12. Mihir
MIHIR
“ W ell…that was…” Sona tried, but words failed her.
My heart swelled as I kissed the top of her head and held her warm body. “First time?” I asked and felt uncharacteristically proud when she nodded.
“What are the chances we woke them up?” she asked, heaving, as she looked at the door.
“We’ll know soon enough if anyone comes knocking or screaming.”
But no one did.
I grabbed towels from the linen drawer and dropped one on the floor. Her fingers ran through my hair as I wiped her clean with the other. When I stood to face her, she watched me with a sly smile on her lips and a naughty glimmer in her eye.
“Your turn, Sona. Take what you want,” I said and flung the towel away.
She bit her lip and clutched my shirt. When I pulled it off, her mouth dropped open at the sight of my waxed chest. Her eyes grew wide, her lips parting as she glided her fingers along it with the lightest touch.
“Do you like it?” I whispered, tracing a finger along her jaw. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”
She pushed me to the bed with a wicked grin. “I think you wax more parts of your body than I do.”
I laughed as I watched her tug at my waistband. When I raised my hips, she pulled down my pants and boxers in a single motion. Her eyes widened for a moment as she tossed the garments to a chair, eyeing me with the same hunger I’d felt a few minutes ago.
“You know what I want,” I said, nudging her.
She hesitated as her defiant gaze met mine. “No.”
“No?” I frowned at her tone.
She straddled me and leaned forward, her thick curls flowing down the sides of her face, covering us in a veil. I lay helpless beneath her, mesmerized by her full lips and long lashes.
“When you played with me, Mihir Seth,” she said in a soft voice, “I let you, didn’t I?”
I returned a reluctant nod.
“Right. Now it’s my turn. I get to decide how I want to enjoy your body. Plus, this is something you’ll have to earn.”
I was in trouble, and I loved it. I tried to lift her off, but she came down hard on my arms, holding them in place.
“Fifteen years of karate, three years of the National Cadet Corps of India, and I’m very strong. So don’t even try,” she warned.
I was so turned on, I thought I would come just watching her.
“So what do you say, Mihir Seth? Do you trust me?”
“Absolutely not! You’re deceptively strong.” I smiled and pulled myself up to kiss her.
I kissed her like I had never kissed any woman before, like I meant the kiss. This wasn’t foreplay. This was an admission of my feelings.
“I promise I’ll be gentle,” she cooed and kissed my chest.
Lifting my head, I watched her in the mirror. Her warm mouth traveled from my stomach to my pelvis, kissing, licking, teasing with gentle nibbles. Her hips flexed while mine sank into the mattress. She tickled at my thighs before moving on to the legs. Her slender fingers chased her luscious tongue, pulling me along helplessly. When they grazed against my cock, my hips jerked. She giggled, then stroked me gently.
“Turn over,” she whispered, and I obeyed. I felt like my body was sinking deeper into the mattress while I soared higher and higher, approaching nirvana, if there was one. I felt her warmth against my buttocks, her taut nipples on my back. I sighed as she kissed my shoulders and traced the lines with her tongue.
“I want to taste you too,” I said cheekily.
“Well, you had your turn, and you blew it on waterworks. Now you’ll have to wait.”
I chuckled and flipped over to my back. She was everything I’d never imagined.
When her eyes peered into mine, her smile disappeared. She dug her delicate fingers into my beard and brought her lips to mine, savoring them like they were covered in honey. A soft lick, a delicate suck, a tender bite. But when her warm tongue flirted with mine, her kiss became more urgent. Aggressive. Furious.
She looked up at me. “You are a gorgeous man,” she said, and my heart tumbled in a silly way. A strange warmth bloomed in my heart and spread through my body. My cock twitched as I pulled her down for another kiss. Placing a tapered finger on my lips, she added, “But I’ll deny ever saying it if you mention it to anyone.”
“Don’t worry.” I drew her closer and said, “What happens in this room, stays in this room.”
“Somehow I don’t doubt that,” she said and delicately pushed herself off my chest, then gripped my cock in her soft, supple hands. “And now I really can’t wait, Mihir,” she said and bit her bottom lip.
She didn’t need to ask me twice. I was ready for her, and I knew she felt it in the palm of her hand. Just the thought of entering her was threatening to make me dizzy. The way my name danced on her lips, I almost forgot this was supposed to be a dalliance. But nothing about Sona felt temporary, and I knew I had dug myself into a deep hole.
“I hope to god you have a condom.” The urgency in her voice broke my thought.
I grinned. I was nothing if not well-prepared for every eventuality, and this was something I had actually hoped for. Retrieving a packet from a drawer of the bedside table, I handed it to her. It was clear who was in charge of this play.
Riling me up further with alternating firm and gentle strokes, she rolled down the condom. I watched her straddle me, preparing myself for the onslaught of euphoria as she guided me into her.
I groaned. She gasped.
Disconnecting myself momentarily from the heady feeling of her gripping me tight, I lifted my head and asked, “Are you okay?”
She threw her head back and nodded. “ So okay.”
With her hips gyrating against me, she bit the corner of her lower lip and turned her face sideways to watch us in the mirror. Beneath her, I allowed myself to be drowned by her heat, inside and out. I gazed into the mirrors to my left, but I wanted more. I wanted to watch her and her image.
“I see your point now. I do miss the mirrors on the ceiling,” I said.
Her eyes, drunk with passion, returned to my face. Her hands rested on my chest as she grazed against me and arched her back. She stopped moving when our eyes met and climbed off.
“What happened?”
“We can’t have you missing out on this,” she said and propped herself to her haunches, then pushed her back into a tabletop. “Can you see us now?”
As I jumped off the bed, she greeted me with hoisted hips, and purred like a kitten when I thrust into her.
My eyes drew along the length of her naked torso and toward the mirror where I was treated to the glory of her naked body. The gentle sway of her breasts as I pumped into her, her smile, at once shy and desirous, urging me on, the toned arms that bent erotically to my rhythm. Her strong shoulders rolled with me, the curls tossing over them as we moved. When her bottom lip disappeared between her teeth, I squeezed her ass and pushed so deep, a yelp escaped her lips.
“More,” she cried hoarsely. “Please!”
With a light spanking, I obliged, and she locked her eyes with mine. The harder I tried to break her spell, the darker her gaze burned. When it looked like she could take it no more, she brought her hand to her breast and grabbed it. Her back arched again, and she began to collapse on the bed.
I pulled her against my body, gripping an arm around her waist. She retracted her right leg from under her to plant her foot on the bed, and I brought my hand to her swollen clit. It was so ripe, so ready, she cried out when my finger landed on it. With the other hand, I kneaded the tender flesh of her breast. The mirror that never lies told me I had left quite a few marks on them, and she was probably going to be sore tomorrow. The sight of those marks awakened something animalistic in me, something primal. She was mine, my body roared triumphantly, and she read it on my face. She brought her hands around to my butt and raked her nails across my cheeks, marking her territory, laying claim to my body. The touch of her eyes on me felt as real as the sizzle of her nails grazing across my hips.
Keep going, her nod said, as I felt a slight tremor in her thighs. The first sign of her orgasm, and my heart swelled with pride that I knew this about her.
When a gentle tremble rode up her thighs to her stomach, she inhaled once and went stiff in my arms. I held my cock firmly inside her as I rubbed her clit tighter and faster. Her face was hot against my cheek as she held on to me with clenched eyes. Her nails dug deeper into my hips.
“Come, Sona. Come all over me,” I said, and she spasmed. Her insides clutched me tight, sucking me in while she tried to stifle her cries.
“Don’t hold back. Let me hear you scream,” I urged and heard her shriek again. Her pretty little shriek that was only for me.
That night, we explored every part of the room, every angle of the mirrors, before I begged her to grant me my release.
“How do you want it?” she asked, weary and panting.
“Inside you,” I rasped, and she nodded.
With her right leg propped up in my left arm, I clutched her soft curls with the other. She cupped my face and kissed my forehead as I bent into her. Words of encouragement gushed from her lips, spelling out how much she was enjoying this.
“Come inside me, Mihir. I want to feel you,” she said, running her fingers through my hair and fisting it gently.
Even without her sweet voice, I was a goner. With her words rustling against my skin, I was ruined. I groaned almost too loudly as I came and felt her tighten around me again.
“Shit!” I grabbed her as we fell back on the bed.
She curled up beside me. When I pulled her closer, she placed a hand on my chest, and I covered it with mine. But almost instantly, she retracted to step into the bathroom.
When she returned, her hair was tied up in a messy top bun, several lazy strands framing her face. Her skin glowed with a warm flush, the kind I was intimately familiar with, but it had never looked so ravishing.
“I should go back to my room,” she said.
I held out a hand for her. “Stay.”
She took my hand and climbed into the bed, pulling a plush comforter over us.
I turned to my side to face her. I couldn’t get over the glow on her face. I had done that. I was responsible for the rush of blood that radiated from every part of her body. Without another word, I pulled her in for a kiss. Her delicious warmth greeted me again, and I tasted the slight sweetness of the mouthwash she had just used. My mouthwash. My gentle kiss instantly turned feral, and she let out a moan. Her soft, plump lips melted in my mouth as she slid her leg between my thighs. Her hand came around my nape as she tugged at my lower lip, lapping it up with soft sighs and a gentle arching of her body. She was enjoying this as much as I was, and it brought me a strange reassurance.
When we were left exhausted again, we lay on our backs, gazing at the mirror-less ceiling.
“Mihir, that was so hot!” I heard her soft voice.
I threw her a quick glance and caught her fading smile, which instantly changed to a mischievous one.
She flipped to her side to face me. “You must thank Grant for me. This is the hardest I’ve come, and I mean it with all the glorious pun intended,” she teased.
“I’ll be sure to pass on your gratitude, but it doesn’t bode well for me if his was the first name that came to your mind after this.”
She giggled giddily. “Is he good-looking?”
I frowned. “You literally just finished fucking me. Are you looking for another playmate already?”
“Hey, I’m a busy single woman. I need to know where my next big orgasm is coming from. And judging by this room, I bet he knows how to give toe-curling ones.”
My heart pinched in a ridiculous way. Of course, she could fuck who she wanted. Why did it bother me that she was lusting after my best friend?
“Grant’s not your type,” I said only half-jokingly. Grant was a real bastard, but then, so was I.
“Oh yeah? What’s my type?”
“Someone who’d be content lying naked in your arms.” I stretched my arm for her, and she snuggled closer, her head resting on it.
“For a bit, at least,” she said with an uncomfortable laugh.
I knew exactly what she meant. My reputation definitely preceded me.
“Sameer was convinced you’d never make the first move,” I gloated.
“Yeah, I can be unpredictable that way,” she said. “But while on that subject, no one can know about this,” she added, looking up at my face.
“Well, I’m not one to shout it from the rooftops.”
“Thank you,” she said with every bit of sincerity. “Tara would judge me for sure if she knew. I’d never hear the end of it.”
“Wait,” I said, shifting on my pillow to look at her. “Are you ashamed?”
“What? No, I’m not ashamed,” she blurted a little too eagerly. Then, rather belatedly, cried, “Ashamed of what?”
“Sona, are you ashamed of having fucked me?” She didn’t answer. “Sona Thomas, I need an answer.”
She sighed. “No, I’m not ashamed of that.”
“I’m waiting,” I said.
“Ugh.” She resigned and moved away from my grip. “I’m ashamed I want it again. I want more.”
A grin appeared on my face of its own accord. “That’s nothing to be ashamed of. I think we can manage more— much more.” I winked.
“Stop it.” She hit my chest gently. “You know what I’m saying.”
“I really don’t,” I confessed. “Why is it wrong to want more?”
She sat up and ran a hand over her forehead. “Because when I came over, I was determined not to let myself be lured by this fire. Once and done, that’s what I had convinced myself.”
“What’s the way out, then?” I asked, intrigued by the conflict between her body and brain.
“If I knew, I wouldn’t be sitting here, spelling it out to you,” she grumbled.
“May I suggest one?”
She nodded.
“Don’t think.”
“ Don’t think? That’s your solution?”
“Don’t think too much . Is that better?” I sat up and held her hands. “Let’s live in the moment. Enjoy it while both of us are in it.”
She blinked in thought, then returned a slow, tentative nod. “And as long as we keep it quiet, I think we can still go back to being friends without it being awkward around Sameer and Tara,” she offered softly.
“Come on, Sona. We’re too old to feel awkward about such things, aren’t we?”
She frowned. “Who are you calling old, mister?”
I laughed from my belly and my heart. She was what had been missing in my life. “Hey, old is not a bad thing. Getting to be old is a privilege,” I argued, thinking of my aging parents and feeling grateful for them.
“True,” she observed with a smile.
I wrapped my arm around her and pulled her back to the bed.
“I like this,” she whispered against my chest. “It’s just what I need in my life right now.”
“What’s that?”
“Great sex with the hottest guy I’ve ever met without having to worry about emotional complications and tags. Without having to worry where we are headed or if it’s going to last. We both know it’s not. It’s the best thing ever.”
My heart dipped at her words, although she wasn’t wrong. She had accurately described my approach to relationships. But I had never been on the tipping end of this equilibrium. I was the one who deflected emotion and relationship tags. I was always the one who got out unaffected. And now the only woman with whom I did not mind considering emotional attachments was seemingly giving me the brush-off. But I suspected she felt more than she was letting on. Perhaps in an effort to avoid getting her own heart broken? The idea intrigued me.
“Was this the fire you wanted to stay away from?” I inquired, trying to test my theory.
“Yes, but boy, I’m engulfed in it now. Don’t you let this go to your head, though, playboy.”
I returned a haughty grin, but the wheels in my head were spinning already. It could’ve been the result of years of Mom’s reverse psychology, as I’d claimed while growing up, but Sona’s resistance about us was giving me dangerous ideas. Ideas of a life with Sona.
My memories of childhood stood in sharp contrast to other kids of my age with immigrant parents. I had often felt out of place among my Indian-American peers. I was never reprimanded. Nothing was ever imposed on me. When I had made a mistake or misbehaved, my parents would sit me down and explain why what I did was wrong. They would ask me the reason for my errant behavior so they could learn and become better parents. I was never compared to anyone else. There was no tunnel vision about the greatness of India and its superiority over American culture, or vice versa. Those instances that seemed to have made the golden careers of most second-gen stand-up comics in the West were conspicuously absent from my life.
Where other kids were being forced to learn and speak their native languages at home, my parents were happily conversing with me in English. In fact, when I suspected them of using Hindi as their secret language to talk privately in my presence, I learned the language. At Harvard, I took electives to familiarize myself with the Devanagari script, so now I could both read and write a little. I wholeheartedly immersed myself in Indian cultural forms wherever I found them. I was part of a Bhangra team participating in inter-collegiate competitions. I learned the basics of cricket from Indian students and cheered on the national team during a particular World Cup. Since they had left me with little opportunity to rebel, embracing my Indianness with gusto was my ultimate rebellion against my parents.
I had suspected Mom of playing the long game, keeping me away from the things she had actually wanted me to do. As a teacher well-versed in child psychology, she’d been smart enough to do it without causing damage to my psyche or self-esteem. Or maybe she’d understood how headstrong and stubborn I was. All I knew for sure was that Mom played a stellar game.
For here I was, reconsidering my long-held beliefs about the farce that was monogamy to dream about a life with the woman in my arms. The more Sona rejected the idea of a happy-ever-after for us, the more it seemed to appeal to me. That she got along so well with the people in my life seemed to further bolster my conviction.
The question was, how could I convince Sona that I could be trusted with her heart?
I looked at her face stretched up toward me, her eyes closed in early slumber, the slight smile gradually disappearing from her lips. I pulled her soft body into mine and kissed her forehead. I could see myself waking up to that sweet face every day. She was the most extraordinary woman I had ever met, and when I looked at her, I found something new to admire, not in the least the smart brain underneath that gorgeous head of curls. She was sexy, brilliant, and exciting—something I had waited for all my life.
After all, I knew a gem when I spotted one.