Touch Me without Asking.

--

It was 2:37 a.m.

Inaya sat curled up in the far corner of the plush guest suite couch, knees drawn to her chest, her thoughts louder than the silence around her.

The city lights outside blinked like memories she never had.

No one to call. No friend to message. No home that missed her.

She had no family.

No one waiting back in her small rented PG.

Not even a birthday message from someone who cared.

She was alone.

She had always been alone.

But why—why did Raunak Vikrant Malhotra, a man like that, want her?

Was it a game?

A new toy?

> He touched her like she was fire, but held her like he might burn first.

---

Meanwhile…

Raunak stood in his study, glass of whiskey untouched in his hand. He stared at an old photo—dusty, cracked—of a man who once ruled everything.

His father.

A cruel man. Cold. Controlling.

Just like him.

There was no mother. No siblings. No Sunday dinners. Just boardrooms, blood, and betrayal.

Raunak had everything.

Yet no one.

Until her.

Until that soft, wide-eyed girl who walked into his building like she wasn’t stepping into the devil’s den.

He wanted her. Badly.

Not for a night.

Not for a touch.

He wanted her to belong to him.

Completely.

---

☕ The Next Morning – 10:21 AM

Inaya entered his office, files in hand.

She wore a pale pink blouse. She looked delicate. Soft. Everything he wasn’t.

She didn’t meet his eyes today.

He noticed.

“Inaya,” he said, voice darker than usual.

“Yes, sir?”

He walked up to her. Close. Too close.

He took the file from her hands—his fingers brushing over her wrists.

Her breath hitched.

Then, with no warning—

He gripped her waist, turned her, and pinned her gently to the side of the table.

“Don’t avoid my eyes,” he said softly.

She looked up. Big mistake.

His gaze was molten. Heavy with heat.

“You looked like you cried last night.”

She went still.

He leaned in. One hand resting beside her head, the other… trailing slowly down her exposed forearm.

“Did someone hurt you?”

She shook her head, unable to speak.

He tilted his head, brushing his lips just inches from her jaw.

Not kissing. Just hovering. Tempting. Torturing.

“Don’t lie to me.”

Her fingers clenched the edge of the table.

He noticed.

And that’s when he did it.

He ran his hand up the side of her thigh—slow, possessive—until his palm rested just at her hip.

Then, he whispered:

“If it’s pain you’re used to, Inaya… I’ll replace it. With pleasure.”

She gasped. Her eyes widened. Her legs trembled.

He stepped back.

Smirking.

Leaving her burning.

---

🖤 That Night – Rooftop Balcony

She found herself looking out over the city from the top floor. Alone. Or so she thought.

“I don’t sleep much either,” came his voice.

She turned. Raunak stood behind her in a black vest and loose joggers—his muscles on display, veins running down his arms like temptation itself.

“Do you always wander the halls at midnight?” he asked, stepping closer.

“I was just… thinking.”

“About?”

She hesitated. “Why you chose me.”

He walked until he stood directly behind her, his chest brushing her back.

“Because you shine,” he whispered. “And I’ve lived in darkness too long.”

And then—

His hand slowly wrapped around her wrist from behind.

His lips touched her shoulder.

Soft. Just once. But it was enough to make her knees weaken.

“I want to kiss you,” he murmured. “But I won’t ask next time.”