Faking It With a Billionaire || MaAn

Chapter 21 | Anupama

The ground is yanked out from under me, sending shockwaves through my system, catching me utterly off guard.

"Anuj!" I holler, smacking his back with all the force I can muster. "You better put me down this instant!"

He doesn't miss a step. Anuj strides down the hallway, unfazed by my smacks and futile attempts to wriggle free from his iron grip.

"Give my ass another good smack, Anupama," he quips, his voice laced with a wicked undertone, "and I'll happily bend you over my knee and return the favor."

"You wouldn't dare," I seethe, my legs flailing about in protest. Unfortunately, my struggles only prompt him to clutch me tighter as he carries us down the stairs.

His laughter takes on a sinister edge. "You're dead wrong about that. Nothing would please me more than to imagine leaving your ass rosy, aside from actually doing it, of course."

If I weren't seething at him for his antics earlier today and for abducting me here against my will, I might have found his comment undeniably arousing. Truth be told, the mental image of his handprint on my ass sends a shiver down my spine. I'd willingly accept the sting of his palm on my sensitive skin if it meant he'd be playing with other parts of me too.

Wait a damn minute. I squeeze my thighs together, attempting to get my clit and mind with the reality that I'm currently furious with Anuj.

"Did my filthy talk really shut you up?" he smirks, his actions at odds with his words as he gently lowers me into one of the chairs by the kitchen island. He leans in closer, resting his hands on the armrests on either side of me. Something has clearly shifted the dynamic between us, and I hadn't anticipated him being this bold or talking this dirty. If anything, I thought reminding him of the ground rules we established for this fake fiancé charade would make him think twice about getting too close.

His proximity is suffocating, and the way he leans in until his lips barely graze mine sends a clear message – it's the complete opposite of awkward conversation.

"Tell me, Anupama, does the idea of me spanking your pussy makes you met? Does the taste me devouring your fucking cunt makes you more tight? It might sting at first, but I promise I'll make you feel damn good after," he murmurs, his words dripping with raw desire.

I'm utterly stunned, lost for words. I had anticipated that our post-kiss conversation would be awkward, but Anuj had other plans. He's taken a sledgehammer to all the reasons why hooking up with him is a terrible idea, appealing to that primal part of me that wants him so fiercely that I'd throw caution to the wind and abandon our agreement if it meant he'd follow through on his tantalizing promises.

He clicks his tongue, pulling my bottom lip from between my teeth. I hadn't even realized I'd been biting it, but it was all in a desperate attempt to stifle a moan at the way he'd casually tossed around words like 'pussy' and 'spanking' in the same sentence. They sounded downright filthy, but damn, they were scorching coming from his sinful mouth.

"Don't fret, sweetheart. I'm just as turned on—maybe even more so—by the thought of how soaked you must be underneath those damn pajama pants of yours. If my words can make you this wet, just imagine what certain parts of my body can do to you," he purrs.

My sexual history is a landscape of vanilla encounters, but I know, just from the filthy words tumbling from Anuj's lips, that sex with him would be anything but vanilla.

My trembling hands reach out, clutching the soft fabric of his T-shirt. In that critical moment, I grapple with a decision: do I pull him closer and ravish his mouth, forcing him to make good on every one of his erotic promises, or do I shove him away, creating the space I desperately need to regain my composure?