Rohit watched silently as Aisha broke down into quiet sobs. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her firmly against his chest.
"Shh… I know you're worried about her," he whispered hotly against her ear, his voice low and controlled. "But crying isn't going to fix anything."
"There's a way to handle this," he murmured, tightening his hold and rubbing her stomach as he pressed her closer. "But you have to listen to me and stop panicking. Understand?"
Aisha nodded weakly, still sniffling as she leaned back into him.
For a few moments she stayed there, trembling. But slowly, almost unconsciously, her hips began to move — a subtle, needy grinding as she rubbed her core against the growing bulge in Rohit's shorts.
Rohit's body tensed. His eyes darkened with lust.
He grabbed her waist tightly, stopping her movement.
"…If you keep rubbing yourself on me like that," he said, voice dangerously low, "I might cross the line again."
