THE BETRAYAL - CHAPTER THREE
Neha stood at the kitchen counter and sipped her drink. She couldn't contain her excitement. Hari was right. Things were different now that he lived with them. It had only been a couple weeks since the honeymoon, but Neha was starting to see how they could manage.
It was still new, chancing glances at him whenever her mother was occupied, but they were establishing a system. It wasn't quite a routine, but Neha was delighted to have him in her life. They were already spending far more time together than they would have been able to otherwise.
Her mother was finishing her breakfast in a hurry. It was the weekend, which were the busiest days for the flower shop. For Neha and Hari, it was a window of opportunity. It was difficult to act like she wasn't thinking about him. All the ways that he would touch her as soon as Asha was out the door.
Hari was reading by the window, but he stood up to walk Asha out. Neha looked away and started to wash dishes when he leaned in to kiss her mother. Neha didn't want to see. She wanted to live the fantasy that he was hers, and that his marriage to her mother meant nothing.
It was a demonstration of his love for
her
, Neha. It was the only way they could live together. Not everyone would have taken such a risk, but he had. Neha told herself that there was clearer affirmation of their love for one another, and he had been so sweet upon moving in. Doting and supportive.
They had already had a couple of close calls. It was so difficult to keep their hands off of each other until the weekend. Only a few days before, Neha had been unpacking the last of the boxes when she felt his kiss on her neck, his fingers on her hips. She hadn't moved, not knowing where her mother was in the house. He'd pulled away just in time. Asha rounded the corner. Hari was already across the room, delving into another box. Neha had been left trembling with desire. She loved being teased and receiving any attention from him even if it was perilous.
There were nights when Neha was still left restless. He couldn't leave Asha's bed every night. On those nights, Neha found herself listening for them, but heard nothing. No moans of rapture or ragged groans. She wondered if her mother had ever made a move on Hari or if he was the one who instigated everything on their honeymoon.
She still had nights where she lay awake without him, asking such questions. However, none of them compared to the distress she had felt during their honeymoon and right after they had returned. The silence that she heard every night in the corridors soothed most of her anxiety-ridden doubt.
Neha scrubbed the dishes. She heard the door shut. Her mother had left for the flower shop after the kiss on her cheek. Neha heard footsteps. Hari's footsteps but she didn't turn around to greet him. Instead, she waited.
She'd worn a long kameez for him with cotton leggings underneath. It was casual enough to wear around him while her mother was home, but still showed off her figure, especially without the constrains of a bra. He reached under the hem and tugged the band of her leggings. He kissed her neck like he had before when they had almost been caught.
"I thought you said we should wait a few minutes," Neha said with a grin that he couldn't see. They'd talked about how waiting 5 minutes after her mother had left was wise, just in case she forgot something and came back.
"You're irresistible. How could I possibly?" Hari responded. She laughed but her breath caught when he reached under her leggings, teasing the edge of her panties.
"Breaking your own rules," she scolded him. Playful, breathless.
"You like it, I know you do," Hari told her. She gasped as his fingers made contact, compelling her sweet cunt. She leaned into him, feeling his firm chest on her back. She started to yank her leggings down, but he shook his head, his lips grazing her jaw from behind.
"Not until I say," he told her. His fingers claimed her, dragging her panties to the side and indulging in her wetness. She turned toward him, leaning back as he readjusted his position and his fingers sprang further up inside of her.
Hari loved watching the expressions fly across her face, the range of her abandon. Her back was wet from the edge of the sink, but she didn't care. Neha's braid snaked around her neck and over one shoulder down the side of her breasts. Hari leaned in to kiss her while her eyes were closed from the pleasure.
She grew louder as their kiss mirrored the rhythm of his fingers inside of her. Neha barely registered that he was pulling her away from the sink. They tumbled down the hall in each other's arms, stripping each other down.
It was a game. Who could strip more of the other person's clothes. Neha giggled. She was in nothing but her kameez by the time they reached the bedroom. Hari was in his briefs. Her grin was triumphant. Hari wanted to humble her.
Hari climbed over her, grinding against her, but when she moved to kiss him or reach into his briefs, he pulled away with a taunting smile. In rebellion, she started to touch herself. Her fingers desperate and unhinged. Hari pulled her hands away.
"You can't always get your way," he told her.
"Oh, really?" She said, reaching for his cock again. He evaded her grip and held fast to her wrists, bringing them back by her head against the sheets.
"Yes. Really," he emphasized. She struggled but to no avail.
"But you like giving me what I want," Neha said.
