23-10-2025, 10:51 AM
Scene 2
The music thumped, Shakti's grin, now fully unleashed, was a promise of pleasurable trouble. He had the woman's full attention, her initial caution melting into open desire under his intense gaze. His eyes were glued to the generous curve of her cleavage, and he made no attempt to hide his focus.
Shakti: "You know, babes, I see a lot of people in this room, all dressed up, all pretending to be proper. But you? You look like you're just waiting for someone to .....undress you." Shakti: "Tumhe pata hai, babes, main is kamre mein bahut logon ko dekhta hoon, sab taiyar, sab shareef banne ka natak kar rahe hain. Lekin tum? Tum lagti ho jaise bas kisi ka intezaar kar rahi ho jo aapko .....nanga kar de."
Her cheeks warmed, but her eyes held a challenge. She tilted her head, enjoying the electricity of his boldness.
Woman: "And what makes you think you're the one to see past the clothes, Mr. Kapoor?" Woman: "Aur aapko kya lagta hai ki aap hi woh hain jo kapdon ke peeche dekh sakte hain, Mr. Kapoor?"
Shakti leaned in, his voice dropping to a low, seductive rasp, his gaze never leaving the soft swell of her chest. He was in full villain mode now, charming, dangerous, and completely unavoidable.
Shakti: "Because I don't just see the clothes, jaan. I see the theft of clothes that's about to happen. And trust me, when I'm around, good girls go bad. Real bad." Shakti: "Kyunki main sirf kapde nahi dekhta, jaan. Main woh vastra haran dekhta hoon jo abhi hone wala hai. Aur mera vishwas karo, jab main aas-paas hota hoon, achhi ladkiyan kharab ho jaati hain. Bahut kharab."
He let out a short, wicked laugh. He then straightened up, adopting his iconic pose, the one that screamed confidence and impending chaos.
Shakti: "So, tell me, oh beauty. Are you ready for a night of aaoo?" Shakti: "Toh batao, sundari. Kya tum aaoo ki raat ke liye taiyar ho?"
She laughed, a genuine, delighted sound. The danger was delicious. She reached out and touched his forearm, her fingers tracing the leather of his jacket.
Woman: "Maybe. But you’ll have to convince me you’re worth the risk." Woman: "Ho sakta hai. Lekin aapko mujhe vishwas dilana hoga ki aap khatre ke layak hain."
Shakti: "Risk? I'm not a risk, cutie. I'm a certainty. The only gamble here is how fast you'll be asking me to take you home. Look at you. You have the kind of body that needs to be handled, not just looked at." Shakti: "Khatra? Main khatra nahi hoon, pyari. Main nishchitata (certainty) hoon. Yahaan ek hi jua hai ki tum kitni jaldi mujhe tumhe ghar le jaane ke liye kahogi. Tumhe dekho. Tumhara jism aisa hai jise sambhalna chahiye, sirf dekhna nahi."
He took her hand and pulled her from the bar stool toward the dance floor. The music changed to a slow, pulsing beat, the lights dimming to a deep, intimate blue. He immediately closed the distance, pressing her body flush against his.
Shakti: "Come on, sweetheart. Let's see how well you move." Shakti: "Chalo, dilruba. Dekhte hain tum kitna achha move karti ho."
As they began to sway, Shakti's hand was not content with the small of her back. His fingers, strong and deliberate, slid down, tracing the curve of her hip, before moving up to cup the full weight of her right breast right over her dress. It was a brazen, possessive squeeze, executed with the subtle menace of a man who knew he would not be rejected. She let out a sharp, indrawn breath against his neck, her hands clutching his shoulders for balance, a silent, powerful surrender.
Woman: (Whispering, slightly breathless) "You are so bad." Woman: (Dheere se, saans ruk kar) "Aap bahut kharab ho."
Shakti tightened his hold on her, his smile a flash of white in the dark. He leaned down, his mouth just inches from hers, his voice a gravelly murmur.
Shakti: "Bad? I am a... criminal baby. Because I'm about to steal every thought from your mind except one." Shakti: "Kharab? Aaa-tenu... criminal bol. Kyunki main abhi tumhare dimag se har ek khayal churaane wala hoon, sirf ek ko chhodkar."
He didn't wait for a reply. His mouth descended, capturing hers in a deep, consuming kiss, a kiss that tasted of alcohol, danger, and the absolute certainty of what was about to follow. She melted against him, her tongue meeting his, the crowd and the music dissolving completely as he dominated the moment.
The music thumped, Shakti's grin, now fully unleashed, was a promise of pleasurable trouble. He had the woman's full attention, her initial caution melting into open desire under his intense gaze. His eyes were glued to the generous curve of her cleavage, and he made no attempt to hide his focus.
Shakti: "You know, babes, I see a lot of people in this room, all dressed up, all pretending to be proper. But you? You look like you're just waiting for someone to .....undress you." Shakti: "Tumhe pata hai, babes, main is kamre mein bahut logon ko dekhta hoon, sab taiyar, sab shareef banne ka natak kar rahe hain. Lekin tum? Tum lagti ho jaise bas kisi ka intezaar kar rahi ho jo aapko .....nanga kar de."
Her cheeks warmed, but her eyes held a challenge. She tilted her head, enjoying the electricity of his boldness.
Woman: "And what makes you think you're the one to see past the clothes, Mr. Kapoor?" Woman: "Aur aapko kya lagta hai ki aap hi woh hain jo kapdon ke peeche dekh sakte hain, Mr. Kapoor?"
Shakti leaned in, his voice dropping to a low, seductive rasp, his gaze never leaving the soft swell of her chest. He was in full villain mode now, charming, dangerous, and completely unavoidable.
Shakti: "Because I don't just see the clothes, jaan. I see the theft of clothes that's about to happen. And trust me, when I'm around, good girls go bad. Real bad." Shakti: "Kyunki main sirf kapde nahi dekhta, jaan. Main woh vastra haran dekhta hoon jo abhi hone wala hai. Aur mera vishwas karo, jab main aas-paas hota hoon, achhi ladkiyan kharab ho jaati hain. Bahut kharab."
He let out a short, wicked laugh. He then straightened up, adopting his iconic pose, the one that screamed confidence and impending chaos.
Shakti: "So, tell me, oh beauty. Are you ready for a night of aaoo?" Shakti: "Toh batao, sundari. Kya tum aaoo ki raat ke liye taiyar ho?"
She laughed, a genuine, delighted sound. The danger was delicious. She reached out and touched his forearm, her fingers tracing the leather of his jacket.
Woman: "Maybe. But you’ll have to convince me you’re worth the risk." Woman: "Ho sakta hai. Lekin aapko mujhe vishwas dilana hoga ki aap khatre ke layak hain."
Shakti: "Risk? I'm not a risk, cutie. I'm a certainty. The only gamble here is how fast you'll be asking me to take you home. Look at you. You have the kind of body that needs to be handled, not just looked at." Shakti: "Khatra? Main khatra nahi hoon, pyari. Main nishchitata (certainty) hoon. Yahaan ek hi jua hai ki tum kitni jaldi mujhe tumhe ghar le jaane ke liye kahogi. Tumhe dekho. Tumhara jism aisa hai jise sambhalna chahiye, sirf dekhna nahi."
He took her hand and pulled her from the bar stool toward the dance floor. The music changed to a slow, pulsing beat, the lights dimming to a deep, intimate blue. He immediately closed the distance, pressing her body flush against his.
Shakti: "Come on, sweetheart. Let's see how well you move." Shakti: "Chalo, dilruba. Dekhte hain tum kitna achha move karti ho."
As they began to sway, Shakti's hand was not content with the small of her back. His fingers, strong and deliberate, slid down, tracing the curve of her hip, before moving up to cup the full weight of her right breast right over her dress. It was a brazen, possessive squeeze, executed with the subtle menace of a man who knew he would not be rejected. She let out a sharp, indrawn breath against his neck, her hands clutching his shoulders for balance, a silent, powerful surrender.
Woman: (Whispering, slightly breathless) "You are so bad." Woman: (Dheere se, saans ruk kar) "Aap bahut kharab ho."
Shakti tightened his hold on her, his smile a flash of white in the dark. He leaned down, his mouth just inches from hers, his voice a gravelly murmur.
Shakti: "Bad? I am a... criminal baby. Because I'm about to steal every thought from your mind except one." Shakti: "Kharab? Aaa-tenu... criminal bol. Kyunki main abhi tumhare dimag se har ek khayal churaane wala hoon, sirf ek ko chhodkar."
He didn't wait for a reply. His mouth descended, capturing hers in a deep, consuming kiss, a kiss that tasted of alcohol, danger, and the absolute certainty of what was about to follow. She melted against him, her tongue meeting his, the crowd and the music dissolving completely as he dominated the moment.
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