27-08-2025, 07:05 PM
Chapter 42: Victory’s Cost - Part 1
The office day crackled with a charged undercurrent, Nivi’s presence a magnet that drew eyes, her confidence a blazing flame after last night’s bold bet—Mohan’s victory stinging her pride, pushing her to reclaim her power.
Fuck, he lasted 32 minutes—my mouth gave everything, but he held like a rock, she thought, her body buzzing as she moved through tasks, fingers pausing over her keyboard. That loss hit hard—my fire’s been ruling men, and he flipped it. Tonight, I break him, slow and dirty.
Her mind surged with defiance and heat, Raghavan’s absence a distant ache, his words of freedom echoing: Explore, be safe. Mohan’s claim’s growing, but my throne’s mine—I’m taking it back.
She chose a daring outfit from Raghavan’s shopping spree—a deep red chiffon kurti, sheer enough to hint at her breasts’ fullness, low neck teasing a glimpse of cleavage, paired with black leggings that hugged her hips, her ass swaying with every step.
Mohan’s gifted anklet glinted on her ankle, a bold choice she wore for the challenge. Fuck, this look—Raghavan’s kurti, Mohan’s anklet—it’s naughty, mixing their claims, she thought, her body tingling as she entered, heads turning, the gang’s eyes wide with curiosity.
At the morning tea break, the gang swarmed, Ashwin’s grin sharp as he leaned in. “Nivi, damn—that kurti’s pure fire. Special occasion? And that anklet—new vibe?” His voice was playful, probing, eyes flicking to her legs, then the sheer fabric hinting at her curves.
Dinesh nodded, glasses glinting. “Yeah, queen—you’re glowing like it’s a big day. What’s the story? That anklet’s fancy—who’s the gifter?” His tone was teasing, his gaze lingering on her hips, the leggings accentuating her sway.
Saritha chimed in, “Special? Spill, girl—you’re stealing the show.” Lakshmi added, “That look’s dangerous—someone’s lucky.” Fuck, they’re all over it—the anklet, the outfit, sensing a spark, she thought, her body warming, a subtle sway as she poured tea. Only Mohan knows the anklet’s his—a secret tie for tonight.
Mohan stood to the side, his eyes locking on her ankle, a knowing smirk curling his lips. “Looks stunning, Nivi—that anklet’s perfect. Big day?” His voice was casual, but the naughty glint implied their bet, his victory, and the challenge ahead. Fuck, he knows—his gift on me, a mark for our game, she thought, her heart racing, the thrill of their secret stoking her fire.
She laughed, voice sultry, indirect. “Big day? Just feeling bold—saved the anklet for the right moment. Jealous it’s not yours, boys?” Her tone teased the gang, but her eyes flicked to Mohan, a naughty spark—fuck, he’s eating this up, knowing it’s his.
The group erupted in laughter, Ashwin’s “Lucky bastard!” and Dinesh’s “We’re outclassed!” filling the air, but Mohan’s gaze burned hotter, a silent nod to their shared stakes.
Fuck, they’re curious, but only he knows—this outfit, this anklet, it’s for breaking him, she thought, her body buzzing with anticipation, keeping it light but daring.
The day dragged with a heavier workload, reports piling up, meetings stretching late. Nivi and Mohan were the last to leave, sorting files in the quiet office, the air thick with their secret.
“Nivi, that kurti—fucking distracting all day,” Mohan said, voice low, stepping close as they packed, his hand brushing her arm lightly, eyes tracing her cleavage, then her ankle.
Fuck, he’s bold—seeing his anklet, my curves, already hungry, she thought, her body heating, thighs shifting subtly.
“Distracting? Good—that’s the plan,” she purred, voice sultry, leaning in to let her shoulder graze his, a controlled tease.
My power’s in this—his eyes, his hunger, I’m setting the stage, she thought, her fire flaring as she grabbed her bag, the anklet glinting with each step.
“Ready for tonight, Mohan? Or still recovering from last time?” Her voice was naughty, challenging, her mind sharp: Last time, rough failed—his cock took it.
Tonight, I go slow, dirty, break him quick.
Continues...
The office day crackled with a charged undercurrent, Nivi’s presence a magnet that drew eyes, her confidence a blazing flame after last night’s bold bet—Mohan’s victory stinging her pride, pushing her to reclaim her power.
Fuck, he lasted 32 minutes—my mouth gave everything, but he held like a rock, she thought, her body buzzing as she moved through tasks, fingers pausing over her keyboard. That loss hit hard—my fire’s been ruling men, and he flipped it. Tonight, I break him, slow and dirty.
Her mind surged with defiance and heat, Raghavan’s absence a distant ache, his words of freedom echoing: Explore, be safe. Mohan’s claim’s growing, but my throne’s mine—I’m taking it back.
She chose a daring outfit from Raghavan’s shopping spree—a deep red chiffon kurti, sheer enough to hint at her breasts’ fullness, low neck teasing a glimpse of cleavage, paired with black leggings that hugged her hips, her ass swaying with every step.
Mohan’s gifted anklet glinted on her ankle, a bold choice she wore for the challenge. Fuck, this look—Raghavan’s kurti, Mohan’s anklet—it’s naughty, mixing their claims, she thought, her body tingling as she entered, heads turning, the gang’s eyes wide with curiosity.
At the morning tea break, the gang swarmed, Ashwin’s grin sharp as he leaned in. “Nivi, damn—that kurti’s pure fire. Special occasion? And that anklet—new vibe?” His voice was playful, probing, eyes flicking to her legs, then the sheer fabric hinting at her curves.
Dinesh nodded, glasses glinting. “Yeah, queen—you’re glowing like it’s a big day. What’s the story? That anklet’s fancy—who’s the gifter?” His tone was teasing, his gaze lingering on her hips, the leggings accentuating her sway.
Saritha chimed in, “Special? Spill, girl—you’re stealing the show.” Lakshmi added, “That look’s dangerous—someone’s lucky.” Fuck, they’re all over it—the anklet, the outfit, sensing a spark, she thought, her body warming, a subtle sway as she poured tea. Only Mohan knows the anklet’s his—a secret tie for tonight.
Mohan stood to the side, his eyes locking on her ankle, a knowing smirk curling his lips. “Looks stunning, Nivi—that anklet’s perfect. Big day?” His voice was casual, but the naughty glint implied their bet, his victory, and the challenge ahead. Fuck, he knows—his gift on me, a mark for our game, she thought, her heart racing, the thrill of their secret stoking her fire.
She laughed, voice sultry, indirect. “Big day? Just feeling bold—saved the anklet for the right moment. Jealous it’s not yours, boys?” Her tone teased the gang, but her eyes flicked to Mohan, a naughty spark—fuck, he’s eating this up, knowing it’s his.
The group erupted in laughter, Ashwin’s “Lucky bastard!” and Dinesh’s “We’re outclassed!” filling the air, but Mohan’s gaze burned hotter, a silent nod to their shared stakes.
Fuck, they’re curious, but only he knows—this outfit, this anklet, it’s for breaking him, she thought, her body buzzing with anticipation, keeping it light but daring.
The day dragged with a heavier workload, reports piling up, meetings stretching late. Nivi and Mohan were the last to leave, sorting files in the quiet office, the air thick with their secret.
“Nivi, that kurti—fucking distracting all day,” Mohan said, voice low, stepping close as they packed, his hand brushing her arm lightly, eyes tracing her cleavage, then her ankle.
Fuck, he’s bold—seeing his anklet, my curves, already hungry, she thought, her body heating, thighs shifting subtly.
“Distracting? Good—that’s the plan,” she purred, voice sultry, leaning in to let her shoulder graze his, a controlled tease.
My power’s in this—his eyes, his hunger, I’m setting the stage, she thought, her fire flaring as she grabbed her bag, the anklet glinting with each step.
“Ready for tonight, Mohan? Or still recovering from last time?” Her voice was naughty, challenging, her mind sharp: Last time, rough failed—his cock took it.
Tonight, I go slow, dirty, break him quick.
Continues...