1. The Silent Driver Who Never Spoke… Until He Owned Her
Saasha’s husband hired a new driver. Tall. Quiet. Always watching in the rear-view mirror. He never rushed. He simply… waited for her to beg.
Chapter 1 – Eyes in the Mirror
His name was Karan. Twenty-seven. Six-three. Shoulders that filled the driver’s seat like a throne. The first morning he opened the back door of the Mercedes for Saasha, he didn’t speak. Just looked. Dark eyes locked on hers in the rear-view mirror the entire forty-minute drive to her office. Not a word. Not a smile. Just that stare — patient, hungry, certain. When she stepped out, her legs were unsteady for reasons she refused to name. Day two: same stare. Day five: she started wearing shorter kurtis. Day ten: she caught herself choosing lipstick based on whether he’d notice. He noticed everything. One evening, traffic crawled. He killed the engine. Turned in his seat. First time he ever spoke. Voice like gravel soaked in honey: “You’re beautiful when you pretend you don’t want this.” Then he turned back to driving as if nothing had happened. Saasha’s panties were ruined for the rest of the day…
Chapter 2 – The First Word Became a Command
Three weeks in, he started speaking. Only one sentence per day. Monday: “Take the dupatta off.” Tuesday: “Wear red tomorrow.” Wednesday: “Don’t wear anything underneath.” She obeyed every single time, heart hammering, telling herself it was harmless. One afternoon the car AC “broke.” Windows fogged. He pulled into an empty underground parking. Turned. Looked. “Show me.” Hands shaking, she lifted her kameez. No bra. No panties. His eyes darkened. He didn’t touch her. Just looked until she was squirming. Then he started the car and drove her home like a perfect gentleman. She came twice that night just remembering his silence…
Chapter 3 – Rain & Broken AC
Heavy monsoon. Husband out of town. Karan drove her to a client dinner, waited four hours in the rain. When she returned soaked, he opened the door, wrapped his jacket around her, fingers brushing nipples through wet fabric. On the way home the car really did break down — or so he made it look that way. He carried her through pouring rain to an empty company farmhouse. Inside: one sofa, one lamp, thunder outside. He peeled her wet saree off inch by inch, never breaking eye contact. Knelt. Spread her thighs. And finally spoke more than one sentence: “I’ve waited long enough.” Then devoured her until she screamed his name into the storm…
Chapter 4 – The Empty Farmhouse Became Their Temple
After that night the farmhouse key lived on his keychain. Every time her husband traveled, Karan drove her there. No words at first — just slow stripping, slow kissing, slow fucking against every surface until she was sobbing with need. He taught her positions she didn’t know existed. Made her ride him in the driver’s seat of the parked car. Fucked her on the bonnet under the stars. Always patient. Always in control. Always making her beg before he gave her what she craved…
Chapter 5 – Every Day After
Eventually her husband noticed the new glow on her skin, the bite marks under her blouse. He fired Karan. Karan showed up at 2 a.m. with the farmhouse key and one sentence: “Pack a bag. You’re coming home with me.” She did. She never went back.