Chapter 15: Temptation Sparks

The first days of the scorching summer arrived in a blast of dry, heavy wind. The ceiling fans in the classroom made a hollow, futile sound, stirring nothing but hot air. Shalini wiped a small line of sweat from her collarbone, feeling it tickle as it slid between the soft swell of her breasts.

She tried to focus on the lesson — a grammar exercise from their workbook — but her thoughts were hazy. Every time she turned back to the class, she could sense their eyes on her, following every movement of her body with a raw, unspoken intensity.

Ravi and Prayush sat near the front, a new confidence simmering in their gaze. They no longer tried to hide it. When she raised her arm to write on the chalkboard, Ravi's eyes zeroed in on the darkened, slightly damp fabric of her blouse under her arm. Prayush, from the side, openly stared at the slope of her waist, then brazenly let his gaze drop to her hips as she shifted.

A week ago, she might have scolded them, might have called them out for being disrespectful. But something had changed.

Something inside her had changed.

Ever since her talks with Malika, and the way those stories had burned through her mind late at night, she felt this odd, tingling power whenever she caught those young eyes drinking in her body. It was as if the hunger pouring off them fed something inside her that had been starved for too long.

As she bent forward to adjust a broken piece of chalk, she felt the loose neckline of her blouse gap open just slightly. Ravi's eyes grew round and glassy, like a boy in a trance. Shalini felt a scandalous thrill dance down her spine.

She straightened up, pretending she hadn't noticed, but her heart was thudding.

Look at how they worship you, she thought, hearing Malika's smoky voice in her mind. You could own them if you wanted.

She moved across the room, her sari pleats brushing against the desks, catching a few strands of Ravi's hair. She saw him tense, breathing deeply, as if desperate for any trace of her scent.

It was wrong. It was beyond wrong. These were her students.

Yet the heat in her belly refused to be smothered.

A part of her began to lean into it.

She let her movements get slower, more deliberate, drawing their eyes to the gentle sway of her hips, the shape of her legs beneath the thin cotton. Ravi swallowed so hard she could hear it from the front row.

"Ma'am?" he managed to croak, voice cracking like a boy whose childhood had just ended.

"Yes, Ravi?" she answered, forcing her tone to stay neutral.

He turned bright red, gaze darting to her chest, then to her face, then back down again. "N-nothing, sorry."

She gave him a knowing, secret smile. No, it's not nothing, is it?

The thought alone made her thighs clench.

Prayush, who had been silent so far, raised his hand, his palm slightly shaking. "Ma'am, I have a doubt after school. May I stay back for coaching?"

Her breath hitched.

"Yes," she replied, softer than she meant to. "Of course."

He nodded, looking like he might burst with a mixture of nerves and something darker.

Shalini felt the skin of her arms prickle with a rush of excitement. These boys were growing bolder, and it made her feel powerful in a way she hadn't tasted in years.

During the lunch break, she escaped to the staffroom, locking the small cupboard where she kept her personal things. She sat down in the corner chair, pressing her thighs together, unable to stop remembering the way Prayush had licked his lips looking at her arm, the way Ravi had gulped at the view down her blouse.

She imagined — just for a filthy second — what it might feel like to let them touch her. To command them.

Heat flushed up her neck, her nipples stiffening under her blouse. She let her head fall against the wall, eyes closing.

God, what is happening to me?

When she stood again, her knees trembled faintly. She drank a full glass of cold water to calm herself, but even that didn't drown the tingling ache between her legs.

The rest of the day blurred by, her mind half-present in class, half lost in half-forbidden, half-liberating fantasies. She felt the boys' gazes burning holes in her clothes, and the more they stared, the more she realized she liked being the focus of their devouring hunger.

At the end of the day, she stepped out into the warm dusk, her sari clinging to her slightly damp skin. The sunlight had softened to a deep amber, bathing the corridor in gold.

She waited, heart pounding, until the boys arrived for coaching.

They stepped into her house looking nervous, eager, and so incredibly young that it made her feel powerful and wicked all over again. Ravi's eyes couldn't leave her feet, watching each step of her sandals slapping the floor. Prayush sniffed the air like a desperate puppy, drawn to her perfume and sweat.

They would do anything, she thought, if I only asked.

She let them into the small coaching room, bending over the table more than necessary, letting the hem of her blouse ride up just a finger's width. She could hear Ravi's breath catch.

"Sit down," she said softly, her voice accidentally husky.

They obeyed instantly, wide-eyed, trembling a little.

She showed them their grammar exercises, but Ravi's eyes kept darting down to her toes, where a single ring gleamed against her henna-darkened skin. Prayush stared whenever she lifted her arms to reach the higher books, and she let him.

For a moment she even turned her face slightly, offering him the sweet, salty scent of her armpit, seeing the way his eyes dilated in fascination.

Shameless boys, she told herself. But her own arousal pulsed with every heartbeat.

She walked around behind their chairs, the wooden floor creaking with each slow, rhythmic step, enjoying how they seemed to shiver under her presence.

Her fingers brushed Ravi's shoulder lightly as she passed. He jumped, glancing up at her like a worshiper glimpsing a goddess.

Shalini felt a wicked smile twist the corner of her lips.

They wanted her — no, they adored her.

Why shouldn't I enjoy this?

The lesson ended far too soon, the boys lingering, unwilling to leave. Ravi fumbled as he packed his bag, looking torn between gratitude and something more carnal, while Prayush was flushed and glassy-eyed from how close he'd been able to get to her.

"Thank you, ma'am," Prayush stammered, stealing one last lungful of her scent as she leaned near to help collect their papers.

"You're welcome," she answered, barely hiding a sultry undertone.

After they left, Shalini slumped into the chair, her breath ragged, heart hammering. The echo of their stares, their yearning, their need — it was still on her skin, making her dizzy.

She slid her hand between her thighs, pressing against the damp heat there, panting as a wave of electric pleasure pulsed through her.

They want me. They worship me. God forgive me, but I want them to.

Her whole body shivered at the truth of it.

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