Chapter 19
19
T he big day of Mona and Dom’s anniversary celebration dawned bright and sunny. DP and Chaaru barely had any time to themselves in the morning, late as they were waking up.
It had been close to dawn when they’d returned to their suite, both of them completely buzzed.
DP had a vague memory of Chaaru helping him undress, and herding him to the bathroom. Exhausted, they’d tumbled into the bed together, hands clasped. Neither could bear to let go of that minimal contact, he remembered thinking, sinking into the soft mattress.
Not that sharing the bed had remained purely romantic. But it had been real in a way DP had never known. The warmth of her body against his, their breaths syncing, she filled the void he had known most of his life.
They’d fought over the duvet—she kept kicking it off while DP’s feet turned ice cold. Bumped into each other outside the bathroom later. She’d given him a close-mouthed kiss because he’d been a good boy and remembered to put the seat down. And, in the morning, they’d fought over how her habit of spreading her stuff untidily, all the way to his sink, resulted in her misplacing her ear studs.
The awkwardness he’d dreaded after the poem and everything it revealed hadn’t materialized. He’d wanted, needed, her to see herself through his words. Especially the soft-hearted innocent she’d been once and how bright she had made his world.
He was glad he’d given her the last piece of his truth. Glad that his love for her would always be a part of her heart, whether she wanted him beyond this week or not.
He was no Zen guru to think heartbreak wouldn’t hurt or that this week hadn’t already irrevocably changed him. It had, but he’d never imagined he’d have these few days with her. And he’d been through enough loss in life to recognize the bounty he’d been granted.
* * *
When he returned to the suite around three that afternoon, everything was dark and quiet. The soft, droning tones of the white noise Chaaru played on her phone to fall asleep, greeted his ears. Instantly, his muscles tightened, anticipating the simple pleasure of climbing into bed and gathering her to him.
After living alone all his adult life, and never sharing this kind of intimacy with a partner, all her little quirks should have felt strange, even jarring. Yet in only a week’s time, he was used to the color and sounds she brought to his world.
White noise meant she was trying to sleep.
Loud pop music meant she was cleaning or getting ready.
Soft meditative instrumental music meant she was getting her stretches in or relaxing with a cup of coffee.
He walked past the small sitting lounge to the open bedroom door. Slowly, hoping the door didn’t whine, he slid into the room. With the drapes closed to block out the strong midday sun, the room was cozy and cool. But not so dark that he couldn’t see her on the bed.
With the white down comforter pushed off, her torso clad in sheer red lace was an enticing contrast. Hair spread out like a halo, a slight sheen of sweat coated her upper lip. Fighting the urge to lick it off, he moved on light feet and turned up the AC. Running a hand over the hair standing erect on his forearm, he went into the bathroom and closed the door.
Lotion bottles, lipstick tubes, hair brushes, scrunchies and a box of tissues lay scattered across the marble sink area. Like little soldiers advancing into war, intent on taking over his side too.
A folded note caught his attention. Anticipation strummed through him as he grabbed it with shaking fingers.
‘Wake me up with your cock
Miss the beast already.
Only a little more than you.’
Laughter bubbled up his chest. He’d missed her all morning too. Only catching glimpses of her here and there as she and the rest of the women piled into Mona’s suite to help her get ready for the ceremony that was about to start in two hours.
Two hours...and he couldn’t waste a single moment.
Palming his rough cheek, he took his shaving kit out. The razor fell to the marble floor with a rattle that had nothing on his breath rushing through his ears. If he shaved in this state, he’d probably cut himself. From under the sink, he pulled out the small cardboard bag from the adult store and unpacked a couple of things.
He stripped, went through his two-minute shower routine, liberally applied cream all over, put on fresh boxers and went back to the bedroom. To find that Chaaru had kicked off the sheets a little more. Just enough for him to see the big, red, glittering plastic bow she’d tacked on top of her red panties. Lust pummeled him, and he felt as shaky as a virgin teenager wondering where to start.
She was a gift waiting to be unwrapped, his gift, and he was going to lose himself in every fold and curve.
He slid into the bed and scooted towards her. Hands above her, knees to the side, she slept with an innocence and fragility she didn’t let anyone else see.
Propping himself up on his elbow, he leaned forward and skimmed his mouth along her bare arm. She was like silk he wanted to drape all over himself.
Grabbing the remote, he turned on the soft ceiling lights and they sprinkled a golden glow over her skin. The world was shut out and he had her all to himself.
Even his dreams hadn’t been this good. The texture of the soft comforter against his damp skin, the scent of jasmine in his nostrils, the relentless whir of the air-conditioning unit, and Chaaru laid out like a feast, he felt stimulated on every level.
Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to her temple and whispered her name, urging her to wake up. He trailed a path down her body, nuzzling every inch he uncovered. The round raised patch of skin on her upper arm, which he knew was from a vaccination shot in India. The uneven skin color on the side of her neck where she thought she had age-lines. The smooth valley between her breasts.
For now, he denied the invitation of her plump nipples standing erect beneath the flimsy lace. Under one breast, to his delight, he found a tiny tattoo of a bird in mid-flight. Then the thick curve of her belly. The scar from giving birth.
With every kiss, he told her in half-swallowed words how much he adored her. When he dragged his mouth against the fold where her hip met thigh, she writhed on the sheets. He arranged himself between her thighs like a devotee kneeling at the altar of some forgotten goddess.
Pulling her knee open, he kissed her inner thigh, where her skin was darker, and the musky scent of her stronger. He breathed in deep and long. Smiling, he pulled the bow off her panties and threw it aside. They were sheer, giving him a delectable view of her pussy lips.
Her eyelids fluttered as he rolled the fabric down and played with the strip of hair at the top.
Sleep mussed brown eyes met his. Her fingers sank into his hair. “You like your gift?”
“Can’t talk right now, sweetheart,” he said, letting her flesh absorb the vibrations from his words. Bending down, he notched his nose at the strip and skimmed down, until her clit popped from under the hood. His cock turned rock-hard in his boxers, attempting to shove through the thin fabric as if it had a life of its own.
Chaaru’s spine arced off the bed, tits thrusting up, hands bunching the sheets.
Opening her nether lips, he nosed down to her slit and licked the moisture gathering there. She was ambrosia on his tongue. Licking and laving, he fucked her with his tongue.
A rough tug at his hair made him look up. Holding his gaze, she unhooked the bra and threw it aside. She cupped her breasts, pinching the nipples between her fingers. His mouth watered, but he refused to stop. He licked a long line from slit to clit, making a humming noise in his throat.
“Oh fuck,” she whispered in that half-sleepy, half-husky voice that slithered down his spine like an ice cube.
He laughed, and she writhed again. A pink-toed foot came to rest on his shoulder. Distracted, he kissed the arch and then her ankle. He nipped at her inner thigh, not gently, and a hiss escaped her lips.
Then, he put the clit buzzer on his forefinger and pushed it down against the proud bundle of flesh. A keening moan erupted from her mouth, the erotic sound twisting him up. Then, keeping his finger on the spot, he fucked her with his tongue.
Her thighs clamped his head like a vise, and she came with a soft, serrated scream.
“I think I almost blacked out,” she said, dislodging his head from between her thighs.
DP wiped his lips and chin and pressed a kiss to her belly. Every inch of her glistened with dewy sweat. “I’ll never get over how good you taste,” he said, kneading her hip with a tenderness that overtook him in these moments with her.
A streak of dark red claimed her cheeks, and he laughed. Kissing his way up, he forced her to lie back down. When he reached her breasts, he cupped them and gave her nipples a tight, hard pinch.
She bucked off the bed. “God, you do that perfectly, DP. How?”
“What kind of lover would I be if I didn’t give it to you exactly that way?” he said, licking a circle around one jutting nipple.
She moaned and pushed herself against his mouth. He rubbed his bristle against the nipple and when she began pleading and cursing and begging, he closed his mouth over it. Suckling hard, he pressed his tongue against it. Her hands came to his hair, and she pulled him to her other breast, and he laughed.
“Inside me, DP. I’ve waited so long...”
“Grab the condoms from the drawer,” he said, his entire body aching.
“I…” Chaaru said, her eyes wide in her flushed face.
“Nothing is wrong between us, baby,” he said, sinking close and taking her mouth in a soft kiss. She tasted like mint and sleep and velvet dreams. When he stroked his tongue against hers, she moaned, her fingers digging into his shoulders. “Tell me, Char.”
“I get tested regularly. I have the report in my email if you want to see.”
He frowned. “Same here. Although it’s been a few months. But I haven’t been with anyone since.”
“I trust you. Do you trust me?” she said, rubbing her cheek against his.
“Of course I do,” he said, not getting her point.
“I have been on the pill too for a couple of years. Ever since I became sexually active again. I know you’ve had a vasectomy years ago, right?”
His brow cleared, but he only said, “Yes?” He wanted to hear her say it, needed her to claim this.
Her gaze searched his, her nostrils flaring. “Fuck me bare please. It’s all I’ve been thinking of for days now. I want to feel you so deep inside me that I never forget how it feels.”