42. Revival
42
Revival
Vera
T he air smelled different. Earthy and cool. Vera took a deep breath in, closing her eyes. Her chest lifted as she inhaled, her lungs filling with a freshness that made her feel almost buoyant. Something was changing and she wasn’t sure if it was just the weather that had her feeling this way.
It was as though she was seeing daybreak after an age of rolling thunderclouds.
Vera threw a glance back at the house, most of the lights dim. Standing in their personal garden, she felt tucked away, hidden from the rest of the world. She loved it here, even if she’d never said as much to Vihaan. She could run in circles here dressed like a clown, and the rest of the house would be oblivious. She raked a hand over the flowering bushes as she strolled toward the thicket of trees that made her feel like she was in her own version of The Secret Garden. Such privacy, after a lifetime of living in small quarters, was a luxury that Vera didn’t quite know what to do with .
The serenity here had helped Nanu, however. Away from the bustling noises of the city and the constant distractions and disturbances within a care home, he was less nervous and experiencing far fewer agitated declines than before.
He had round-the-clock care, and was spending his days in comfort, in no small part due to Vihaan’s insistence on creating a sanctuary for her grandfather. He’d never asked for permission, afraid of his help being rejected, always warily staring at Vera when he made any decision regarding Nanu’s healthcare or living accommodations.
Maybe a few weeks ago, her anger would have shrouded her ability to see his goodness. She couldn’t deny it anymore though. For all his claims of being selfish and terrible, Vihaan had gone out of his way to care for her grandfather in a way she knew she could’ve never achieved on her own. Sure, he was domineering and unbearably cocky. But he was also patient, determined, and protective of the people he loved. Like Nanu. Like her.
Maybe that’s why she’d not rushed to Nanu’s aid. Because at the end of the day, she’d begun to trust Vihaan once more with the most vulnerable parts of her. She’d never have been able to watch Vihaan care for Nanu otherwise, without interfering.
Deep in her thoughts, she did not hear the rustle of grass behind her. She sucked in a surprised breath when a thick blanket covered her, a firm chest pressing into her back as she was engulfed in softness and warmth.
She twisted her neck to glance behind and sure enough, it was Vihaan, looking at her like he was seeing her after an eon of missing her face. Heat prickled up her neck and her gaze dropped to his arms. A moment later, almost reluctantly, his hold loosened.
He cleared his throat, stepping to stand beside her. “What are you doing out here?”
“Thinking.”
“About? ”
Lips twisted to the side, she hugged the blanket to herself. “Do you remember that time in seventh grade, the annual school event? Our class was preparing for the final dance show and you tripped me during practice. I couldn’t perform because of you.”
Like a fish gasping for air, his mouth opened and closed before he wheezed out a desperate curse. “Fuck, you’re really doing a deep dive to look for reasons to hate me, aren’t you?”
Vera barely held back her confusion.
“We were twelve,” he exasperatedly continued, not having noticed her bemusement. “If you must know, I was being an idiot. I wanted to dance with you, and I didn’t know how to make that happen so I was trying to trip your partner.”
Vihaan grumbled a bit more under his breath, seemingly discomfited with the idea of going down memory lane with her.
“What about when you broke my cycle?” she asked.
“Nine-year-old boys can be rowdy little shitheads, Princess,” he sighed, as if resigned to Vera digging up all the things he’d done wrong. “I was no different. It wasn’t intentional, if you care to believe me.”
“You broke your bike that same week. Coincidence?”
Vihaan’s silence was enough to confirm her suspicion. How far back did his interest in her go? She’d always assumed that, like her, the year they’d dated was the year his feelings had changed. He’d made a flippant remark once that he’d liked her for much longer than that, but she’d never given credence to it. “You started walking behind me to school everyday.”
“I can’t tell if you’re looking for confirmation or accusing me,” Vihaan muttered, sliding her a suspicious glance.
“Just asking.”
He shrugged, a single shoulder lifting and dropping. “You wouldn’t let me walk with you.”
“I thought you were doing it to annoy me. ”
That got him to crack a small smile. “Annoying you was simply a bonus. I felt bad and I didn’t want you to have to walk alone.”
With a short nod, Vera turned away, going back to observing the moon, as if it held answers to the rest of her questions. Under the moonlight, with the wind rustling the leaves in the trees that surrounded them, making their garden their own little sanctuary, she couldn’t think of anywhere else she’d rather be.
It was the first time in the month since their wedding that she felt at peace. Like this marriage, irrespective of the circumstances it had taken place under, was life’s way of giving her something she hadn’t known she needed. She felt his stare and turned, catching the look of longing on his face before he pretended to gaze at the moon instead.
“I saw you.”
He tilted his head curiously, a silent question.
“With Nanu,” Vera explained. “I saw what you did earlier this evening in his room.”
Vihaan dragged a tired hand down his face, looking haggard. “You were finally resting. I promise you, I didn’t hurt him. You’ve been wearing yourself out between work and caring for him and I. . .” He sighed loudly. “Honestly, I only wanted to help. That’s it. I’m allowed to do that. He means something to me, too.”
“You think I. . .” Vera stopped, shocked that he’d concluded that she was annoyed with him. The vulnerability that flickered in Vihaan’s eyes shook her. How had she not seen his sadness? Or if she had, how had she ignored it? She’d been so caught up in her anger and need to protect herself, that she’d repeatedly wounded a man who’d made a mistake at eighteen.
Eighteen. That’s it.
They’d been children who’d had big feelings, and an equally big fall-out. At eighteen, their communication skills had fallen short, and their misplaced egos led them to fail a life test. How was it fair that only Vihaan made reparations, then ?
With this new outlook, yet another piece of the calm she’d been missing since she’d left Nagpur slipped into place, instilling a strength that wasn’t laced with doubt and censure.
“I’ve insisted on seeing the worst in you over the last few months, haven’t I?” she finally conceded, ashamed of herself.
“You had good reason to.”
“You excuse my behaviour but not your own. Why?”
It was impossible not to notice the shadows under his eyes when she asked him this, or the way his muscles went taut, the vein in his throat jutting out as he struggled to swallow his feelings.
“Because I’m the one who messed up,” he said, his voice roughened with emotions. “You think you’re the only one who can’t forgive me? I can’t forgive myself either. Knowing what I said, what I did to you. Where we could have been today if only—”
He broke off, his regret palpable. His pain wove itself through the air, sinking into her consciousness, eroding her rapidly weakening defence.
“Can we move ahead without forgiveness?” she asked, her voice low, almost afraid of his answer.
Vihaan let out a soft huff, a sound that was a mixture of acceptance and understanding. “Forgiveness isn’t in one moment. It can take years, and if it is time you want from me, I’ll give you every second of my life.”
How he remained so patient in the face of her defiance was as much an enigma to her as the source of his feelings.
“Why do you love me? I’ve not made it easy for you, then why?”
“Has anyone in the history of lovers ever been able to answer that correctly?”
“I don’t know.” She shook her head ruefully. “I’ve only ever cared to ask one man that question.”
Vihaan’s sharp intake of breath was one she didn’t miss.
“As a seventeen-year-old boy,” he began, his coffee eyes locked with hers, “you were the first person who made me want to be better. Who told me I was more than who I was pretending to be. You’ve been the voice in my head since then. Together or apart, you’ve been a part of me. The man you see is the man you’ve made. How do I not love you when you’re so deeply entrenched in who I am?”
A slow tingle spread across her body, warming her from the tips of her toes to her head, prickling behind her eyes. It took her a moment to find her voice again. “You’ve come a long way. From hating me to—”
“I never hated you.”
His reply was quick. Unequivocal.
“Vihaan,” she called, chiding him softly.
“I never hated you,” he insisted, his hand reaching out to hold hers before he pulled back, unsure if she’d welcome his touch. “I hated that I couldn’t love you. I didn’t understand the distinction until I fell in love with you again.”
“What if I don’t love you?”
“Then I’ll wait another fourteen years.”
The speed with which he answered her, the flash of resignation he tried to keep hidden, told her that he believed her to be capable of keeping him waiting for that long.
“And then?” she prodded, seeing how far she could push him. But all he did was smile at her like she’d said something cute.
“I’m not going anywhere. It’s always been you, Vera.”
And just like that, every last shield fell away. Misty eyed, her next words came out in a broken confession. “I’m tired of hating you. It’s exhausting, trying to hold onto something I no longer feel. But. . .”
“But?” he prompted, sounding like he was holding his breath.
Vera pushed up onto her toes, one hand coming up to hold his cheek gently. Her lips pressed against his sweetly, hesitantly, as if she wasn’t sure he’d want it. It lasted but a few seconds but when she leaned back, her heart was galloping within her chest, the tops of her ears burning when she caught his astounded expression .
“I need time to let myself believe in ‘forever’. Until then, I can give you ‘for now’.”
Vihaan reached for her hand and pressed it into the center of his chest where his heart pulsed under her touch.
“Do you feel that? Every beat of my heart is the sound of your name. For now. Forever.”
Her fingers clutched his when he asked, “Please tell me I’m allowed to touch you the way I’ve been dying to.”
She nodded, her chest tightening in anticipation of being swept up in him again. “Touch me.”
The tremor in his hand wasn’t hidden when he raised it to cup her jaw. Her mouth parted softly when he traced the bottom curve, his eyes tracking his finger, focused on her lips like he needed to feel it more than his next breath. He stepped closer, one hand at her waist, the air between them burgeoning with longing. “I’m allowed to kiss you?”
“Yes.”
“E-everywhere?” he stuttered, visibly thrumming with desperation and excitement.
“Everywhere,” she husked, her irises dilating as desire pooled at the pit of her belly.
A tortured sound rumbled in his throat when he rested his forehead against hers. Eyes closed, he licked his dry lips, taking a few calming breaths. “If you want me to stop, it has to be now. Before I begin. Because once I do—”
She shushed him, pressing her fingers gently against his mouth before gliding them down his neck to rest on his shoulder.
“I don’t want you to stop. I want you to show me what I’ve missed. Show me you’re mine.”
It wasn’t just the way in which he grabbed her by the throat and pulled her into him that had her gasping for breath. It was how his lips fit over hers, end-to-end, with a perfection that was tough to deny. It was in the way he whimpered when she kissed him back, like he was finally whole again, that had her feeling like she’d weep. And when his tongue slid into her mouth, tangling with hers, devouring her with a need that seemed like it would consume them both, Vera knew she didn’t stand a chance at keeping her heart guarded for much longer. Not when he picked her over and over again. Not when he unabashedly declared his utter servitude to her. Not when he loved her like this—with a madness that refused to abate.
Her back hit the trunk of the tree behind, but all she could feel was Vihaan’s hard muscles pressing into her, his hands mapping her body in heavy strokes and hungry clutches. He licked and laved down the sensitive column of her neck, murmuring words of love and commitment, speaking into her skin as though licking an invisible tattoo upon them.
“I’ll never let you go. I’ll be so good to you; you’ll never regret giving me another chance.”
“Yes,” she gasped, squirming to get closer as his hand sought the skin beneath her shirt. As impatient as he was, she raised her arms to help him slide her top off, reaching for his shirt with an eagerness that had him groaning.
“Fuck, sweetheart, if this is a dream, I don’t ever want to wake up,” he panted, making her throw her arms around his neck and suckle on his lush lower lip. Between kisses, nips, and greedy touches, their clothes fell away, leaving them ready for each other without the barriers they’d erected before.
Vera made a sound of distress when he drew away from her, missing the heat he provided.
“Wait,” he rasped when she made a move to come to him, stilling her.
An arm’s length away, his eyes roved over her body, drinking in the sight of her standing naked in their garden, waiting for him. Her toes curled in at his perusal as he swept a slow gaze over her silken limbs and the trimmed strip of hair that hid her feminine core. The dip of her waist curved up to her plump tits which were heaving as she drew quick breaths, increasingly affected by the awe in his expression.
“Every time I look at you, it hits me again, how beautiful you are. You’re unreal.”
“You’ve seen me before,” Vera mumbled, her skin growing flushed at the riveted look on his face.
“Not like this,” he murmured, finally stepping closer, one heated palm drawing up to cup her swollen breast, making her bite down on her lower lip. “Not as my wife.”
It was poetic that their reunion would have echoes of the first time they’d been intimate, under the shadows of lush trees, surrounded by the open air with the night sky creating a sparkling canvas of dark purple and indigo overhead.
“Beautiful,” he whispered again, dropping soft kisses along the line of her shoulder and back, lowering himself slowly. On his knees, he nuzzled her stomach as his palms shaped her strong thighs, massaging every womanly curve he loved.
His lips traced over the arch of her hip bone, the tip of his tongue tickling down into the crease where her thigh met her pelvis. The stubble on his chin scraped her delicate skin, causing her to suck in her stomach. No one had kissed her intimately since she was a teenager, and Vera had forgotten how vulnerable it could feel. She twisted her hips, unconsciously trying to escape, gasping out loud when he bit the soft flesh there in punishment.
The fingers in his hair tightened when she pulled, forcing his neck to snap back. His eyes darkened in lust when he dragged his gaze up and she could only imagine how she looked, leaning over him, exposed to the silver moonlight, her pebbled nipples looking like ripe berries begging to be bitten and sucked.
“Good husbands don’t bite.” Her breathy murmur belied her complaint.
“Good wives don’t interrupt their husband’s meal.”
She huffed out a laugh. “Talk less and do more, Charming. ”
His brow curved up at the playful dare and he shot her a lazy smile.
“Then keep my mouth occupied and feed me your pussy.”
She could barely breathe when he drew her free hand behind his neck, firming her grasp on his head. “Use me. I’ll give you what you want.”
And that was exactly what she did. Her back resting against the tree trunk, she hooked one slim leg over his shoulder and pulled him closer, sighing softly when his breath wafted over her damp flesh, making her pussy quiver in need. His large palms held her by the curve of her firm ass, kneading her while he teased her with little cat licks, nuzzling her soft skin with his nose as he got closer and closer to his destination. Her grip on his hair told him exactly how desperate she was getting when he placed an open-mouthed kiss right over where her clit begged for attention.
“I need more.” Her breathless demand transformed into a needy whimper when his tongue traced the closed seam of her pussy, torturing her with a promise he was deliberately taking too long to fulfil.
He drew his hands down and inwards, holding her like he was about to drink from the chalice of her womb. His thumbs spread her swollen lips open, hungrily staring at her throbbing cunt.
“Fuck, Princess, look how you’re dripping for me. You’re perfect.”
God, his words alone had her leaking down her thighs. She’d have been embarrassed at her neediness, but his mesmerised expression made it clear he liked seeing her response to him. Just when she thought she’d die from waiting, his mouth returned to her core, his pointed tongue dipping so deep within her that she couldn’t hold back the moan that built up in her throat.
“Oh, F-fuck! Don’t s-stop.”
She tilted her hips, feeling him lick into her, giving her what she’d denied herself for ages. Vihaan hummed and groaned his pleasure, keeping her open while he fucked her with his tongue, working her until she was close before pulling back, only to start all over again. It was as if he couldn’t bear to end it too quickly now that he’d finally gotten to taste her once again.
Oversensitive from being brought to the edge and unable to withstand the building pressure within her, she twisted, trying to push Vihaan away. With a deep, rumbling growl that emanated from somewhere within his chest, his grip on her increased, her hooked thigh automatically opening wider when he pushed himself closer, refusing to interrupt his meal.
Two thick fingers slipped into her, curving and stroking slowly within her as his hot mouth latched on to her peak, his tongue slashing against it repeatedly. She pushed him away, pulled him closer, lost to everything except his touch, his kiss, his love. Her desperate cries for him to give her relief had Vihaan doubling his efforts. His teeth grazed lightly over her fluttering clit while he worked his fingers into her, scissoring and curling until she was clenching hard around him. Recognising that she was seconds away from falling apart, he dipped down, his tongue entering the space between his spread fingers, eager to feel her in every way possible. Vera came apart on his mouth with a shudder and a cry, drenching him in her pleasure. When Vihaan finally pulled off her, she slumped to her knees, her body held against his.
“I need you,” he rasped, rolling her under him, grinding into her as her knees fell open to naturally accommodate him between her legs.
“Yes, whatever you want.” Her mind was so drunk on him, she would’ve agreed to just about anything if that meant he’d keep touching her.
“Condom?”
“I don’t care. I want you in me, now!” she demanded, wiggling until she was settled atop the blanket he’d brought for her. Vihaan didn’t need to be convinced. His mouth crashed against hers, beckoning her in a kiss that felt like he was stealing air from her lungs. And just as quickly, he drew away, his hold gentling, his lips tracing every dip and curve with a control that had her squirming in desperation.
Vera felt delirious, her entire being thrumming to a tune that Vihaan had set. With featherlight touches and gossamer kisses, he was waking her body up from a decades long slumber. He wasn’t simply fucking her—he was making love to her. And it was unbearable.
She felt him everywhere—over her, around her, within her. To go from having had layers of armour to shield her from feeling anything at all to being sucked into an inescapable whirlpool of emotion was overwhelming. Like being on a zipline with a 300-foot drop over a ravine that no one had warned her about.
Her survival instinct kicked in, and she clenched her eyes shut, trying to calm her heart from punching its way out of her chest. There was no reason to panic. It was just sex.
It’s just sex. That’s all, her brain tried to pacify itself, to find a way to harness the turbulence within her.
As if in response, she felt his body rear over her.
“Open your eyes and look at me,” he ordered, his fingers sliding into her scalp and tightening just enough to hold her head in place.
Dazed eyes met his, confused when she saw fear and despair in him, replaced almost immediately by determination. His jaw tightened as he rubbed his erection along her slit, mixing his pre-cum with her wetness as he positioned himself between her legs. Slowly, with deliberation, he slipped into her, keeping her pinned so she couldn’t tilt her hips up to have him sink into her faster. Inch-by-inch, he rocked against her till he was seated fully within her snug channel, nary a sliver of space remaining between them.
“Does this feel like ‘just sex’ to you?” he asked, surprising her thoroughly. “You can try to keep me out of your heart, Princess, but I will never quit trying to breach your walls.” When he thrust into her again, it was with a surety that ripped through her and obliterated her capacity to hold back from submitting to him.
“Please, Vihaan, faster,” she begged hoarsely, running her hands down his back, her fingers digging into hard muscle as he moved within her. He pulled back, lacing his fingers with hers and drawing them up, on either side of her head. With her arms locked, the back of her hands pressing into the earth, she felt his glorious weight settle upon her, their bellies kissing each other as he surged forward, pounding her into the cool grass below.
“My wife. My Vera,” he breathed, as if reassuring himself, the possessiveness in his tone making her cling to him harder as he followed his words with yet another brutal thrust, stretching her pussy around him. His mouth landed on her neck, nibbling up to draw one soft earlobe between his teeth. “Do you want me to fill you up or pull out?”
“Inside,” she whispered, greedily exploring the flex of his muscles before squeezing his firm ass.
“That’s my good wife,” he growled, moving within her. “Every day, you’ll know what it is to be mine, screaming my name when you come around my cock, feeling me inside you for hours after I’m done.”
His lips left a trail of fire along her jaw as he whispered a world of sweet and filthy things, knowing how her body reacted to it. He leaned down and latched onto a ruched nipple, suckling her with a hunger that had her arching her back, every little tug making her gasp and clench around his girth.
Vera gave herself wholly to Vihaan, his body gliding over hers in a cadence so sweet, it had her legs shaking as she wrapped them around his hips. Pleasure flooded every last nerve as she fell apart under him, sobbing his name into his shoulder. Her orgasm plunged Vihaan into his, surrounding him in her essence until he spilled himself within her in hot, thick ropes .
Vera had no desire to fight the surge of belonging she experienced as her husband rolled over on his back, taking her with him. He drew her into his chest without pulling out from her. She could feel their combined release trickle out, but there was no shame or embarrassment in this moment. Rough fingers slipped under her chin, tipping her face up towards his. With a reverent brush of his lips against hers, he murmured, “I love you. Till my dying breath, I will love you.”
There, with the moonlight highlighting every emotion on their faces, the cool night air washing over their heated bodies, Vera lay in the protective cocoon of Vihaan’s arms, responding with the only three words she could muster.
“I believe you.”