31 ~ Tempting Chahat
Kartik's POV.
The property was beautiful. It was warm, private and secluded enough that the storm raging outside felt like a distant memory.
But I wasn't looking at the property.
I was looking at her.
Chahat.
I couldn't take my eyes off her.
The rain had left her saree damp, the fabric resting against her figure and outlining her silhouette beneath it. A small portion of her waist remained visible, and every time she moved, my attention followed without permission.
She was standing near the window, her back to me, admiring the view.
The wet fabric clung to her body like a second skin, revealing every curve, every dip, every soft swell.
The droplets of rain were falling from her chin, trailing down her neck, disappearing into the neckline of her blouse. I watched each one, my eyes tracing their path, my breath catching in my throat.
I was aroused. Completely, utterly aroused. My body was aching for her in ways I couldn't control.
I pulled her closer.
She gasped as her body collided with mine. My shirt was wet, I could feel the heat of her through the thin saree, the softness of her curves pressed against me.
Her hands came up to my chest but she didn't push me away.
I cupped her cheeks.
My thumbs brushed across her lips, gentle and slow.
I leaned closer.
I could feel her breath on my lips. Could smell her perfume, mixed with the scent of rain. Could feel the warmth of her body, the rapid beat of her heart against mine.
"Chahat," I breathed.
She didn't respond but she didn't pull away either and that was all I needed.
I captured her lips with mine.
It wasn't gentle. It wasn't soft. It was everything I had been holding back for weeks. Every longing glance, every stolen touch, every sleepless night spent aching for her.
I kissed her like I was starving.
My hands tangled in her wet hair, tilting her head back. She gasped against my lips. My tongue swept across her lower lip, demanding entry and she gave it to me.
She opened for me.
A low groan escaped my throat as her taste flooded my senses. She was rain and warmth and something uniquely hers. Something that made my head spin and my blood burn.
I pressed her back against the glass window.
The cool surface contrasted with the heat of her body, and she shivered. Her hands came up to my chest, gripping my wet shirt. She didn't push me away.
She pulled me closer.
"Kartik," she breathed against my lips.
I kissed her harder.
My hands roamed her body, sliding down her waist. I felt every curve through the wet fabric of her saree. Felt the softness of her skin beneath my fingers. Felt the way she trembled against me.
I pulled back just enough to look at her.
Her eyes were dark, glazed with desire. Her lips were swollen, glistening. Her chest was rising and falling with rapid breaths.
I kissed her again.
This time, slower.
I wanted to memorize every inch of her. Every sound she made. Every way her body responded to mine.
She arched into me, her fingers curling into my hair. She pulled me closer, her lips moving against mine with a desperation that matched my own.
I pulled back from the kiss.
My chest was heaving. My lips were tingling. My entire body was on fire with a need I could barely control.
Her cheeks were flushed a deep pink, her lips were swollen from my kisses.
Neither of us said anything.
I reached for her hand instead.
Her fingers slipped into mine almost hesitantly, and I led her toward the living room.
A large stone fireplace stood against one of the walls. I crouched in front of it and arranged the logs before lighting them. Within moments, the flames began to catch, their warmth slowly spreading through the room.
"Yahin raho," I told her. "Main abhi aata hoon."
(Stay here. I'll be right back.)
I headed toward one of the bedrooms.
Thankfully, the property was well maintained. I found a clean towel in the bathroom and, beside the wardrobe, a compact electric clothes dryer meant for emergencies and damp clothing.
I removed my wet shirt, hung it properly near the warm airflow of the dryer and switched it on.
Then I ran the towel through my hair, rubbing away the excess water before checking the shirt again. It would take some time.
I returned to the living room with another towel in my hand and held it out to Chahat.
"Ye lo."
(Here, take this.)
She accepted it.
"Kapde change kar lo. Thand lag jayegi. Main tumhare liye kuch dhoondhta hoon."
(Change your clothes. You'll catch a cold. I'll find something for you.)
She nodded and took the towel.
I walked back toward the bedroom and opened the wardrobe.
Nothing.
There were a few spare blankets, some neatly folded linens and basic emergency supplies, but nothing remotely suitable for her.
I exhaled.
My eyes eventually fell on my shirt.
It was finally dry.
I picked it up and returned to the living room.
But I stopped completely when I saw the view.
She was standing near the fireplace wrapped in a towel.
Just a towel.
Her legs were bare; long and smooth. The towel reached mid-thigh. The fabric was wrapped around her, tucked at her chest, revealing the curve of her breasts.
Her hair was wet, dark strands clinging to her shoulders. Her skin was glowing in the firelight.
She was tempting.
She was so tempting that I forgot how to breathe.
I stood there, frozen, my shirt dangling from my hand.
My gaze immediately shifted away.
I cleared my throat and held the shirt out toward her.
"Ye pehen lo."
(Wear this.)
And judging by the way her cheeks immediately turned pink again, I wasn't the only one suddenly aware of how intimate the situation had become.
She held it against herself for a moment, her cheeks still carrying the faint warmth left by our kiss, before quietly disappearing into one of the bedrooms to change.
I returned to the fireplace and sat down, extending my hands toward the flames. The warmth slowly seeped into my cold fingers while the rain continued tapping against the windows, softer now but still persistent.
A few minutes later, I heard footsteps behind me.
I looked over my shoulder and forgot everything else.
She was standing there wearing my shirt. It was obviously too large for her. The sleeves covered most of her hands, and it reached her thighs. Her damp hair framed her face, and the firelight softened every feature.
She looked beautiful. Far too beautiful for my peace of mind.
I watched her approach before finally forcing myself to look away.
She sat beside me, keeping a little distance between us.
"Comfortable?"
She nodded.
Her knees were drawn up to her chest, her arms wrapped around them. She was still shivering slightly, the chill of the rain lingering on her skin.
I couldn't help but reach for her.
I pulled her closer, wrapping my arms around her. Her back pressed against my chest, and I felt the warmth of her body seep into me.
She gasped.
Her head turned, her eyes meeting mine over her shoulder. She ended up sitting between my legs, her back resting against my chest.
She was still shivering.
The rain continued outside.
The fire crackled in front of us and slowly, I felt the trembling in her body begin to ease.
She glanced up at me again. I lowered my gaze to hers. Neither of us spoke.
For once, there was nothing that needed to be said.
I tightened my arms around her slightly, letting her settle closer against me.
She didn't pull away.
Instead, after a moment of hesitation, she relaxed into my embrace.
And somehow, sitting there with her tucked against me while the storm raged outside, I found myself wishing the night wouldn't end so quickly.
The fire crackled softly, casting warm shadows across the room.
Her head fell back to rest on my shoulder. Her eyes were closed, her lips slightly parted. The firelight flickered across her face, making her look ethereal.
I couldn't stop looking at her.
My hand came up to her face. Absentmindedly, I stroked her cheek. My thumb traced the curve of her cheekbone, the line of her jaw. Her skin was soft and warm beneath my touch.
She stirred and her eyes opened.
She turned slightly toward me, looking at me over her shoulder.
Her eyes met mine.
Something flickered in them. Surprise? Curiosity? Desire?
I couldn't tell but I couldn't look away.
My hand stilled on her cheek. I could feel the warmth of her skin beneath my palm. Could feel the rapid beat of her pulse beneath my thumb.
"Kartik..." she breathed.
I didn't answer.
I just looked at her.
I looked at the way her lips were slightly parted. The way her cheeks were flushed. The way her eyes were dark and soft.
I couldn't help myself.
I cupped her cheek.
I tilted her face toward me and I gulped down looking at her lips once again.
Then I leaned in and I pressed my lips against hers.
I kissed her like she was precious. Like she was the most important thing in the world.
She sighed against my lips.
Her hand came up to my cheek, She pulled me closer, deepening the kiss.
I groaned.
I pulled her even closer, my arms tightening around her. Her body melted against mine, soft and warm and perfect.
We kissed like we had all the time in the world.
And maybe we did.
She pulled back just enough to look at me.
Her eyes were dark. Her lips were swollen. Her cheeks were flushed.
She looked beautiful.
"Like what you see?" she whispered.
Something inside me snapped.
I cupped her neck, my fingers tangling in her damp hair. I pulled her closer, and I kissed her again.
I kissed her like I had been starving for her my entire life. Like she was the only thing keeping me alive. Like I would die if I stopped.
She gasped against my lips.
I bit her lower lip.
Gently. Just enough to make her gasp. Just enough to make her arch against me.
She moaned.
The sound went straight to my head, straight to my blood, straight to every part of me that was aching for her.
I couldn't hold myself back.