Chapter 48: The Long Night
The car’s leather seats were cool against her bare thighs, the thin fabric of her dress doing little to shield her from the memory of his touch. Every movement sent a fresh wave of soreness through her body, a reminder of how thoroughly he had used her.
Meera sat completely sore in the car with her ultra-thin dress as they rode back to the villa as she thought. She needed rest. The city lights blurred past the tinted windows, the hum of the engine a dull drone beneath the pounding of her own heartbeat. Mayank’s fingers traced idle patterns on the leather seat between them, his touch light but deliberate, as if he were savoring the way her breath hitched at the smallest contact.
*"You’re thinking too much,"* he murmured, his voice low and amused, his thumb brushing against the inside of her wrist. The sensation sent a shiver down her spine, her fingers curling into fists to resist the urge to lean into him.
*"I'm not thinking,"* she lied, her voice barely above a whisper. *"I'm just—"* The words died in her throat as the car took a sharp turn, the sudden shift in momentum pressing her against the door.
Mayank’s smirk deepened, his thumb tracing slow circles on the inside of her wrist.
*"The sky is beautiful today,"* he said suddenly, his fingers tightening around her wrist as the car took another sharp turn, the city lights blurring past the tinted windows. The realization hit her like a punch to the gut—this wasn’t the way back.
The car had taken a sharp turn onto a private driveway, and suddenly they were pulling up to the gleaming glass façade of **Paradise Towers**, its golden lettering winking under the neon glow of the city. Meera’s fingers dug into the leather seat, her pulse hammering against her throat. *This wasn’t the villa.* This was one of Suraj Mehta’s signature hotels—luxurious, exclusive.
The car door opened before she could protest, the night air thick with the scent of jasmine and cigarette smoke. Mayank stepped out first, his tailored jacket stretching over his broad shoulders as he turned to offer her his hand. His dark eyes gleamed with something between amusement and challenge. *"You look like you’ve seen a ghost,"* he murmured, his voice low enough that only she could hear.
His fingers tightened around her wrist, his grip bruising as he pulled her closer, his other hand sliding possessively around her waist. The torn fabric of her dress shifted under his touch, the cool night air brushing against her bare skin where the lace had been ripped away. Meera’s breath hitched, her fingers curling into the front of his jacket as he guided her toward the towering glass doors of the hotel.
The lobby was a sprawling expanse of marble and gold, the air thick with the scent of expensive perfume and the low hum of hushed conversations. A concierge in a crisp black suit glanced up as they approached, his eyes flicking over Meera’s disheveled appearance before settling on Mayank with practiced neutrality. *"Signor Mayank,"* the man greeted smoothly, his voice dripping with deference. *"Your usual suite is ready."*
The concierge’s voice was smooth, practiced, but his eyes betrayed him—they flicked over Meera’s torn dress, her swollen lips, the way Mayank’s fingers dug possessively into her waist. The lobby’s hushed conversations died as they passed, the clink of crystal glasses and the rustle of silk suits fading into silence. Every gaze followed them—men in tailored suits, women in designer gowns, all watching with that same knowing smirk, that same unspoken judgment. Meera’s skin burned under their scrutiny, her fingers tightening around Mayank’s arm as if she could somehow disappear into him.
She had never been so *seen*.
The elevator doors slid open with a soft *ding*, and Mayank guided her inside, his grip unrelenting. The moment the doors closed, he pressed her against the mirrored wall, his body pinning hers in place.
His mouth crashed down on hers with brutal force, his lips sealing over hers so tightly she couldn’t draw breath, couldn’t even whimper. Her hands flew to his chest, nails digging into the expensive fabric of his suit as she tried to push him away, but his grip was iron—one hand tangled in her hair, yanking her head back to deepen the kiss, the other wrapped around her throat just tight enough to make her vision swim. The elevator hummed around them, the soft jazz playing through the speakers a cruel contrast to the way his tongue forced its way past her lips, claiming her mouth like he owned it.
Meera’s lungs burned. She clawed at his wrist, her fingers scrambling against his skin, but he only tightened his hold, his thumb pressing into the delicate hollow of her throat. The pressure was just shy of crushing, just enough to make her head spin, her vision blurring at the edges.
But instead of fighting, Meera’s fingers curled into the lapels of his jacket, pulling him closer. Her lips parted against his, her tongue meeting his with a hunger that matched his own—hot, wet, and desperate. She kissed him back with a ferocity that surprised even herself, her teeth grazing his lower lip before she sucked it into her mouth, biting down just hard enough to make him groan.
The elevator hummed around them, the soft jazz playing through the speakers a cruel contrast to the way their bodies collided—his hands rough and demanding, hers just as fierce. Mayank’s grip on her throat loosened slightly, his thumb stroking the delicate skin beneath her jaw as if testing her surrender. But Meera wasn’t surrendering. She was claiming. Her nails raked down his chest, the fabric of his shirt tearing under her fingers, and when he finally pulled back, his dark eyes were alight with something between triumph and surprise.
The elevator hummed around them, the soft jazz a cruel contrast to the way her chest heaved against his. *If this is what it was*—her body throbbing from his touch, her mind spinning with the filthy, desperate way he’d used her—*then she would not be passive.* She would not be the one left breathless and trembling while he smirked like a man who had already won.
So she struck first.
Her teeth sank into the corded muscle of his neck, sharp and deliberate, her lips sealing around the bite as she sucked hard enough to leave a mark. The taste of salt and skin flooded her mouth, the copper tang of blood blooming beneath her teeth as she bit down harder, her fingers digging into his shoulders for leverage. Mayank’s entire body jerked, a guttural sound tearing from his throat—half groan, half curse—as his grip on her waist tightened to the point of pain.
His breath hitched, his dark eyes flashing with something between shock and dark amusement as her fingers curled around the thick length of him through the fabric of his trousers. The heat of his cock pulsed against her palm, the fabric straining against her grip as she stroked him in slow, deliberate motions, her thumb pressing into the swollen head with just enough pressure to make him hiss.
The elevator doors slid open with a soft *ding*, but neither of them moved. Mayank’s free hand tangled in her hair, yanking her head back so her throat was exposed, his lips brushing against the pulse point beneath her jaw. *"You’re fiesty,"* he murmured, his voice rough with intrigue—but his hips rolled forward into her touch, his cock twitching against her palm as if begging for more.
Meera smirked, her fingers tightening around him as she leaned in, her lips brushing against the shell of his ear.
*"You talk too much,"* she whispered, her breath hot against his skin. Before he could respond, she bit down hard on his earlobe, the coppery tang of blood flooding her mouth as she sucked the tender flesh between her teeth. Mayank’s entire body jerked, a guttural groan tearing from his throat as his grip on her waist tightened to the point of pain.
Then, without warning, he moved.
One moment, she was standing—breathless, defiant, her fingers curled around the thick length of him. The next, his hands were at her waist, his fingers digging into her hips as he lifted her effortlessly off the ground. Meera gasped, her nails raking down his chest as he spun her around, his strength overwhelming her in a way that should have terrified her but only made her wetter.
Before she could react, he dropped her onto the bed with enough force to make her bounce, the mattress dipping beneath her weight. *"This will be a fun night,"* he said, his voice rough with dark promise as he loomed over her, his dark eyes gleaming with something between hunger and triumph.
The penthouse suite was a sprawling expanse of glass and chrome, the city lights of Mumbai sprawling beneath them like a glittering carpet. The bed was massive, draped in black silk that clung to her skin as she scrambled back, her dress riding up around her thighs. Mayank’s gaze followed the movement, his smirk deepening as he took in the way her body trembled—not from fear, but from anticipation.
*"You’re not running,"* he observed, his voice a low purr as he unbuttoned his shirt with slow, deliberate movements.
The fabric parted to reveal the sculpted planes of his chest, the faint red marks from her teeth still visible on his collarbone. *"You’re not even trying."*
Meera’s fingers curled into the silk sheets beneath her, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps as she watched him move. The air between them was thick with tension, the scent of sex and sweat and something darker—something that made her pulse quicken.
Then he moved.
One moment, she was sprawled on the bed, . The next, his hands were on her wrists, pinning them down against the silk with bruising force.
Meera gasped as he yanked his shirt off in one sharp motion, the fabric tearing slightly as he wrapped it around her wrists with practiced efficiency. His fingers worked quickly, the knots tightening with deliberate precision as he secured her to the bedpost. The rough cotton bit into her skin, the sensation sending a jolt of adrenaline through her system.
*"There,"* he murmured, his voice rough with satisfaction as he leaned back to admire his handiwork. *"Much better."* His dark eyes gleamed with dark amusement as he took in the way her chest heaved beneath the torn fabric of her dress, the way her pulse fluttered wildly in her throat. *"Now you can’t run."*
Meera tugged against the restraints, testing their strength, but the knots held firm. The realization sent a fresh wave of heat through her body, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps as she watched him move.
His fingers curled around the torn fabric of her dress, the delicate lace giving way with a sharp *rip* as he tore it apart with a single, brutal motion. The sound echoed through the penthouse suite, raw and obscene, and Meera’s body arched involuntarily, her back pressing into the silk sheets as the cool air hit her exposed skin.
Mayank’s dark eyes burned with something between triumph and dark amusement as he took in the way her dress fell open, revealing the black lace bra beneath. His fingers traced the edge of the lace, his touch deliberate and slow, as if savoring the way her breath hitched at every contact. *"You’re so fucking beautiful when you’re helpless,"* he murmured, his voice rough with dark satisfaction. His other hand slid up her thigh, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he pushed the torn fabric aside, exposing the smooth, golden skin beneath.
His mouth crashed down on hers again, this time with even more force, his tongue forcing its way past her lips as he kissed her deeply, roughly, his fingers tightening in her hair to keep her from pulling away. Meera gasped into his mouth, her breath hitching as his tongue explored every inch of her, tasting her, claiming her, his other hand sliding up to cup her breast through the lace of her bra.
Then, without warning, he pulled back, his dark eyes burning with hunger as he looked down at her. His fingers tightened in her hair, yanking her head back so her throat was exposed, his lips brushing against the pulse point beneath her jaw. *"Open your mouth,"* he commanded, his voice rough with dark promise. Meera hesitated for only a second before parting her lips, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps as she watched him move.
The moment her mouth opened, Mayank didn’t wait—he gripped the base of his cock and shoved it past her lips with a single, brutal thrust.
The thick, veined length filled her mouth instantly, stretching her lips wide as he forced himself deeper. A low, guttural groan tore from his throat as her tongue instinctively curled around the underside of his shaft, the salty taste of him flooding her senses. His fingers tangled in her hair, yanking her head forward until the tip of his cock hit the back of her throat.
*"Fuck,"* he hissed, his hips rolling forward as he buried himself deeper. *"That’s it—take it all."*
Meera’s eyes watered as she struggled to breathe, her hands still bound above her head, the silk sheets twisted beneath her fingers. She gagged around his length, her throat tightening reflexively, but Mayank only tightened his grip in her hair, forcing her to relax.
*"Good girl,"* he growled, his voice rough with dark satisfaction as he felt her throat flutter around the head of his cock. *"Take it like you mean it."*
The sound that tore from her was half-moan, half-choke, the vibration sending a jolt of pleasure straight through him. Her bound hands twisted in the sheets above her head, her nails digging into the silk as she fought the instinct to pull away. But she didn’t. Instead, her lips sealed tighter around him, her tongue swirling in slow, deliberate circles as she took him deeper.
Mayank’s breath hitched, his hips jerking forward involuntarily. *"Fuck, just like that,"* he groaned, his free hand sliding down to grip her jaw, his thumb pressing into the soft flesh of her cheek.
His cock throbbed harder from her wet tongue, the thick veins pulsing against her lips as she worked him deeper, her throat fluttering around the head with every swallow. The sensation was electric, his hips jerking forward involuntarily as he fought the urge to lose control already. But he wouldn’t—he’d make her beg for it first.
Meera’s fingers twisted in the silk sheets, her nails tearing at the fabric as she fought the instinct to pull away. The taste of him was intoxicating, salty and musky, his cock swelling against her tongue with every rough thrust. She could feel the way his body tensed above her, the way his breath hitched when she sucked harder, her lips sealing tighter around him with every retreat. The power of it sent a fresh wave of heat through her, her own body aching with need as she worked him deeper.
Then—without warning—he pulled out completely, his cock slipping from her lips with a wet *pop* that left her gasping.
Before she could react, his palm cracked against her left breast, the sharp sting making her cry out as her back arched off the bed. The impact sent a jolt straight to her core, her nipples hardening painfully as his hand came down again on the other side, his fingers digging into her flesh with bruising force.
*"You like that, don’t you?"* he growled, his voice rough with dark amusement as he watched her writhe beneath him. *"You fucking love it."*
Meera’s breath came in ragged gasps, her body trembling between pleasure and pain as he spanked her breasts again and again, each impact sending fresh waves of heat through her system.
His cock dripped precum onto her lips, the salty bead glistening in the dim light before he smeared it across her mouth with his thumb, forcing her to taste him.
*"You’re fucking dripping for me,"* he growled, his voice rough with satisfaction as he watched her tongue dart out to lick her lips clean. *"Tell me you want it."*
Meera’s fingers curled into the silk sheets, her nails tearing at the fabric as she fought the instinct to pull away.
His fingers traced slow, deliberate circles around her inner thigh, the heat of his touch making her skin prickle with anticipation. Then—without warning—he slid two fingers between her folds, his thumb pressing down on her clit with just enough pressure to make her entire body jerk.*
*"Fuck—"* The curse tore from her lips before she could stop it, her back arching off the bed as his fingers worked her with ruthless precision. He didn’t tease. He didn’t hesitate. He *claimed*, his fingers sliding through her slickness with a wet, obscene sound that made her face burn.
*"So wet for me,"* Mayank murmured, his voice rough with dark satisfaction as he watched her squirm. His fingers curled inside her, pressing against that sensitive spot that made her vision blur. *"You’re dripping, Meera.
Taste yourself."*
His fingers, slick with her arousal, dragged up from her throbbing pussy and pressed against her lips before she could even process the command. The musky, salty tang of her own desire flooded her mouth as he forced her lips apart, his thumb smearing her juices across her tongue with deliberate slowness.
*"That’s you,"* he growled, watching her dark eyes widen in shock before they darkened with something far more dangerous—*recognition*. *"That’s how badly you want this."*
The taste of herself on his fingers sent a jolt straight through her, her bound wrists twisting in the silk restraints as her hips bucked involuntarily against the bed. The silk sheets beneath her were already damp with her own arousal, the fabric clinging to her skin as she writhed.
Mayank’s fingers left her mouth with a wet sound, the taste of her lingering on her tongue as he leaned back, his dark eyes burning with something between triumph and dark amusement.
Then his hand came down—*hard*—not on her breast this time, but between her thighs.
The sharp *crack* of his palm against her swollen pussy sent a jolt of pain and pleasure through her entire body. Meera’s back arched off the bed, a choked cry tearing from her throat as the impact reverberated through her core. Her bound wrists twisted in the silk restraints, her nails digging into her own palms as she fought the instinct to pull away.
*"Fuck—!"* The curse was half-gasp, half-moan, her voice breaking as the sting radiated outward, her clit throbbing in response.
Mayank didn’t let up.
His palm came down again—*harder*—this time catching her clit directly, the sharp sting making her entire body jerk. *"You think you can take it?"* His voice was a low growl, his fingers already sliding back between her folds before the pain could fully register. *"Or do you need me to show you how?"*
Mayank’s voice was a dark purr, thick with amusement as his palm cracked against her clit again—*harder*—the wet *smack* of flesh against flesh echoing through the penthouse.
Meera’s entire body convulsed, her back arching off the bed as a choked scream tore from her throat. Her vision blurred, her fingers clawing at the silk sheets as her thighs trembled violently. Then—*it happened*—a sudden, overwhelming rush of heat and pressure as her body betrayed her, her pussy clenching around nothing as a hot, shameful gush of fluid soaked the sheets beneath her.
Mayank’s laughter was low, rough, and utterly *delighted*. His dark eyes gleamed with triumph as he watched her squirt wetly, the slick sound of her release dripping onto the silk sheets beneath her.
*"That’s it,"* he murmured, his voice rough with dark satisfaction. *"Come for me like a good girl."*
Tired and sore, she slumped. He pushes his fingers inside without giving her rest.
The sudden intrusion made her gasp, her body still trembling from the aftershocks of her orgasm. Mayank’s fingers were relentless, sliding deep inside her with no warning, no mercy. He curled them upward, pressing against that sensitive spot that made her vision blur, his thumb circling her clit with deliberate cruelty.
*"You’re not done yet,"* he growled, his voice rough with dark amusement as he watched her writhe beneath him. *"Not even close."*
Meera’s fingers twisted in the silk sheets, her nails tearing at the fabric as she fought the overwhelming sensation. Her body was still hypersensitive, every touch sending fresh waves of pleasure and pain through her system.
But Mayank wasn’t done. With a rough grip on her hips, he flipped her onto her stomach, yanking her up onto her knees in one brutal motion. The silk sheets tangled around her wrists as she scrambled to brace herself, her breath coming in ragged gasps as her cheek pressed against the damp fabric. The position left her completely exposed, her ass lifted high in the air, her thighs trembling from the force of his handling.
Before she could even process the shift, his palm came down hard against her right cheek—the sharp *crack* of flesh on flesh echoing through the penthouse. Meera cried out, her fingers clawing at the sheets as the sting radiated through her entire body. The impact was different this time, deeper, more intimate.
Her pussy dripped from his brutal fingers, the slick sound of her arousal filling the room as he curled them inside her, pressing against that spot that made her entire body shudder. The sheets beneath her were soaked, the silk clinging to her thighs as she trembled, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
And then—*suddenly*—he slammed into her.
There was no warning. No teasing. Just the thick, brutal length of his cock forcing its way inside her in one merciless thrust. Meera’s entire body jerked forward, her bound wrists twisting in the silk restraints as a choked scream tore from her throat. The sensation was overwhelming—pain and pleasure twisting together as he buried himself to the hilt, his hips slamming against her ass with enough force to make the bed shake."* The curse was half-gasp, half-moan, her voice breaking as her body struggled to accommodate him.
Mayank’s fingers dug into her hips, his grip bruising as he pulled her back against him with every brutal thrust, his cock slamming into her so hard the bed shook beneath them. Meera’s bound wrists twisted in the silk restraints, her nails tearing at the fabric as she screamed again—this time louder, raw and unfiltered, her voice breaking as he fucked her harder, his hips slamming against her ass with a force that made her vision blur.
The sound of their bodies colliding filled the penthouse—wet, obscene, and utterly unrelenting. Mayank’s breath was ragged, his chest heaving against her back as he pounded into her with ruthless precision, his cock stretching her to the point of pain. Every thrust sent a fresh jolt of sensation through her, her pussy clenching around him instinctively, her body betraying her even as she screamed for him to stop.
Then, without warning, his hands were on her breasts—rough, possessive—his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he yanked her upright against him, her back pressed flush against his chest.
*"Beg for it,"* he growled, his voice a dark rasp against her ear as he stilled inside her, his cock buried to the hilt, pulsing with the effort of restraint. His fingers tightened around her nipples, twisting just enough to make her gasp, the sharp sting cutting through the haze of pleasure. *"Tell me you want it,Simran. Tell me you fucking need it."*
His breath was hot against her neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin as he waited, his cock throbbing inside her, the pressure unbearable.
The words clawed up her throat, raw and desperate, her body trembling with a need that burned hotter than her pride.
*"Please—"* The word tore from her lips, broken and breathless, her voice trembling as much as her thighs. *"Fuck me. Just—fuck me."*
The moment the plea left her, her pussy clenched around him involuntarily, the slick heat of her betraying her completely. Her bound wrists twisted in the silk restraints, her nails digging into her own palms as she fought the shame of surrender—but her body was already arching back against him, her hips rolling in a silent demand for more. The wet, obscene sound of her arousal filled the air, the sheets beneath them soaked with the evidence of how badly she wanted this.
Mayank’s low chuckle vibrated against her back, dark and triumphant.
*"That’s my good girl,"* he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction as his fingers twisted her nipples just hard enough to make her gasp. Then—without warning—he slammed into her again, his cock forcing its way deeper, harder, his hips snapping against her ass with a brutal rhythm that made the bed shake beneath them.
**"Yes—yes—!"** The words tore from Meera’s throat, raw and unfiltered, her voice breaking as her body betrayed her completely. Her bound wrists twisted in the silk restraints, her nails clawing at the fabric as her back arched, her ass lifting higher to meet every punishing thrust. The sound of their bodies colliding filled the penthouse—wet, obscene, the slick slap of flesh against flesh echoing off the glass walls.
Mayank’s fingers dug into her hips, his grip bruising as he yanked her forward, bending her completely over the edge of the bed. The silk sheets tangled around her wrists as he pressed her face down into the damp fabric, her ass lifted high in the air, completely exposed. His cock never left her, still buried to the hilt as he shifted position, his free hand sliding down her spine with deliberate slowness.
Then—without warning—his finger pressed against the tight ring of her ass.
Meera’s entire body stiffened, her breath catching in her throat as she felt the cool pressure against her most forbidden place. *"No—"* The protest tore from her lips, but it came out weak, breathless, her voice trembling as much as her thighs.
Before she could even process the violation, Mayank’s finger pressed forward, the cool pressure giving way to a sharp, burning stretch as the tip breached her tightest hole.
The sensation was unlike anything she’d ever felt—*wrong*, yet somehow *inevitable*, the way his finger slid deeper with ruthless precision, her body betraying her as it yielded to the intrusion. Meera’s fingers clawed at the silk sheets, her nails tearing into the fabric as her back arched involuntarily, her ass lifting higher in the air as if offering itself to him. The wet, obscene sound of her pussy clenching around his cock filled the room, her arousal dripping down her thighs as her body trembled between pain and pleasure.
*"Fuck—"* The curse was half-gasp, half-moan, her voice breaking as his finger curled inside her, pressing against a spot that made her entire body jerk.
The silk sheets twisted beneath her fingers, her nails tearing at the fabric as her hips bucked back against him, her body betraying her even as she screamed for him to stop.
Mayank’s chuckle was dark, triumphant, his free hand tightening in her hair as he yanked her head back, forcing her to arch her spine. *"You love this,"* he growled, his voice rough with satisfaction as he worked his finger deeper, the burn of the intrusion sending fresh waves of heat through her system. *"You fucking love every second of it."*
The dual sensation of being stretched, filled, *claimed* was overwhelming—his cock pounding into her pussy with ruthless precision while his finger slid in and out of her ass with deliberate cruelty.