The sun had dipped beneath the Mumbai skyline as Rai stepped out of his Lamborghini in front of the grand entrance to the JW Marriott's Imperial Ballroom, the venue for tonight's exclusive Bollywood party.
Paparazzi lights flashed as vintage Rolls Royces and sleek imported sedans lined the red carpet.
The year was 2003—an age of raw, untouched glamour, where every leading lady still carried an aura of mystique, not yet buried under the blade of plastic perfection. The air itself shimmered with perfume, sweat, and status.
Rai adjusted the collar of his midnight-black designer suit. Silk. Sharp. Custom-fitted over his sculpted frame.
His crimson pocket square matched the subtle glint in his blood-red eyes, the only trait that hinted at something unnatural beneath his handsome facade.
As he walked past the photographers, the flashes briefly bathed him in strobe light.
Click.
Click.
Flash.
But no one dared stop him.
The Singhaniya Group name was too powerful, and his presence too dangerous. Bouncers didn't even ask for ID—they bowed and held the door open like servants receiving a king.
Inside, the ballroom glowed with chandeliers, golden decor, and live classical music drifting in from a velvet-curtained stage.
Waiters glided silently with silver trays, serving champagne and fine scotch. Bollywood's elite mingled beneath the glittering lights—producers, directors, veteran actors—and most importantly, actresses.
Rai's eyes scanned the room, calm but predatory.
Then he saw her.
Tanushree Dutta.
Twenty-two. Rising star. Crowned Miss India 2000, now on the verge of her first blockbuster release.
Dressed in a maroon silk saree with a low-cut gold blouse, her dusky skin glowing under the ballroom lights.
Her long black hair was pinned to the side, cascading like a waterfall over one bare shoulder. Her waist was narrow, her hips full, her smile radiant—and most importantly, it was real.
Not sculpted by surgery, but carved by divine genes and self-confidence.
She laughed politely at a producer's joke, sipping from a wine glass, clearly bored.
Rai walked toward her with the confidence of a man who had never heard "no."
The music shifted. A soft tabla rhythm began, echoed by sitar and slow jazz.
He approached her from the side, standing close enough to command attention, but not close enough to be rude.
"Wine's not the sweetest thing in this room tonight," he murmured, voice like velvet, smooth and slow.
Tanushree turned, slightly startled. Her eyes widened ever so slightly at the sight of him.
Tall. Strong. Impeccably dressed. Handsome beyond reason.
And those eyes…
"You are?" she asked, smiling cautiously.
"Rai Singhania," he said, reaching out and gently taking her fingers in his. He bent down and pressed a light kiss to the back of her hand. "Owner of this city's tallest tower. And soon, the man you'll think about every night."
She laughed—a soft, musical sound. "Confident."
"Always."
She tilted her head. "You don't look like the business types I usually meet."
"Because I don't waste time hiding what I want."
His eyes lingered, boldly sliding from her full lips to the curve of her breasts, then down to her exposed waist. He didn't leer. He studied—like a sculptor admiring a masterpiece he planned to claim.
Tanushree's breath hitched slightly.
She wasn't used to being handled like this.
Not disrespected—but not worshipped either. She was being assessed. Desired. Hunted.
"Care to dance?" he asked, extending his hand.
"I don't usually dance at industry parties…"
"I'm not 'industry'."
His voice was low, commanding, almost hypnotic. She hesitated for one heartbeat—then placed her hand in his.
He pulled her into the center of the ballroom, where couples slowly turned beneath the golden lights. One hand slid to her bare waist. The other held her fingers.
They moved in rhythm. She was graceful, fluid, a trained pageant dancer. But Rai's lead was firm—almost possessive.
Their bodies brushed.
His lips neared her ear. "You feel amazing in my hands."
She blushed, lips parting.
"You have a line for everything, don't you?" she whispered.
"No lines. Just truths. You're gorgeous. Untouched. Real. That makes you a rarity."
Her heart fluttered at his praise. His words were so confident, yet carried none of the sleazy undertones she had grown used to in the film world.
"Come with me," he said after a while, spinning her once, then gently pulling her off the dance floor toward the grand staircase that led to the upper terrace.
"I don't even know you," she said, a teasing smile playing on her lips.
"But you want to," Rai replied, tightening his grip on her waist.
She bit her lip.
Her feet followed.
The terrace doors closed behind them.
The night air was warm, scented with roses and city smoke. Fairy lights twinkled above. From up here, the party seemed distant.
"You brought me up here just to talk?" she asked, turning to face him.
"No," he said simply.
Then he took her face in his hands and kissed her.
Slow. Confident. Deep.
She gasped against his mouth as he stepped forward, pressing her against the marble railing. Her wine glass fell from her hand and shattered behind her with a soft tink.
His lips explored hers, tongue sliding in to claim every inch.
One hand cupped her face, the other slid down her back to rest on the exposed dip of her spine.
She melted.
Her arms wrapped around his neck.
When he broke the kiss, she was panting—flushed and dazed.
"You taste like stardom," he whispered. "And I'm going to own every inch of you before you ever walk a red carpet again."
Tanushree shivered.
And didn't say no.
The soft wind carried the scent of roses and champagne across the rooftop terrace, brushing against Tanushree's skin as she stood flushed and breathless—pinned between the cool marble balustrade and Rai's warm, commanding body.
Her lips still tingled from his kiss.
Rai's hands rested on her waist, his thumbs tracing slow circles on her bare skin. His eyes locked with hers—piercing, predatory, and unblinking.
"You have no idea," he murmured, his breath hot against her cheek, "how badly I've wanted to ruin a perfect goddess like you."
Tanushree let out a soft, shaky breath. "Rai…"
And she didn't pull away.
He kissed her again—this time on the neck, slow and possessive.
Mwah…
mwah…
Open-mouthed kisses trailed from her earlobe to the base of her throat.
Then—
Snap.
The string of her blouse came undone in one swift tug.
Her breath caught in her throat. "A-Ah…"
"I shouldn't…" she whispered, nerves clashing with heat.
"But you will," Rai growled, voice thick with lust, activating his incubus powers.
He turned her around, pressing her back to his chest, then gently bent her forward against the marble railing, the skyline of Mumbai glittering below them like a thousand onlookers.
He found the edge of her saree and began to unwind it.
Shhhhkkk…
The soft silk unraveled around her body like water slipping through fingers, pooling at her ankles.
Now she stood exposed—her golden petticoat clinging to her thighs, her blouse barely hanging from her shoulders.
"So beautiful…" he murmured, fingers trailing along her navel before dipping lower.
Squish.
His palm pressed between her thighs, cupping the heat soaking through the thin cotton.
"Ahh… Rai…" she gasped, hips twitching.
He smirked.
Kneeling behind her, he tugged the fabric aside—revealing the glistening folds of her pussy, already drenched.
Then his tongue slid across her slit.
Sllrp.
Slrp.
Lick.
"Ahhhn… R-Rai…" she moaned, clutching the railing, her body trembling.
He devoured her slowly, sensually, his tongue flicking and swirling as he tasted her.
"Hmm… so sweet," he growled between licks.
Slrp…
slrp…
She was panting, legs shaking. "I—I can't…"
"You're not allowed to cum yet."
Then he rose and turned her around—her cheeks flushed, lips parted, eyes dazed.
He kissed her deeply again—tongue invading, owning, tasting his prize.
Then he unbuckled his belt.
Clink.
Zzzzzip.
His cock sprang free—thick, veined, glistening with pre-cum.
Tanushree gasped. "It's… it's huge…"
"You'll take every inch."
He spun her again, lifted one of her legs onto the railing, and lined himself up.
His cockhead rubbed along her soaked entrance.
Squelch…
Schlk…
And then—he pushed in.
"AHHN—!"
Her cry filled the night air as her pussy stretched to welcome him.
"Fuck… you're tight."
"Ahh… ahh… Rai… it's too—deep!"
He began slowly.
Schlk…
schlk…
Each thrust sank a little deeper, grinding her sweet spot with devilish precision.
"Your cunt's gripping me like it was made for this," he growled.
"Ahhnn… haah… I—I can't hold it… I'm gonna—!"
"No. Not yet."
He pulled out abruptly.
She whimpered in frustration, "P-Please…"
Then he flipped her—her leg still on the railing—and drove back into her with brutal force.
Pah! Pah! Pah!
"AHHHH!" she screamed, the sudden pace knocking the wind from her lungs.
His balls slapped against her thighs with every thrust.
Smack. Smack. Smack.
Her breasts bounced free, blouse forgotten.
Her moans grew louder.
"Haaahh! Haaann! Ahhh! R-Rai—harder! Please—"
He gripped her hips tighter, fucking her with feral dominance now. His cock pistoned in and out, stretching her, stuffing her, owning her.
"You're nothing but my fucktoy tonight," he snarled.
"Yes! Yes! Use me… break me—just don't stop!"
Her walls clenched tight, her climax crashing into her like a tidal wave.
"CUMMINGGG—AAHHH—!"
Pah! Pah! Pah!
Squish.
Rai kept pounding her through it, ignoring her trembling, her cries, her shuddering moans.
Her juices splashed against his thighs, dripping down her legs.
Then, with a deep, guttural groan, he thrust one last time.
Throb.
Pulse.
Burst.
"FUCK—take it all!"
Squelch… pump… pump…
His hot seed flooded her womb, thick ropes of cum spilling deep inside her.
She collapsed forward, gasping, her body trembling violently against the cold marble.
Rai leaned over, pressing his chest to her back, still buried inside.
"You're mine now," he whispered.
"Yours…" she sobbed, blissful tears streaking her cheeks.
He pulled out slowly, watching his cum dribble from her twitching hole.
Plap. Plap.
Drip.
Then he turned her, scooped her into his arms, and kissed her forehead gently.
"We're not done yet."
But Rai wasn't finished.
Not even close.
Tanushree's body trembled against the cold marble railing—her moans now reduced to weak, broken gasps—her sweat-soaked skin glowing under the terrace lights.
Her pussy was raw, stuffed, and overflowing, but Rai's cock was still hard, slick, and insatiable.
Schlk.
Pah. Pah. Pah.
He resumed pounding her, faster than before.
"AHHH! R-Rai—ahhhhnn—too much—!"
Her cries were music. Her surrender, divine.
And then—
He felt it.
A shift in the air.
His enhanced senses—evolved far beyond human—caught the faint sound of heels clicking softly across the marble.
A heartbeat. The change in breathing. A familiar perfume—jasmine and oud.
He didn't need to turn to know who it was.
He already remembered the sound of her breathing… the way her thighs clenched when she watched him undress.
She was a goddess. And once, even she had knelt.
Sushmita Sen.
Miss Universe 1994.
The towering beauty who had redefined grace and sensuality in Indian cinema.
A woman of height, power, and liquid confidence. By 2003, she was already a star—her deep voice, regal posture, and magnetic eyes making her a symbol of elite Bollywood sensuality.
And now, she stood just meters away—frozen in the shadows at the far end of the terrace, hidden by vines and gold-draped lights, watching.
She was dressed in a shimmering black saree, the blouse sleeveless and deep-cut, her tall frame outlined perfectly by the moonlight.
Her lips were parted. Her eyes locked on Tanushree's trembling body, splayed and whimpering as Rai ravaged her like a beast claiming his mate.
Sushmita didn't speak.
Didn't move.
But he could smell it.
She was wet.
Rai smirked.
And he didn't slow down.
In fact—he fucked Tanushree harder.
PAP. PAP. PAP.
"AHHHHHH—RAI! YES! HARDER—!"
Her moans bounced off the glass walls, mixing with the slick, wet sounds of her cunt being wrecked beyond recognition.
Squelch.
Slrp.
Smack.
Her legs trembled violently, her breasts bouncing wildly as Rai held her hips and slammed into her with unstoppable force.
Every inch of his cock bullied her tight walls, stuffing her with dominance as his cum from the first load leaked down her thighs in messy streaks.
"You're not just being fucked…" he growled in her ear, "You're being watched… by someone who knows exactly how this feels."
Tanushree let out a raw, helpless moan.
"AHHH—AHHHHH—OH FUCK—!"
Rai looked up again.
Sushmita hadn't moved. But her fingers, once delicately resting by her side, were now curling around the edge of her pallu, gripping it tightly.
She remembered, clearly, what it was like.
When Rai had first taken her—in the penthouse suite after an awards gala. How she had ended up on her knees, her famous voice reduced to sobbing moans as he pulled her hair and slammed into her ass while making her praise him between chokes of seed.
And now, watching another woman—Tanushree, who would someday become a symbol of raw sexuality in Aashiq Banaya Aapne—being ruined the same way… it made her legs press together.
Her chest rose and fell. Her lips trembled.
She wanted to be next.
But Rai wasn't done showing off.
He grabbed Tanushree's hair, pulled her up from the railing, then pushed her to her knees.
Her mouth opened instinctively.
He slid his cock—soaked in her own cum—into her mouth.
Slrk.
Gag.
Gulp.
Slrp.
She sucked him greedily, her throat stretching as he face-fucked her like a tool for relief.
His eyes never left Sushmita's.
She couldn't look away.
He smirked and mouthed a silent order:
"Kneel next."
Sushmita shuddered.
When he finally groaned again, his cock throbbed in Tanushree's throat as he unloaded a second thick load.
Throb.
Pulse.
Spill.
Glk. Glk. Glk.
She drank it all, lips stretched wide, eyes closed in dazed worship.
When he pulled out, her face was glazed with saliva and cum, her tongue lolling out.
"Thank you for filling me… Master Rai…" she whispered brokenly.
He leaned close to her ear.
"You were perfect."
Then he turned toward the darkness and raised a single finger, beckoning.
Sushmita Sen stepped forward.
Her heart pounded. Her nipples pressed visibly against her blouse. Her thighs were already wet. She had held herself back for long enough.
And tonight, she was ready to kneel again.
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