Adultery Little sis Anjali and her friends

[prasannas2001]

 
 
 
 
"I love you too," Mamta whispered, her voice breaking. "I love you so much it scares me."
 
"Don't be scared." He pressed his forehead to hers. "I've got you. I will always have you."
 
They lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, the silence a soft, protective blanket around them.
 
His hand never stopped moving on her back, slow and soothing, and she eventually drifted into a light, restless sleep.
 
When he finally stood to leave, he kissed her forehead, his lips lingering there.
 
"I'll come back," he said softly, though she was barely awake. "When you're ready. Whenever you're ready."
 
"I'll be waiting," she murmured, her eyes fluttering closed.
 
"I know." He smoothed her hair back from her face. "I know you will."
 
He walked to the door, then turned back, his hand on the frame.
 
"Mamta?" he said softly.
 
"Yes?" Her voice was drowsy, distant.
 
"Thank you. For trusting me. For letting me in."
 
She smiled, that beautiful, vulnerable smile that made his heart ache. "Thank you for understanding."
 
"Always." His voice was a low, fervent whisper. "For you. Always."
 
He left the house, closing the door softly behind him.
 
The cool air hit his heated skin, and he leaned against the doorframe for a moment, his eyes closed, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
 
The frustration was overwhelming.
 
His body still burned, still ached, still screamed for release. Every nerve ending was on fire, every muscle taut with unsatisfied need.
 
He could still feel her heat against his skin, still taste her on his lips, still hear her breathless moans in his ears. He had been so close, so achingly, torturously close, and then it had all been ripped away.
 
He pressed the heel of his palm against his eyes, forcing himself to breathe. He could feel the anger coiling in his chest, dark and bitter, warring with the tenderness he had shown her.
 
He had done the right thing. He knew that. But doing the right thing had never felt so devastatingly wrong.