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The Room, Mumbai, India

Ragini sat alone in her dimly lit room, her cerulean silks cascading round her voluptuous body. The exorbitant inheritance from her late-grandfather had afforded her the luxurious of an opulent penthouse within the coronary heart of Mumbai. However, solace was arduous to search out amidst her untouched wealth. At twenty-five, she felt an insatiable starvation, a craving for intimacy that her chilly million-dollar mattress could not fulfill.

With a sigh, Ragini reached for the oriole feather quill on her vintage writing desk. She traced the fragile tip alongside the creamy expanse of her cleavage, her h 場 nullvmber lips parting in a breathy gasp. Her thumb rubbed sensuously throughout the quill’s delicate plume, mimicking the motions of a lover’s contact.

Emboldened by the feather’s caress, Ragini allowed the silken gown to slide off one shoulder, exposing the shiny, darkish peak of a nipple. Her fingers grazed the delicate bud, sending electrical energy surging via her. Ragini closed her eyes, dropping herself to the rhythm of her personal want.

Sliding up and doing, she padded barefoot to the vintage mirror within the nook of her boudoir. She gazed at her reflection – the fallen gown, the heavingriiability of her ample bosom, the flush of arousal portray her sharply outlined cheekbones. One hand glided down the sun-bronze expanse of her midriff to tthe swell of her hips, entangling fingers in her tangled jet-black tresses.

In the mirror, Ragini watched her nemesis strategy from behind, an unembarrassed leer upon his face. He circled her like a shark, his eyes feasting upon her bare flesh. Ragini trembled, an involuntary catch in her throat. But not out of worry or revulsion… it was want, pure and unbridled. She yearned to really feel his tough fingers upon her, to give up to his bestial lust.

But Ragini was no widespread whore. She was a woman of impeccable breeding. She would undergo no man’s base urges. With stunning agility, she vaulted over the again of the velvet chaise and pressed herself towards the glass, pinning her reflection between them. Ragini glared at her alter ego with eyes narrowed to black slits, daring him to satisfy her defiant gaze.

Unabashed, the person reached round to roughly palm Ragini’s breast, thumbing the nipple to aching stiffness. Ragini bit again a moan, her nails clawing frantically on the glass. His different hand delved additional under, fingers splaying her neatly-trimmed curls and circling her slick entrance. Ragini bucked towards his contact, her head falling again towards his shoulder. The man chuckled darkly, his stubble scraping her jaw.

Ragini gasped as two blunt fingers shoved into her depths, stretching her unbelievably. She bit her lip arduous, tasting copper, however could not stifle the wanton cries spilling from her lips. The fingers pushed deeper, curling towards a spot that made stars explode behind her lids. Ragini hung limp in his arms, a rag doll, as he ravaged her defenses.

He spun her round, urgent her again towards the mirror, and claimed her mouth in a brutal kiss. His tongue invaded her, choking her together with his musky style. Ragini gave pretty much as good as she acquired, her personal tongue plundering him, fencing for dominance. Their enamel clashed, lips bruising.

His fingers by no means ceased their brutal tempo, plunging out and in of her, tearing sobs and gasps from her throat. Ragini may really feel the stress coiling tighter in her core, like a spring wound too far. She was panting into his mouth, her hips writhing towards his hand. The pleasure was a dwelling factor inside her, writhing and twisting.

And then Ragini was coming, arduous. Her backbone arched sharply, grinding her pelvis towards his palm, taking his fingers impossibly deep. Her partitions clenched round him rhythmically, milking his digits, and her cries rang off the mirrored partitions. Ragini rode out the waves of her launch, trembling, as he gentled her via it with tender strokes.

When the shudders subsided, Ragini slumped towards the glass, gasping. The man withdrew his hand, bringing slick digits to his lips. He licked the glistening essence from every one with gradual savoring motions. Ragini’s physique gave a final feeble clench on the sight, spent and but in some way nonetheless thirsty for him.

With a remaining, devastating grin, the person launched Ragini and strode from the room with no phrase. Ragini watched him go, her hips nonetheless twitching with residual sparks. Then, with a shaky giggle, she gathered the fallen gown and staggered to the mattress. Tomorrow she must cope with the bloody sheets. But for now, Ragini curled into the quilt, the spicy masculine musk of her phantom lover nonetheless clinging to her pores and skin, and surrendered to sleep.