It had been three weeks since Ananya and Aarav began their forbidden affair. What started as stolen glances had turned into nights filled with whispers, touches, and bodies tangled in sweat and silk.

Every night when the house slept, they came alive.

But that night… they got too reckless.

---

2:17 AM.

Ananya’s door creaked open. She was already in a thin satin slip, no bra, her hair falling wild over her shoulders. Her eyes met Aarav’s in the dark as he stepped in, shirtless, sweatpants hanging dangerously low.

He shut the door silently, locked it, and whispered, “Missed me?”

“Bohot zyada…” she breathed, grabbing his face and kissing him hungrily.

He pushed her gently to the bed, hands sliding up her thighs, caressing the bare skin beneath the satin.

“Kya tum janti ho tum kaise lagti ho is mein? Jaise kisi gunah ki dua.”

His lips trailed from her neck to her collarbone, sucking softly, leaving red marks only he would see.

She moaned, “Koi sun lega…”

“Toh aaj sunne do…” he growled, pulling down her strap, exposing one breast and taking it into his mouth—licking, sucking, biting gently.

She arched her back, whispering his name, “Aarav… aur…”

He flipped her over, pulling the satin up to her waist. She gasped as his hand slid down her inner thighs.

“Itni gili ho… sirf mere liye?” he teased.

“Sirf tumhare liye… please… mujhe chahiye… abhi…”

With one deep thrust, he entered her from behind—slow, intense, filling her completely. She gripped the sheets, mouth open in a silent moan as he began moving, gripping her hips.

He leaned close to her ear. “Dekho kaise ro rahi ho mujhme…”

His pace quickened, skin slapping against skin, her body trembling beneath his. She turned her face to kiss him desperately, and he kissed her back like he owned every inch of her.

“Main… main aa rahi hoon…” she gasped.

“Mere saath… chhodo sab kuch…” he growled, driving her to the edge.

They came together, moaning into each other, bodies shaking, hearts thudding like war drums.

---

But in their ecstasy, they never heard the door unlock.

They didn’t hear the gasp.

Only when they turned—sheets tangled, her bare skin visible, his pants down—did they see her.

Mrs. Kapoor.

Standing there. Shocked. Pale.

“Aarav?” she whispered. “Yeh… yeh kya kar rahe ho tum?!”

Ananya froze. Aarav instinctively shielded her, wrapping a blanket around her as she hid her face in shame.

“Maa…”

“Tumne apni maa ki izzat mitti mein mila di! PG mein aise? In ladkiyon ke saath?!”

Tears welled in Ananya’s eyes. “Main… mujhe maaf kijiye aunty…”

But Aarav stood up—bare-chested, angry.

“Enough, Maa. I love her.”

“Tum pagal ho gaye ho?! Yeh sab moh-maya hai—lust! Tum shaadi karoge is ladki se?”

“Haan.” His voice was firm. “Agar yeh mere saath chahengi… toh main sab kuch chhod dunga. Yeh PG, yeh gym, sab kuch. Main sirf Ananya ko chhodd nahi sakta.”

Mrs. Kapoor stood speechless. Disbelief, rage, disappointment—all flashing on her face.

---

The next morning, Ananya sat on her bed, tears in her eyes, ready to pack.

But he came in, took her hands, and whispered, “Chalo mere saath.”

“Kahan?”

“Jahaan koi rules nahi honge. Sirf main aur tum.”

“Aur tumhari maa?”

“Usse waqt lagega. Par tumse door rehna… impossible hai.”

---

That evening, they left the PG together.

He got her a flat. She enrolled in part-time classes. He shifted his gym work to afternoons to stay with her at nights.

And when they made love now, it wasn’t hidden or guilty—it was free, raw, and full of meaning.

One night, as they lay naked on the floor, tangled in a blanket, he whispered:

“Tum sirf PG ki raatein nahi thi… tum meri zindagi ban gayi ho, Ananya.”

She smiled, tracing his jaw.

“Aur tum mere gunah ki sabse pyaari saza ho… Aarav.”

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