At That Moment ✔

🤍.8

30th march 2023

KARAN'S POV

“Teach me something dirty.”

Those are the words that came out of Preeta ’s mouth. I heard them loud and clear. She’s right here in front of me, but it’s hard to see past the fog of lust to determine if I heard her correctly.
My cock, which has been half hard since we walked in my house, turns to granite.

Her smell, hearing those words, and having her right in front of me has my mind and body fighting against itself.

When she walked out of the bathroom a moment ago, a shot of lust slammed into me so fucking hard I nearly stumbled from it. It’s always there when she’s near, but fuck me, seeing her with her hair down, the innocent but naughty look in her eyes, having her in my home, makes that feeling ten times stronger.

Before I know what I’m doing, my hands are reaching for Preeta ’s hips. My grip is probably too tight, but I can’t stop it from happening.

I take in a deep breath, ready to deny her request, but then her scent hits me square in the dick.
Fuck, she smells good. And I bet she’d taste even better.

I push away those thoughts and drop my hands to my sides, already regretting my decision.
“miss arora —”

Preeta,” she says quickly.

I clench my jaw. “Miss Arora,” I grit out.

“tumhe patha hai .. ki.. yeh thum mujse kya mangrahi hai . I’m your teacher and much older than you.”

I need her to see reason, because my own is slipping precariously close to the edge.

“ Muje koyi fark nahi padtha ... I don’t care about your age,” she says in a shaky voice.

She presses her lips together, and her back straightens.

“And I do know what I want.”

"Miss arora thum ... You’re too young to know. This is just a teenage crush. I’m in no way the appropriate person to give you what you want.”

I can see it in her eyes that she wants to protest. She even opens her mouth, but immediately snaps it shut.

Doubt starts to creep over her features, and her eyes drop from mine. Seeing that look does bad things to my body.

She starts backing away from me, her eyes darting around the room, looking anywhere but at me. I don’t like it. I hate the fucking rejection radiating off her.

“I get it,” she mumbles.

“I’m sorry.” She stops by the couch, reaching over the back to grab her bag.

“Could—” Her voice cracks, so she tries again.

“Could you take me back to my car now? Muje jana hai”

She’s still facing the couch. Her shoulders are slumped and the side of her face I can see is a bright red. Her chest rises and falls rapidly, like she’s fighting back her tears.

Slowly, I walk toward her. My intention is to talk  and add some sense into her, to get her see . why giving her what she wants is such a bad idea. That’s what I plan to do, what I should do.

But what I do instead is the total opposite. My control snaps once I’m behind her. All I can think about is stripping her clothes off and devouring every single fucking inch of her.

It’s wrong.

So goddamn wrong.

But for the life of me I can’t think of the reasons why.