Snapshots of Desire ✔ [Completed]

Beautiful Mess

Shreya wants to thank Daya for his help, but when she does, things get a little out of hand... maybe PWP (I never know this), but it's really MIGHTY GRAPHIC and FIRMLY RATED M! So if you don't like that- you shouldn't read this story.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

In the night, he had the dream again.

Vikram was in the office once more, all smug self-confidence and blatant arrogance, but Shreya didn't give him an iota of her attention. Instead, she was straddling her senior’s thighs on his couch, kissing his face, his lips, his jaw, his throat, the sweet caresses showering down on his skin like soothing rain.

In his dream, Daya sighed in pleasure. Vikram narrowed his eyes at them in disbelief, but Daya just gave him a cocky grin and a slow shrug. Yes, she was his, his alone. Murderous billionaires could fuck off.

He woke up when Shreya's hands started to wander lower on his chest, his exhausted mind still alert enough to warn him against the implications. He had never dreamed about actual sex with her, he couldn't allow himself to entertain fantasies like that.

Dammit. He sat up on his bed and pushed his hands through his hair. He was a mess. Usually, he maintained an iron control over his dreams. He hadn't had nightmares in years, used to evoking a deep, almost comatose slumber whenever he managed to fall asleep. These days, he constantly dreamed about Shreya engaging him in sensual foreplay. Or had horrible nightmares where he was always too late, finding her bled out corpse in shadowy streets.

He had just worked up the courage to let her go, to almost wish for her to find a man who could give her what she needed. Really. He knew he could never be this man, that she deserved so much more than him. He was a loser, always walking close to the edge of the abyss. He didn't even know what he would do after her. Five years ago, the answer would have been easy: he had always planned to kill himself after he had managed to extinguish his nemesis. But now? He wasn't so sure any longer. Slowly, something strange had crept into his mind, something that sparked life and hope and a lust to see the future. He shuddered. He couldn't look too closely at it, not now.

He was nothing but the sorry carcass Purbi had left when he had left her.

What was almost worse, he was a liar, a cheat, while Shreya wore the halo of purity around her head, her eyes so open and honest he wondered how she had even managed lying to her own feelings.

He watched his reflection in the panes of the windows.

He still looked tired. His dreams wore him out, glimpses of a hopeful future he still didn't quite dare to grab. A shower seemed like a good idea, so he collected some stuff and left his sanctuary, slowly walking to the next room.

He needed to forget. Needed sensations on his skin to replace her dream kisses.

But the fantasy never really left him- he was just too stubborn to look at it.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

Shreya turned the heater in her office to full blast, the air was already toasty warm, but she still felt freezing.

Ever since she had arrested Vikram she'd carried a sense of dirtiness with her. She wasn't proud of what she had done to get the killer this time. But it had been the right decision, and she didn't regret her deeds.

Strangely, it had evoked an eerie compassion for Daya deep inside her: he lived inside a tangle of lies and deception, and it had to be awfully hard to keep his head above the waves. She had always known what he was doing, had never closed her eyes against the worst in him, so she wasn't shocked. But it had sparked a deep sorrow inside her. They needed to escape this fake reality. She craved to be upright and honest with him. See him face the truth without escape.