An Innocent Beauty Continues Part2

[Deepak.kapoor]

Meera's Bargain Fulfilled

Arjun’s eyes blazed—triumph written across every line of his face.


He had won. Or so he thought.


Meera’s bargain had slipped from her lips like silk, but now the weight of it wrapped around her like iron chains. She 
had bought Riya’s safety—for now—but the price was steep. Her own body. Her submission.


“Then dikha do,” Arjun said, voice husky, rough with anticipation.
(Then show me.)

His gaze drilled into hers, hot and unwavering. “I’ve held up my end. Now it’s your turn, Meera.”


She felt a chill crawl down her spine despite the heat between them. But she didn’t let it show.


Instead, she closed her eyes for a moment, drawing in a deep, measured breath, gathering every fragment of control left within her.


And when she opened them again, her expression had changed.


The hesitation was gone. In its place: determination veiled in sensual grace. She let a slow smile curve her lips—sultry, deliberate. Her hands rose to his shoulders and then glided downward, fingers dancing across his chest.


“Thik hai…”
(Fine…)
Her voice was a whisper, soft and coaxing. “I’m yours now.”


Arjun’s breath hitched. His grip on her hips tightened instantly, pulling her flush against him. The warmth of her body pressed against his hard Penis, and he exhaled harshly.


Meera’s lips brushed his ear, a teasing feather of touch.
“Yeh toh tumne hi chaha tha, Arjun…”
(This is what you wanted, Arjun…)


“Main aayi hoon, ab sirf tumhaari.”
(I’ve come… now I’m only yours.)


Her hips moved—slow, hypnotic against his hard cock, drawing a groan from his throat. The contact was maddening. She moved with intent, her rhythm fluid, sensual, calculated to stoke his hunger… and make him believe.


Arjun’s eyes darkened. He could barely contain himself. “Fuck…” he muttered under his breath, his hands roaming her sides, clutching her as if afraid she’d vanish if he let go.


Meera's hands continued their slow journey, and she let her palms trail down his bare chest, feeling the hard lines of his body.


“Pasand aaya?”
(You like this?) She whispered, her voice playful, sultry, barely inches from his lips.


Arjun didn’t answer with words.


He surged forward, mouth claiming hers in a heated, almost brutal kiss. Desire poured from him, raw and unchecked, as if the sight of her submission had snapped something inside.


His hands gripped her tightly, molding her body to his, taking in every curve like a starving man. Meera matched his intensity, her lips moving in sync with his, her breath syncing with the rhythm he demanded.


Arjun pulled back from her lips, his breath ragged, eyes wild, starving.


Without warning, his mouth descended lower, grazing along her neck, down the hollow of her collarbone. Every kiss was rough, claiming, not tender. His teeth scbangd, his tongue soothed, and Meera gasped, the sound a delicate mix of performance and genuine shudder.


Then, he reached her breasts.


He didn’t wait.


“Ab tu meri hai, poori tarah se,” he growled against her skin.
(Now you’re mine—completely.)


His lips latched onto one breast, the heat of his mouth searing her flesh. He didn’t kiss—he devoured. His tongue flicked and circled with greed, lavishing every curve, while his hand gripped the other, squeezing, claiming, kneading it with almost punishing pressure.


Meera bit her lip hard, stifling the moan that threatened to escape—not from pleasure, but from the overwhelming intensity.


His voice was thick, breathy, almost animalistic as he murmured,
“Zyada der se tarpa raha tha main khud ko. Ab rukne ka sawaal hi nahi.”
(I’ve been torturing myself too long. There’s no stopping now.)


He sucked harder, alternating between wet, hungry kisses and sharp flicks of his tongue, dragging her nipples between his teeth until they throbbed with heat.


Her body trembled under him—part performance, part instinct.


“Dekh kaise respond karti hai tu…”
(Look how your body responds…) He whispered, almost taunting her.


He grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head with one hand as his mouth continued its ruthless worship. His grip was firm, rough, and domineering.


Meera gasped softly, arching into his touch just enough to keep the illusion alive. Inside, her mind was cold, calculating, focused on the endgame.


Arjun’s hands slid down, gripping her thighs roughly as he hoisted her up like she weighed nothing. Her back hit the cold wall with a jolt, the chill of it contrasting sharply with the blistering heat of his body pressed against hers. Meera gasped—not entirely from the temperature.


He pinned her there, between lust and stone.


Her legs wrapped around his waist, more out of necessity than desire, but her body couldn't ignore the thick pressure of his hard arousal grinding against her cunt. She felt it. Hard. Demanding. Hungry.


He broke the kiss, panting hard, eyes blazing like fire.
“Ab toh tu meri hai…” he growled, low and feral. (Now you're mine… finally.)


His hands ran over her thighs possessively, gripping and kneading.


“Sab kuch degi mujhe, samjhi?”
(You’ll give me everything, understand?)


Meera nodded, swallowing hard.
Play the part. Stay ahead.
“Yes,” she whispered, her voice shakier than she wanted it to be. “I’m yours, Arjun.”


His hips ground into her again, harder this time—his cock straining, rubbing against her soaked cunt, sending a tremor up her spine. Her body, traitorous, responded with heat and sensitivity.


Arjun noticed. Of course he did.


“Feel that?” he breathed against her ear, biting the lobe.
“Teri body khud bol rahi hai kitni chahiye tujhe…”
(Your body’s begging for it… just listen to it.)


His hands roamed, bold and greedy, palms grazing hot skin, thumbs brushing the undersides of her breasts.


Meera felt her breath hitch again, not from pleasure, but from the rising fear that her control was slipping.


No. Not now. You end this on your terms.


With sudden grace, she slid down from his grip, landing softly on her knees between his legs. Arjun blinked, caught off guard by her shift in position.


“Arjun…” she said, sultry and smooth, her hands now at his waist. “Let me take care of you…”


Her fingers worked quickly, undoing his pants, freeing his thick, pulsing cock. Even she couldn’t stop the flicker of shock in her eyes—he was hard, veiny, leaking, demanding attention.


“Wow…” she whispered, her voice laced with fake awe. “You’re so… big.”


Arjun groaned, drunk on the praise. His hand tangled in her hair as she began to stroke him, slow, firm, confident.


“F-fuck…” he hissed, hips twitching. “Haan… like that. Don’t stop. Saali jaadu kar rahi hai tu…”
(You witch… you’re working magic on me…)


Meera’s hand worked him with steady precision, twisting, stroking, teasing the tip, keeping her rhythm cruelly perfect.


Arjun tried to hold back, tried to slow his breathing, to delay the inevitable.
“Nahi… rukna nahi chahiye… mujhe aur chahiye…”
(No… I shouldn’t finish yet… I need more…)


But Meera wasn’t going to give him that chance.


She tightened her grip, sped up her rhythm, watching his face contort with desperation. Her thumb rolled over the sensitive head again and again. She wanted him undone—now.


“Let go, Arjun,” she whispered, biting her lip, keeping the performance seductive. “Just let me take you there…”


And he broke.


With a strangled groan, Arjun's body arched forward, cock jerking violently in her grip.


“Fuckkk… Meeraaa…” he growled as his climax hit him like a thunderclap.


Hot ropes of cum spurted out—landing across her breasts, her hand, her stomach. His hips jerked with each wave, his voice raw and broken, guttural moans echoing in the air as he emptied himself in surrender.


Meera stayed still, letting it hit her, letting him see the mess he made.


He finally sagged, panting, a dazed smirk spreading across his face as he looked down at her.
“You… you’re fucking dangerous,” he breathed. “Kya surprise diya hai mujhe…”
(What a surprise you’ve given me…)


Meera stood up, wiping herself calmly with the nearby cloth, her expression composed yet distant.


“I told you,” she said, cold steel beneath velvet. “You get what you want… as long as you keep your promise.”


He nodded weakly, still swimming in post-orgasmic haze, never realizing that she had just taken what she needed.


Not his touch. Not his lust.


His control.


And she’d left him too dazed to realize he never had it.