15-05-2026, 10:38 PM
Chapter 120 - Hunger and Hollow
Gowtham returned home that night like a man carrying stones in his chest.
He stepped into his house, closed the door behind him, and stood still for a long moment in the dark. The silence felt heavier than usual. Varsha’s words kept echoing in his head — sharp, final, humiliating.
“I would rather be Rahul’s mistress than marry a man like you.”
He sat on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor. For the fourth consecutive night, hunger had been absent. Every thought of her had killed his appetite. But tonight, something shifted.
No more, he told himself. I won’t let a woman who doesn’t care about my feelings control even my stomach.
He stood up with renewed resolve, took a long, scalding hot shower, letting the water burn his skin as if it could wash away the rejection. When he came out, he wiped himself roughly and changed into comfortable clothes.
At 9:10 PM, he walked into Suresh’s house. Originally, he just wanted a decent meal. But the moment he entered, his eyes caught Sneha in the kitchen.
Sneha was finishing the last touches of dinner. Suresh was nowhere to be seen — probably locked in the guest room again. Gowtham stood at the entrance for a second, then moved toward her like a man seeking shelter.
As he stepped towards Sneha, an urge came in him. All these days, he had controlled her like a puppet. Now, when a woman had suppressed him, made him feel inferior and small, he just wanted to revive his superiority. He wanted to feel powerful again. He wanted to reclaim control. Only she make him feel like Superior at the moment.
But She is also only person who could trust him any non-sense he would spout. A person like her will be his emotional support as well he thought.
Without a word, he wrapped his arms around her from behind, burying his face in the crook of her neck. His body was still warm from the shower, almost feverish.
Sneha froze, shocked. He had broken the rule — hugging her openly in the common area. But she quickly sensed something was deeply wrong. His grip was tight, almost desperate, not lustful.
“Gowtham…” she whispered, turning slightly in his arms.
“Too much pressure at the office?”
He shook his head against her neck, his breath hot on her skin.
She asked why does your body radiates so much heat?
She touched her and asked, you got fever..
He said No..
“Just… too much thinking,” he murmured.
“Today, no more thinking. I need you.”
Sneha’s heart twisted. She could feel the heat radiating from his body, the exhaustion in his voice. For a moment, “the wife of Suresh” took a backseat. She gently turned fully in his arms and hugged him back, stroking his back, like a true friend or companion.
“Come, let’s have dinner first,” she said softly.
Gowtham nodded. He sat at the table like a man who had forgotten how to eat properly. Sneha served him generously — rice, dal, chicken curry, and fresh rotis. To her surprise, he ate with real hunger. He asked for a second helping, then a third. He ate quietly but steadily, as if trying to fill a different kind of emptiness.
Sneha watched him, her mind racing with conflicting thoughts.
He looks broken… What happened today? Whatever, I want his calmness and 100 % trust in me before I begin..
She felt a strange mix of relief came in. Relief because his need for her tonight proved he was still emotionally tied to her — which made her plan easier to execute.
After dinner, Gowtham leaned back, finally full. He looked at her with tired but grateful eyes.
“Thank you,” he said quietly.
Sneha gave him a small, soft smile, hiding the storm raging inside her chest.
She watched as Gowtham stood up from the table, his body still radiating that feverish heat from the shower. He walked to the sink, washed his hands slowly, the water running over his strong forearms. When he turned back toward her, his eyes had changed — dark, heavy, and hungry in a way that made the air between them thicken.
“You fulfilled my stomach’s hunger…” he said, his voice low and rough, almost a growl.
He stepped closer, closing the distance with deliberate slowness. Sneha’s breath caught as his tall frame towered over her. Without warning, his large hands rose and caught her full breasts over the thin fabric of her saree. He squeezed them possessively, fingers digging into the soft, heavy flesh, thumbs brushing over her nipples until they hardened instantly against the material.
A low, needy groan escaped his throat.
“One more hunger is still there,” he murmured, voice thick with desire.
“And only you can satisfy it tonight.”
Sneha’s body responded despite herself — a flush of heat spreading through her core as he kneaded her breasts with rough, desperate hunger. His palms were hot, almost burning through the saree, rolling and pressing her soft mounds together, thumbs circling her stiff nipples in slow, teasing strokes. She could feel his breath on her neck, heavy and ragged, as he leaned in closer, lips brushing her ear.
“Come…” he whispered, his voice hoarse.
He pulled her flush against his body, one hand still possessively cupping and squeezing her breast while the other slid down to grip her waist. Without giving her time to think, he began dragging her toward the master bedroom, his steps urgent, his hard cock already pressing insistently against her hip through his clothes.
Sneha’s heart raced. The heat of his body, the raw need in his touch, the way his fingers kept kneading her breast as they moved — it was overwhelming. She could feel her own body betraying her, a familiar wetness building between her thighs even as her mind screamed warnings. But she was determined for something today.
They crossed the threshold into the master bedroom, Gowtham’s hand still greedily squeezing her breast, his lips already descending toward her neck —
He froze.
Suresh was already there.
He sat calmly on the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his knees, looking at them with a cold, unreadable expression. His eyes flicked from Gowtham’s hand still possessively cupping Sneha’s breast… to her flushed face… to the obvious bulge in Gowtham’s pants.
The silence in the room was deafening.
Gowtham returned home that night like a man carrying stones in his chest.
He stepped into his house, closed the door behind him, and stood still for a long moment in the dark. The silence felt heavier than usual. Varsha’s words kept echoing in his head — sharp, final, humiliating.
“I would rather be Rahul’s mistress than marry a man like you.”
He sat on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor. For the fourth consecutive night, hunger had been absent. Every thought of her had killed his appetite. But tonight, something shifted.
No more, he told himself. I won’t let a woman who doesn’t care about my feelings control even my stomach.
He stood up with renewed resolve, took a long, scalding hot shower, letting the water burn his skin as if it could wash away the rejection. When he came out, he wiped himself roughly and changed into comfortable clothes.
At 9:10 PM, he walked into Suresh’s house. Originally, he just wanted a decent meal. But the moment he entered, his eyes caught Sneha in the kitchen.
Sneha was finishing the last touches of dinner. Suresh was nowhere to be seen — probably locked in the guest room again. Gowtham stood at the entrance for a second, then moved toward her like a man seeking shelter.
As he stepped towards Sneha, an urge came in him. All these days, he had controlled her like a puppet. Now, when a woman had suppressed him, made him feel inferior and small, he just wanted to revive his superiority. He wanted to feel powerful again. He wanted to reclaim control. Only she make him feel like Superior at the moment.
But She is also only person who could trust him any non-sense he would spout. A person like her will be his emotional support as well he thought.
Without a word, he wrapped his arms around her from behind, burying his face in the crook of her neck. His body was still warm from the shower, almost feverish.
Sneha froze, shocked. He had broken the rule — hugging her openly in the common area. But she quickly sensed something was deeply wrong. His grip was tight, almost desperate, not lustful.
“Gowtham…” she whispered, turning slightly in his arms.
“Too much pressure at the office?”
He shook his head against her neck, his breath hot on her skin.
She asked why does your body radiates so much heat?
She touched her and asked, you got fever..
He said No..
“Just… too much thinking,” he murmured.
“Today, no more thinking. I need you.”
Sneha’s heart twisted. She could feel the heat radiating from his body, the exhaustion in his voice. For a moment, “the wife of Suresh” took a backseat. She gently turned fully in his arms and hugged him back, stroking his back, like a true friend or companion.
“Come, let’s have dinner first,” she said softly.
Gowtham nodded. He sat at the table like a man who had forgotten how to eat properly. Sneha served him generously — rice, dal, chicken curry, and fresh rotis. To her surprise, he ate with real hunger. He asked for a second helping, then a third. He ate quietly but steadily, as if trying to fill a different kind of emptiness.
Sneha watched him, her mind racing with conflicting thoughts.
He looks broken… What happened today? Whatever, I want his calmness and 100 % trust in me before I begin..
She felt a strange mix of relief came in. Relief because his need for her tonight proved he was still emotionally tied to her — which made her plan easier to execute.
After dinner, Gowtham leaned back, finally full. He looked at her with tired but grateful eyes.
“Thank you,” he said quietly.
Sneha gave him a small, soft smile, hiding the storm raging inside her chest.
She watched as Gowtham stood up from the table, his body still radiating that feverish heat from the shower. He walked to the sink, washed his hands slowly, the water running over his strong forearms. When he turned back toward her, his eyes had changed — dark, heavy, and hungry in a way that made the air between them thicken.
“You fulfilled my stomach’s hunger…” he said, his voice low and rough, almost a growl.
He stepped closer, closing the distance with deliberate slowness. Sneha’s breath caught as his tall frame towered over her. Without warning, his large hands rose and caught her full breasts over the thin fabric of her saree. He squeezed them possessively, fingers digging into the soft, heavy flesh, thumbs brushing over her nipples until they hardened instantly against the material.
A low, needy groan escaped his throat.
“One more hunger is still there,” he murmured, voice thick with desire.
“And only you can satisfy it tonight.”
Sneha’s body responded despite herself — a flush of heat spreading through her core as he kneaded her breasts with rough, desperate hunger. His palms were hot, almost burning through the saree, rolling and pressing her soft mounds together, thumbs circling her stiff nipples in slow, teasing strokes. She could feel his breath on her neck, heavy and ragged, as he leaned in closer, lips brushing her ear.
“Come…” he whispered, his voice hoarse.
He pulled her flush against his body, one hand still possessively cupping and squeezing her breast while the other slid down to grip her waist. Without giving her time to think, he began dragging her toward the master bedroom, his steps urgent, his hard cock already pressing insistently against her hip through his clothes.
Sneha’s heart raced. The heat of his body, the raw need in his touch, the way his fingers kept kneading her breast as they moved — it was overwhelming. She could feel her own body betraying her, a familiar wetness building between her thighs even as her mind screamed warnings. But she was determined for something today.
They crossed the threshold into the master bedroom, Gowtham’s hand still greedily squeezing her breast, his lips already descending toward her neck —
He froze.
Suresh was already there.
He sat calmly on the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his knees, looking at them with a cold, unreadable expression. His eyes flicked from Gowtham’s hand still possessively cupping Sneha’s breast… to her flushed face… to the obvious bulge in Gowtham’s pants.
The silence in the room was deafening.
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