9 hours ago
(This post was last modified: 8 hours ago by heygiwriter. Edited 1 time in total. Edited 1 time in total.)
Chapter 7 – Prakash unleashes his plan. Nivi trapped.
Prakash reached the apartment earlier than usual, pulse quickening as he turned the key.
The living room was dim, late afternoon light filtering through the curtains. Nivi sat on the sofa, looking exhausted — eyes red from improper sleep and crying for almost a month now, fair skin pale, saree slightly wrinkled from the day.
She looked up, startled. “Prakash? You’re home early.”
He smiled softly, closing the door behind him.
“Yeah, early off. Prem’s out on that client meet with Pratap sir.
Thought I’d check on you. You two still not talking?”
Nivi sighed, shoulders slumping. “It’s been weeks.”
He sat beside her — not too close at first.
“If you trust me as a friend… tell me what’s going on. Maybe I can help.”
She hesitated, then opened up. “It’s everything. The lie about the job. The fight.
He brought up Aaravind again — that name hurts so much. Like I asked for it.”
Prakash puzzled who is Aravind..
Nivi hesitated then told.. Aravind was someone who was her friend but tried to abuse her friendship by misbehaving with her and prem saved her..
Prakash decided to use his manipulation skills..
Prakash nodded, voice gentle. “Aaravind was a monster. But Prem… he’s letting old fears control him. You’ve been so strong — adapted to this life, gave up everything for him. He should trust you, appreciate you. Not punish you for one mistake.”
Nivi’s eyes welled up. “I know. But he won’t let it go.”
Prakash shifted closer, hand resting lightly on her shoulder. “It’s okay. Cry if you need to.”
His fingers caressed her back slowly, tracing the curve through her blouse.
Nivi felt something off — the touch lingering too long.
She stood abruptly, moving to the arm of the sofa. “I… I’m okay. Thanks.”
Prakash hid his frustration, smiled. “You look tired. Let me make fresh juice — bought fruits yesterday. It’ll help.”
She nodded politely, but alarm bells rang. After Aaravind, after Rakesh — she trusted no man alone.
Prakash went to the kitchen, blended the juice — and crushed a sleeping pill into her glass when she wasn’t looking.
He brought it back. “Drink. You’ll feel better.”
She took it, pretended to sip. “Actually… sudden headache. I don’t want juice.”
Prakash pulled a pill from his pocket. “Here, headache tablet. Take it.”
She “swallowed” it, palmed it, spat it into her hand when he turned.
They talked for 15 minutes — Prakash probing gently. “Prem doesn’t see how lucky he is. A woman like you — fair, beautiful, devoted. You deserve to be cherished, not doubted.”
Nivi felt uneasy, head spinning from stress and skipped meals. “I’m… really tired. Going to lie down in the bedroom.”
She stood, but the world tilted — exhaustion, low blood sugar, something deeper she didn’t know yet.
Her legs buckled.
She fainted, collapsing back onto the sofa.
Prakash’s eyes lit up.
The pill worked fast.
He scooped her up in his arms — her body limp, soft, and warm against his chest, the weight of her curves pressing into him. Her fair skin glowed even in the dim light, smooth and flawless, saree slipping slightly from her shoulder as he lifted her, revealing the gentle swell of her breast at the blouse neckline.
Prakash’s heart hammered, breath shallow. Finally. Alone. Mine.
He carried her to the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him. Laid her gently on the bed, her long hair fanning out on the pillow, lips parted, chest rising and falling in slow, unconscious breaths.
He closed the bedroom door — click — the sound loud in the silence.
Stood there a moment, staring.
Then undressed slowly, deliberately — shirt unbuttoned one by one, tossed aside. Pants slid down, briefs last.
His cock sprang free, already hard, throbbing with need, tip glistening.
He climbed over her carefully, straddling her hips without putting weight, knees on either side.
Started slow. Teasing himself as much as her unconscious form.
Leaned down, kissed her forehead tenderly — inhaling her scent, clean soap and faint jasmine from her hair.
Then cheeks — soft, warm, fair skin like silk under his lips.
Neck next — open-mouthed kisses, tongue tracing the curve, tasting her pulse point. He lingered there, sucking lightly, imagining leaving a mark.
Hands moved to her pallu, easing it away inch by inch, fabric whispering as it fell aside.
Blouse revealed — thin cotton stretched tight over her full breasts.
He kissed the valley between them, tongue tracing the line where skin met fabric, breathing her in.
Hands cupped her breasts over the bra — white cotton, straining, nipples already faintly visible through the material.
He squeezed gently at first, feeling the softness, the weight.
Then harder — pressing, kneading, thumbs circling where her nipples hardened under the cloth.
So soft. So perfect. Made for this.
He pulled one breast free — tugging the bra cup down slowly, exposing her dark nipple to the air.
Kissed it immediately — lips closing around, sucking slow and deep, tongue flicking.
Pressed harder, mouth greedy now, teeth grazing lightly.
She moaned softly in her "sleep" — unconscious sound that drove him wild.
Down her stomach — kisses trailing, licks over her navel, hands sliding petticoat up her thighs, inch by inch, revealing smooth, fair skin.
Petticoat untied, slipped off completely.
Panty last — simple cotton, hugging her mound, faint outline of her lips beneath.
He kissed over it — nose pressed to the fabric, inhaling deep, her intimate scent filling him.
Tongue pressing against the cotton, tracing her slit through it, tasting the dampness seeping through.
Soon. So soon.
His cock throbbed against her thigh, leaking.
He was lost in it — teasing, savoring, believing the pill had her deep under.
The moment he hooked fingers into her panty waistband, ready to pull it down and finally enter her...
Prakash sensed something else?.... something off...
Prakash reached the apartment earlier than usual, pulse quickening as he turned the key.
The living room was dim, late afternoon light filtering through the curtains. Nivi sat on the sofa, looking exhausted — eyes red from improper sleep and crying for almost a month now, fair skin pale, saree slightly wrinkled from the day.
She looked up, startled. “Prakash? You’re home early.”
He smiled softly, closing the door behind him.
“Yeah, early off. Prem’s out on that client meet with Pratap sir.
Thought I’d check on you. You two still not talking?”
Nivi sighed, shoulders slumping. “It’s been weeks.”
He sat beside her — not too close at first.
“If you trust me as a friend… tell me what’s going on. Maybe I can help.”
She hesitated, then opened up. “It’s everything. The lie about the job. The fight.
He brought up Aaravind again — that name hurts so much. Like I asked for it.”
Prakash puzzled who is Aravind..
Nivi hesitated then told.. Aravind was someone who was her friend but tried to abuse her friendship by misbehaving with her and prem saved her..
Prakash decided to use his manipulation skills..
Prakash nodded, voice gentle. “Aaravind was a monster. But Prem… he’s letting old fears control him. You’ve been so strong — adapted to this life, gave up everything for him. He should trust you, appreciate you. Not punish you for one mistake.”
Nivi’s eyes welled up. “I know. But he won’t let it go.”
Prakash shifted closer, hand resting lightly on her shoulder. “It’s okay. Cry if you need to.”
His fingers caressed her back slowly, tracing the curve through her blouse.
Nivi felt something off — the touch lingering too long.
She stood abruptly, moving to the arm of the sofa. “I… I’m okay. Thanks.”
Prakash hid his frustration, smiled. “You look tired. Let me make fresh juice — bought fruits yesterday. It’ll help.”
She nodded politely, but alarm bells rang. After Aaravind, after Rakesh — she trusted no man alone.
Prakash went to the kitchen, blended the juice — and crushed a sleeping pill into her glass when she wasn’t looking.
He brought it back. “Drink. You’ll feel better.”
She took it, pretended to sip. “Actually… sudden headache. I don’t want juice.”
Prakash pulled a pill from his pocket. “Here, headache tablet. Take it.”
She “swallowed” it, palmed it, spat it into her hand when he turned.
They talked for 15 minutes — Prakash probing gently. “Prem doesn’t see how lucky he is. A woman like you — fair, beautiful, devoted. You deserve to be cherished, not doubted.”
Nivi felt uneasy, head spinning from stress and skipped meals. “I’m… really tired. Going to lie down in the bedroom.”
She stood, but the world tilted — exhaustion, low blood sugar, something deeper she didn’t know yet.
Her legs buckled.
She fainted, collapsing back onto the sofa.
Prakash’s eyes lit up.
The pill worked fast.
He scooped her up in his arms — her body limp, soft, and warm against his chest, the weight of her curves pressing into him. Her fair skin glowed even in the dim light, smooth and flawless, saree slipping slightly from her shoulder as he lifted her, revealing the gentle swell of her breast at the blouse neckline.
Prakash’s heart hammered, breath shallow. Finally. Alone. Mine.
He carried her to the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him. Laid her gently on the bed, her long hair fanning out on the pillow, lips parted, chest rising and falling in slow, unconscious breaths.
He closed the bedroom door — click — the sound loud in the silence.
Stood there a moment, staring.
Then undressed slowly, deliberately — shirt unbuttoned one by one, tossed aside. Pants slid down, briefs last.
His cock sprang free, already hard, throbbing with need, tip glistening.
He climbed over her carefully, straddling her hips without putting weight, knees on either side.
Started slow. Teasing himself as much as her unconscious form.
Leaned down, kissed her forehead tenderly — inhaling her scent, clean soap and faint jasmine from her hair.
Then cheeks — soft, warm, fair skin like silk under his lips.
Neck next — open-mouthed kisses, tongue tracing the curve, tasting her pulse point. He lingered there, sucking lightly, imagining leaving a mark.
Hands moved to her pallu, easing it away inch by inch, fabric whispering as it fell aside.
Blouse revealed — thin cotton stretched tight over her full breasts.
He kissed the valley between them, tongue tracing the line where skin met fabric, breathing her in.
Hands cupped her breasts over the bra — white cotton, straining, nipples already faintly visible through the material.
He squeezed gently at first, feeling the softness, the weight.
Then harder — pressing, kneading, thumbs circling where her nipples hardened under the cloth.
So soft. So perfect. Made for this.
He pulled one breast free — tugging the bra cup down slowly, exposing her dark nipple to the air.
Kissed it immediately — lips closing around, sucking slow and deep, tongue flicking.
Pressed harder, mouth greedy now, teeth grazing lightly.
She moaned softly in her "sleep" — unconscious sound that drove him wild.
Down her stomach — kisses trailing, licks over her navel, hands sliding petticoat up her thighs, inch by inch, revealing smooth, fair skin.
Petticoat untied, slipped off completely.
Panty last — simple cotton, hugging her mound, faint outline of her lips beneath.
He kissed over it — nose pressed to the fabric, inhaling deep, her intimate scent filling him.
Tongue pressing against the cotton, tracing her slit through it, tasting the dampness seeping through.
Soon. So soon.
His cock throbbed against her thigh, leaking.
He was lost in it — teasing, savoring, believing the pill had her deep under.
The moment he hooked fingers into her panty waistband, ready to pull it down and finally enter her...
Prakash sensed something else?.... something off...
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