by M. V. Kasi
Sweet Temptation
All rights reserved
Copyright © 2018 by Karman Publishing
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
CHAPTER ONE
It was my tenth wedding anniversary weekend and I was spending it alone.
I was standing in front of a farmhouse that looked exactly the same as it had been since a decade ago where I had spent my honeymoon. It wasn’t an expensive farmhouse that some of the rich people around the area owned, but it was all Arjun and I could afford to go to at that time.
At twenty one, we were crazy young and had just graduated from our college. Barely a week later, we eloped and got married. At that time, I hadn’t cared about how we got married or where we were going to honeymoon. And neither did Arjun. We were so consumed by our love towards each other that all we had wanted was to be together. So we ended up honeymooning in Arjun’s farmhouse that was left to him by his parents after they died. We spent a blissful week before we had to return to the real world.
And since then... life happened.
Work, work and work. That was all I’ve heard from Arjun over the past few years. It wasn’t like I was being extremely unreasonable when it came to his work. I knew that he needed to work hard even after he achieved his dream of making his small start-up company into a global corporation.
All I wanted was some of his time to be spent with me.
Sometimes I wondered if I was being too clingy or needy. Was it too much to expect the man you married to be with you over the anniversary weekend? I didn’t think so.
Sighing, I opened the lock and dragged my suitcase inside the farmhouse house. I felt groggy and tired after the drive from Gurgaon to Chandigarh. It was only a seven hour drive with a couple of stops. But I had barely slept last night after Arjun had announced that he wouldn’t be joining me this morning as he had to finish some pending work for an important presentation.
His abrupt announcement had made me feel like I wasn’t important in his life. And that I was just someone whom he tolerated and was stuck to because he had promised to do so when we were both very young.
Shaking my morose thoughts away, I stared at the inside of the farmhouse.
It was small. There was only a bedroom with an attached bathroom, a living room, and a large kitchen. Arjun and I owned several homes around the country and a few around the world, but this little place held memories. That’s why we never even renovated it.
I wanted to stay here for the anniversary weekend to add to those beautiful memories.
Pulling out my phone from my purse, I called Arjun.
I was missing him even though I was used to being alone most of the time during our marriage.
My call wasn’t answered until the tenth ring. “Hello?” a breathless voice of a female answered my husband’s personal mobile phone.
I was shocked, and I could barely recognize the voice because all I could hear was panting and giggles.
“Arjun?” I asked.
“He’s busy. Busy giving me the best—”
The woman’s sentence was cut off midway and the curt voice of my husband spoke. “Hello,” he said.
“Arjun. I’ve reached safely—”
“Disha, I’ve already told you I’m busy tonight with my work.”
“But Arjun, tomorrow is our—”
I could hear a breathless giggle and a moan. It was coming from close proximity to his phone.
“Look, I’ll talk to you later,” Arjun hurriedly said before hanging up.
I stared at the phone stupidly as tears welled up in my eyes.
Arjun was spending our anniversary weekend with Ritu. It was definitely her voice I heard.
Were they together now? Why was she panting and moaning? Did I happen to interrupt something with my unwanted call?
No. My husband won’t cheat me.
Won’t he?
I sucked in a painful breath as doubt clouded my mind.
It was not unwarranted. I still remember the last time I had surprised Arjun at his work, only to be surprised myself.
Ritu, who was a new employee, was perched on top of Arjun’s desk. She was wearing a top with a plunging neckline that even I could see her cleavage clearly from a distance.
Arjun and Ritu weren’t kissing or anything, but I felt the tension in the air. I had asked Arjun about her after he came home, but he never answered me. Instead, he chose to shut me up by having sex with me until I completely forgot about that incident.
I remember that night clearly because he was half-angry and half-serious when he growled that he would get me pregnant, only because it would stop me from nagging him as I would be too pre-occupied taking care of his baby.
It was a terribly sexist thing for him to say, but my body came alive with his primitive display.
That had been more than two months ago. Since then, apart from our usual bi-weekly sex, he didn’t touch or hold me in affection.
Sighing once again, I removed my clothes and stepped into the tiny bathroom for a shower.
I stood in front of a mirror that hung over one of the bathroom walls and stared at myself.
Was I simply getting old? I could see a slight droop in my heavy breasts. Arjun had never complained, but neither was he showering me with compliments like he used to do before. I remember how we couldn’t keep our hands off from each other. He had even told me many times that his favorite place in the world was being inside me.
Maybe Arjun was comparing me with the smart and pretty employees at his company who dressed up smartly in business attire. Unlike me. I was either dressed in formal party-wear to entertain Arjun’s business colleagues and clients or I was in casual wear because I had to take care of our large house by directing the servants.
Maybe over the years, Arjun only found working or corporate women sexy because he thought they were his intellectual equals.
Then what was I? Was I only a womb where he would plant his seed? And then my whole purpose in life would be to take care of his children and house?
I knew I was getting worked up. I hated being this insecure. But I couldn’t help it. I had spent over a decade with that man, investing my time and effort, while sacrificing my own ambitions.
After I had eloped with Arjun, my parents broke all relations with me. My parents were rich and they brought me up in the lap of luxury. They had given me whatever I had asked for.
I had the most expensive toys growing up, the best schools and I even drove in the most luxurious cars while attending my college. Even though my parents doted on me all my life, they couldn’t forgive me for marrying a man of a lower caste with no money.
I was shocked at my parents’ narrow-minded thinking. So I didn’t mind being cut-off from the inheritance.
At that time, Ajun had gotten an admission in a top MBA college. Due to lack of money, I dropped the idea of getting a Masters degree and took up a full-time job at a private school as a teacher. I even tutored during the evenings and on the weekends.
It had been grueling for the both of us, with him studyin
g full-time, and me earning to pay the household expenses.
I never regretted it for a second. But now...
“Damn it to hell!” I spoke out loud in my usual habit. “I’m not insecure or helpless. It’s Arjun’s loss if he can’t appreciate what he’s got.”
Throwing my suitcase on a bed, I tried to wade through the sexy bordering on indecent clothes I had packed for celebrating the anniversary weekend with my husband. I pulled out one of the see-through nightdresses and put it on.
I lay on the bed to catch a nap before whipping something with the groceries I had bought on my way.
I couldn’t relax. Not only did I feel restless, I also felt keyed up in a strange way. Every little movement on the bed had a current zinging through my body.
It must be the dratted see-through, satin nightdress I was wearing, and also the barely there lingerie underneath. Combined with the fact that I was expecting a lot of sex this weekend, it was impossible to relax.
“Damn it!” I yelled out loud as another current zinged though as I tried getting comfortable.
Giving up the fight, I slid my fingers into the lacy thong.
In less than ten minutes, I was moaning and gasping through my climax as my fingers stimulated my throbbing core.
I stared at the ceiling while panting. Even though I had climaxed, I still felt unsatisfied.
I needed the actual thing. I needed to be held close and called beautiful.
I needed to be wanted.
With that last insecure thought, I slipped into an uncomfortable sleep.
CHAPTER TWO
I woke up to the sound of knocking on the door.
I tried to ignore it, but whoever was at the door, continued to knock or rather bang on the door insistently.
Dragging myself out of the bed, I opened the door with a frown. “What?” I snapped irritably.
There was a shocked silence.
I stared at the man in front of me. A tall, muscular, sweaty man who must have been working outside in the sun.
I didn’t know what time it was, but seeing the sun up in the sky, I knew it probably was close to nine in the morning.
The man stared at me silently while he pulled up his shirt and wiped his sweaty brow. My eyes dropped to his washboard stomach. Inadvertently or maybe deliberately, he was showing off his impressive six-pack abs.
“What do you want?” My voice came out croaky due to dry throat.
“May I have some water?” he asked.
With great difficulty, I ripped my eyes off his gorgeous body and even more gorgeous face. I looked behind him. He had been digging the lush flower bed around the farmhouse. The dried and dead flowering bushes along with the weeds were neatly stacked at a corner. He must have been at it for a while.
“Your husband wanted the garden cleaned and to look beautiful. I’ve been clearing the weeds since five this morning.”
I looked at the man once again. There was a carefree, boyish grin on his face which did funny things to my stomach. I chalked the fluttering to not having dinner or breakfast.
“Well, my husband decided not to join me. He was busy.” Always busy.
“Oh.” Beautiful, bright and very male eyes swept the length of me. “He must not be a very smart man if he left someone like you all alone.”
I realized it too late that I was still wearing my flimsy nightdress and that every curve could be seen through them. Instead of feeling self-conscious, I stood up straight and stared back at him daringly.
It was very hot outside, but my nipples hardened. The satin material of my nightdress, rubbed against the sensitive peaks, causing a quiver deep inside.
Added to that, to my embarrassment, my stomach rumbled noisily, protesting against lack of food for a long time.
The man’s grin widened. “You are hungry,” he pointed the obvious. “I’m a really good cook. If you let me in, I can make you breakfast and maybe other meals.” He remained outside the door, waiting to see how I would react to his brazen offer.
“I’m not hungry,” I lied. I did not want this man inside. The shocking visuals my brain kept throwing about what would happen if this man came inside shook me to the core.
But I couldn’t turn away someone who was thirsty. The man had really been working hard from the past few hours in the hot sun.
“You can wait here while I get you water.”
I went inside and pulled out a tall glass and filled it with ice-cold water. I drank it first, cooling myself. And then, rinsing it, I filled it again.
I knew I probably should change into something less revealing before handing the water, but I decided to stick to what I was wearing. The hot look I had received from a gorgeous man made it worth it.
I went out of the kitchen and handed the water glass to the man.
“Thank you, Mrs. Mathur,” he drawled. His fingers brushed mine as he took the glass from me. The rough calluses on his fingers against my soft skin caused another quiver inside me.
I snatched my hand away quickly and was about to scold him for taking the liberty, but my voice died at the sight.
I stared at the tanned and masculine throat that was exposed while the man took huge gulps of water from the tall glass. A few drops had escaped and dripped down to his equally impressive chest.
I swallowed uncomfortably as I felt the obvious moisture between my thighs.
He lowered his head and held my eyes. “May I have another glass of water?” he asked. The tip of his tongue efficiently licked away a stray drop at the corner of his mouth.
Immediately, I wondered if his tongue could lick my sensitive core and relieve me of the sexual tension that was gripping me.
Disha Mathur! Stop right there!
I cleared my suddenly dry throat. “I’ll be right back with more water,” I said and ran into the kitchen.
I heard a masculine chuckle. And damn it, even his chuckle sounded sexy.
I opened the fridge door and leaned against it, trying to cool my body and have my brain functioning again.
I didn’t know how long I stood there, but finally when my body began to cool and rational thought seemed to return, I felt muscled arms enclosing around my waist from behind.
I jumped and stiffened with shock. But instead of shouting in self-preservation, I relaxed my body and let out a moan. The thick, muscled and sweaty arms felt wonderful on my nearly bare skin of my midriff.
“I was too thirsty to wait,” he murmured. His hot breath blew into my ear, causing me to shiver. “And you looked so beautiful and sad that I couldn’t resist coming in to check if you were doing okay.” The rough pads of his fingers, slowly rubbed against the undersides of my breasts through the soft satin, eliciting another moan.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying hard to resist him. In my mind, I knew this was wrong, but my body was coming alive.
I felt flattered and desirable.
“Ask me to stop and I will,” he whispered. When I didn’t answer, his hands slipped inside my nightdress, touching my bare skin. My whole body erupted in goosebumps as I shivered. “Should I stop, Mrs. Mathur?” he asked once again.
His fingers were teasing my nipples. Another low moan escaped my mouth. I couldn’t push him away. My body craved the touch.
He pressed an obviously hard arousal into my back. I could clearly feel the long and thick length through the thin material of my nightdress. It made me yearn to feel him moving inside me.
What are you doing, Disha? Have you gone crazy! Why are you allowing him to touch you!
I’m not crazy. I need this. I need to be wanted.
Impervious to my internal battle, he continued to murmur in a rough, low tone. “I saw you earlier this morning. Your window was open when I came.” His hands opened the flimsy clasp to my dress. “I saw you sleeping peacefully. You looked so beautiful and sexy even from the distance. I was hard all morning while I worked in the garden. I imagined all the things I could do to put a smile on your face.”
My breath sp
ed up as I heard him.
“Why do you feel the need to put a smile on my face?” I managed to gasp out.
“Because you looked sad even in your sleep,” he answered. He pushed away my nightdress and turned me towards him. “Fuck, you are so beautiful. Your husband doesn’t deserve you. I want to make you happy. Will you let me?”
I stared at his handsome, boyish face. His easy grin was gone and he looked serious.
“Yes,” I said softly. I wanted this man to make me forget the rest of the world and worries even if it was only for a brief while.
As soon as I gave him my consent, the easy smile was back on his face. It was followed by a hot, predatory look. He pulled up his t-shirt in one smooth move, baring his delicious body. He smelled delicious, too. All man.
I licked my lips and placed my trembling hands on his chest. I could feel the strong, hard thump of his heartbeat under my palm.
The soft pads of my fingers traced the hard ridges on his stomach. I followed the neat, hairy trail from his navel to lower. I stopped when I reached the belt buckle of his worn jeans. I could see his straining arousal even through the thick material.
I looked up at his face. His hands tightened against my hips and pulled me closer, just before his lips closed on mine.
I gasped as his tongue dipped between my lips and into my mouth. He tasted of sweet tea and cool water. I probably had the morning breath, but he didn’t seem to care. The bulge in his jeans grew even longer and twitched against my soft stomach.
Without warning, he swung me up in his arms. I expected him to carry me to my bed, but he surprised me by laying me on the kitchen floor.
The cool tiles against my bare back made me shiver and my whole body became one throbbing sensitive mass.
He raised my legs and tugged hard on my very expensive underwear. I could hear a small ripping sound before he threw them away in a careless manner.
He didn’t lower my legs. He kept them apart.
I knew he could clearly see that I was wet and aroused. My arousal only grew further at his perusal and touch. I was almost dripping.
