Chapter 20: flight is fun
The champagne bubbles went straight to my head, making the entire first-class cabin feel like a dizzying dream. "This is insane," I whispered, running my fingers over the supple leather armrest. Vishal smiled, a slow, knowing curve of his lips as he signaled the attendant for another glass. "Get used to it, Ria. This is how we travel." His hand, heavy and warm, settled on my bare knee, his thumb stroking idle circles that sent shivers up my thigh. I caught a glimpse of Didi in the next cabin, her face pale and tight, her eyes begging me to stop this. I just took a long sip of champagne, the bubbles sharp on my tongue, and turned away from her judgment.
His fingers crept higher under my skirt, a deliberate, teasing invasion. "Relax," he murmured, his breath hot against my ear. "She can't do anything." I was melting under his touch, my head lolling back against the seat as his skilled fingers found the damp lace of my panties. He hooked a finger under the fabric, pulling it aside, and then his touch was on my bare skin, electric and demanding. A soft, helpless moan escaped me as he began to move, his fingers working a ruthless, perfect rhythm against my clit. "Quiet," he warned, his voice a low growl as my hips bucked against his hand. The world narrowed to the humming of the engines and the building pressure between my legs, a tight, coiling spring. I came with a choked gasp, my body seizing, my fingers clawing at his wrist as pleasure, sharp and blinding, ripped through me.
He withdrew his wet fingers, wiping them casually on a linen napkin. "Your turn," he said, his gaze dropping to his lap. My heart hammered against my ribs as I fumbled with his belt, the metal clasp cold under my trembling fingers. I glanced once more at Didi’s horrified stare, then lowered my head, taking him into my mouth. It was strange and awkward at first, the taste bitter, the act feeling foreign. "Deeper," he commanded, his hand tangling in my hair, guiding me, pushing me. A switch flipped inside me, a dark thrill at his rough control, at the power of reducing this powerful man to a low, guttural groan. I lost myself in the rhythm, in the salt and musk of him, until he shuddered and spilled into my throat, his grip on my hair tightening to the point of pain. I swallowed, the act a final, shocking surrender.
The bitter taste still lingered on my tongue as I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, catching Saumya’s horrified stare from the adjacent cabin. “What?” I whispered, the word sounding defensive and small even to me.
Vishal chuckled softly, buckling his belt with a crisp, final click. “Don’t mind her, Ria. She’s just jealous of the... perks.” He leaned back, closing his eyes as if the entire encounter was merely a pleasant diversion. My face flushed with a mixture of shame and a strange, rebellious pride.
I stood up on unsteady legs, the champagne and the recent exertion making the cabin tilt. “I’ll be right back,” I murmured, needing to escape his penetrating gaze and the thick, charged air. I pushed through the heavy curtain separating the first-class cabin, finding Saumya alone, her knuckles white as she gripped her armrests.
“Have you lost your mind?” she hissed, her voice trembling with a fury I hadn’t seen since Vishal’s office. “In public? On a plane? How could you be so... cheap?”
“Cheap?” I shot back, my own anger flaring. “This isn’t cheap, Didi, this is first class. This is how things are for me now. Something you wouldn’t understand, stuck with a loser like Vikram.”
Her slap was swift and sharp, cracking across my cheek with a sting that silenced the low hum of the engines. “He is your husband!” she cried, tears welling in her eyes. “Or have you forgotten the wedding? Forgotten our family? That man... he took me in a steam room, he... he broke me, Ria.”
I touched my burning cheek, defiance hardening inside me. “He didn’t break you, he showed you what you’re worth. And Vikram? He just stood and watched, didn’t he? He’s weak. Vishal is strong. He gives me things, treats me like I matter.”
“Matter?” she scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping her. “You matter as much as a new toy. He used me the same way until he got bored. He will discard you, too.”
“You’re wrong,” I said, my voice dropping to a venomous whisper. “It’s different with me. I’m not a frightened little wife he had to break. I want this. I want him. And I’m not going to let you ruin it for me.”
I turned and walked away, leaving her crying silently in the dim cabin light, the gulf between us now as wide and as deep as the ocean we flew over.
The plane’s wheels hit the tarmac with a jarring thud, the reality of the ground a stark contrast to the dizzying altitude of what we’d done. Customs was a blur of harsh lights and mumbled answers, my body still humming from his touch and the champagne. Vishal guided us to a waiting black SUV, its darkened windows promising total seclusion. "Finally, some privacy," he sighed, sliding in beside me as Saumya climbed in opposite, her body rigid with silent protest.
The car pulled away from the city lights, plunging us into the deep velvet of the outskirts. "This is reckless, Vishal," Saumya finally whispered, her voice strained. "You need to control yourself." He just laughed, a low, dark sound as his hand found my knee, his fingers pushing my skirt up my thigh. "I am in control," he murmured, his breath hot against my neck. "Always."
The partition was up, the driver oblivious, the world outside a meaningless streak of shadows. His other hand worked his belt buckle, the metallic clink stark in the quiet car. "Vishal, don't," Saumya pleaded, her warning a desperate echo. He ignored her, his movements deliberate, his gaze locked on mine. "It's time, Ria," he said, his voice leaving no room for debate.
The sheer physicality of it, the hard, demanding pressure, cut through my drunken haze. This wasn't the skilled fingers on the plane; this was something else entirely, something final. A cold spike of clarity pierced the warm fog in my head. "Wait," I gasped, my hands pushing against his chest. "No, stop." But he was already moving, a force of nature I had foolishly invited, and the world narrowed to the terrifying, inevitable weight of him.
But he was already moving, a force of nature I had foolishly invited, and the world narrowed to the terrifying, inevitable weight of him.
“Vishal, wait.” Saumya’s voice cut through the tension, startlingly firm. Her hand landed on his arm, not pleading but insistent. “She’s not ready for that. Let me.” His movement halted, his predatory focus shifting from me to her, a flicker of intrigued surprise in his eyes. “Let you?” he echoed, a slow, dark smile spreading across his face as he understood. He settled back, granting a silent, cruel permission. Saumya moved beside me, her previous anger replaced by a unsettling calm. “Just relax, Ria,” she whispered, her fingers tracing a slow, deliberate line from my knee up my inner thigh. Her touch was different from his—softer, yet more knowing. A jolt, hot and confusing, shot through me. “Dekh, kitni garmi hai isme,” she murmured, her breath hot against my neck as her skilled fingers found the dampness he had left behind. My breath hitched, a weak protest dying in my throat as her thumb began to circle my clit with an expert rhythm that made my back arch off the leather seat. “Haan, aise hi,” she coaxed, her other hand slipping under my blouse to cup my small breast, her thumb scraping over the nipple. The dual sensation was overwhelming, a confusing firestorm of shame and raw need. I was losing myself, my hips moving against her hand of their own volition. Then her mouth was on me, her tongue a flat, hot stroke that made me cry out. “Aaaaaah! Didi!” I screamed, my fingers tangling in her hair as her tongue dove deeper, faster. “Chut phaad do!” I heard myself beg, the crude words tearing from me as the pleasure built to an unbearable peak. Vishal watched, his hand roughly squeezing my other breast, his rough grip a counterpoint to her devouring mouth. “Bahut khubsoorat lag rahi hai,” he growled, twisting my nipple as the orgasm ripped through me, violent and convulsing. I shattered, my scream echoing in the confined space, my body seizing uncontrollably under their combined assault.
The SUV’s tires crunched over the resort’s pristine gravel drive, the sound slicing through the heavy silence left by my scream. Vishal’s mouth, hot and demanding, closed over my small breast through the thin fabric of my blouse. His teeth found my nipple, biting down with a precise, possessive pressure that made me gasp and arch against the leather seat. “Ssssh, bas,” Saumya whispered, her hand still moving between my legs with a practiced, relentless rhythm, her fingers slick from my own body. The car rolled to a smooth stop beneath the grand portico, but no one moved to get out.
Headlights from the resort illuminated the interior, casting long, distorted shadows. “Almost there, baby,” Vishal murmured against my skin, his tongue soothing the sting of his bite before his teeth found my other nipple. A sharp, bright pain lanced through me, merging with the pleasure Saumya’s fingers were coaxing from my oversensitive flesh. “Be ready,” he said, the words a low command. Saumya’s eyes met mine over his shoulder, her expression unreadable. “Haan, be ready,” she echoed, her voice flat, her thumb pressing hard against my clit one last time.
The driver’s door clicked open. And yes, I was more than ready for the night.