Prologue

Sahiti 's POV)

The rain didn't just fall outside Zane Weston's penthouse — it pounded. Heavy. Relentless.
Almost like the rhythm inside.

The city was a blur of gold lights and wet streets beneath the glass walls, but I barely saw it. My focus was somewhere else. Everywhere else.
On the sharp pull at my waist.
The heat at my back.
The way every move seemed to sink deeper into my bones.

"Breathe," Zane murmured behind me, his voice low and rough. It wasn't a request.

I tried. God, I tried. But every time I dragged in a breath, he stole it again. My fingers curled over the edge of the glass table, the cool surface anchoring me against the chaos in my own body.

"I can't—" I started, but my voice broke on a sound I didn't recognize.

"You can," he countered, his hands tightening, guiding me with a control that was both infuriating and addictive.

I was supposed to be at home.
I was supposed to be finishing my math practical notes, my neatly ruled pages filled with diagrams and equations. I had even carried my file here, thinking I could work while the rain eased.

My first sex with zane was something that i always wanted it to be, my heart pumping racing faster, my hips hitting his croutch fastly as he was thrusting me continuously, fuck, i have never thought that my first sex would be with someone i never even know how will i be able to be with him forever, my fiance's bestfriend, my muse and my forever.

he started to move his left hand towards my clit rubbing it rhythmically followed with the thrusts as i moaned even more louder in pain and pleasure my pussy rubbing with the satin sheets, my hips up in the air and there i turned back looking at him, his disheveled hair, the way eh arched his back, he rolled his eyes the way he thrusted me from behind, and his abs, ohh my god, he looked abseloutely like a greek hot guy fucking me from behind, as both of us moaned even louder as 

Now, it lay abandoned on the table in front of me, a pen rolling lazily across the page where my handwriting had stopped mid-sentence.

And then my phone rang.

The sound sliced through the haze like an ice bath.
The name on the screen was even colder.

Dev Iyer.

My fiancé.

Zane didn't stop. Not right away. His rhythm just... slowed, like he was considering something. Then I felt him lean in, his mouth at my ear.

"Answer it."

I twisted to look at him, my hair sticking to my flushed skin. "Are you—"

He reached past me, grabbing the phone before I could protest, and hit accept. My stomach plummeted.

"Hey, man," Zane said, his voice so steady, so casual, I almost believed him. Almost.

"Zane," Dev replied warmly from the other end. "Is Sahiti with you? She said she had work to finish and wasn't home yet."

Zane's eyes locked on mine, unblinking. He didn't look away as he answered.
"Yeah," he lied softly. "She's here. She's safe."

Safe.

The word was a knife in my chest. My pulse thudded in my ears, my breathing shaky. The movement behind me didn't stop, not entirely. It was slower now, deliberate, like Zane was making sure I felt every second of the lie.

Dev chuckled faintly. "Good. Tell her not to stress about her work. She overthinks these things."

My heart felt too big for my ribcage. I thought of the neat blue ink, the unfinished geometry diagram on my paper. How far I'd fallen from that girl who could focus on formulas instead of this heat, this ache, this man.

"Will do," Zane murmured.

He ended the call without waiting for me to speak. The silence that followed was deafening.

I wanted to say something — to stop, to leave, to salvage whatever line I had left to cross — but then his hand slid from my hip to my jaw, turning my head just enough for his lips to graze mine.

"Where were we?" he asked,  spanking my ass, like the last sixty seconds hadn't just shattered me.

And I hated that I remembered exactly where.

I hated even more that I didn't want to stop.