Chapter 18

" What are you looking at. Take that oil and massage my back. I won't repeat myself. Do it".

" N-no".

" What "? His warning gazed through the question.

" N-no. I-I will call Ridhima sir".

" Shut up and just do what I say. I didn't ask her. I asked you".

" I don't want to".

" It doesn't matter. Will you massage or should I massage you ".

" P-please ".

He looked up at her and stood up and his hand was directed towards her clothing as he tried to unpin the saree when she clutched his hand backing away. She looked at him with dread as she stuttered.

" K-kya.. kya kar rahein aap"?

(W-what... What are you doing sir).

" As I said if you won't massage me I'll massage you".

Saying that he tried to unpin her saree further when she tried to escape from his grasp while her hands clutched his hand to stop him from unpinning it.

"No no no. No. I will - I will do as you said".

His hands stilled as he let go of her and sat back. Having no choice she reluctantly bought oil from the table and sat on the stool he offered her which is behind him.

Her jaw dropped upon seeing his naked back. It is not just his front that has tattoos. He had them on his back as well. His back was almost covered with tattoos with tits and bits of space in between.

"Will you start or you'll continue to stare my back".

She came out of her haze and couraged herself with a pep talk before she took some oil into her hand and spread it on his back shoulders. At first touch, she shrank back at the contact before taking a deep breath trying to boost herself up and then she started to press her hands on his back muscles trying her best to give him a massage. Rubbing oil on his back simultaneously to lubricate the motion she started to press on his back.

"Harder".

He said and she started to press stronger from one point to another point like a pressing machine involving her body with the movement to add pressure while he sat as a rock with no movement. She continued massaging him for a while before he asked her to stop and leave his room.

She thanked her stars as a sigh left her mouth. She felt her hands numb and painful with all the strength she used on him. Standing up she didn't waste a movement on leaving that room.

While she was leaving he immediately looked up at her ass as she walked away. He never realized but it became his habit to look at her ass while she was walking. It's been days and weeks since he is doing this. Apart from this, he is doing more. But in her absolute absence. Sometimes in the office, sometimes in his room whenever she visits his mind. He feels like a horny teenager when he revises the number of times he jerks off remembering her. But things aren't stopping at jerking off. How long can he resist himself by just jerking off? He is wanting more. He tried alternative methods by visiting a girl but he ended up coming imaging that amateur as Aasha. He is spellbound by her. Or her body. Her mere presence is affecting him. Even her small voice talks are affecting him. Listening to her voice he many times wondered how it would be if she moans his name in that small voice. How her voice sounds when she screams in sheer pleasure. How it would be when she curses while she reaches her climax.

Suddenly feeling his pants tight he looked down as a frustrated sigh left from his mouth. He clenched his jaw and looked away as he ran his hand over his face.

What the fuck should I do.

Throwing the newspaper away he got up and walked to the washroom to take a cold bath.

Later he was served breakfast as he took glances at her from time to time making her nervous but she avoided his gaze. The day continued as usual and when Aasha came across Yamini Asha avoided eye contact with her finding it difficult to put out her decision when she was being nice to her.

The day came when he asked her to get ready for a party. Once she visited him in his office room and requested him if she can't come to the party but he straightforwardly denied it. When she tried to interrogate the reason he gave her a mean answer about how she wasn't in the position to ask but only act as he said. She tried her best but when he became violent she backed away and just accepted her fate.

In the evening a saree was sent to her and she picked it up to find a beautiful black saree. But keeping it aside she took out a embroidery white georgette saree for herself which looked simple with work on the border and the blouse.

Tying the saree she put some minimal makeup of eyeliner and a light shade lip balm and a small bindi (dot ) on her forehead. She put on a simple low bun with a side partition leaving a few twirled strands to her side with long earrings. She didn't care to put on any necklace as it was high neck and bangles were however a no to her. It was after a very long time she dolled up herself and was going out for a function. If his presence was ignored she found it as a good change and felt fresh for going out. But at the same time, anxiety is eating her up. She has a very big introvert trait and doesn't like to socialize with people. She prefers to spend her own time on herself lonely. And another reason is that she doesn't know where he was taking and she has no choice but to listen. She doesn't know what's coming for her at an unknown place.

After getting ready she just sat on her bed contemplating whether to go out or not when her intercom rang. Picking it up she heard him ordering her to come down. Sighing out she climbed the stairs down and when she looked up she found him staring at her with void expressions. His expression gave out nothing but his eyes were shimmering. Looking away she came down and walked to him looking down. There was a moment of silence between them before he spoke.

"I sent you a dress already".

"I-I have this saree".

She stuttered and he gripped her arm in a tight clutch as his jaw hardened and she gasped in his hold.

"Are you disobeying me again"?

Dread filled in her as she looked up at him with her eyes wide open, her mouth open and closed in panic. It was again a mistake of her to think he wouldn't mind choosing her saree for herself. After all, it is just a saree that she would wear. Not him. Then how does it matter? But his hardened jaw and determined gaze, his tightening grip on her arm sent chills down her spine. In no way she isn't ready to face his wrath again.

"Saree didn't fit me".

She blurted out a Solly lie and he rose a brow at her. Realizing what a failed lie she lies she changed her sentence.

"B-blouse. Blouse needs repair. I-it is torn from the side. I-it is tight for me".

She blinked her eyes as she breathed out shakily. Her throat bobbed as she tried to maintain the contact and eventually dropped her gaze down. He took in the small details of her action with his pointed stare.

She glanced at him and dropped her gaze back. Giving her a once-over look he began to pull her to the car.

After reaching the party he locked her arm with his and walked into the hall.

Reaching there all she heard was slow music with small murmuring talks and saw people in their elite costumes. Some ladies wore delicate saree with buns tied up elegantly while some young ladies wore tight-fitting gowns shaping their body while the men were dressed in suits. Almost in everyone's hand, there were wine glasses as they roamed from one point to the other while there are a small bunch of ladies groups that looked as if they are gossiping through whispers. There is a dim yellow light sprawled over the hall while the surrounding was shining. Overall it looked so rich and Elite class for which she felt so out of place. She looked down at her saree and somewhat felt thankful for her choice. Coincidentally the saree matched the theme. But the woman here looked bold while she looked simple and docile.

She felt his arm slipping from her locked arm and felt his hand on her waist. She flinched and jumped to her side to make a distance when he pulled her into his side with a jerk causing her to look up at him. Her hand tried to take off his hand from her waist when he gritted his teeth and smiled with his tight lips at her.