Chapter 47 #2
Her eyes opened and she raised her body up on her elbows. “What? People are listening?”
He nodded. “This region, however remote it may be, is very protective of women and their rights. If you had expressed the slightest objection to what was happening tonight, they would be here to rescue you.”
“You’re kidding.” She could not believe her ears.
He shook his head. “There is a group of older women whose job is to ensure the girl is safe, not just the ones born in the region but every one of them. Marriage is sacred but happiness is what keeps the sanctity of the rituals and they would not force any woman into marriage.”
She looked at him for a long moment, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “I’m so tempted to test your theory but the foot massage is wicked. I can’t risk the interruption.”
He laughed. “You will have twenty-one days to test the theory.”
“What?” She was confused.
“Yes. We will be watched for the next few weeks, making sure we are both compatible in every way before they let us go back to live together.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Like what?”
“You’ll see.” He reached for another towel and dipped it in the warm water before wrapping it around her other foot.
“Will I get a foot massage every night for the twenty-one days?”
“Maybe if you are nice to your husband.” He let out a laugh and that made a strange wave of excitement pass through her.
“Sure. My unwanted husband.” She giggled.
A moment of silence later. “My beautiful wife,” he chuckled, his eyes dark.
His words made heat creep up to her cheeks as she straightened her back to sit up, her eyes locked with his. Moments passed and neither of them averted their eyes. Her chest was heaving heavily and she saw him draw in a slow and deep breath like he was having difficulty breathing.
Moments they had both fought and given in but still resisted. But in that split second, she wanted it all. The handsome bare-chested man in traditional clothes, his eyes deep with admiration and desire.
Like he read her mind, he pulled his hands away from her feet. “I’ll be right back.” He walked to the bathroom with a bowl of hot water.
She knew it was his way of creating distance. Like he didn’t want to do anything with her or wouldn’t dare touch her while all it took was a foot massage for her to peak and feel the release the prior night, like never before.
But she could not have what her mind and body craved so desperately and yet had to endure this suffocating and sinking feeling that she could not let loose her desires.
It angered her that neither of them could move forward in spite of being adults and knowing what is right for them.
It was too much risk but that just made her feel weak, like she had lost all control of her life, again.
When that thought hit, panic struck her. Her breathing became shallow, panic rising in her chest.
“Ashok,” she gasped, her hands clawing at the soft fabric of the t-shirt.
He was by her side in a split second. “Isha?”
“Ashok, I can’t…I can’t breathe.” She was suffocating physically.
Without hesitation, he moved closer, his hands gentle as he held her hands. “Hey, look at me,” he said softly. “Slow breaths.”
The calm and kindness in his voice made her cry, and she found herself leaning into his steady presence, finally allowing herself to break down completely. She had no idea why she had the urge to cry.
She let out a loud sob, unable to suppress her overwhelming emotions. The strongest one being the want.
“Isha,” he hushed her softly as he wrapped his arms around her, sitting next to her on the bed.
But she couldn’t stop. The sobs came harder, her whole body shook as if years of suppressed anger poured out of her.
“This isn’t my life,” she choked out between gasps. “This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.” She had lived her life as per her rules and choices. It felt like everything had fallen apart at that moment.
“I know,” he said, and there was depth in his voice that made her look up at him through her tears. “It’s not your fault.”
His hands framed her face, his thumbs gently sliding away her tears off her cheeks. The tenderness in the gesture broke something inside her, and she leaned into his touch without thinking.
His jaw tightened, and for a moment she saw something flash across his features. “If it’s going to make you feel better, you can blame me for everything.”
The space between them seemed to shrink. She was acutely aware of how close she was to him, how his hands were still cupping her face, his dark eyes were looking at her like she was something precious rather than it being a part of an arrangement.
“What are we doing?” she gasped.
“I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice rough.
There were no other thoughts in her mind. There is just one thing she needed and she was done denying herself. “I want you.”
She felt his steel wall of resolve crumble as she pressed her lips to his, and she was overwhelmed by the intensity of his response. What started as a desperate need for clarification exploded into something that seemed to be consuming them both completely.
His hands tangled in her hair, tugging on it as he kissed her back with a hunger that matched her own. All the careful distance they’d maintained, all the polite formality of their arrangement, the shuttered feelings even after sharing moments of passion, all shattered in that moment.
“Isha,” he breathed against her lips like it was her last chance to say no as his hands were already reaching for the hem of the t-shirt she had on, his touch reverent as he freed her from the barrier.
“I want you,” she whispered back, her fingers running over his bare chest, the feel of his dark hair against her palms. “I don’t care about anything.”
She was overwhelmed by how right the moment felt.
It had nothing to do with the marriage, not the arrangement, but the connection she felt between them that had nothing to do with legal documents or family expectations.
It was raw, raging and real in a way that nothing else in her life had been for years.
When he pulled back to look at her, his eyes were dark with something that went deeper than desire.
“Isha,” he said, his voice strained. She could see the conflict in his expression. He was battling the want, his pragmatic side warring with emotion. But she could also see something else there, something that looked dangerously dark.
Sheer attraction and deep desire.
“I want you,” she repeated, like she wanted him to know how badly she wanted him.
He let out a groan, burying his face into her neck as if admitting to the same.
Their admission hung between them, terrifying yet absolutely true and clear.
“So do I,” he groaned against the skin on her neck.
He pulled back to look at her and she watched as he surrendered to the moment, followed by a spark in his eyes that made her heart race.
When he kissed her again, it felt different.
Scary and exciting at the same time as if she was standing at the edge of a cliff, knowing she would fall off anytime and with no going back.
It wasn’t the desperate collision of moments like before.
He was being deliberate, intense, a claim in his touch made her toes curl and her heart race for entirely different reasons.
His mouth moved against hers with a dominance that hadn’t been there before, like he’d finally stopped fighting what he wanted and that he wanted it all.
Her hands fisted in his hair, pulling him closer as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against hers in a way that made her gasp.
The sound seemed to undo something in him, because suddenly his hands were everywhere.
He traced the curve of her waist, skimming along her bare arms, threading through her hair with a possessiveness that made her pulse spike.
He pulled away like he knew she needed air, burying his face into the side of her neck.
“Ashok,” she called out desperately like she could not wait anymore as he lay a trail of kisses, sucking on her skin like he could not get enough of her taste.
“I can’t wait anymore,” she whispered a plea and felt the slight tremor in his hands as they traced her skin, the way his breathing had become uneven.
He pulled back just enough to look at her, his eyes dark and intense. “There is no stopping now.”
She reached up to cup his face, her thumb tracing the sharp line of his jaw. “I want you,” she ordered.
The demand and honesty in her voice seemed to shatter his last bit of restraint and doubt. He reached for the t-shirt she had on and pulled it over her head. The hunger in his eyes as he took in her bare chest set off something dark inside her.
She liked the way he looked at her, drinking in the curves with his eyes and molding them with his hands. And then when he landed his mouth on her bare nipple, she threw her head back, her loose hair swinging wildly as he suckled on her skin like he could not get enough of her.
She hugged his head to her chest as they both knelt on the bed, eager for each other. She squirmed with need every time he pulled away to suck in another bite of her flesh. “I can’t…”
He froze for a moment and she knew why.
“I can’t wait anymore. I want you now.” She could not be any more deliberate.
He ran his fingers into her thick hair, her chest crushing against his as he pulled her into another scorching kiss. The intensity made her head spin, making her forget everything except the feel of his mouth on hers, the way his hands were making her skin burn with undying need.
She let out a gasp when her back hit the mattress followed by his crushing weight. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, opening up to him as his lips devoured hers. She moaned into his mouth when she felt him get off her without breaking the kiss.
She held on to him, her arms wrapped around his neck as he supported his body on one elbow. His other hand found her panties and moments later it was gone. There was so much desperation in the moment, the roughness in his touch only made it that much more pleasurable.
She gasped loudly, her mouth pulling away from his as he entered in one strong drive making her hit her peak.
“Ashok,” she cried aloud, tightening her grip on him. She had never had such a release so fast and when he started building a rhythm, every drive was a delectable peak. He buried his face into her neck and let out a groan before stiffening.
She felt him explode inside her and that made her reel with a new level of pleasure. She ran her palm on his back as they both caught their breath, enjoying the feel of his slick skin. He slid off her, pulling her to him.
They were both fighting the same battle for way too long and now that they had given into their needs left them with no words.
“Good night,” she whispered, closing her eyes, unsure of what to say. There was nothing to say.
“Good night,” he replied, though she could hear a different emotion in his voice.
She knew not to prolong the conversation. There was no need to talk about anything.
As the oil lamps burned lower and the night sounds of the island settled around them, they lay next to each other naked, both of them hyperaware of every breath, every moment when one of them might say or do something.
But it was only the ocean that whispered against the shore, and somewhere in the distance, night birds called to each other across the water. But for her, the future was unsure and the morning seemed daunting.
As she started to finally doze off, she felt him move, pulling the sheets over their exhausted bodies as they lay next to each other, but not fully satiated. They had somewhere reasoned that moment of passionate explosion as a one-time thing had only seemed to have fueled their need even more.
Great! But she only wanted more.