Seductionandsin Stories

Avantika Sharma-fierce, flawed, and unflinchingly bold-is a journalist chasing ghosts. One scandal buried under hospital walls. One sister lost to the lies. And one name keeps rising from the ashes: Daksh Singhania. Enter Vikram Singhania-billionaire tycoon, ruthless strategist, and the man who watches Avantika like she's the fuse to a bomb he buried years ago. He warns her to stop. Offers her distractions wrapped in luxury and veiled threats. But she's already in too deep. Then there's Maya-Daksh's widow. Exiled. Burned. Dangerous. She's done grieving. And now? She wants blood. As secrets slip through velvet gloves and lies dance in designer heels, Avantika finds herself at the mercy of two empires: one she's trying to expose, and one she might be destined to destroy. The mask we wear. peels back the layers of glamour, power, and betrayal-revealing a world where even love has a body count.

He strokes himself with his eyes closed, and there he is-laid out in front of him, thighs parted, skin slick with desire. He imagines his hand sliding up that throat, feeling the shiver rise under his palm before tightening just enough to draw a gasp. His mouth would follow-hungry-down that taut chest, licking, biting, until a rough moan spills out. He knows how that body would respond: the way the hips would lift, aching for more, when his tongue moves lower, so much lower, tasting that salty, trembling skin. And those eyes... those 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 eyes drowning in pleasure, staring back at him with that kind of yielding that would drag a growl from his chest. He sinks deeper into it-deeper into the vision-imagining his fingers there, buried to the knuckles, while the other writhes beneath him, lips swollen from begging too long.