THE BETRAYAL - CHAPTER THREE
Neha stood at the kitchen counter and sipped her drink. She couldn't contain her excitement. Hari was right. Things were different now that he lived with them. It had only been a couple weeks since the honeymoon, but Neha was starting to see how they could manage.
It was still new, chancing glances at him whenever her mother was occupied, but they were establishing a system. It wasn't quite a routine, but Neha was delighted to have him in her life. They were already spending far more time together than they would have been able to otherwise.
Her mother was finishing her breakfast in a hurry. It was the weekend, which were the busiest days for the flower shop. For Neha and Hari, it was a window of opportunity. It was difficult to act like she wasn't thinking about him. All the ways that he would touch her as soon as Asha was out the door.
Hari was reading by the window, but he stood up to walk Asha out. Neha looked away and started to wash dishes when he leaned in to kiss her mother. Neha didn't want to see. She wanted to live the fantasy that he was hers, and that his marriage to her mother meant nothing.
It was a demonstration of his love for
her
, Neha. It was the only way they could live together. Not everyone would have taken such a risk, but he had. Neha told herself that there was clearer affirmation of their love for one another, and he had been so sweet upon moving in. Doting and supportive.
They had already had a couple of close calls. It was so difficult to keep their hands off of each other until the weekend. Only a few days before, Neha had been unpacking the last of the boxes when she felt his kiss on her neck, his fingers on her hips. She hadn't moved, not knowing where her mother was in the house. He'd pulled away just in time. Asha rounded the corner. Hari was already across the room, delving into another box. Neha had been left trembling with desire. She loved being teased and receiving any attention from him even if it was perilous.
There were nights when Neha was still left restless. He couldn't leave Asha's bed every night. On those nights, Neha found herself listening for them, but heard nothing. No moans of rapture or ragged groans. She wondered if her mother had ever made a move on Hari or if he was the one who instigated everything on their honeymoon.
She still had nights where she lay awake without him, asking such questions. However, none of them compared to the distress she had felt during their honeymoon and right after they had returned. The silence that she heard every night in the corridors soothed most of her anxiety-ridden doubt.
Neha scrubbed the dishes. She heard the door shut. Her mother had left for the flower shop after the kiss on her cheek. Neha heard footsteps. Hari's footsteps but she didn't turn around to greet him. Instead, she waited.
She'd worn a long kameez for him with cotton leggings underneath. It was casual enough to wear around him while her mother was home, but still showed off her figure, especially without the constrains of a bra. He reached under the hem and tugged the band of her leggings. He kissed her neck like he had before when they had almost been caught.
"I thought you said we should wait a few minutes," Neha said with a grin that he couldn't see. They'd talked about how waiting 5 minutes after her mother had left was wise, just in case she forgot something and came back.
"You're irresistible. How could I possibly?" Hari responded. She laughed but her breath caught when he reached under her leggings, teasing the edge of her panties.
"Breaking your own rules," she scolded him. Playful, breathless.
"You like it, I know you do," Hari told her. She gasped as his fingers made contact, compelling her sweet cunt. She leaned into him, feeling his firm chest on her back. She started to yank her leggings down, but he shook his head, his lips grazing her jaw from behind.
"Not until I say," he told her. His fingers claimed her, dragging her panties to the side and indulging in her wetness. She turned toward him, leaning back as he readjusted his position and his fingers sprang further up inside of her.
Hari loved watching the expressions fly across her face, the range of her abandon. Her back was wet from the edge of the sink, but she didn't care. Neha's braid snaked around her neck and over one shoulder down the side of her breasts. Hari leaned in to kiss her while her eyes were closed from the pleasure.
She grew louder as their kiss mirrored the rhythm of his fingers inside of her. Neha barely registered that he was pulling her away from the sink. They tumbled down the hall in each other's arms, stripping each other down.
It was a game. Who could strip more of the other person's clothes. Neha giggled. She was in nothing but her kameez by the time they reached the bedroom. Hari was in his briefs. Her grin was triumphant. Hari wanted to humble her.
Hari climbed over her, grinding against her, but when she moved to kiss him or reach into his briefs, he pulled away with a taunting smile. In rebellion, she started to touch herself. Her fingers desperate and unhinged. Hari pulled her hands away.
"You can't always get your way," he told her.
"Oh, really?" She said, reaching for his cock again. He evaded her grip and held fast to her wrists, bringing them back by her head against the sheets.
"Yes. Really," he emphasized. She struggled but to no avail.
"But you like giving me what I want," Neha said.
"Ahh, not nearly as much as I enjoy teasing you," he told her. He had a short beard as he hadn't shaved since moving in. It made him seem older than he already was, which excited Neha to no end. A dirty idea came to her.
"Oh really ... daddy? Are you going to punish me, daddy?" The naughtiness was ruined by her giggle. He grinned at her attempt.
Then, he moved against her again, his cock protruding against his briefs. With one hand, he held her arms above her head for leverage and brought his length along her thighs and against her kameez. The other moved along her leg. Every pass brought her kameez up. Inch by inch, her legs, thighs and at last her pussy were exposed.
Hari gazed into her eyes. She whimpered. His lips were so close. He refused to kiss her and she refused to beg. Hari loved the look in her eyes. How much she needed him and respected him.
She was completely ignorant to his deception which only made him harder. She truly thought he loved her. It was the ultimate compliment. His facade was seamless. He watched her give in, her hips lifting every time he moved against her. Her thighs spread wider and his briefs were soaked with the evidence of her ecstasy.
Neha could see something behind his gaze. She couldn't interpret it, but it excited her none-the-less. It was a recklessness that she wasn't used to seeing in his aloof and professional demeanor. She kissed him then, catching him in his ascent up her body.
She expected him to move away as he had before. To chastise her for her boldness, but he surprised her by following the current of her tongue. She pushed against him again. His grip tightened on her wrists so she wrapped her legs around him.
His briefs were thoroughly saturated with sweat and the excitement that fizzled between them. Hari was so erect, that he was almost in pain. His restraint was cracking. A first for him. He'd been with many women, but none had brought him to this.
He didn't want to admit it. That Neha was in fact irresistible. At the beginning, she was just like the others. Needy and easy to manipulate. Now, he wasn't sure how to keep himself in check. It wasn't like him to take as many risks in a job, but she brought that out of him.
This time, when she struggled, he let her go free. Permitted her gentle hands to reach between them. He panted when she caught hold of him, staring into her eyes. She was so considerate. Rubbing along his entire length.
She let go, pushing him onto his back. He grunted but did not resist. Not when her hands tugged his briefs off his legs, and not when her mouth greeted the swollen head of his cock. Her tongue was satiating his need, but just barely. His cock was straining against the arousal he harbored for her.
She sank her mouth down on his head and he arched against her. Her eyes were aglow with the power she had over him. Fascinated and brimming with pride as her lips exerted pressure against his sensitive skin. She was only taking a quarter of his cock into her mouth. She was a quick learner. It was exhilarating torture.
"Deeper," he told her, in an effort to employ his professor tone. The patronizing fatherly cadence that inspired her subservience. He didn't want her to know that she was slipping through his web of control. She listened, spiking his arousal even further.
Her sucks were loud and flirtatious. Hari loved every stroke of her tongue and tug of her throat, but his need to be inside her was overwhelming. Hari sat up. Neha was a tigress, gazing up at him. He tried to pull her toward him but she refused. Instead, she smothered his cock with more sucking, treading down, down, down.
