Chapter 19
4:10 AM
What was it? She frowned, her eyebrows scrunching up, yet her eyes refusing to open, as she felt the softest of caresses drift down the bridge of her nose, to her nose-pin, to her lips, her chin, her throat and up again. Was it a feather? she felt it on her lips again, this time rubbing along her lower lip, the friction that it caused sending a pleasant tingle through her. No, it wasn’t a feather. What was it then?
Her eyes fluttered open, as the caresses continued, the gentle roughness feeling familiar- and yet completely unfamiliar. Where was she? She squinted, as the sunlight hit her directly in her face? Why had she slept till so late? She would usually have finished all her chores by now, she tried to sit up- still dazed from her sleep, from the first sound sleep she had had in what felt like ages. But she was gently, almost tenderly, pushed back down. She closed her eyes yet again. What was it? and then she remembered it.
“Will it ever be how it is supposed to be?”
“Not after I just realized exactly how it is supposed to be.”
Her eyes snapped open, and this time, she turned her face away from the sun streaming in. And froze. Because she had just found out the source of those beautiful, light tingling caresses that she had been struggling to place.
“Aa-aap?” she asked him, her eyes widening further, as she tried not to pinch herself, shake her head, rub her eyes- tried to contain herself from checking if this was a dream. Could it be reality?
He chuckled, his beautiful face softening, his eyes warming- as he caressed her cheeks with the back of his hand, leaning up on his elbow, above her- as she lay there, staring up at him in wonder. “Haan, Rani Sahiba. Hum.” He whispered, bending to place his lips gently against her cheeks, his lips following the beautiful red color that raced across her satin skin. “Good Morning, Rani Sahiba.” He chuckled against her lips- before he took her lips in a tender kiss.
She closed her eyes, as she tried to clear the muddle that her mind had become the moment his lips touched her. Savouring this... this dream. Praying that it lasted... at least until she could gather the courage to face reality when it came knocking.
His lips released hers- and yet a feeling lingered. A feeling of... him. Of Belonging to Him. She sighed, and opened her eyes again. Her heart thudding when she found him still there, in front of her- gazing at her with a glimmer of... something she dared not name in his eyes.
“I... Good-good Morning.” she stuttered and then blushed when a slow smile spread across his lips. She faltered, again gathered her wits and opened her mouth then closed it again. Why was it so difficult? She had talked to him before this hadn’t she? Then why did it feel like a deliciously novel experience? Why did she suddenly feel shy about talking to him? Why did a hot blush color her when she felt his intense gaze on herself?
Why did it feel like this was the first time that she was falling in love with this man?
Why did it feel like, this was what was called Love at First Sight?
The Ariel Lace Erdem she had spent hours looking for was in shreds, the Chantilly lace hanging drunkenly while the bateau neck was stretched beyond repairs. He had pulled it down almost savagely, and instead of being scared, her blood strummed with exultation. Her legs were wrapped around him, back half-resting against the edge of a wall cornice. She knew that she should feel discomfort from the molded corners biting into her back, but all she felt was him. This desire that raced through her. Wanting him. Needing him. There were no maidenly blushes here. Nor was there any hesitations. Khushi was sure that when the fire dies out, she will have misgivings about what she was doing. What she was about to do. Misgivings that she would remember again but now, she arched into the kiss, lavishly entwining her tongue with his, tightening her legs - now wasn’t the time. She would live now. Repent later.
He probably felt her drifting off in her thoughts. She didn’t know how he did, but he had. Maybe he read her body language, she thought wryly even as she felt his long fingers wrapped around her wild locks. Winding around the crazy, silken strands. Tightening, almost painfully as he drew her into the kiss again, tighter. He rested her against the wall more fully and pulled the dress down one-handedly, fast and sure. Then, he slowly untangled her legs from around his waist. Stood her up, in nothing but her heels and her lingerie. For a split second, Khushi was glad that she had bought them very recently. She never usually splurged on them but the dress seemed to demand something special and La Perla it had been. She saw his eyes widen, the irises dilating. His nose flared. Didn’t he like it? Didn’t he...?
She stood in a sheer black lace triangle bra with Rose inspired embroidery and and silk-satin lace detailing with brushed copper accents and the panties (to her great delight) matched. High-waisted short with Rose inspired embroidery and silk satin detailing and a matching copper waistband. She watched him again, liked it do you? She thought even as she smoothed her hands down her body, watching his eyes follow her every actions. Glad for it. Feeling powerful. Feeling drunk on that need. He stared at her slick skin framed by the black lace. Eyes intent, face blank. Sweat beading on his forehead, light reflecting off his unfathomable, dark eyes.
She knew him, as much as she knew herself. Perhaps more. They wouldn’t talk. They didn’t need to now. She wouldn’t. It would break the misty net of magic that had enveloped them - cut them off from the world. That would come soon enough, she knew even as he drew her in holding her waist into a kiss that had her seeing stars. Panting. He wouldn’t slow down. She was scared. She was excited. It was a bigger rush than jumping off a damn mountain with nothing but a flimsy rope tied to her ankle. Bungee jumping - She had done that. Her heart hadn’t beat like this! There hadn't been an adrenaline rush that equalled to the one she was having now! What scared her was, there never will be, either. She fisted the front of his soft grey t-shirt, crumpling it. Trying to draw it over his head. Tugging at it. Wanting it off. His eyes lit with a secret smile, as if he knew what was on her mind. Good! She thought desperately, why wouldn’t he do it then? He stepped back, eyes still glinting and pulled the t-shirt off. Stood there looking like something out of the covers of the romantic novels she read so secretly. The worn black tracks he had been wearing riding low on his hips. She could see the edge of his boxers peeping out. Her mouth was dry. He stood there and she ran a light hand over his chest. Touching. Experimenting. Skimming. The joy of a new discovery lighting up her face. Revelling on the feel of her skin against his slick, beautifully sculpted one. He had a runner’s built, she thought, caressing. Nothing bulky but beautiful. Sleek. Like a big jungle cat. All grace and sinews. She experimentally ran her lips.. skimming them over his taut shoulder and heard him hiss. She smiled. Feeling powerful. All knowing. He was a visual delight. She kept on stroking, sweeping her lips across his chest this time. He stiffened, she could feel his taut muscles underneath her fingers. He looked at her, then, at the bed behind them. Before she knew it, he had swept her up in his arms and was striding towards the bed and as she felt one pump hitting the floor, then the other fell and bounced under her bed somehow, she found it ironic. She too was falling. Deep. Would she drown this time?
He dropped her on the bed from his own considerable height, making her bounce and as she sat up and leaned back against the headboard, he prowled towards her, the tracks were off, she swallowed. The striped white and green boxers.... He pulled her by the waist and hauled her smack against him and feasted on her slightly bruised lips again. She leaned into it. She licked her lips and his eyes darkened. “You’ll forget everything but me tonight” he rasped, “You’ll only taste me. Remember me. Nobody else. Just us” and she shuddered helplessly, even as she wondered about what he had meant by that.
He drew her in again; both kneeling before each other, he ran a finger down the side of her neck, followed the path with his mouth. Grazed the delicate skin with his teeth, making her shiver. Arnav reached around and unclasped the frothy lace at her back and carelessly threw it over the side of his bed, delicately caressing her ribs, the pearls of her spine. Her breasts swelled, and he noticed, eyes intent. As he stroked them, laved them with the same attention he would have given a legal document of their firm. Khushi realized at that moment why women considered Arnav to be such a good lover. He was intent with this as he was in every other aspect of his life. Intense. She broke out in goosebumps as he almost roughly turned her around, laying her on her stomach, nibbling on her neck, her shoulders. His grip had been tight, not painful exactly but tight. She knew she would have bruises tomorrow. Khushi didn’t care. It was as if she was on a rush that wouldn’t end. An endless discovery.
He turned her around again, more violently this time and pulled down the scrap of lace at her waist, and looked his fill at her, Khushi felt her whole body breaking out in hot flush. Strangely, for the very first time since they started this madness, “So beautiful Khushi... so incredibly beautiful...” he growled before sweeping down against her mouth again. She heard the bedside drawer being shnicked close even as she was lost in that kiss again, lips rubbing, tongues tangling... teeth nipping. He drew her bottom lip in his mouth and sucked, causing her to almost arch of the bed. Foil crumpled, “Khushi,” he said, hoarsely, “Are you ready?” she nodded, dazed. She was ready for anything he threw her way because this was the biggest rush she had ever experienced in her life.
He nudged into her; a delicious awakening and she felt it, and before she knew it, he had slammed in. Khushi gasped, the suddenness of it, her body rebelling, then, slowly softening around the alien intrusion. She saw Arnav’s face. The shock whitening him. Khushi didn’t know what would happen beyond that moment but she knew this - she didn’t want him to stop. He struggled even as her legs tightened around his waist, drawing him in deeper, while her lips mirrored the actions with his. He rested his forehead against hers. They moved, all sinewy grace, bursts of pleasure and heat, and Khushi noted, surprised - it was like a dance... A sizzling dance; all rhythm and sweaty grace. Funny, she thought, holding him close, they never had danced before this had happened. Another first. She could feel their bodies colliding. Becoming one. Separating. Joining again. A rhythm. That dance! Was this where magic originated? Khushi thought as she bit her lips to hold back the groans that seemed to be pushing to get out from her. “Don’t hold back,” he whispered against her ears. “Groan. Shout. Scream if you have to,” She moved against him, and he, her - in tandem. Like there were the only two in the world who could hear this... this music that they were moving to. He caressed her lips, rubbing a thumb over it, and she gasped before nipping at it. He laughed hoarsely, even as her warm mouth enveloped his digit, twirling her tongue around it then biting down again. She slowly combed away the cowlick that fell over his face that looked surprisingly young in the shadowed world they were in right now. He held the wandering hand against his face, for a moment and kissed it. Arnav’s fingers tangled with hers, and they moved again. A slow, rhythmic dance. Their first. Hers too. His hand wandered down, to the bundle of nerves. The core of her. Tonight, she thought, even as she threw her head back, lips parting in a half scream, the heat in her belly curling, expanding into one white hot infero that consumed her, while she cradled him against her heart - was one filled with them. As their past melded into their present, tying them up in a complicated knot; an undefined relationship.Would they survive it? She didn’t know. She didn’t want to think about it, not when this languid peace settled over her as it did now. He turned towards her, looking intently, then pulled her against him, Again? Again. Even as she went to him, willing. Surrendered what little she had left of herself, Khushi knew... It was a night of firsts. Perhaps, lasts too.
How had he missed this? How had he lived with this Angel and not realized how beautiful it could be? He closed his eyes, regret flowing through him as he thought about all the time he had lost. He felt her fingers caressing his forehead and his eyes snapped open- she was still lying beneath him- one of her hands now clutching the bed sheets to her chest while the other roamed over his face. He caught that hand in his and gently brought it to his lips, smiling as she blushed- like a new bride. It was difficult to believe that they’d been married for Eleven Years now. But he had never let her be the New Bride had he? He had made her his- never sparing a thought for what she wanted- and yet this beautiful woman had stayed on- had continued to live, had continued to make his existence worth living. He closed his eyes again as tears threatened to burst forth. Wasn’t it his turn then, to make sure she felt Loved?
However drunk he might have been last night, Shyam Jha had had a jolting epiphany that he knew no amount of Alcohol could drown out. Ever. The Craving- the mad want for Love that he had felt whenever he was around his Meneka was somehow echoed in her heart too. And that realization was like Salvation for him. Because it had, somehow ignited in him a fire. A Fire that warmed him to his very fingertips- A fire that consumed his very soul- that he longed to ignite in her too. And as he looked down at her, and saw her blush again, under the intensity of his gaze, he decided that it was time he grabbed this Second Chance at Life with both hands. This time- Meneka would be all his. And he would be All hers.
Just Like It Was Supposed To Be.
“A-aap aaj kaam par nahi jaenge?” (Won’t you go to work today?) She asked him, hesitantly- shyly. And He smiled. Not the charming smile he gave his clients- neither the roguish one he had used countless times on innumerable women before his Meneka had come into his life. This smile was tender, loving. A smile which gave his handsome face quite a different glow. His eyes glinted teasingly, amused as a slow chuckle rumbled through his chest. “Aap kahe to nahi jaenge, Rani Sahiba.” (I won’t go if you say, Rani Sahiba.)
Her eyes widened again, and he realized they had never enjoyed these little romantic things that normal couples did. He had never teased her, never tucked her to himself while she talked about anything and everything under the sun in that beautiful voice of hers. Never traced the blush on her, making her blush even more- never shared those little heartbeat skipping moments that only he seemed to experience. He had never taken her out on a fun date- He had never made her laugh- never made her shriek in ecstasy and glee as he picked her up, chased her- walked with her with gentle waves of the sea breaking over their feet. He had never bought her gajre made of fragrant mogra, never had the chance of adorning her hair with them, He had never sat with her under a tree in the Mumbai rain enjoying hot Pakore, he had never demanded that she feed him with her own hands- those small moments of bliss that he had dreamed of enjoying with her- why hadn’t he done all that? Why had he been so caught up in his past- so busy trying to forget it, that he had almost let his beautiful Present go?
“Rani Sahiba...” he sighed, as her hand cupped his cheek again, her thumb rubbing his cheekbone curiously, slightly turning his hand and touching her palm with his lips, and turned his head again- as her ministrations stopped, her eyes finding his, “Will you go out to Dinner with me tonight?” he asked her, his voice husky as his eyes refused to leave hers. And she smiled shyly, her eyes lowering as she nodded her head. And he smiled back, his eyes softening at her shyness. He would make it all good, he would bring back that love they seemed to have almost let go of. He would make it how it was supposed to be.
Exactly as it was supposed to be.
Dear Menaka,
I’ve been married almost seven years now; an arranged marriage. My husband’s a good man. A good provider but I never understand what he feels. At an early point of our life together he had once said that he loved me. While he doesn’t ever do anything to contradict it, he never does anything to show or support it either. I don’t know if he cares. I don’t know if I’ve become simply a responsibility to him now or if he feels more than that. I have become very depressed. What should I do?
LonelyInPaliHills.
Dear LIP,
Marriage is a difficult thing where both parties have to compromise. Sacrifice me for us. I am sure your husband still loves you, because love can’t just go away. Like you said, he does nothing to show that he doesn’t, does he? Work at it. Hold on to it with both hands. Make him realize what you feel right now because if he does love you, It will all be worth it in the end. It always is. It will be as it’s supposed to be.
Menaka.
She slipped the letter into the envelope and smiled as she stacked the last of her answers for mailing back to the offices. She looked up at the clock and smiled again, her hand going up to twirl a piece of hair as it settled down on her forehead. She would have to start getting ready soon. She looked back and blushed when she saw her Husband sleeping on their bed, his mouth slightly open- as he took his “afternoon nap” as he had told her, his eyes twinkling mischievously- after all he needed his energy for their “Dinner” tonight! Her smiled widened, a sigh escaping her, feeling as if she had been holding on to it for ages, feeling liberated- feeling wanted. Loved.
It is as it is supposed to be. Finally.
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