment's hesitation, she folds it carefully and tucks it into the suitcase. Next comes the low-cut blouse, its neckline plunging dangerously low. Anita's stomach churns with a mix of excitement and fear. Is she really going to go through with this? She packs it quickly, trying to ignore the voice in her head telling her to back out. The red bikini is next - barely more than a few scraps of fabric held together by thin strings. Her pussy throbs as she imagines her boss’s hands untying those precarious knots, but guilt immediately follows the arousal. She buries it deep in the suitcase, beneath more modest clothing.
Anita pauses, holding a pair of skin-tight leather pants Supratim had specifically requested over text. The material is butter-soft, clinging to every curve of her legs and ass like a second skin. She swallows hard, picturing his hungry gaze roaming over her body. With shaking hands, she folds the pants and adds them to the suitcase. Finally, she reaches for the piece de resistance - the lingerie from their college days. The lacy black bra and thong set, with garters and stockings. Memories flood her mind - Supratim's rough hands, his demanding mouth, the way he'd made her beg... she feels a rush of heat between her legs, followed immediately by a wave of shame. What kind of person is she, betraying her fiancé, the love of her life, like this?
She's so caught up in her internal struggle that she doesn't hear the front door open.
"Honey, I'm home early!" Arijit's voice calls out. Panic surges through Anita. She frantically shoves the lingerie into the suitcase and slams it shut, just as Arijit appears in the doorway.
"Hey, darling!", she says, voice slightly breathless. "Just finishing up my packing."
Arijit's eyes narrow, taking in the mess and Anita's flushed face. "Packing an awful lot for a short business trip, aren't you?" As Arijit steps into the bedroom, a maelstrom of emotions churns within him. His eyes narrow as they take in the chaos of the room, the hastily packed suitcase, and his fiance’s flushed face. A surge of jealousy courses through his veins, hot and bitter.
Anita forces a laugh, guilt gnawing at her insides. "Oh, you know me. Always overprepared." She moves to block his view of the suitcase, praying he won't ask to see what she's packed. As Arijit steps closer, Anita's heart pounds. She can almost feel the heat of her boss’s gaze on her skin, even though he's not there.
"So…", Arijit says, his tone casual but his eyes sharp. "Early start tomorrow?"
Anita nods, not trusting her voice. She thinks of the private cabin her boss and former lover – the man who took her virginity in college - has booked on the train, of the long hours they'll spend alone together. Guilt and anticipation war within her. "Yeah!" she manages. "Supratim's picking me up at 6 AM. We're taking the train."
Arijit's jaw tightens almost imperceptibly at the mention of her boss’s name. "Well…", he says, leaning in to kiss her cheek, "I hope you have a... productive trip."
As his lips brush her skin, Anita can't help but shiver, thinking of another man's touch. Arijit feels it too. Is she thinking of Supratim? The thought sends another jolt of confused arousal through him. He wants to throw her on the bed, to reclaim her, to remind her who she belongs to. But he doesn't. He can't. Instead, he steps back, his heart heavy with the weight of unspoken words and forbidden desires. He watches Anita, his fiancée, the woman he loves, prepare to leave with another man. And as much as it kills him, as much as it makes him burn with jealousy and shame, a small, twisted part of him can't wait to see what happens next. The air between them is thick with unspoken tensions and hidden desires.
The next morning:
The harsh buzz of the alarm jolts Anita awake at 5 AM. Her heart immediately begins to race, a potent cocktail of excitement, guilt, and fear coursing through her veins. The weight of what she's about to do settles heavily on her chest, making it hard to breathe. She lies there for a moment, paralyzed by indecision. Is she really going to go through with this? The thought of her boss’s hungry gaze, his rough hands on her body, sends a shiver of anticipation down her spine. But then her fiance stirs beside her, and a wave of shame washes over her.
Anita forces herself out of bed, each step feeling like she's wading through molasses. Time seems to stretch and warp, every second an eternity as she makes her way to the bathroom. The face that stares back at her in the mirror is dusky and drawn, dark circles under her eyes betraying her restless night. As she showers, her hands tremble. The hot water cascades over her body, revealing once again the fading bruises and love bites her domineering boss left during their last encounter. She traces them gently, torn between arousal at the memory and guilt at the betrayal they represent.
Wrapped in a towel, Anita stands before her closet, paralyzed by indecision. What to wear? The revealing outfits Supratim requested are safely hidden in her suitcase, but she needs something for the initial journey. Something that won't raise Arijit's suspicions, but will still please the man she is leaving with. She reaches for a conservative blouse, then hesitates. Would Supratim be disappointed? Her hand hovers over a more revealing top, but she pulls back, imagining her fiancé’s questioning gaze. Every choice feels loaded with meaning, every decision a potential misstep.
Finally, she settles on a modest but form-fitting dress. It's respectable enough not to alarm Arijit, but the way it hugs her curves will surely catch Supratim's eye. As she slips it on, she's acutely aware of how it brushes against her sensitive skin, how it conceals the marks of her infidelity. She applies her makeup with shaking hands, using concealer to hide the dark circles and any visible bruises. She debates how much to put on - too little, and she might look tired and unappealing; too much, and Arijit might wonder why she's dressing up for a business trip.
As she puts the finishing touches on her appearance, Anita's heart nearly stops when she hears movement from the bedroom. Arijit's sleepy voice calls out, "Anita? You up already?" She freezes, panic rising in her throat. She hadn't expected him to wake up. Now she'll have to face him, to lie to his face one last time before she leaves. The thought makes her stomach churn.
"Yeah.", she calls back, her voice sounding strained even to her own ears. "Just finishing up. My boss will be here soon."
Arijit appears in the doorway, hair tousled from sleep, eyes still heavy-lidded. He looks at her, taking in her appearance, and Anita feels exposed, as if he can see right through her carefully constructed facade to the guilt and desire roiling beneath.
"You look nice.", he says softly, and the simple compliment feels like a knife twisting in her gut.
Anita forces a smile. "Thanks. Just want to look professional, you know?"
Arijit nods, then steps closer. Anita's breath catches as he leans in to kiss her goodbye. His lips are soft, familiar, loving - everything Supratim's aren't. For a moment, she's overwhelmed by the urge to confess everything, to beg forgiveness, to stay.
But then the doorbell rings. Her boss is here.
Anita pulls away from Arijit, her heart pounding. "I have to go.", she says, hating how eager she sounds.
Arijit's eyes darken slightly, but he nods. "Have a good trip.", he says, and Anita can hear the unspoken questions in his voice. She grabs her suitcase, every movement feeling like she's moving through quicksand. At the door, she turns back one last time. Arijit stands there, watching her go, and the look in his eyes nearly breaks her resolve. But the pull of the forbidden is too strong. With one last forced smile, Anita steps out into the morning, leaving behind the safety of her normal life. Whatever happens on this trip, she knows, her life will never be the same.
As she walks towards Supratim's waiting car, her body thrums with a mix of anticipation and dread. There's no turning back now. She's made her choice, for better or for worse.
Arijit’s emotions:
As the door clicks shut behind his fiance, Arijit stands frozen in place, his heart pounding. The silence of the apartment feels oppressive, suffocating. He listens to the sound of her heels clicking down the hallway, growing fainter until they disappear entirely. A wave of emotions crashes over him - jealousy, anger, arousal, and shame all warring for dominance. His fists clench at his sides, knuckles turning white as he fights the urge to run after her, to drag her back inside and claim her as his own.
Instead, he stumbles back to the bedroom, his legs weak. The scent of Anita's perfume still lingers in the air, taunting him. He collapses onto the bed, burying his face in her pillow, inhaling deeply. His cock stirs traitorously in his pajama pants as his mind conjures images of what Anita and her boss might be doing. With a growl of frustration, Arijit rolls onto his back, one hand sliding beneath the waistband of his pants. He grips his hardening 5.5-inch shaft, shame and arousal mingling as he starts to stroke himself. In his mind's eye, he sees Anita completely naked, her petite frame dwarfed by Supratim's tall, muscular body. The alpha male’s broad, hairy chest heaves with exertion as he towers over her, his large hands gripping her narrow waist. Anita's dusky skin glows with a sheen of sweat, her rich brown complexion a beautiful contrast to Supratim's lighter olive tone.
Arijit imagines Supratim's powerful thighs, corded with muscle, spreading Anita's slender legs wide as he positions himself between them. The size difference is stark - Supratim's 8-inch cock looks massive against Anita's tiny body, and Arijit can almost hear her gasp as Supratim enters her. In this vivid fantasy, his muscular arms flex as he grips the edge of his desk, using it for leverage as he pounds into Anita. Her small breasts, topped with dark, pebbled nipples, bounce with each thrust. Her delicate fingers claw at Supratim's broad, hair-covered back, leaving faint red trails on his lighter skin. The contrast between Supratim's raw, masculine power and Anita's feminine softness, accentuated by her rich, dusky complexion, is intoxicating.
"Fuck!" Arijit groans, his hand moving faster. He imagines Anita's moans of pleasure, the way her body would writhe beneath Supratim's touch. Her free hand roams over his chest, pinching his nipples roughly as he pictures Supratim marking Anita's dusky skin with bites and bruises. The jealousy burns hot in his veins, but it only serves to fuel his arousal. Arijit's hips buck up into his fist as he imagines watching them, hidden in the corner of the office. In his fantasy, Anita's eyes meet his over Supratim's shoulder, filled with a mixture of shame and defiance.
Arijit's movements become more frantic, his breathing ragged. He's close, so close. In his mind, Supratim pulls out of Anita, leaving her pussy gaping and dripping. "Clean her up!" fantasy-Supratim commands, and Arijit finds himself eagerly complying, burying his face between Anita's thighs to taste the mixture of her juices and Supratim's cum.
With a strangled cry, Arijit comes hard, his release spilling over his hand and onto his stomach. As the waves of pleasure subside, shame and self-loathing crash over him. What kind of man gets off on the thought of his fiancée being fucked by another man? Panting, covered in his own cum, Arijit stares at the ceiling. He should be angry, should be planning how to confront Anita when she returns. Instead, a small, twisted part of him hopes she'll come back with stories to tell, with fresh marks on her skin for him to trace with trembling fingers.
As he cleans himself up, Arijit's mind races. How will he make it through the next few days, knowing what Anita and her boss are likely doing? The thought sends another jolt of arousal through him, and he groans in frustration. This "business trip" is going to be the longest few days of his life. And as much as he hates himself for it, a part of him can't wait to see what state Anita will be in when she returns.
"I'm in the bathroom!" she calls back, voice slightly shaky. "Be out in a minute!" As she dries off, she catches sight of herself in the mirror. A vivid bruise on her collarbone catches her eye, and she swallows hard, remembering Supratim's mouth there. She hurriedly pulls on a high-necked robe, praying it conceals everything.
Meanwhile, Arijit waits in the bedroom, his own mind a tumult of emotions. The image of Anita writhing beneath Supratim is seared into his brain. He'd watched it all, hidden away, aroused and ashamed in equal measure. Now, he struggles to reconcile the devoted fiancée he knows with the wanton woman he witnessed.
Anita emerges from the bathroom, forcing a smile. "Hi, love. How was your day?"
Arijit's eyes roam over her, searching for signs of her infidelity. "Fine," he replies, voice tight. "Yours?"
"Oh, you know. The usual." she says, avoiding his gaze. Arijit approaches her from behind, placing his hands on her shoulders. His fiance tenses, afraid he'll feel the marks beneath the robe.
"You seem tense.", he murmurs, fingers kneading her muscles. "Rough day?"
She bites back a gasp as his fingers brush a particularly sensitive spot. "Just... busy." she manages.
Arijit leans in, his breath hot on her neck. "Maybe I can help you relax." he suggests, hands sliding down her arms.
Panic flares in Anita's chest. "Actually, I... I'm not feeling well," she stammers, pulling away. "Headache. I think I'll just lie down for a bit."
Disappointment and suspicion war on Arijit's face. "Oh. Alright then."
As Anita climbs into bed, turning away from him, Arijit stands there, watching. He wants to confront her, to demand the truth. But the memory of his own voyeuristic pleasure stops him. They lie there in silence, backs to each other, each lost in their own web of secrets and lies. The air is thick with unspoken words and hidden desires, neither knowing how to bridge the growing chasm between them.
*Next day*
The evening before the trip, Anita's bedroom is a chaotic mess of clothes and lingerie strewn across the bed. Her suitcase lies open, half-packed, as she frantically sorts through her wardrobe. Her heart races, knowing her fiance could return at any moment. She holds up the backless black dress her boss demanded, her hands trembling slightly. A wave of apprehension washes over her as she imagines wearing it in public, feeling exposed and vulnerable. After a moment's hesitation, she folds it carefully and tucks it into the suitcase. Next comes the low-cut blouse, its neckline plunging dangerously low. Anita's stomach churns with a mix of excitement and fear. Is she really going to go through with this? She packs it quickly, trying to ignore the voice in her head telling her to back out. The red bikini is next - barely more than a few scraps of fabric held together by thin strings. Her pussy throbs as she imagines her boss’s hands untying those precarious knots, but guilt immediately follows the arousal. She buries it deep in the suitcase, beneath more modest clothing.
Anita pauses, holding a pair of skin-tight leather pants Supratim had specifically requested over text. The material is butter-soft, clinging to every curve of her legs and ass like a second skin. She swallows hard, picturing his hungry gaze roaming over her body. With shaking hands, she folds the pants and adds them to the suitcase. Finally, she reaches for the piece de resistance - the lingerie from their college days. The lacy black bra and thong set, with garters and stockings. Memories flood her mind - Supratim's rough hands, his demanding mouth, the way he'd made her beg... she feels a rush of heat between her legs, followed immediately by a wave of shame. What kind of person is she, betraying her fiancé, the love of her life, like this?
She's so caught up in her internal struggle that she doesn't hear the front door open.
"Honey, I'm home early!" Arijit's voice calls out. Panic surges through Anita. She frantically shoves the lingerie into the suitcase and slams it shut, just as Arijit appears in the doorway.
"Hey, darling!", she says, voice slightly breathless. "Just finishing up my packing."
Arijit's eyes narrow, taking in the mess and Anita's flushed face. "Packing an awful lot for a short business trip, aren't you?" As Arijit steps into the bedroom, a maelstrom of emotions churns within him. His eyes narrow as they take in the chaos of the room, the hastily packed suitcase, and his fiance’s flushed face. A surge of jealousy courses through his veins, hot and bitter.
Anita forces a laugh, guilt gnawing at her insides. "Oh, you know me. Always overprepared." She moves to block his view of the suitcase, praying he won't ask to see what she's packed. As Arijit steps closer, Anita's heart pounds. She can almost feel the heat of her boss’s gaze on her skin, even though he's not there.
"So…", Arijit says, his tone casual but his eyes sharp. "Early start tomorrow?"
Anita nods, not trusting her voice. She thinks of the private cabin her boss and former lover – the man who took her virginity in college - has booked on the train, of the long hours they'll spend alone together. Guilt and anticipation war within her. "Yeah!" she manages. "Supratim's picking me up at 6 AM. We're taking the train."
Arijit's jaw tightens almost imperceptibly at the mention of her boss’s name. "Well…", he says, leaning in to kiss her cheek, "I hope you have a... productive trip."
As his lips brush her skin, Anita can't help but shiver, thinking of another man's touch. Arijit feels it too. Is she thinking of Supratim? The thought sends another jolt of confused arousal through him. He wants to throw her on the bed, to reclaim her, to remind her who she belongs to. But he doesn't. He can't. Instead, he steps back, his heart heavy with the weight of unspoken words and forbidden desires. He watches Anita, his fiancée, the woman he loves, prepare to leave with another man. And as much as it kills him, as much as it makes him burn with jealousy and shame, a small, twisted part of him can't wait to see what happens next. The air between them is thick with unspoken tensions and hidden desires.
The next morning:
The harsh buzz of the alarm jolts Anita awake at 5 AM. Her heart immediately begins to race, a potent cocktail of excitement, guilt, and fear coursing through her veins. The weight of what she's about to do settles heavily on her chest, making it hard to breathe. She lies there for a moment, paralyzed by indecision. Is she really going to go through with this? The thought of her boss’s hungry gaze, his rough hands on her body, sends a shiver of anticipation down her spine. But then her fiance stirs beside her, and a wave of shame washes over her.
Anita forces herself out of bed, each step feeling like she's wading through molasses. Time seems to stretch and warp, every second an eternity as she makes her way to the bathroom. The face that stares back at her in the mirror is dusky and drawn, dark circles under her eyes betraying her restless night. As she showers, her hands tremble. The hot water cascades over her body, revealing once again the fading bruises and love bites her domineering boss left during their last encounter. She traces them gently, torn between arousal at the memory and guilt at the betrayal they represent.
Wrapped in a towel, Anita stands before her closet, paralyzed by indecision. What to wear? The revealing outfits Supratim requested are safely hidden in her suitcase, but she needs something for the initial journey. Something that won't raise Arijit's suspicions, but will still please the man she is leaving with. She reaches for a conservative blouse, then hesitates. Would Supratim be disappointed? Her hand hovers over a more revealing top, but she pulls back, imagining her fiancé’s questioning gaze. Every choice feels loaded with meaning, every decision a potential misstep.
Finally, she settles on a modest but form-fitting dress. It's respectable enough not to alarm Arijit, but the way it hugs her curves will surely catch Supratim's eye. As she slips it on, she's acutely aware of how it brushes against her sensitive skin, how it conceals the marks of her infidelity. She applies her makeup with shaking hands, using concealer to hide the dark circles and any visible bruises. She debates how much to put on - too little, and she might look tired and unappealing; too much, and Arijit might wonder why she's dressing up for a business trip.
As she puts the finishing touches on her appearance, Anita's heart nearly stops when she hears movement from the bedroom. Arijit's sleepy voice calls out, "Anita? You up already?" She freezes, panic rising in her throat. She hadn't expected him to wake up. Now she'll have to face him, to lie to his face one last time before she leaves. The thought makes her stomach churn.
"Yeah.", she calls back, her voice sounding strained even to her own ears. "Just finishing up. My boss will be here soon."
Arijit appears in the doorway, hair tousled from sleep, eyes still heavy-lidded. He looks at her, taking in her appearance, and Anita feels exposed, as if he can see right through her carefully constructed facade to the guilt and desire roiling beneath.
"You look nice.", he says softly, and the simple compliment feels like a knife twisting in her gut.
Anita forces a smile. "Thanks. Just want to look professional, you know?"
Arijit nods, then steps closer. Anita's breath catches as he leans in to kiss her goodbye. His lips are soft, familiar, loving - everything Supratim's aren't. For a moment, she's overwhelmed by the urge to confess everything, to beg forgiveness, to stay.
But then the doorbell rings. Her boss is here.
Anita pulls away from Arijit, her heart pounding. "I have to go.", she says, hating how eager she sounds.
Arijit's eyes darken slightly, but he nods. "Have a good trip.", he says, and Anita can hear the unspoken questions in his voice. She grabs her suitcase, every movement feeling like she's moving through quicksand. At the door, she turns back one last time. Arijit stands there, watching her go, and the look in his eyes nearly breaks her resolve. But the pull of the forbidden is too strong. With one last forced smile, Anita steps out into the morning, leaving behind the safety of her normal life. Whatever happens on this trip, she knows, her life will never be the same.
As she walks towards Supratim's waiting car, her body thrums with a mix of anticipation and dread. There's no turning back now. She's made her choice, for better or for worse.
Arijit’s emotions:
As the door clicks shut behind his fiance, Arijit stands frozen in place, his heart pounding. The silence of the apartment feels oppressive, suffocating. He listens to the sound of her heels clicking down the hallway, growing fainter until they disappear entirely. A wave of emotions crashes over him - jealousy, anger, arousal, and shame all warring for dominance. His fists clench at his sides, knuckles turning white as he fights the urge to run after her, to drag her back inside and claim her as his own.
Instead, he stumbles back to the bedroom, his legs weak. The scent of Anita's perfume still lingers in the air, taunting him. He collapses onto the bed, burying his face in her pillow, inhaling deeply. His cock stirs traitorously in his pajama pants as his mind conjures images of what Anita and her boss might be doing. With a growl of frustration, Arijit rolls onto his back, one hand sliding beneath the waistband of his pants. He grips his hardening 5.5-inch shaft, shame and arousal mingling as he starts to stroke himself. In his mind's eye, he sees Anita completely naked, her petite frame dwarfed by Supratim's tall, muscular body. The alpha male’s broad, hairy chest heaves with exertion as he towers over her, his large hands gripping her narrow waist. Anita's dusky skin glows with a sheen of sweat, her rich brown complexion a beautiful contrast to Supratim's lighter olive tone.
Arijit imagines Supratim's powerful thighs, corded with muscle, spreading Anita's slender legs wide as he positions himself between them. The size difference is stark - Supratim's 8-inch cock looks massive against Anita's tiny body, and Arijit can almost hear her gasp as Supratim enters her. In this vivid fantasy, his muscular arms flex as he grips the edge of his desk, using it for leverage as he pounds into Anita. Her small breasts, topped with dark, pebbled nipples, bounce with each thrust. Her delicate fingers claw at Supratim's broad, hair-covered back, leaving faint red trails on his lighter skin. The contrast between Supratim's raw, masculine power and Anita's feminine softness, accentuated by her rich, dusky complexion, is intoxicating.
"Fuck!" Arijit groans, his hand moving faster. He imagines Anita's moans of pleasure, the way her body would writhe beneath Supratim's touch. Her free hand roams over his chest, pinching his nipples roughly as he pictures Supratim marking Anita's dusky skin with bites and bruises. The jealousy burns hot in his veins, but it only serves to fuel his arousal. Arijit's hips buck up into his fist as he imagines watching them, hidden in the corner of the office. In his fantasy, Anita's eyes meet his over Supratim's shoulder, filled with a mixture of shame and defiance.
Arijit's movements become more frantic, his breathing ragged. He's close, so close. In his mind, Supratim pulls out of Anita, leaving her pussy gaping and dripping. "Clean her up!" fantasy-Supratim commands, and Arijit finds himself eagerly complying, burying his face between Anita's thighs to taste the mixture of her juices and Supratim's cum.
With a strangled cry, Arijit comes hard, his release spilling over his hand and onto his stomach. As the waves of pleasure subside, shame and self-loathing crash over him. What kind of man gets off on the thought of his fiancée being fucked by another man? Panting, covered in his own cum, Arijit stares at the ceiling. He should be angry, should be planning how to confront Anita when she returns. Instead, a small, twisted part of him hopes she'll come back with stories to tell, with fresh marks on her skin for him to trace with trembling fingers.
As he cleans himself up, Arijit's mind races. How will he make it through the next few days, knowing what Anita and her boss are likely doing? The thought sends another jolt of arousal through him, and he groans in frustration. This "business trip" is going to be the longest few days of his life. And as much as he hates himself for it, a part of him can't wait to see what state Anita will be in when she returns.
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