Chapter 1

Chains of Silk✨

Chapter 1 - The Glare of Gold and Whiskey.

The Oberoi rooftop bar glittered like a slice of Mumbai's elite heaven-champagne flutes, soft jazz, and a skyline painted in liquid gold. Ansh Malhotra, draped in a burgundy silk shirt that clung to his sculpted torso, was bored."Same suits, same rich boys," he muttered to himself, sipping a Negroni. "Koi ek bhi interesting mil jaaye, toh miracle hoga."

He was about to leave when he walked in.Aarav Sharma. Dark suit, minimalistic watch, serious eyes like storm clouds. Tall, brooding, quiet. Ansh had heard of him-billionaire tech prodigy, rarely seen outside boardrooms. Tonight, he stood alone by the bar, nursing a single malt and avoiding eye contact.Ansh's lips curled into a smirk.

"Miracle mil gaya," he whispered, and strutted over.

"Tum itne bore kyun lag rahe ho, Mr. Sharma?" Ansh purred, leaning against the bar.

Aarav looked at him-slow, deliberate, like he was reading a code only he understood.

"I don't do small talk," Aarav replied, voice deep and smooth.

"Good. Mujhe small boys pasand nahi," Ansh shot back with a wicked grin.That made Aarav chuckle, just slightly. Enough for Ansh to feel the spark catch.

They talked-if that's what you could call it. Banter, teasing, tension so thick you could wrap it in satin. The alcohol kept coming, and so did the touches. Fingers brushing over wrists. Thighs touching under the bar.

By midnight, Ansh was whispering, "Mere ghar chalo."Aarav hesitated. "You're drunk."

"So are you. Don't act saintly. Tum dekh rahe ho mujhe jaise you've already undressed me thrice."

A pause. Then Aarav exhaled. "Chalo."

Ansh's Apartment - Lower Parel

The moment the door closed behind them, Ansh pinned Aarav against it, kissing him like he had been starving.

"Tumhe laga main bottom hoon toh passive hoon?" he murmured, slipping Aarav's jacket off. "Baby, main control karta hoon."

Aarav growled softly, grabbing Ansh's waist, spinning him against the wall. "Control share kiya jaata hai. Surrender nahi."

Their mouths collided again, hot and wet, teeth clashing. Shirts tore. Belt buckles fumbled. Ansh pushed Aarav onto the couch, straddling him, grinding shamelessly.

"Mujhe dekho, Aarav," Ansh breathed."Aankhon mein aankhon daal ke chodo mujhe."

The night was a blur of silk sheets, bitten lips, moaned curses in two languages.

"Fuck-Ansh..."

"Haan... abhi... zyada gehra. That's it."

"Tum pagal kar rahe ho mujhe..."

"Toh ho jaao. Main worth hoon."

They didn't sleep that night-only paused to breathe, to taste, to push each other further. By morning, the sun spilled over tangled limbs and sweat-slicked skin.

Ansh stirred, eyes still heavy with pleasure. "Ye bas ek baar ka tha... ya repeat performance bhi milegi?"

Aarav gave a tired, amused grunt. "Tum pagal ho."

Ansh smirked. "Pagal nhi sexy hota hai."

They both knew it wasn't love.

Not yet.

Just need, fire, and the beginning of something dangerously addictive.

Enjoy reading,My Rasgullas 🍒