Chapter 40 #2
“Second floor,” he said. “Flat number 6.”
Amaal was out of the car and bounding into the building and up the stairs.
It had been close to five years since she had last been here.
She noticed the inside was still the same, the wood banister a little more worn, a few steps chipped here and there.
But the stairs were just as shiny clean as before, the homes looking just as homely as when she had first come here to look for a rental space.
She reached the door of her old flat just in time for him to turn the last stair.
“Quick, quick!”
Samar inserted the key into the screen door and turned the lock. He began to search for the second main door key in the keyring but she took it from his hands and inserted the correct one. She could do it blind.
“I am so excited you are shifting here!” She pushed open the door and breathed in the smell of stale home. Closed rooms. Spider webs. Dust. The possibility of everything.
“I love this smell.”
“You must be crazy to like a smell that makes most people sneeze,” he scoffed behind her, closing the door as she went on flipping light switches.
The paint in the house was different now.
It had been blinding white when she had lived here, now it was a warm beige.
The lights were updated, too, from panel lights to fancy, warm COBs.
“What did the owner do to this flat?!” She gawked, running her hand over the velvety finished wall.
“They also doubled the rent.” Samar pushed the lone chair aside, its legs scraping against the floor as they entered the hall.
“Of course they would. They have done interior work, Nehru Nagar has become even more premium and there is this party called KDP that came in power a couple of years ago and changed the entire trajectory of real estate in the city… owww!” She shrieked as the lights went out and a hand pressed her back into his chest.
“Samar.” She huffed, trying to catch her breath.
“You like it?” He asked.
“Love it. You haven’t seen the best part of this house though…
” She pulled him towards the windows, navigating the bare hall in the low lighting from outside, and was bummed to find that some buildings had come up to block a smidge of the view.
But the mountains were still as tall and as grand in the distance. “Ta-da!” She held an arm out.
Tiny lights winked in the distance, flats too far away to be fully visible.
His mouth dipped into her neck and his hand traced up her arm. Amaal’s head fell back into his shoulder, eyes closing. The world went darker with bright points of lights sparkling behind them.
“We are standing on a window.” She managed through laboured breaths.
“In pitch dark.” His dark voice broke through her darkness.
Before she could respond, he snapped her around and slammed his mouth down on hers.
She inhaled him, all of him — his tongue, his taste, his darkness.
He suckled her mouth and let her go. Amaal opened her eyes, feeling his presence on her lips long after he had left them.
She scraped her hands up his shoulders, up his neck, up his stubbled cheeks, hitting the ends of his specs.
“Take them off.”
She swallowed, pulling them off. Their eyes met without any barrier.
“Kiss me.”
Amaal rose on her tiptoes and pushed her tongue through his mouth, letting him inhale her whole this time, her legs wrapping around his waist instantly. He held her like she weighed nothing, slamming her back to the glass window.
“Samar!” She tore off from his mouth. “This is…” she turned to look down but her jaw was gripped in firm fingers. He wrenched her face back to his and dark eyes were the only part visible on that face.
“Trust me?”
She could do nothing but nod, whatever little she could.
“Then quiet.”
Her legs wrapped tighter around him even as she clenched.
“Hold onto my shoulders.” He commanded, opening his mouth and swallowing her jaw. Amaal felt that deep, deep inside her. What was this pleasure? What was he doing without doing anything to her?
“Amaal.”
“Hmm?”
His chin tipped to her hands tied loosely around him. She tightened them, clasping them in his hair.
No sooner had she gripped him than he thrust up.
“Ohhh!” She began to double over, but he held her steady.
His face dipped into her breasts and his hips moved, making hers move with him, making the glass behind her rattle.
She screamed as he took her off from it, whirled, and slammed his own back to a wall.
This time she was in the air, with only his hands to support, and Amaal did not care.
He went down on his knees on the dusty floor and she did not care, straddling him, thrusting to his rhythm, letting him push his tongue into her mouth.
It was raw, messy, without words. And then it was everything as she burst into stars in pitch dark.
“Oh… ohhh… aaaawww….” she fell forward on him. “Oh…” she lost all sense of thought.
When she came to, she found herself on the floor and between his legs, lying back on his chest. He was stroking her hair.
Amaal gaped at the darkness of the house.
Her old house. The smell of dank dust was heavy, dust motes invisible but there.
Never had she felt so satisfied in this house.
She continued to stare at this nothingness in silence.
No other thought. No other need. No other worries.
Only fingers in her hair.
Then she felt it. He was still hard behind her.
She began to turn but his arms came around her, trapping her in place.
“You didn’t co…”
“Hmm.”
“Samar…” she clawed at his neck, turning her head to kiss the space where his kurta opened up his throat. She scraped the place she had kissed and he hardened even more.
“Amaal,” he laughed, pulling his neck away from her.
“Why?”
“Later.”
“WHY?”
“I told you, you will be taking my commands.”
She stilled. Was it because he did not want her to see him?
But they hadn’t crossed lines till there.
They were still on the phone sex and dry humping stage.
Amaal rolled her eyes to meet his. They didn’t seem wary, or skeptical, or closed.
They were… satisfied. Even with the painful situation behind her. And as usual, he remained silent.
“Does the thought of me seeing you make you uncomfortable?”
He stared at her, contemplating.
“Be honest with me. It’s ok.”
His tongue came out to wet his lips. His eyes went far away.
“I was…” he stopped, blinking at the distant lights in the dark sky.
“I was never the popular boy. Not even interested like that. My focus was on getting my medical degree and posting. On off days, holidays, others went out to mess around with girls… I just stayed and did my reading. Then in SFF, for the first time, I was in a peer group where I mattered and they mattered to me. A whole new world opened to me. I was happier, more confident, ready to throw myself into life and all its possibilities. I discovered how good sex could be with a woman even if for one night. They were all willing ladies, just to clarify,” his eyes came to her.
Then stilled. “Should I stop talking about this part?”
She shook her head.
“This might sound hypocritical,” Samar stated. “But I do not ever want you to talk about your prior sexual experiences with me unless they were traumatic.”
Amaal smirked. And he chuckled. “I got my answer.”
“You were saying?” She poked.
“Hmm… Life was surprisingly good. Running a dispensary inside our camp, training drills with Atharva to add survival and fighting to my skills, going on missions as the platoon surgeon, returning, going out to celebrate and… you know.” He reddened slightly, even when he had commanded her only a minute ago and just given her a rundown about ‘willing ladies.’ Amaal smiled, planting her lips into his neck. He relaxed.
“Then, we were captured. They stripped me naked, laid me on a slab of ice and whipped me every way possible. The whip had needles, and they went everywhere.”
Her skin cooled.
“Everywhere.” He repeated.
“No…” she whispered, holding his neck. Scars was a broad term… the thought of this, it made her bones feel cold.
“For the first few months after I regained my senses and health, I couldn’t…” he swallowed. “You know.”
She nodded.
“I looked at myself and couldn’t even…” his eyes fell shut.
“That’s the first time I did it. Went to…
Adil suggested it for fun in Delhi. The red light areas.
And I just hooked onto it. I am ashamed of how needy I became.
And once things returned to normal functioning, I couldn’t stop.
Because they wouldn’t judge me, or pity me, or my appearance, or ask questions, or look at me any different… it was barter.”
Samar’s eyes met hers — “I am ashamed.”
“You don’t have to be.”
His expressions changed, the entirety of his face affected, shocked.
“With me, you don’t have to be ashamed of anything,” Amaal said.
He stilled, wetting his lips. Then he looked away again, his throat working a long swallow. Amaal leaned up and pressed her mouth to that place. And a heavy breath fell over her head.
“Thank you.” His low voice vibrated into her.
“I don’t know what my expression will be when I see you,” Amaal pulled back. “But know that it won’t mean anything close to pity. If anything, it would mean… skepticism.” She hesitated, moving over what she could feel was something too big to go anywhere near her.
A small, amused sound left his mouth. “Stroking my ego now?”
“I can stroke other things too. I have learnt it well.”
He fisted her hair — “I don’t want to know how you learnt it because when you stroke mine, you will unlearn everything and learn to only stroke mine.”
She tried to move her eyes from his, unable to bear that intensity. But her face was lifted and his lips were on hers. That kiss was so soft, so delicate, so unlike the man who had his fingers bunched in her hair.
“I love this.” Amaal smiled with eyes closed.