21-12-2025, 07:47 PM
On a summer night, beneath a vast canopy of twinkling stars, Bharath and Gautham had set up a intimate celebration beside the shimmering swimming pool. A small table stood between two plush lounge couches, adorned with a freshly unboxed cake crowned by a sparkling candle. Soft tea-light candles flickered around them, casting a gentle, ambient glow in the cool breeze.
![[Image: bEQ4Y.jpg]](https://s12.gifyu.com/images/bEQ4Y.jpg)
Geetha approached and paused, taking in the scene.
"Light the candle," Gautham said softly.
Bharath flicked the lighter, igniting the sparkle candle. It burst into a brief shower of glittering sparks, lasting just three seconds, illuminating their faces with fleeting magic.
"Happy Birthday to you!" Gautham and Bharath sang in unison, clapping enthusiastically.
As Geetha sliced into the cake, she smiled wryly. "I don't know why we still do this cake-cutting like little kids."
"Happy Birthday, Miss," Bharath said with a grin.
Geetha picked up a piece of cake and fed it gently to Gautham. He took a small bite and, in turn, offered it back to her lips.
Then she turned to Bharath, holding out another piece. As he leaned in, guiding it toward her mouth, a mischievous smile spread across his face. Suddenly, he smeared the chocolate cream across her left cheek.
Geetha jerked her head back and forth, trying to dodge him, but a streak of cream clung stubbornly to her skin.
"Hey! This is exactly the kind of nonsense I hate, you dog!" she exclaimed, her tone playful despite the threat.
Undeterred, Bharath reached out again, teasingly adding a dab to her other cheek.
"It’s okay, Miss," he replied innocently.
"It’s getting wasted! Is cake meant for eating or for wearing like this?" She laughed, grabbing his hands to halt the mischief.
Gautham chuckled. "Hey, Bharath, that’s enough. Stop it."
"Okay, sir," Bharath agreed, feigning obedience.
But as Geetha relaxed, Bharath slipped behind her and traced a sneaky line of chocolate down her back with his finger. When he reached for her neck, she let out a mock shriek of horror and twisted away. The chase was on—they darted around the table, laughter echoing into the night.
"Don’t do crazy things, you mad dog!" Geetha called over her shoulder.
"Hey, wait, Miss!" Bharath retorted, grinning wildly.
Still giggling, Geetha ducked behind Gautham, using him as a human shield in their impromptu game of hide-and-seek.
"Stop it, that’s enough," Gautham said, though his voice carried amusement. He turned to glance at Geetha—and in that moment, swiftly smeared a dollop of cream across her forehead with a deep laugh.
Bharath burst into laughter. "Hahaha!"
"You too...?" Geetha gasped, her eyes widening in feigned betrayal.
"It's the Birthday Girl’s makeup!" Gautham declared.
"Exactly, exactly," Bharath echoed.
"Enough games," Geetha protested, though her smile betrayed her true enjoyment. "Let’s cut the cake properly and eat it."
She reached for a tissue to wipe her face, but Bharath was quicker. From behind, he seized both her wrists, gently pinning them behind her back and holding her playfully captive.
"Let go! What are you doing?" she demanded, squirming with a mix of laughter and exasperation.
"Sir, shall I tell you something?" Bharath asked Gautham conspiratorially.
Gautham raised an eyebrow. "Release her first. She’s saying she wants to eat the cake."
Bharath ignored the request. "Sir, first you must eat the cake that Miss gives you."
Geetha knew Bharath's wild ideas knew no bounds, and now he was drawing Gautham into the fun.
"Let go of me!" she insisted, struggling lightly.
Bharath leaned closer. "Sir, you have to give Miss a special birthday kiss today."
Geetha shot him an angry glance over her shoulder, puzzled by his boldness.
"Meaning?" Gautham asked, intrigued.
"Apply the cake to her lips and kiss it off."
"No way! All these crazy ideas are yours," Geetha shot back.
"Oh, keep quiet, Miss. You’ll like it, just watch."
Bharath released her hands but immediately wrapped his arms securely around her waist from behind, holding her in place.
Though Bharath's ultimate intentions remained playfully ambiguous, the suggestion stirred something in Gautham—an appealing spark that hung in the warm night air. Deep down, despite her protests, Geetha felt the thrill of their antics, the birthday turning into a night of unforgettable, lighthearted chaos.
Since our wedding day, I hadn’t seen Gautam this playful, this utterly relaxed. I had been terrified that confessing what had happened with Bharath would ignite fury in him, but I never imagined he would accept it so effortlessly, as though a hidden door inside him had swung open without protest.
I used to believe Bharath’s presence between us was a threat, a fracture waiting to widen. Yet now, watching the way everything unfolded, it felt less like intrusion and more like revelation—he was the spark that ignited desires I had buried deep, desires I had never dared name.
I knew, with a certainty that made my pulse race, that Gautam liked this: liked watching me surrender to Bharath right in front of him, liked seeing how Bharath shaped me, molded me, claimed me in ways that left me breathless. And God help me, I wanted more of it. When I was with Bharath, I could lose entire days in the heat of his kisses, the world narrowing to nothing but the press of his mouth and the low rumble of his voice.
He held me now, right there in front of Gautam, his strong hands squeezing my waist until my body felt weightless, suspended between possession and surrender. His lips found my neck, slow and deliberate, and then—bold as ever—he murmured to my husband, “Kiss her too, sir.”
I couldn’t fathom what was going through Gautam’s mind, but I loved every reckless thing Bharath did.
When Bharath suggested the kiss, Gautam cupped my face gently, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that sent a wave of shyness crashing over me. My husband, watching me while another man held me close—it was too much. I couldn’t meet his gaze.
Sensing my hesitation, Bharath caught my earring between his lips, tugging lightly, and whispered against my skin, “Look at him, Miss. Kiss him, Miss.”
I felt myself obeying before I even decided to. I always wanted to do whatever Bharath told me.
Gautam cradled my cheeks, staring straight into me, and pressed his lips to the smear of cream on my forehead, tasting it slowly. The restraint in me snapped; I leaned in and kissed the rough line of his beard.
He deepened the kiss immediately, capturing my lips. The sweet trace of chocolate on his mouth was warm, intoxicating. I clung to him, helpless.
As I stepped closer, Bharath moved with me, his arms tightening around me from behind until I was caught—truly caught—between them. I felt myself simmering, melting, dissolving into the heat.
Gautam grazed my neck, licking the cream from my cheeks with a hunger I’d never seen in him. At the same moment, Bharath’s lips closed on the right side of my neck, a gentle bite disguised as a kiss. A sharp jolt of pleasure shot through me; I moaned softly and kissed Gautam’s forehead in gratitude.
“Don’t stop, sir,” Bharath urged, voice low and commanding.
While Gautam’s tongue left wet trails across my skin, Bharath released me for a moment—only long enough to reach for the cake. A tremor of anticipation fluttered low in my belly. I knew something deliciously wicked was coming.
He returned, sliding behind me again. Gautam was showering my face with kisses like a man possessed, like he’d been starving for this version of me.
Bharath’s right hand stroked my neck, smearing cool cream that made me shiver. Gautam followed instantly, biting down gently as he “ate” the chocolate, his teeth grazing my skin. The sting drew a helpless “Ah…” from my throat; my fingers dug into his shoulders.
“This is a great idea, man,” Gautam murmured against my neck, his lips pressing harder, hungrier.
A hand settled on my left breast—Bharath’s—squeezing with raw passion. His thumb circled my nipple through the fabric, and my entire body sparked alive. Breath coming heavy and uneven, I surrendered completely to Gautam’s mouth.
Bharath painted my neck with more chocolate and honey; Gautam plunged through it like a bee drunk on nectar, licking, sucking, savoring. While Gautam devoured my neck, I felt cool cream sliding down my back—and then warm lips pressing between my shoulder blades. Bharath. The heat arrowed straight to my thighs. Trembling uncontrollably, I wrapped my arms around Gautam and held on.
He answered by gripping my right buttock firmly, possessively.
The wet trail of kisses moved lower. Bharath’s hand slipped beneath my throat, spreading cream just above my heart and dragging it upward in a slow, deliberate line. Gautam buried his face there without hesitation, kissing, licking, claiming.
“Sss… what is this madness?” I whispered, no longer sure how to react, how to breathe.
I could sense Gautam’s own conflict beneath the fervor, yet he was lost in it, reveling in it.
The left strap of my dress began to slip. I reached back instinctively, fingers threading into Bharath’s hair. Gautam caught my wrist, guided my hand away, and tugged the strap lower himself. He cupped my exposed breast, squeezed, and licked the cream from my skin with deliberate slowness.
“Oh, darling…” The words escaped as a gasp. I cradled his head, fighting the waves threatening to drown me.
Bharath coated his own lips with cream and claimed my mouth. I couldn’t stop him—didn’t want to. I opened for him, cooperating fully as he devoured my lips like they were melted chocolate.
While he fed on my mouth, my husband—transformed by a passion I had never witnessed—kneaded my breast like soft cake and lapped below my throat as though I were the sweetest candy he’d ever tasted.
My feet barely touched the floor. A slow, exquisite fire spread through every inch of me.
I held both their heads in my trembling hands, boiling in the furnace of their combined desire.
Gautam’s hands slid under my dress, stroking up my thighs with bold intent. Bharath answered by biting my shoulder, teeth grazing just hard enough to make me arch.
I couldn’t stop, couldn’t even moan properly—only shiver in delicious hesitation.
But then, suddenly, something inside me twisted. A flicker of wrongness amid the bliss.
With whatever strength I had left, I pushed them both away.
They stopped instantly.
They would understand.
Geetha’s brow furrowed, a flicker of unease crossing her face. It would be a problem if two men compete.
Gautam understood. He wiped a smear of chocolate from his lips with a stained tissue and settled onto the nearby couch, watching her with quiet amusement.
Bharath, however, had grown bolder in the glow of his supposed victory. The belief that Geetha belonged to him alone tonight had loosened whatever restraint he still possessed. He tightened his arm around her waist, possessive and unapologetic.
Geetha turned to her husband, eyes wide with disbelief. “What is this? Are you joining him in this too?”
Bharath smirked. “Looks like Sir is in a particularly generous mood with you tonight.”
Gautam’s voice was calm, laced with dry humor. “Just me? You’re seizing every chance simply because I gave you one.”
“I won the bet,” Bharath shot back. “That’s why Miss is with me now.”
Geetha twisted free of his grip, her tone sharp. “The bet was only to sleep beside you. Don’t twist the words.”
Bharath lifted his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. Anyway, the birthday is over. I’m heading upstairs. You two finish your chat. Miss, come find me when you’re ready to sleep.”
“Go,” Geetha said coolly.
As Bharath’s footsteps faded toward the stairs, Geetha dropped onto the couch beside Gautam. She saw the heat still simmering in her husband’s eyes and, with a small, knowing smile, slipped her hand inside his pajama, wrapping her fingers around him in a slow, deliberate stroke.
Gautam pressed a kiss to the curve of her shoulder. “What happened? Why did you stop him?”
“Otherwise the two of you would devour me alive,” she teased. “Have you no shame?”
She eased him free of the fabric, stroking him openly now. From the shadowed corridor that led toward the swimming pool, a low chuckle drifted back to them.
Bharath’s voice floated across the dim hall. “Miss, the cake’s right there. Smear some on Sir and lick it off.”
Geetha whipped her head toward the sound, glaring into the darkness with pretended fury. “Go away, you dog! Why are you spying on us?”
“I’m going,” Bharath called, laughter still in his tone.
But he did not go. He melted deeper into the shadows, silent and watchful.
Believing themselves alone again, Gautam drew Geetha closer by the waist.
“No…” she murmured half-heartedly.
“Not for that,” he assured her softly.
With his free hand he pulled the side table nearer, scooped a dollop of rich chocolate cream from the remnants of the cake, and traced it along the delicate hollow of her neck, just above where her mangalsutra lay nestled between her breasts. Then he lowered his mouth to her skin and licked the sweetness away—slow, deliberate, reverent.
Geetha shivered. “Ugh… he’s passed his madness on to you too.”
Gautam hummed against her throat. “Mm… the cake tastes better this way, doesn’t it?”
“Of course it does,” she whispered, “especially when you do such crazy things.”
When the last trace of chocolate was gone, he lifted his head, met her eyes, and drew a folded sheet of paper from his pocket.
“Do you know what this is?”
“Tell me.”
“My resignation. I’m leaving the job here.”
Her breath caught. “Really?”
“Yes. I’m coming back with you.”
Joy flooded her face. She cupped his cheeks and rained quick, grateful kisses across his lips, his jaw, his brow. “Thank you… thank you…”
Gautam’s voice turned low, commanding. “Get on your knees.”
Without hesitation, Geetha sank to the tiled edge of the pool. Gautam rose, offering himself to her. She took him into her mouth eagerly, eyes fluttering shut as she pleased him.
He went on, voice steady despite the pleasure building in him. “My father is registering five acres in the village under my name. Bamboo plantation. There’s a factory near the Bommakal bypass in Karimnagar—bamboo fabric products.”
She made a soft sound of acknowledgment around him.
![[Image: bE6a2.gif]](https://s12.gifyu.com/images/bE6a2.gif)
“We’ll shift from Hyderabad to Karimnagar.”
Another hum of agreement.
“After these four days, you leave Bharath.”
“Mmm…”
He eased back for a moment. Geetha wiped her lips with the back of her hand, looking up at him.
“Don’t just hum,” he said gently. “Say it.”
“I will leave him,” she promised, then took him deep again.
“Once we’re in Karimnagar, he won’t be able to reach you anyway.”
She could only moan in response.
Gautam’s breath hitched. “Ahhh…”
He spilled into her mouth with a low groan. Geetha pulled away swiftly and spat into the dark, rippling water of the pool.
He tucked himself back into his pajama and sat, breathing hard. Geetha wiped her mouth, then climbed onto his lap, laughing softly.
“Uncle is certainly in a mood tonight.”
He pinched her waist in playful retaliation. She squealed and squirmed.
His phone buzzed on the table. Gautam glanced at the screen. “Go to sleep,” he told her.
“You go to sleep,” she countered. “He probably won’t let me rest anyway.”
“You’ve lost every last shred of shyness, haven’t you?” He shook his head, smiling, and answered the call.
Geetha stood, smoothed her dress, pressed a final kiss to his cheek, and picked up her phone. She padded into the house, crossing the dimly lit corridor—when suddenly strong arms seized her from the shadows.
She gasped. “Ah! You haven’t gone yet?”
Bharath grinned against her ear. “I was waiting. Why didn’t you bring the cake?”
“The cake? Why?”
“I want to smear it on you and lick it off too.”
“You mad dog,” she hissed, though there was laughter beneath it. “I don’t want any of that. Let me sleep.”
“Miss, go get the cake.”
“No. You go get it.”
“No—you.”
She sighed theatrically. “Fine. Wait here.”
She handed him her phone and turned back toward the hall. Gautam was still on his call, gesturing as he spoke. Geetha quietly lifted the remains of the chocolate cake from the table and carried it back to the waiting shadow in the corridor.
Geetha approached and paused, taking in the scene.
"Light the candle," Gautham said softly.
Bharath flicked the lighter, igniting the sparkle candle. It burst into a brief shower of glittering sparks, lasting just three seconds, illuminating their faces with fleeting magic.
"Happy Birthday to you!" Gautham and Bharath sang in unison, clapping enthusiastically.
As Geetha sliced into the cake, she smiled wryly. "I don't know why we still do this cake-cutting like little kids."
"Happy Birthday, Miss," Bharath said with a grin.
Geetha picked up a piece of cake and fed it gently to Gautham. He took a small bite and, in turn, offered it back to her lips.
Then she turned to Bharath, holding out another piece. As he leaned in, guiding it toward her mouth, a mischievous smile spread across his face. Suddenly, he smeared the chocolate cream across her left cheek.
Geetha jerked her head back and forth, trying to dodge him, but a streak of cream clung stubbornly to her skin.
"Hey! This is exactly the kind of nonsense I hate, you dog!" she exclaimed, her tone playful despite the threat.
Undeterred, Bharath reached out again, teasingly adding a dab to her other cheek.
"It’s okay, Miss," he replied innocently.
"It’s getting wasted! Is cake meant for eating or for wearing like this?" She laughed, grabbing his hands to halt the mischief.
Gautham chuckled. "Hey, Bharath, that’s enough. Stop it."
"Okay, sir," Bharath agreed, feigning obedience.
But as Geetha relaxed, Bharath slipped behind her and traced a sneaky line of chocolate down her back with his finger. When he reached for her neck, she let out a mock shriek of horror and twisted away. The chase was on—they darted around the table, laughter echoing into the night.
"Don’t do crazy things, you mad dog!" Geetha called over her shoulder.
"Hey, wait, Miss!" Bharath retorted, grinning wildly.
Still giggling, Geetha ducked behind Gautham, using him as a human shield in their impromptu game of hide-and-seek.
"Stop it, that’s enough," Gautham said, though his voice carried amusement. He turned to glance at Geetha—and in that moment, swiftly smeared a dollop of cream across her forehead with a deep laugh.
Bharath burst into laughter. "Hahaha!"
"You too...?" Geetha gasped, her eyes widening in feigned betrayal.
"It's the Birthday Girl’s makeup!" Gautham declared.
"Exactly, exactly," Bharath echoed.
"Enough games," Geetha protested, though her smile betrayed her true enjoyment. "Let’s cut the cake properly and eat it."
She reached for a tissue to wipe her face, but Bharath was quicker. From behind, he seized both her wrists, gently pinning them behind her back and holding her playfully captive.
"Let go! What are you doing?" she demanded, squirming with a mix of laughter and exasperation.
"Sir, shall I tell you something?" Bharath asked Gautham conspiratorially.
Gautham raised an eyebrow. "Release her first. She’s saying she wants to eat the cake."
Bharath ignored the request. "Sir, first you must eat the cake that Miss gives you."
Geetha knew Bharath's wild ideas knew no bounds, and now he was drawing Gautham into the fun.
"Let go of me!" she insisted, struggling lightly.
Bharath leaned closer. "Sir, you have to give Miss a special birthday kiss today."
Geetha shot him an angry glance over her shoulder, puzzled by his boldness.
"Meaning?" Gautham asked, intrigued.
"Apply the cake to her lips and kiss it off."
"No way! All these crazy ideas are yours," Geetha shot back.
"Oh, keep quiet, Miss. You’ll like it, just watch."
Bharath released her hands but immediately wrapped his arms securely around her waist from behind, holding her in place.
Though Bharath's ultimate intentions remained playfully ambiguous, the suggestion stirred something in Gautham—an appealing spark that hung in the warm night air. Deep down, despite her protests, Geetha felt the thrill of their antics, the birthday turning into a night of unforgettable, lighthearted chaos.
Since our wedding day, I hadn’t seen Gautam this playful, this utterly relaxed. I had been terrified that confessing what had happened with Bharath would ignite fury in him, but I never imagined he would accept it so effortlessly, as though a hidden door inside him had swung open without protest.
I used to believe Bharath’s presence between us was a threat, a fracture waiting to widen. Yet now, watching the way everything unfolded, it felt less like intrusion and more like revelation—he was the spark that ignited desires I had buried deep, desires I had never dared name.
I knew, with a certainty that made my pulse race, that Gautam liked this: liked watching me surrender to Bharath right in front of him, liked seeing how Bharath shaped me, molded me, claimed me in ways that left me breathless. And God help me, I wanted more of it. When I was with Bharath, I could lose entire days in the heat of his kisses, the world narrowing to nothing but the press of his mouth and the low rumble of his voice.
He held me now, right there in front of Gautam, his strong hands squeezing my waist until my body felt weightless, suspended between possession and surrender. His lips found my neck, slow and deliberate, and then—bold as ever—he murmured to my husband, “Kiss her too, sir.”
I couldn’t fathom what was going through Gautam’s mind, but I loved every reckless thing Bharath did.
When Bharath suggested the kiss, Gautam cupped my face gently, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that sent a wave of shyness crashing over me. My husband, watching me while another man held me close—it was too much. I couldn’t meet his gaze.
Sensing my hesitation, Bharath caught my earring between his lips, tugging lightly, and whispered against my skin, “Look at him, Miss. Kiss him, Miss.”
I felt myself obeying before I even decided to. I always wanted to do whatever Bharath told me.
Gautam cradled my cheeks, staring straight into me, and pressed his lips to the smear of cream on my forehead, tasting it slowly. The restraint in me snapped; I leaned in and kissed the rough line of his beard.
He deepened the kiss immediately, capturing my lips. The sweet trace of chocolate on his mouth was warm, intoxicating. I clung to him, helpless.
As I stepped closer, Bharath moved with me, his arms tightening around me from behind until I was caught—truly caught—between them. I felt myself simmering, melting, dissolving into the heat.
Gautam grazed my neck, licking the cream from my cheeks with a hunger I’d never seen in him. At the same moment, Bharath’s lips closed on the right side of my neck, a gentle bite disguised as a kiss. A sharp jolt of pleasure shot through me; I moaned softly and kissed Gautam’s forehead in gratitude.
“Don’t stop, sir,” Bharath urged, voice low and commanding.
While Gautam’s tongue left wet trails across my skin, Bharath released me for a moment—only long enough to reach for the cake. A tremor of anticipation fluttered low in my belly. I knew something deliciously wicked was coming.
He returned, sliding behind me again. Gautam was showering my face with kisses like a man possessed, like he’d been starving for this version of me.
Bharath’s right hand stroked my neck, smearing cool cream that made me shiver. Gautam followed instantly, biting down gently as he “ate” the chocolate, his teeth grazing my skin. The sting drew a helpless “Ah…” from my throat; my fingers dug into his shoulders.
“This is a great idea, man,” Gautam murmured against my neck, his lips pressing harder, hungrier.
A hand settled on my left breast—Bharath’s—squeezing with raw passion. His thumb circled my nipple through the fabric, and my entire body sparked alive. Breath coming heavy and uneven, I surrendered completely to Gautam’s mouth.
Bharath painted my neck with more chocolate and honey; Gautam plunged through it like a bee drunk on nectar, licking, sucking, savoring. While Gautam devoured my neck, I felt cool cream sliding down my back—and then warm lips pressing between my shoulder blades. Bharath. The heat arrowed straight to my thighs. Trembling uncontrollably, I wrapped my arms around Gautam and held on.
He answered by gripping my right buttock firmly, possessively.
The wet trail of kisses moved lower. Bharath’s hand slipped beneath my throat, spreading cream just above my heart and dragging it upward in a slow, deliberate line. Gautam buried his face there without hesitation, kissing, licking, claiming.
“Sss… what is this madness?” I whispered, no longer sure how to react, how to breathe.
I could sense Gautam’s own conflict beneath the fervor, yet he was lost in it, reveling in it.
The left strap of my dress began to slip. I reached back instinctively, fingers threading into Bharath’s hair. Gautam caught my wrist, guided my hand away, and tugged the strap lower himself. He cupped my exposed breast, squeezed, and licked the cream from my skin with deliberate slowness.
“Oh, darling…” The words escaped as a gasp. I cradled his head, fighting the waves threatening to drown me.
Bharath coated his own lips with cream and claimed my mouth. I couldn’t stop him—didn’t want to. I opened for him, cooperating fully as he devoured my lips like they were melted chocolate.
While he fed on my mouth, my husband—transformed by a passion I had never witnessed—kneaded my breast like soft cake and lapped below my throat as though I were the sweetest candy he’d ever tasted.
My feet barely touched the floor. A slow, exquisite fire spread through every inch of me.
I held both their heads in my trembling hands, boiling in the furnace of their combined desire.
Gautam’s hands slid under my dress, stroking up my thighs with bold intent. Bharath answered by biting my shoulder, teeth grazing just hard enough to make me arch.
I couldn’t stop, couldn’t even moan properly—only shiver in delicious hesitation.
But then, suddenly, something inside me twisted. A flicker of wrongness amid the bliss.
With whatever strength I had left, I pushed them both away.
They stopped instantly.
They would understand.
Geetha’s brow furrowed, a flicker of unease crossing her face. It would be a problem if two men compete.
Gautam understood. He wiped a smear of chocolate from his lips with a stained tissue and settled onto the nearby couch, watching her with quiet amusement.
Bharath, however, had grown bolder in the glow of his supposed victory. The belief that Geetha belonged to him alone tonight had loosened whatever restraint he still possessed. He tightened his arm around her waist, possessive and unapologetic.
Geetha turned to her husband, eyes wide with disbelief. “What is this? Are you joining him in this too?”
Bharath smirked. “Looks like Sir is in a particularly generous mood with you tonight.”
Gautam’s voice was calm, laced with dry humor. “Just me? You’re seizing every chance simply because I gave you one.”
“I won the bet,” Bharath shot back. “That’s why Miss is with me now.”
Geetha twisted free of his grip, her tone sharp. “The bet was only to sleep beside you. Don’t twist the words.”
Bharath lifted his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. Anyway, the birthday is over. I’m heading upstairs. You two finish your chat. Miss, come find me when you’re ready to sleep.”
“Go,” Geetha said coolly.
As Bharath’s footsteps faded toward the stairs, Geetha dropped onto the couch beside Gautam. She saw the heat still simmering in her husband’s eyes and, with a small, knowing smile, slipped her hand inside his pajama, wrapping her fingers around him in a slow, deliberate stroke.
Gautam pressed a kiss to the curve of her shoulder. “What happened? Why did you stop him?”
“Otherwise the two of you would devour me alive,” she teased. “Have you no shame?”
She eased him free of the fabric, stroking him openly now. From the shadowed corridor that led toward the swimming pool, a low chuckle drifted back to them.
Bharath’s voice floated across the dim hall. “Miss, the cake’s right there. Smear some on Sir and lick it off.”
Geetha whipped her head toward the sound, glaring into the darkness with pretended fury. “Go away, you dog! Why are you spying on us?”
“I’m going,” Bharath called, laughter still in his tone.
But he did not go. He melted deeper into the shadows, silent and watchful.
Believing themselves alone again, Gautam drew Geetha closer by the waist.
“No…” she murmured half-heartedly.
“Not for that,” he assured her softly.
With his free hand he pulled the side table nearer, scooped a dollop of rich chocolate cream from the remnants of the cake, and traced it along the delicate hollow of her neck, just above where her mangalsutra lay nestled between her breasts. Then he lowered his mouth to her skin and licked the sweetness away—slow, deliberate, reverent.
Geetha shivered. “Ugh… he’s passed his madness on to you too.”
Gautam hummed against her throat. “Mm… the cake tastes better this way, doesn’t it?”
“Of course it does,” she whispered, “especially when you do such crazy things.”
When the last trace of chocolate was gone, he lifted his head, met her eyes, and drew a folded sheet of paper from his pocket.
“Do you know what this is?”
“Tell me.”
“My resignation. I’m leaving the job here.”
Her breath caught. “Really?”
“Yes. I’m coming back with you.”
Joy flooded her face. She cupped his cheeks and rained quick, grateful kisses across his lips, his jaw, his brow. “Thank you… thank you…”
Gautam’s voice turned low, commanding. “Get on your knees.”
Without hesitation, Geetha sank to the tiled edge of the pool. Gautam rose, offering himself to her. She took him into her mouth eagerly, eyes fluttering shut as she pleased him.
He went on, voice steady despite the pleasure building in him. “My father is registering five acres in the village under my name. Bamboo plantation. There’s a factory near the Bommakal bypass in Karimnagar—bamboo fabric products.”
She made a soft sound of acknowledgment around him.
“We’ll shift from Hyderabad to Karimnagar.”
Another hum of agreement.
“After these four days, you leave Bharath.”
“Mmm…”
He eased back for a moment. Geetha wiped her lips with the back of her hand, looking up at him.
“Don’t just hum,” he said gently. “Say it.”
“I will leave him,” she promised, then took him deep again.
“Once we’re in Karimnagar, he won’t be able to reach you anyway.”
She could only moan in response.
Gautam’s breath hitched. “Ahhh…”
He spilled into her mouth with a low groan. Geetha pulled away swiftly and spat into the dark, rippling water of the pool.
He tucked himself back into his pajama and sat, breathing hard. Geetha wiped her mouth, then climbed onto his lap, laughing softly.
“Uncle is certainly in a mood tonight.”
He pinched her waist in playful retaliation. She squealed and squirmed.
His phone buzzed on the table. Gautam glanced at the screen. “Go to sleep,” he told her.
“You go to sleep,” she countered. “He probably won’t let me rest anyway.”
“You’ve lost every last shred of shyness, haven’t you?” He shook his head, smiling, and answered the call.
Geetha stood, smoothed her dress, pressed a final kiss to his cheek, and picked up her phone. She padded into the house, crossing the dimly lit corridor—when suddenly strong arms seized her from the shadows.
She gasped. “Ah! You haven’t gone yet?”
Bharath grinned against her ear. “I was waiting. Why didn’t you bring the cake?”
“The cake? Why?”
“I want to smear it on you and lick it off too.”
“You mad dog,” she hissed, though there was laughter beneath it. “I don’t want any of that. Let me sleep.”
“Miss, go get the cake.”
“No. You go get it.”
“No—you.”
She sighed theatrically. “Fine. Wait here.”
She handed him her phone and turned back toward the hall. Gautam was still on his call, gesturing as he spoke. Geetha quietly lifted the remains of the chocolate cake from the table and carried it back to the waiting shadow in the corridor.
![[+]](https://xossipy.com/themes/sharepoint/collapse_collapsed.png)