Page 42 of The Secret She Kept in Bollywood

Pulling out of her, he sent his wet fingers up her bare flesh in an unholy trail, until his finger reached her mouth. Anya opened her mouth and licked it, tasting herself.

“Will you give me whatever I ask, Angel?” he asked in a ragged, hoarse tone that said this was about more than just sex.

Anya licked his finger and released it with a pop. And for the first time since they’d met, she lied. “I will, Simon.”

Dark satisfaction flared in his eyes. Anya heard the rasp of the condom wrapper and then he was rubbing the swollen head of his erection at her center. Flickers of flame went up and down her spine, flooding back down into her lower belly and tightening into a feral knot.

“Ready?”

Anya looked down into his eyes and nodded.

One hand on her hip, he slowly pushed himself inside her. “Don’t close your eyes, Angel. Watch this. Watch how you swallow me whole. God, Anya...” His groan as he settled himself all the way in made her shiver.

Anya jerked at how achy and invasive it felt like this. How full he made her feel.

“You okay?”

“You feel so deep like this, Simon. As if you’re everywhere.” Her back arched of its own accord and she braced her hands on his hips.

“You feel like heaven, Angel.” Keeping his thumb on her bud, Simon urged her to find her own rhythm. Heartbeat thundering, skin flushed, Anya used her knees to push up and thrust down in time to meet the jut of his hips. On and on she rode him, gently at first, and then finding the perfect countermotion to his thrusts. And all the while, he told her how good she felt, all the while, he kept that thumb where it was needed, driving her wild.

Soon, Anya was toppling into her climax, his name on her lips. Pleasure fractured in her lower belly in deep, concentric circles, so acute that tears lashed down her cheeks.

Hands on her waist, Simon pushed up. Then she was turned onto her back while he balanced himself on his elbows and knees, his erection still hard inside her. Even in the languorous haze of her orgasm, Anya noted the flare of his nostrils, the corded strength of his shoulders, the damp sheen on his skin and the...raw ache in his eyes.

“Simon?” she whispered, fear already fluttering through her.

Gathering her hips upward, holding her gaze in guarded silence, he started moving inside her again. His thrusts were hard and short and then he climaxed with a soft grunt. He was instantly off her, even though she loved being crushed into the mattress by his powerful body.

Nuzzling into her neck, he peppered a trail of kisses up her chin and cheek. “You’re very quiet.”

Anya closed her eyes, afraid he would see everything even now. That maybe it was already too late. Wondering if there was going to be any part of her left that he didn’t claim, that he didn’t take. “I’m just tired.”

And when he wrapped his arm around her and kissed her and held her as if he would cocoon her with his body, after gently cleaning her up, she shed the silent tears that had been building for a while.

This trip he was taking with Meera... He wasn’t breaking up with her.

But it had made her own heart crystal clear to her. And this person she’d become—this woman who could see her daughter and love her but not acknowledge her, this woman who so boldly went after the man she wanted—she couldn’t hide from the truth anymore.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

THANKFULLY, SIMONWASout when Anya bid an emotional Meera goodbye with a quick hug and a kiss. Of course Meera had asked her why she wasn’t coming along. Blinking back tears—God, she was leaking tears these days—Anya had said there was no way she could get away from work. Not for two whole weeks.

With fervent promises to chat every day, the teenager had let her leave.

Now, Anya was hiding in the empty studio near the set.

Lunch had come and gone but she’d barely touched the sandwich or the soup. Her appetite had gone from bad to nonexistent this morning and she knew she’d pay with one hell of a headache later but right then, nothing could hold her attention.

Nothing but the fact that time was passing and Simon and Meera would leave, and for the first time in several weeks, she was going to be utterly alone again.

In her head. In her heart. In every way that mattered.

Her astrology app kept spewing some version of “Trust your instincts” and it made her furious.

She just wanted the hours to pass fast. Until she knew, her body knew, that he had left and she could give up on this...strange feverish anticipation coursing through her. When she could go back to her room and hide for the rest of the day. Pushing the sketches she’d been working on aside, she pressed her fingers to her temples when she heard the door open behind her.

Her breath stuttered. She didn’t have to turn to know that it was Simon.

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