[shellyshalini]

Episode 17 : The Wish I Couldn't Refuse

The rose petals crunched softly beneath my bare feet as I stepped fully into the room. Bikram's hands found me immediately, his fingers tracing the curve of my waist, sliding up to cup my face. He tilted my chin up and pressed his lips to my forehead, a kiss so tender it made my breath catch.

Then he began to worship me.

His lips traveled down my temple, across my cheekbone, along my jaw. Each kiss was slow, deliberate, as if he was memorizing every inch of my skin. When he reached my neck, I tilted my head back, offering myself to him. His tongue traced the pulse point there, and I shivered, my hands gripping his shoulders.

"I want this night to be perfect," he murmured against my collarbone. "No interruptions. No distractions."

I nodded, though my mind was hazy with desire. He pulled back, his eyes serious.

"Shelly, Call Rohan and  your friend Arjun. Tell them everything is fine. That you won't be available tonight, I don't want any disturbance."

The request cut through the fog. I blinked, but something in his gaze made me obey. I reached for my phone, my fingers trembling slightly.

First, Rohan. He answered on the second ring. "Everything okay, Shelly?"

"Fine," I said, my voice steady despite the pounding in my chest. "I'm tired. Going to sleep early. Don't worry about me."

He sounded relieved. "Good. I'll be late anyway, will reach destination in 2-3 hours. Rest well, I will call you tomorrow."

Next, Arjun. I hesitated, then dialed. He picked up quickly, his voice warm. "Hey, beautiful. Miss me?"

"Always," I said softly. "But I'm exhausted tonight. Let's talk tomorrow, okay?"

He was understanding, as always. We exchanged goodnights, and I hung up, my heart racing.

I set the phone aside and turned to Bikram. "Done."

He smiled, a predator's smile. "Good girl."

His hands found my waist again, but this time he stepped back, his eyes sweeping over me. The sheer red lehenga I wore seemed to glow in the candlelight, the intricate gold embroidery catching the flickering flames. He let out a slow, reverent breath.

"You look like a goddess tonight, Shelly," he whispered, his voice thick with awe. "This red... it's like you were born to wear it. The color of passion. The color of fire. You take my breath away."

A flush crept up my cheeks, warming me from within. His words wrapped around me, more intimate than any touch. He reached out, his fingers brushing the edge of the lehenga's blouse, tracing the fabric where it hugged my breasts.

"Every man who sees you tonight will envy me," he continued, his eyes locked on mine. "But none of them will ever have you like this. None of them will know what it's like to unwrap this gift."

His fingers found the ties at my waist, and slowly, deliberately, he began to untie them. The lehenga loosened, the fabric slipping downward. He caught it before it fell, his knuckles grazing my hips, my thighs, as he guided it down. The cool air kissed my skin, raising goosebumps in its wake.

"I want to see all of you," he breathed, his voice barely a whisper. "Every inch. Every curve. You are art, Shelly. And tonight, I am your devoted curator."

The lehenga pooled at my feet, and I stood before him in nothing but the sheer blouse and my panties. His gaze traveled over me, hungry and reverent, and I felt more exposed, more seen, than I ever had before.

I wanted to take control.

I pushed him back onto the rose-petal-covered bed. He looked up at me, surprised, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. I crawled over him, my lips finding his chest. I bit gently at his nipple, then sucked, savoring the salt of his skin. His breath hitched.

I moved lower, my tongue trailing down his stomach, tasting the heat of him. His hands tightened in my hair as I took him into my mouth, first his balls, then his shaft. I worked him slowly, deliberately, wanting to draw out every gasp, every tremor.

He groaned, his hips bucking. "Shelly..."

I looked up at him, my lips still wrapped around him, and saw the raw need in his eyes. He pulled me up, flipping me onto my back. His mouth descended between my legs, and I gasped.

His tongue parted me, flicked against my clit, and a wave of sensation crashed through me, then he moved to my ass and he did the unexpected,he parted my ass cheek, plant a kiss in my hole then flicked his tongue inside my ass hole.No one had ever done this to me before. I cried out, my back arching, my fingers digging into the sheets. He was patient, teasing, learning my body with every stroke. I felt myself building, the pressure coiling tight, and then—release, glorious and shattering.

I lay there, trembling, as he kissed his way back up my body.

He reached for the bedside table and pulled out a garment—the pink babydoll the courier boy had delivered. It was sheer, lace-trimmed, designed to reveal more than it hid.

"You remember , you lost the game that day," he said, his voice low. "So you have to fulfill one wish of mine."

I knew what was coming, but I still felt a shiver of apprehension.

He held out the babydoll. "Put this on. And then... I want you to suck me. All the way. Until I cum."

I hesitated. The thought of swallowing his seed had always seemed... gross. Unthinkable.

But I had surrendered to this night. To him.

I took the babydoll and slipped it over my head. The fabric was cool against my heated skin, the lace scratching softly at my nipples. I felt exposed, vulnerable, but also powerful in a strange way.

I knelt before him, my hands finding his hips, my lips parting.

I took him into my mouth, and this time, I didn't hold back. I let him guide my rhythm, my throat relaxing as he pushed deeper. His breath came in harsh gasps, his fingers tangled in my hair. I tasted salt, skin, the essence of him.

When he finally spilled into my mouth, I swallowed. It was warm, thick, unfamiliar. But as it slid down my throat, I felt a strange thrill. A sense of accomplishment.

He collapsed beside me, breathing hard. "You're going to be addicted to that soon," he whispered, a smile in his voice.

I lay there, my lips still tingling, my body humming with leftover pleasure. And I wondered if he was right.³