Shivika book of os

The heavy mahogany door slammed shut, the sound echoing through the hallway like a gunshot. Shivaay stormed into the bedroom, his presence a whirlwind of suppressed rage and exhaustion. His tie was loosened and hanging precariously around his neck, his hair—usually meticulously styled—was a chaotic mess from where he had been clawing at it in frustration. His ears were flushed a deep, angry red, a physical manifestation of the humiliation he felt. Siddarth Rana had not just won the deal; he had dismantled Shivaay’s strategy, exploiting the gap left by his paternal leave to seize the market lead.

In the quiet sanctuary of the room, Anika had just finished settling baby Pari in the attached nursery. The architectural layout was a blessing; the nursery was a seamless extension of their suite, allowing her to hear every whimper of their daughter while maintaining a semblance of adult privacy.

At that moment, Anika was in a state of raw, maternal vulnerability. She had just peeled off her nursing bra, which was heavy and damp with leaked milk, the fabric clinging to her skin. She stood there half-naked, the soft glow of the lamp illuminating the curves of her body. Shivaay didn't even seem to notice her at first. In a fit of blind pique, he hurled his phone across the room. It hit the hardwood floor with a sickening crack, the screen shattering into a spiderweb of glass.

Anika didn't flinch. Instead, she watched him with a mixture of pity and desire. She let out a soft, teasing chuckle, her voice a velvet contrast to his aggression.

“First time I didn’t have you jump over me just by seeing my boobs,” she murmured, her eyes dancing.

The comment acted like a circuit breaker. Shivaay froze, his gaze finally snapping to her. The anger didn't vanish, but it shifted, grounding itself in the sight of her. He looked at her bare belly, still soft with the lingering remnants of pregnancy, a beautiful testament to the life they had created. His eyes travelled up to her breasts, full and heavy, the nipples darkened and sensitive from Pari’s constant nursing. She looked like a goddess of fertility and comfort, a stark contrast to the cold, corporate battlefield he had just left.

Before he could move toward her, Anika efficiently slid into a fresh bra and pulled a thin tank top over her head, though the fabric clung to her curves, leaving little to the imagination. She stepped into his space, her touch gentle as she began to peel the heavy wool coat from his shoulders.

“Tell me, what’s wrong?” she asked softly.

“Everything,” Shivaay spat, though the venom was gone, replaced by a ragged sigh. “Siddarth Rana took advantage of my leave. He played dirty, Anika. Now his company is the slot leader, and I’m playing catch-up.”

Anika reached up, her fingers tracing the deep creases of stress on his forehead. She knew the toll this was taking. He was fighting a war on two fronts: the cutthroat world of business and the gruelling, sleepless nights of new fatherhood. While she had the support of Pinky and Jhanvi for the baby, and Gauri and Saumya keeping the household running, Shivaay had tried to shoulder the burden of being the provider and the protector simultaneously. He was running on empty.

“Let me make you feel right then,” she whispered, her voice dropping an octave.

She guided him to the bed, pushing him gently until he lay flat on his back. The tension in his muscles was palpable, his body stiff as a board. Anika climbed over him, her knees flanking his hips. She began with slow, deliberate kisses along his jawline, her breath hot against his skin, while her hands moved to the button of his trousers.

She undid them with practised ease, sliding his pants and boxers down in one fluid motion. His cock lay flaccid between his thighs, a reflection of his mental exhaustion. Anika didn't mind. She leaned down, her long hair brushing against his stomach, and wrapped her lips around the base of his shaft. She licked upward in one long, wet stroke, her tongue swirling around the head before she took the tip into her mouth, sucking firmly.

Shivaay let out a low, guttural moan, his hips giving a small, involuntary twitch. To keep him focused on the sensation, Anika slid a finger into his mouth, giving him something to suck on, a silent command to surrender to her.

She began to dive deeper, her throat opening to accommodate him. She pushed herself down until his length disappeared entirely into the depths of her throat, the wet, tight heat of her oesophagus gripping him. Shivaay groaned, his hands finding her hair, but she took his hand and guided it behind her own head, an invitation. He understood. He began to thrust his hips upward, fucking her mouth with a rhythmic intensity, treating her throat like a tight, wet pussy. The suction was exquisite, the pressure building in his loins as the stress of the day began to melt into pure, physical pleasure.

As he neared a peak, Anika did something unexpected. While her mouth remained locked on his cock, she reached down with her free hand. She found the tight, puckered skin of his dark hole and pressed a lubricated finger firmly against it.

Shivaay’s back arched off the bed, stars exploding behind his eyelids. They had never explored anal play before, and the sudden intrusion of that sensation sent a jolt of electricity straight to his brain. It was a forbidden, overwhelming feeling that blurred the lines between pain and pleasure.

Anika pulled back, releasing his now throbbing, erect cock. She didn't stop. She moved south, her tongue flicking over his balls, tasting the salty skin, before she migrated further back. Shivaay gasped, his breath hitching as he felt the hot, wet tip of her tongue teasing the entrance of his asshole.

“Anika! What are you doing?” he gasped, his voice strained.

He wasn't prepared for this, but the sheer audacity of it—the way she was taking control of his pleasure—made him crave it. Anika didn't answer with words. She hardened her tongue, thrusting it inside his hole with a rhythmic, probing motion, while her hand simultaneously gripped his shaft, jerking him with a fast, tight grip.

He was a mess of contradictions—the hardness of his cock in her hand and the invasive, sliding heat of her tongue in his rear. He felt completely exposed, completely owned. As she ensured he was well-lubed with her saliva, she shifted her position. Her mouth returned to his penis, swirling around the purple, engorged head, while she slid a finger deep into his anus.

Shivaay was groaning uncontrollably now, his head tossing from side to side. He tried to meet her thrusts, pushing his hard rod deeper into her mouth every time her finger disappeared inside him. The sensory overload was too much. He reached a breaking point, grabbing the back of her head and pushing her down hard, emptying himself in a violent, pulsing release deep in her throat.

Anika took it all, her throat working to swallow the thick loads of cum, though a few stray drops escaped the corners of her lips. She pulled away slowly, her finger sliding out of him with a wet pop. She collapsed beside him, breathless and glowing.

“Are you still angry?” she asked, her voice a playful purr.

Shivaay turned to her, his eyes dark with affection. He leaned in and licked the stray drop of cum from her lip before capturing her mouth in a passionate, deep kiss, their tongues tangling in a messy, intimate dance. He pulled back to kiss her forehead, his heart finally slowing to a peaceful rhythm.

“Thank you. I’m not angry anymore,” he smiled, his hand sliding down to the button of her jeans. “Now I need to return the favor, right?”

Just as he began to unbutton her pants, the sharp, piercing cry of baby Pari echoed from the nursery.

“Later,” Anika whispered with a wink, sliding off the bed and heading toward the bathroom to clean herself before tending to their daughter.