RIVALS IN HEAT

The lecture hall buzzed with energy as students filed in, their chatter bouncing off the high walls. Tara Kapoor slipped into her usual seat at the front, her perfectly organized notes spread across the desk. She adjusted her glasses and glanced at the clock—ten minutes until the class began.

Her focus was sharp, determined. This semester was crucial for her MBA, and there was no room for mistakes. Which was why she nearly groaned out loud when the bane of her existence strolled in.

Raghav Malhotra.

He was everything Tara despised: smug, overconfident, and insufferably charming. And to her immense frustration, he was brilliant—a fact he never let her forget.

“Good morning, Kapoor,” Raghav said as he slid into the seat beside her, a grin playing on his lips.

“I didn’t realize this was your seat,” she shot back, barely sparing him a glance.

“It’s not,” he admitted with a shrug. “But I figured, why not start my day by annoying you?”

Tara rolled her eyes, but her pulse quickened as his cologne—a tantalizing mix of sandalwood and spice—wafted toward her. She hated how her body reacted to him, a constant betrayal she couldn’t seem to control.

“You don’t have to try so hard,” she replied. “Your mere existence is annoying enough.”

Raghav laughed, low and throaty, leaning back in his chair with the ease of someone who knew he was getting under her skin.

When the professor entered, calling the room to attention, the chatter quieted. It was presentation day, an opportunity for students to showcase their ideas in front of their peers and faculty. When Tara and Raghav were called to present as a team, the room seemed to hold its breath. Everyone knew the two were fierce competitors, their rivalry as entertaining as it was intense.

Tara took the lead, outlining their strategy with sharp precision. Her voice was steady, commanding, as she moved through the slides. She could feel Raghav standing beside her, his presence a constant distraction, but she refused to let him throw her off.

“And that concludes our strategy,” she finished, shooting a triumphant glance at the audience.

Before she could bask in the professor’s approving nod, Raghav stepped forward, his hands in his pockets and that infuriating smirk on his face. “Actually, I think there’s a flaw in your logic,” he said smoothly, turning to address the room.

Tara’s jaw tightened as he launched into a counterpoint. His argument was sharp, his delivery flawless, and the audience ate it up. By the time he was done, her carefully crafted plan seemed amateur in comparison.

The professor clapped. “An excellent discussion. Both of you brought valuable points to the table.”

Tara forced a smile, her nails digging into her palm. She hated him.

Later, long after the class had ended and the lecture hall emptied, Tara stayed behind to fine-tune their project. The projector hummed softly as she worked, the glow of the screen casting shadows across her face. She was so focused she didn’t hear the door open until it was too late.

“Still here?” Raghav’s voice broke the silence, low and teasing.

“I don’t have time for your games,” she snapped without looking up.

“Games? I thought I was helping earlier,” he said, his footsteps echoing as he walked toward her. “You should thank me for pointing out those flaws.”

Tara whirled to face him, her temper flaring. “You humiliated me in front of the entire class.”

Raghav stopped a few feet away, his smirk fading. His gaze locked onto hers, the tension between them thickening.

“You think I don’t see it?” he said, his voice softer now, but no less intense. “The way you push yourself so hard, trying to be perfect at everything?”

“I don’t need your psychoanalysis,” she said, her voice wavering.

He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. “You don’t need it,” he agreed, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “But maybe you need this.”

Before she could respond, his lips crashed onto hers.

Tara froze, her mind racing. She should push him away, yell at him, do anything but kiss him back. But as his hands slid to her waist, pulling her closer, the dam holding back her desires broke.

She kissed him back with equal fervor, her fingers tangling in his hair as their bodies pressed together. Raghav groaned into her mouth, his hands roaming her curves as if he’d been waiting for this moment forever.

“You’re infuriating,” she muttered against his lips, her words melting into a gasp as his mouth trailed to her neck.

“And you’re irresistible,” he growled, his teeth grazing her skin.

Tara’s back hit the desk, the edge digging into her thighs as Raghav hoisted her up. Papers scattered to the floor, but neither of them cared. His hands were everywhere—her waist, her thighs, the buttons of her blouse.

Her breath hitched as he kissed his way down her chest, his lips hot against her skin. Every touch sent shivers through her, each brush of his tongue lighting her nerves on fire.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured, his voice rough and heavy with need.

“Don’t you dare,” Tara replied, her nails digging into his shoulders as she pulled him closer.

His chuckle was dark, almost a growl, as he slid her skirt higher, his fingers grazing her bare thighs. Tara’s breath came in shallow gasps, her body arching into his touch.

“God, you drive me insane,” he muttered, his lips finding hers again as his hand slid between her legs.

“Then do something about it,” she shot back, her voice trembling with equal parts defiance and desire.

And he did.

Raghav’s fingers slid between her thighs, finding her slick and ready. He groaned low in his throat, the sound vibrating against her lips as he teased her with deliberate, calculated strokes. Tara gasped, her head falling back as he rubbed slow, torturous circles over her sensitive clit. Her legs parted instinctively, inviting him closer, and he didn’t hesitate.

“You’re so wet for me,” he murmured against her neck, his lips brushing over her skin. “I’ve barely touched you, Tara. Is this what you’ve been wanting all along?”

“Shut up,” she managed, though her voice lacked any conviction. Her body betrayed her, hips arching toward him, craving more.

“Make me,” he growled, his teeth grazing her earlobe.

Without warning, he pushed a finger inside her, and her gasp turned into a moan, her nails digging into his shoulders. He moved slowly at first, his touch exploring, learning every inch of her. Then he added a second finger, curling them just right to make her body tremble.

“Raghav…” she whimpered, her voice breaking as the pleasure built inside her, hot and insistent.

He pulled back just enough to watch her face, his dark eyes gleaming with satisfaction as she writhed beneath him. “You like that, don’t you?” he asked, his voice rough.

“Shut up,” she repeated, though her body was clenching around his fingers, her breathing ragged.

His thumb pressed against her clit, and he began to move faster, his fingers driving into her with a rhythm that made her head spin. Her thighs trembled, her moans growing louder as he brought her closer to the edge.

“I want to hear you say it,” he demanded, his lips brushing against hers. “Say you need me.”

“No,” she whispered, defiance flickering in her eyes even as her body betrayed her, arching against him.

Raghav smirked, his pace quickening. “Stubborn,” he murmured, his voice dripping with amusement. “Let’s see how long you can hold out.”

He didn’t let up, his touch relentless as he pushed her closer and closer to the brink. Tara’s hands clawed at his back, her head falling back as the tension inside her snapped. Her release crashed over her, a cry spilling from her lips as her body shuddered violently around him.

Raghav didn’t stop, drawing out every wave of her orgasm until she was left trembling, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath.

When she opened her eyes, he was watching her, his expression dark and unreadable. His fingers slipped out of her, and he brought them to his lips, tasting her with a low groan.

“You’re addictive,” he said, his voice low and rough.

Tara barely had time to process his words before he was unbuttoning his shirt, the fabric sliding off his broad shoulders and falling to the floor. She couldn’t help but stare, her gaze trailing over his toned chest, the lines of his muscles, the sharp cut of his jaw.

“Your turn,” he said, his hands moving to her blouse. He made quick work of the buttons, pushing the fabric off her shoulders and letting it fall. His gaze darkened as it settled on the lacy bra that barely contained her.

“Perfect,” he muttered, his hands sliding up her sides, his thumbs brushing over her nipples through the thin fabric. Tara shivered, her breath catching as his lips found her neck again, his kisses trailing lower.

He tugged her bra down, his mouth closing over one peaked nipple. Tara moaned, her hands tangling in his hair as he sucked and teased, his teeth grazing her sensitive skin. His other hand slid up her thigh, pushing her skirt higher, and she felt him, hard and hot against her.

“Do you want me, Tara?” he asked, his voice a low growl.

She hesitated for only a moment before answering. “Yes,” she breathed, her voice trembling with need.

Raghav groaned, his hands moving to undo his belt. The sound of the buckle sent a thrill through her, anticipation pooling low in her belly. He freed himself, his cock hard and thick, and her cheeks flushed as she took him in.

“You’re staring,” he teased, his smirk returning.

Tara shot him a glare, her lips curving into a small, mischievous smile. “Shut up and fuck me,” she said.

Raghav laughed, low and dangerous, before positioning himself at her entrance. “As you wish,” he murmured, his voice dark with promise.

He pushed inside her slowly, the stretch and fullness stealing her breath. Tara gasped, her hands gripping his shoulders as he filled her completely. He paused for a moment, his forehead resting against hers, his breathing ragged.

“Fuck, you feel incredible,” he muttered, his hands gripping her hips.

Tara arched against him, her legs wrapping around his waist, urging him deeper. “Don’t stop,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Raghav didn’t need any more encouragement. He began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first, each one driving her closer to the edge. The desk creaked beneath them, the sound mingling with their moans and the slap of skin against skin.

Tara’s nails raked down his back, her cries growing louder as he picked up the pace, his movements harder and faster. His hands gripped her hips, pulling her closer, and she could feel the tension building again, hot and insistent.

“Raghav,” she moaned, her head falling back as the pleasure consumed her.

“Say my name,” he demanded, his voice rough and commanding.

“Raghav,” she gasped, her body tightening around him as her second climax hit her like a tidal wave. Her cries filled the room, her nails digging into his shoulders as she shattered around him.

With a guttural groan, Raghav followed her over the edge, his hips stuttering as he buried himself deep inside her, his release spilling into her.

They stayed like that for a moment, their bodies tangled together, their breathing ragged. Slowly, Raghav pulled back, his gaze meeting hers.

“Still hate me?” he asked, his tone teasing but softer now.

Tara smirked, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Maybe a little less,” she admitted, her voice breathless.

Raghav chuckled, leaning down to kiss her again, slower this time, as if he had all the time in the world.