09-02-2026, 12:01 AM
Chapter 76 - THE HOTTEST KISSSS
Mirnaa realized his hands were roaming — slow, gentle circles on her lower back, then drifting lower, tracing the curve of her spine. She thought — maybe for comfort — and let it happen. She didn’t pull away.
But as the hug deepened, her breasts slowly withdrew from full contact with his chest — just enough to create a sliver of space between them.
Bharath felt the unease kick in her — the subtle shift, the slight tension in her shoulders.
He decided not to let the momentum drop.
Suddenly — he screamed — a raw, broken sound that tore from his throat.
Mirnaa panicked.
She pulled his head into her embrace — arms tightening, her body pressing fully against him again.
Her breasts crushed against his chest once more — soft, warm, yielding. Her heartbeat hammered against his ribs.
Vikram — listening through the AirPod — heard only the sudden cry, the rustle of fabric, Mirnaa’s sharp intake of breath.
He didn’t know what was happening.
He only heard the sounds.
Bharath’s breath came heavy — ragged, uncontrollable rage (staged perfectly). His body shook against hers.
Mirnaa left her fear behind.
She leaned in — trembling — and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead.
Nothing.
He turned his head — avoiding, still sobbing.
She kissed his cheek — soft, lingering.
Nothing.
His pulse hardened — thundering against her palm.
Then — chin.
Nothing.
Mirnaa exhaled long — shaky.
She leaned in — and patted a kiss on his lips. Brief. Tender.
Bharath’s hands moved fast.
He caught her face — fingers firm on her jaw, thumb brushing her lower lip.
His eyes opened — dark, hungry.
“No,” he whispered.
“This is wrong… but I know it’s comfort.” Mirnaa’s breath hitched.
Before she could speak — he leaned in and sucked her mouth into his.
The kiss was deep — sudden, consuming. His tongue pushed past her lips — tasting her, claiming her. He sucked slow — deliberate — pulling her lower lip between his teeth, then releasing it with a wet pop. His hands slid to the back of her head — fingers threading through her hair — tilting her face so he could go deeper.
Mirnaa was shocked — surprised — but something inside her whispered: This is where he surrendered. Let it be.
She closed her eyes.
Her hands — still on his shoulders — tightened. She kissed back — hesitant at first,
then deeper — tongues sliding, breaths mingling, soft moans swallowed between them.
Bharath’s voice was hoarse.
“Thanks… for the comfort.”
Mirnaa was terrorized — stunned. She wasn’t sure what she had just done.
Right or wrong? Her lips tingled. Her body felt hot — flushed — guilty.
Yet she felt good — for helping him.
They sat looking at each other for a few minutes — breathing heavy, eyes locked.
Bharath then said — calculatedly — voice soft:
“It’s enough. Vikram will be waiting. Please go.”
Mirnaa nodded — dazed.
Vikram — upstairs — smiled. He decided to cut the call. He delved deep into business issues on his mobile — satisfied.
Bharath stood — pacing the room, wiping his face (glycerin gone).
He turned back — calling for one more hug.
Mirnaa stepped in.
His arms wrapped tight — promising, possessive.
“I won’t look back,” he whispered against her ear. “If this is what you want… you had it with your comfort.”
Her smile bloomed — warm, relieved.
He caught her face again.
“I’ve got someone to lean on,” he said — and pressed his lips to hers.
This kiss was longer — hungrier than before.
Five minutes. Deep. Tongue-to-tongue. Sucking slow. Wet sounds filled the room — saliva sliding, lips smacking softly, tongues licking, exploring. He tilted her head back — deepening it — one hand sliding to the nape of her neck, the other resting just under the swell of her breast — thumb brushing the side curve again.
Glad Vikram didn’t hear it.
Mirnaa lost herself — thoughts swirling — until he broke it — soft.
“Thanks.”
She was stunned — what happened all of a sudden? Did she cross a thin line she didn’t know?
She moved to leave.
But he caught her hand.
“I won’t cross limits — let’s be good friends. When I need comfort… I’ll tell you. Thanks for all.”
She could not react.
She left.
Upstairs, Vikram was deeply involved in his mobile — reviewing Dubai papers.
Mirnaa came in silently.
She wanted to speak about it — the kisses, the heat, the guilt.
But he was busy.
She slipped under the covers — back to him — and slept waiting for Vikram.
Her lips still tingled.
And somewhere deep — she was unsure about telling this to vikram or hide it.
Mirnaa realized his hands were roaming — slow, gentle circles on her lower back, then drifting lower, tracing the curve of her spine. She thought — maybe for comfort — and let it happen. She didn’t pull away.
But as the hug deepened, her breasts slowly withdrew from full contact with his chest — just enough to create a sliver of space between them.
Bharath felt the unease kick in her — the subtle shift, the slight tension in her shoulders.
He decided not to let the momentum drop.
Suddenly — he screamed — a raw, broken sound that tore from his throat.
Mirnaa panicked.
She pulled his head into her embrace — arms tightening, her body pressing fully against him again.
Her breasts crushed against his chest once more — soft, warm, yielding. Her heartbeat hammered against his ribs.
Vikram — listening through the AirPod — heard only the sudden cry, the rustle of fabric, Mirnaa’s sharp intake of breath.
He didn’t know what was happening.
He only heard the sounds.
Vikram’s voice came through — urgent, low.
“Mirnaa… kiss him. He will surrender.”
Mirnaa froze — stunned. She coughed once — sharp, instinctive.
Vikram repeated — firm.
“I said kiss. He will surrender.”
He continued — guiding.“First on forehead. Then cheek. Chin. Like that his emotions will get controlled in any one of it. Control his emotions.”
Bharath’s breath came heavy — ragged, uncontrollable rage (staged perfectly). His body shook against hers.
Mirnaa left her fear behind.
She leaned in — trembling — and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead.
Nothing.
He turned his head — avoiding, still sobbing.
She kissed his cheek — soft, lingering.
Nothing.
His pulse hardened — thundering against her palm.
Then — chin.
Nothing.
Vikram’s voice came again — insistent.
“Did you kiss or not? Kiss him and tell it’s to comfort him.”
Mirnaa exhaled long — shaky.
She finally said — barely audible:
“Mmm…”
She leaned in — and patted a kiss on his lips. Brief. Tender.
Bharath’s hands moved fast.
He caught her face — fingers firm on her jaw, thumb brushing her lower lip.
His eyes opened — dark, hungry.
“No,” he whispered.
“This is wrong… but I know it’s comfort.” Mirnaa’s breath hitched.
Before she could speak — he leaned in and sucked her mouth into his.
The kiss was deep — sudden, consuming. His tongue pushed past her lips — tasting her, claiming her. He sucked slow — deliberate — pulling her lower lip between his teeth, then releasing it with a wet pop. His hands slid to the back of her head — fingers threading through her hair — tilting her face so he could go deeper.
Mirnaa was shocked — surprised — but something inside her whispered: This is where he surrendered. Let it be.
She closed her eyes.
Her hands — still on his shoulders — tightened. She kissed back — hesitant at first,
then deeper — tongues sliding, breaths mingling, soft moans swallowed between them.
Vikram — listening through the AirPod — heard wet sounds — smooching, soft sucking, faint gasps.
He thought it was just a comforting peck.
He didn’t realize it was lip-to-lip — deep, hungry, tongues entwining.
They parted — slowly.
Bharath’s voice was hoarse.
“Thanks… for the comfort.”
Mirnaa was terrorized — stunned. She wasn’t sure what she had just done.
Right or wrong? Her lips tingled. Her body felt hot — flushed — guilty.
Yet she felt good — for helping him.
They sat looking at each other for a few minutes — breathing heavy, eyes locked.
Bharath then said — calculatedly — voice soft:
“It’s enough. Vikram will be waiting. Please go.”
Mirnaa nodded — dazed.
Vikram — upstairs — smiled. He decided to cut the call. He delved deep into business issues on his mobile — satisfied.
Bharath stood — pacing the room, wiping his face (glycerin gone).
He turned back — calling for one more hug.
Mirnaa stepped in.
His arms wrapped tight — promising, possessive.
“I won’t look back,” he whispered against her ear. “If this is what you want… you had it with your comfort.”
Her smile bloomed — warm, relieved.
He caught her face again.
“I’ve got someone to lean on,” he said — and pressed his lips to hers.
This kiss was longer — hungrier than before.
Five minutes. Deep. Tongue-to-tongue. Sucking slow. Wet sounds filled the room — saliva sliding, lips smacking softly, tongues licking, exploring. He tilted her head back — deepening it — one hand sliding to the nape of her neck, the other resting just under the swell of her breast — thumb brushing the side curve again.
Glad Vikram didn’t hear it.
Mirnaa lost herself — thoughts swirling — until he broke it — soft.
“Thanks.”
She was stunned — what happened all of a sudden? Did she cross a thin line she didn’t know?
She moved to leave.
But he caught her hand.
“I won’t cross limits — let’s be good friends. When I need comfort… I’ll tell you. Thanks for all.”
She could not react.
She left.
Upstairs, Vikram was deeply involved in his mobile — reviewing Dubai papers.
Mirnaa came in silently.
She wanted to speak about it — the kisses, the heat, the guilt.
But he was busy.
She slipped under the covers — back to him — and slept waiting for Vikram.
Her lips still tingled.
And somewhere deep — she was unsure about telling this to vikram or hide it.
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