The beach was empty, only the sound of the waves and the cry of gulls in the distance could be heard. Prachi sat on the cool sand with her knees drawn to her chest and her face buried in her arms. The humiliation of Rhea's public accusation—"She slept with a professor to get ahead!"—still burned in her chest like a live coal. The slap she'd delivered in the library had felt righteous at the time, but now it only added to the weight pressing down on her.
She hadn't slept with anyone. She'd never even been kissed properly. And yet, the rumor spread through campus like wildfire, staining her reputation and making her feel dirty in a way she couldn't wash off.
Footsteps approached, soft and unhurried. She didn't look up.
"Mind if I sit?"
The voice was calm and warm, unfamiliar yet somehow comforting. She lifted her head and saw a man standing a respectful distance away. He was tall and composed with dark eyes that held no judgment. He was older than her, perhaps in his mid twenties. He was dressed simply in a white linen shirt and trousers. There was something about him that made her feel safe. This was strange because she didn't know him at all.
"I'm Suyash," he said, offering a small smile. "Suyash Shrivastav. I own the island."
Her eyes widened. "You're the owner?"
"Guilty." He gestured at the sand beside her. "May I?"
She nodded hesitantly, and he sat down, not too close and not too far away. Just present.
"I saw what happened at the library," he said quietly. "I'm sorry. That wasn't fair to you."
Prachi's throat tightened. "You believe me? That I didn't..."
"I know you didn't. I've been watching—not in a creepy way," he added quickly, with a hint of self-deprecating humor in his voice. "I pay attention to the students on my island. You're one of the good ones, Prachi. Hardworking. Kind. You don't deserve what that girl did to you."
She looked at him, surprised that he knew her name. "Thank you. I just... I don't know why she hates me so much. I've never done anything to her."
"Some people don't need a reason. They just need a target." He paused. "You look like you could use a warm drink. There's a café on the beach just up the shore. It's my treat. No expectations. I just want someone to talk to. Or not talk at all. Whatever you need."
She hesitated. She didn't know this man. But something in his eyes—genuine, patient, and kind—made her nod.
"Okay. Just coffee. I've never actually tried alcohol."
He smiled. "Coffee it is."
—
The Beach Café 🏖️
The small, open-air café had wooden tables and fairy lights strung between palm trees. The evening breeze carried the scents of salt and jasmine. Suyash ordered a black coffee for himself and, after a moment's thought, a hot chocolate for Prachi.
She wrapped her hands around the warm mug and stared into the swirling liquid. "I grew up watching my mother struggle. She worked so hard—sometimes two or three jobs—just to give me a chance. And now I'm here on this beautiful island, but I still feel like I'm failing her. Like I don't belong."
"You belong," Suyash said simply. "You earned your place here. Scholarship students are chosen because they're exceptional, not charity cases."
She looked up at him, her eyes glistening. "How do you know I'm on scholarship?"
"I told you. I pay attention." He took a sip of his coffee. "You're not invisible, Prachi. Not to everyone."
The words hit her deep down. She blinked rapidly, fighting back tears. "No one's ever said that to me before."
"Then they weren't looking properly."
She stared at him for a long moment, then looked down at her hot chocolate. "You said I could try alcohol."
"I did."
"I want to. Just tonight. I want to not feel anything. Just for a little while."
He studied her. Yes, she was hurting. But she was an adult and capable of making her own choices. He signaled the server and ordered a glass of sweet, golden, honeyed dessert wine.
She sipped it cautiously at first, wrinkling her nose at the unfamiliar burn. "It's...strange. Sweet, but also...warm?"
"Slowly," he cautioned. "It can sneak up on you."
But Prachi, desperate to escape her pain, drank faster than she should have. The glass was empty before she realized it. Suyash, watching her carefully, ordered her a second glass, but with more water than wine to keep her from getting drunk too quickly.
By the time she finished the second glass, her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes had taken on a glassy, unfocused quality.
"Suyash..." she murmured, her words beginning to slur. "You're...you're really handsome. Did anyone ever tell you that?"
He smiled gently. "Once or twice. How are you feeling?"
"Floaty." She giggled, a sound he suspected she rarely made. "Everything's spiny. But in a good way. Like the bad thoughts can't catch me anymore."
"That's the alcohol." He signaled for the check. "I should take you back to your dorm."
"No." She grabbed his sleeve, her grip surprisingly strong. "I don't want to go back there. She's there, Rhea. I can't... I can't face her tonight."
"Prachi—"
"Please." Her eyes were wet and pleading. "Just don't make me go back. Not yet."
He hesitated. Taking a drunk, vulnerable girl to his penthouse was a bad idea. However, leaving her alone on campus where Rhea could find her and where she might do something reckless was worse.
"My penthouse," he finally said. "You can sleep in the guest room. No expectations. I give you my word."
She nodded, relief flooding her features. "Thank you. Thank you, Suyash "
----
The penthouse was warm and lit by the soft glow of the city beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows. Suyash guided Prachi to the guest bedroom; her body was warm and pliant against his. She stumbled, laughing softly, and he caught her and steadied her.
"Easy," he murmured. "Let's get you to bed."
She looked up at him, her doe eyes glassy but earnest. "You're so kind. Why are you so kind to me?"
"Because you deserve it," he said simply.
She reached up and brushed his cheek with her fingers. "No one's ever... I've never..." Her words trailed off, lost in the haze of alcohol.
He helped her onto the bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. "Sleep. I'll be in the next room if you need anything."
He turned to leave.
"Wait."
Her hand caught his wrist. When he looked back, her eyes were wet, but not with sadness. With something else. Something raw and desperate.
"I don't want to be alone," she whispered. "Please. Just stay. Just for a little while."
He hesitated. She was drunk. Vulnerable. Not in her right mind.
"Prachi, you're not thinking clearly—"
"I don't want to think." Her voice cracked. "I've been thinking my whole life. Worrying. Trying to be perfect. Just for tonight, I want to stop. Please. Make me stop thinking."
She pulled him down, her lips finding his—clumsy and desperate and tasting of sweet wine.
Suyash, who had wanted her from the moment he recognized her on the show and had been patient, careful, and deliberate in his pursuit, found his resolve crumbling.
She was drunk. Her inhibitions were gone, her usual shyness replaced by a raw, unfiltered need. She kissed him with an urgency that surprised him, her hands fumbling with the buttons of his shirt.
"Prachi." He gently caught her wrists, searching her glassy eyes. "Are you sure? In the morning—"
"I don't care about tomorrow." Her voice cracked. "I care about now. I need to feel something other than pain. Please. I'm begging you. I know what I'm doing."
He searched her face. Behind the alcohol-induced haze, he saw a desperate, aching clarity. She wasn't blackout drunk. She was in pain and grasping for the only comfort she could find.
"All right," he said softly. "But we'll go slow. And if you want to stop—"
"I won't want to stop."
He undressed her slowly and reverently. He removed each piece of her clothing with care, pressing soft kisses to each newly exposed inch of skin: her simple cotton kurti, her practical white bra, her modest underwear. Her collarbone. The swell of her breast. The curve of her hip.
"You're beautiful," he murmured against her skin. "So beautiful."
She shivered, but not from the cold. "I've never...no one's ever..."
"I know." He kissed her stomach, just below her navel. "I'll take care of you."
His mouth found her breast. He brought his lips to the colored tip and extended his tongue for a quick lick.
"Mmm..."
Prachi's body jerked at the unfamiliar sensation. Her hand flew to his head, her fingers tangling in his hair.
This time, he took the stiff peak between his lips and sucked gently.
"Ahhh..."
Her back arched, pressing her chest more firmly against his mouth. He grazed her with his teeth, nibbling softly.
"Ahhh..."
Her grip on his hair tightened. "Ah, so this is what it feels like when someone touches you there."
"Does it feel good?"
After just a few moments, Prachi let out a dreamy sigh. "Yeah, it feels so much better than I imagined. At this rate, I might... I might come just from my breasts."
Her embarrassed, hazy smile was an invitation.
"Then let me make you feel good," he murmured.
He buried his face in her chest, licking, sucking, and nibbling, alternating between gentle teasing and stronger, more deliberate stimulation. His other hand massaged her neglected breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers.
"Ahhh! Oh, that's so intense!"
"You're responding beautifully," he said between licks. "Your body knows what it wants."
"Mmm... Mmm..."
He could tell how much she was enjoying it by how she clenched her fingers in his hair, guiding him to her most sensitive spots. As he licked her nipple and areola, coating them with warm saliva, Prachi shivered with pleasure.
"Your tongue is rough, and it's making my nipples so sensitive. I'm going crazy!"
He wanted that. He wanted her to reach a point where her own fingers would never be enough.
"Ahhh... Ahh... No, wait...! If it continues like this, I'll come from my breasts."
He pulled back slightly, letting the cool air hit her wet skin. She whimpered at the loss. Then, he latched on again and sucked hard. A particularly sweet taste spread through his mouth.
"Slurp... Prachi, you taste so sweet."
"No way. It's just your imagination."
She looked away, embarrassed, and he found it impossibly endearing.
He twisted his lips and bit down gently on the sensitive peak. Then he lifted his head sharply and tugged.
"Ah—hi—!"
Prachi's breath caught—the sudden bite and pull sent an intense shock through her.
"Mmm—"
She pressed her head back against the pillow, arching her spine. Her eyes squeezed shut and her whole body trembled as she released the pleasure she couldn't contain.
(I made Prachi come just from her breasts...)
Suyash watched her, intoxicated by the sight of her surrender.
"Ah... haa... I can't believe I... from just my breasts..."
Her hazy, half-lidded eyes found his. "I told you to wait."
There was no real anger in her voice, just embarrassment and lingering pleasure.
"You didn't really want me to wait," he said softly. "Your body was begging for release."
Her cheeks flushed deeper. "Maybe. But..." Her hand drifted downward, her fingers brushing against his hard length through his trousers. "I wish you'd made me come with this first."
The words, delivered in a sweet, almost pleading voice, snapped something in him.
"Prachi..."
He kissed her deeply, his tongue sliding against hers and swallowing her gasp. His hands roamed her body, caressing her breasts, hips, and the soft curve of her waist. She clung to him, her nails lightly raking down his back.
"I want to be inside you," he breathed against her lips. "Tell me you want that, too."
"Yes," she whispered. "Yes, I want... I want you inside me."
He shed his remaining clothes, his erection springing free—thick and flushed, the tip already glistening. Prachi's eyes widened, and a flicker of nervousness crossed her features.
"It's...it's so big. Will it even fit?"
"We'll go slow," he promised. "I won't hurt you. Trust me."
She nodded, her breath shallow.
He positioned himself between her thighs, the tip of his penis pressing against her wet folds. She was soaked—the alcohol and her earlier climax had made her ready, despite her inexperience, her body eager.
He pushed forward slowly. The head slipped past her outer lips and nestled against her entrance. A hot, sticky fluid clung to his tip.
"Mmm..."
She shuddered at the contact.
"It's so hot and tight inside you already..."
He pushed further, the head breaching her. Her inner walls clenched around him, tight as a virgin's, almost painfully so. He moved agonizingly slowly, letting her body adjust to each inch.
"Ah, it's being pushed open, and something hot is coming."
"Your pussy is so tight. Amazing."
Halfway in, he encountered resistance. A thin, intact membrane waited for him.
(Her hymen. This is it.)
He paused and looked into her eyes. "Prachi. This might hurt. But only for a moment. I need you to trust me."
She gazed up at him, her doe eyes hazy yet trusting. "I trust you, Suyash. Make me yours."
He kissed her forehead, then pushed through.
A popping sensation, like rubber bursting, traveled up his shaft. Prachi gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders and her teeth sinking into her lower lip.
"Ugh, it hurts!"
"I know. I know, sweetheart. Just breathe. It's almost over."
He held still, buried to the hilt, letting her adjust. A small amount of blood—unmistakable—slicked his shaft, mingling with her wetness. Her virgin blood. It was the evidence of what she had given him.
Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. "It hurts. I didn't think it would hurt this much."
He stroked her hair and cheek, kissing away her tears. "You're so brave. So beautiful. I'm sorry for the pain. I'll make it feel good now, I promise."
She sniffled and managed a weak smile. "Hehe... In that case, will you make me feel good like before? Make me forget the pain?"
"Absolutely."
He kissed her deeply and slowly, his tongue tangling with hers. One hand returned to her breast, kneading it gently and rolling her nipple between his fingers. The other stroked her hair, grounding her.
"Prachi... I'm going to move now. Tell me if it's too much."
She nodded, her breath catching in her throat as he began a slow, gentle rhythm.
At first, the sensation was overwhelming—too intense. But gradually, as he continued to kiss and caress her, her body began to respond. The tight clench of her inner walls softened, becoming more welcoming. The pain faded, replaced by something else: Something warm and building.
"Mmm, ah... I love this... You're touching my whole body, inside and out... Everywhere you touch feels good."
Her sighs grew heated. Her hips began to move with his, meeting his thrusts.
"Kiss me," she breathed. "Keep kissing me. I think I'm okay now. You can move more."
He didn't need to be told twice. His rhythm increased and his thrusts became deeper and more confident. Her honeyed cavity gripped him—tight at the entrance, softer and more yielding deeper inside, then clenching again near her depths, as if trying to milk him.
"Ah...hah...Suyash...does it feel good inside me?"
"Incredible," he groaned. "You feel incredible, Prachi. I want to stay inside you forever."
"Hehe, you're so dramatic, but that's okay. Put it in as much as you like. Feel as good as you want."
Her acceptance and surrender amplified his pleasure tenfold. He was close—too close. The violent tightness of her virgin channel and the way she clenched around him with each thrust pushed him to the edge.
"Hmmm... Ah, Suyash, are you about to come?"
"How did you know?"
"Because you look like you're enjoying it so much, and you have this look on your face like you can't hold back."
He was about to pull out to spare her the risk when her legs wrapped around his waist and locked him in place.
"Wait! You can come wherever you want, Suyash."
His hips stilled. (She's asking me to come inside her.)
"Prachi, are you sure?"
She tightened her legs, pulling him deeper. "I'm sure. I want to feel you. All of you."
The words shattered his restraint.
"Prachi—"
He thrust into her with all his might, grinding his pubic bone against hers and pressing his glans against her cervix.
"Ahh... Suyash. Suyash... ♡"
The moment his tip touched her deepest point, her entire canal clamped down on him like a vise.
Splat, spurr, splat!
His release erupted—hot, thick, and pulsing—filling her in wave after wave. He groaned and shuddered as he emptied himself inside her.
"Mmmh, Suyash's... It's amazing... It's twitching and jumping... And each time, something hot comes inside me..."
Prachi's voice was ecstatic, her body trembling beneath him as she absorbed every pulse.
When it was over, he collapsed beside her and pulled her into his arms. She curled up against his chest, already half-asleep; the alcohol and release were pulling her under.
"Stay," she murmured.
"I'm here," he promised. "I'm not going anywhere."
—
Prachi woke up to sunlight streaming through unfamiliar windows and a dull ache between her legs.
For a blissful moment, she couldn't remember. Then it all came crashing back—the beach, the café, the wine. The way she'd begged him. The way he'd touched her. The way she'd responded.
Oh God! What have I done?
She sat up too fast, her head pounding. The sheets pooled around her naked body. She saw it—the faint pink-brown stain on the white cotton. Evidence of what she'd given him: Her virginity. Lost in a drunken haze to a man she barely knew.
Tears burned her eyes. She was a good girl. A traditional girl. She had been saving herself for marriage, for the right person, for commitment. And now...
The bathroom door opened. Suyash emerged, wearing a simple white kurta and carrying a glass of water and two white tablets.
"For your headache," he said quietly, setting them on the nightstand.
She couldn't look at him. She pulled the sheet up to her chin, her face burning with shame.
"Prachi." His voice was gentle. "Look at me."
She shook her head, a sob escaping her. "I can't. I can't believe I... I was saving myself. I was saving myself, and I just... I threw it away like it was nothing. I don't even know you. I got drunk, and I... I let a stranger..."
"I'm not a stranger," he said softly. "I'm Suyash. I know this doesn't change what happened, but I want you to know that I didn't take anything from you last night. You gave it to me freely. Freely. Even drunk, you chose. That matters."
"It doesn't feel like it matters." She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "I feel dirty. Like I betrayed everything I believed in."
He sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to touch her. "You're not dirty, Prachi. You were in pain and reached out for comfort. That's human." For what it's worth, I care about you." This wasn't just physical for me. I've been watching you since you arrived on this island. You're kind and strong, and you deserve better than what that girl did to you."
She finally looked at him, searching his face. "Why me?"
"Because you're you," he said simply. "And I couldn't stand to see you in pain."
She was quiet for a long moment. Then, slowly, she took the water and the tablets and swallowed them.
"I need time," she finally said. "To process. To figure out how I feel."
"Take all the time you need." He stood up. "I'll have a car take you back to campus whenever you're ready. And Prachi?"
She looked up.
"Whatever you decide—if you never want to see me again or if you want to talk—I'll respect it. You're in control here. Not me."
He left the room, closing the door softly behind him.
Prachi sat alone in rumpled sheets. The morning light warmed her skin, and the faint ache between her thighs was a constant reminder. She didn't know what she felt. Anger at herself? Confusion. Shame.
But beneath it all, buried deep, was something else. It felt dangerously like the beginning of feelings she wasn't ready to name.
{ A/N- I have deleted several chapters to remove everything related to virtual reality.🚫💻
It felt a bit forced and unnecessary, and I noticed it was making the dialogue feel more like a conversation between two AIs. 🤖
You will notice some changes moving forward, but you don't need to reread the previous chapters—just keep in mind that the Neon Bay game and all virtual reality elements are now gone from the story! 🖐️✨
Thanks for reading! If you are enjoying the story, please leave a comment, send some Power Stones, and drop a review! 💎💬⭐ }