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They said Meera was lucky.
That she had a charmed life — wealth, luxury, freedom.

What they didn't see was the hollow silence in her twenty-bedroom house, the way she sat at candlelit dinners alone while her parents FaceTimed from yet another foreign hotel suite. She had grown up dressed in designer labels but craved warmth more than fashion. Her parents loved her from afar — just far enough to leave her untouched by any real affection.

She had perfected the role of the confident, sexy, untouchable woman. But inside, she was just... starving — for connection, for attention, for someone who looked through her, not at her.

Her heels clicked against the polished hallway of the new college she'd joined that week. Her curves moved in rhythm under her fitted black skirt and tucked-in silk blouse. She looked like a woman who owned the world — but today, she felt like a girl looking for a reason to stay.

The classroom was mostly empty. Except for him.

He stood alone at the far end — tall, lean, wrapped in authority and mystery. His black shirt fit him perfectly, the sleeves pushed up to reveal veined forearms. His fingers moved slowly across the whiteboard, writing something in smooth, masculine strokes.

When he turned, Meera's breath caught.

Aarav.
Professor. Probably early thirties.
Eyes deep, voice calm, gaze sharp.

There was something dangerously quiet about him — like the stillness right before thunder.

"You're early," he said, his voice low and even, but his eyes... they lingered on her. Just for a second.

Meera smiled — slow, sultry. "Couldn't resist Literature."

"Hm." His lips curled slightly. "Sit wherever you like."

His eyes moved away, but her pulse didn't slow. She walked to the first row, her hips swaying with deliberate elegance. She could feel his eyes trail her just long enough to warm her skin.

As more students entered, the air shifted to routine. But Meera was far from focused. Every time his voice echoed across the room, her thighs pressed tighter. There was something about the way he spoke — low, firm, deliberate. No extra words. Just enough to leave her wanting more.

She imagined that voice whispering her name, closer. Lower.

And God... the control in his movements. The way his shirt clung to his back when he turned. The heat pooling inside her was no longer just curiosity. It was a need that throbbed under her skin.

After class, when the others had left, she stayed.

"Professor Aarav," she purred, walking up to him slowly, her blouse just slightly loosened now, lips glossed and inviting.

He looked up. Calm. Still unreadable.

"I missed the last quote," she said, leaning forward. "Was too distracted by... your arms."

He didn't blink. But his gaze dropped — for half a second — to the swell of her chest. And returned.

"Pay attention next time, Meera," he said, voice quiet but edged. "I don't repeat myself. And I don't play games."

She smiled wider. So he noticed.

The moonlight poured through the sheer curtains, casting soft shadows across the bedroom, illuminating the restless form of Meera caught in the throes of desire. The sheets felt damp against her skin as she tossed and turned, her heart racing—not from the heat of the night, but from the memory that consumed her.

Aarav's voice echoed in her mind, deep and resonant, sending shivers down her spine. She recalled the way he had looked at her, those smoldering eyes that seemed to see right through her, igniting a fire within her that she had never experienced before. The way her name had rolled off his tongue—Meera—swirled in her thoughts like a sweet melody. It was intoxicating and maddening all at once. 

With a breathless sigh, Meera bit her lower lip, her fingers grazing over her own skin, tracing the curves of her body. She could feel the heat pooling in her core, an ache that begged for release. It wasn't just pleasure she craved—it was the connection, the longing for someone who could ignite her desires. For the first time, she wanted someone, and that someone was Aarav. 

Her hand slipped lower, hesitating for a brief moment as the anticipation built within her. She closed her eyes, surrendering to the sensations that washed over her. The soft caress of her fingers against her skin felt electric, each stroke sending ripples of warmth through her. The world outside faded away, leaving only the sound of her shallow breaths and the pounding of her heart.

“Aah, Aarav…” she whispered, the name slipping from her lips like a prayer. The mere thought of him, of his touch, sent a wave of heat through her. She envisioned the way he would lean in, his breath hot against her neck, his hands exploring her body with a gentle yet possessive urgency. It drove her deeper into her exploration, her fingers now dancing over the soft, sensitive skin beneath her navel. As she continued, her breaths turned into soft moans, the sounds escaping her lips unbidden and filled with need. “Ah… aah…” she gasped, the rhythm of her fingers mirroring the pulsing desire within her. She could almost imagine his hands on her, guiding her movements, urging her to surrender completely to the pleasure that was building.

With each flick of her fingers, the pressure inside her grew, coiling tighter and tighter. She imagined Aarav’s mouth trailing kisses down her body, his warm breath igniting her skin as he moved lower, teasing her with every soft touch. The thought was intoxicating, and she felt herself surrendering further into the fantasy, her body responding eagerly to her own ministrations. “Aah, Aarav…” she moaned again, the sound echoing in the stillness of her room. The name felt like a secret shared between them, an invitation to the depths of her desire. She could feel the heat pooling in her core, a delicious tension that threatened to spill over with every gasp. Her fingers continued their exploration, growing bolder and more demanding. She could almost feel Aarav’s hands on her, guiding her, teasing her just the way she liked. The fantasy enveloped her, drawing her deeper into a world where only they existed. She lost herself in the sensations, in the way her body responded to her touch, craving more, wanting to feel every inch of pleasure that she could summon. As her fingers worked their magic, she felt the tide of pleasure rising, her body trembling on the edge of something beautiful. “Aah… oh, Aarav…” she gasped, the name a mantra that fueled her desire. The heat within her spiraled, coiling tighter as she lost herself in the rhythm of her own pleasure, her breaths coming in quick, shallow bursts.With each movement, she felt herself teetering on the brink, the world outside fading away as she surrendered completely to the waves of ecstasy that threatened to consume her. She imagined Aarav beside her, his hands cradling her face, his lips brushing against her forehead as he whispered sweet nothings that made her heart race.“Please…” she moaned, the word escaping her lips like a plea to the universe. She needed that connection, that touch, but for now, she would have to satisfy this longing on her own. Her fingers moved faster, the pressure building to an unbearable peak, each stroke sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her.“Ah… ah… Aarav!” she cried out, her voice echoing through the room as the wave crashed over her. The world exploded in a kaleidoscope of sensations, her body arching as she surrendered to the climax that swept through her, washing away the tension and leaving only bliss in its wake. As she came down from the high, she lay in the aftermath, her breaths coming in slow, deep gasps. The name that had ignited her desires lingered in the air, a reminder of what she craved—a connection that went beyond the physical. For that night, she had found a piece of what she longed for, and as she drifted off to sleep, she knew that this was just the beginning of her journey into desire.

The world exploded in a kaleidoscope of sensations, her body arching as she surrendered to the climax that swept through her, washing away the tension and leaving only bliss in its wake. As she came down from the high, she lay in the aftermath, her breaths coming in slow, deep gasps. The name that had ignited her desires lingered in the air, a reminder of what she craved—a connection that went beyond the physical. For that night, she had found a piece of what she longed for, and as she drifted off to sleep, she knew that this was just the beginning of her journey into desire.

But because for the first time... she wanted someone.
And this wasn't a college girl's crush.
This was hunger.

For a man who didn't chase.
But made her want to be caught.

"I don't play games, Meera."
That line repeated in her mind as her moans muffled under the sheets.
And that night, she didn't sleep — she burned.

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