Train was moving. In the moonless night. She felt something suddenly. It was dark inside the train so it was not visible. A hand touched her... It wasn’t her kid’s. Bigger. An adult’s. She pushed it back in shock with a light scream…
…His hands had reached deeper. It was damn dark. Nobody could see anything. But here was she, lying with her son while a man was massaging her passionately. She again tried a failed attempt to stop him. He didn’t move. His hands had done with throat and neck. His oily hand had now slid inside her... She again tried to explain him. Took his face in her hands and pleaded. To stop. He knew it was half-hearted. Kept moving his hand inside. Compassion had turned into passion. Sympathy had turned into ardour. Caring had turned into craving. The lines cleaving gentle friendly touch and passionate rub were blurred…
…She looked back at her little son while slowly getting into man’s blanket. He was sleeping peacefully… The bondages of modesty were shattered… It was the first sensual kiss for her in years. She pulled his head near her heart. It was the sign of surrender. Forgetting all ties, relations and even her son sleeping next to her on the other berth. It was the night of liberation! The night of celebration! The night of miracle…
The man was master of seduction. A trained lover. He did that 18 times. With different women. Hotties called him man of dreams. But he was a man on mission. Will love defeat mission? Read this romantic thriller to find out!
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