31 ~ Tempting Chahat #2
I pulled her closer, shifting her in my arms. Before she could react, I had her straddling me, her knees on either side of my hips, her body pressed against mine.
She gasped.
"Wait..."
I kissed her again.
My hands roamed her body, sliding up her thighs, gripping her hips, pressing her against me. I could feel the heat of her through the thin fabric of my shirt. Could feel every curve, every softness, every part of her that was driving me insane.
She was so beautiful. So perfect. So completely and utterly mine.
Her fingers tangled in my hair, pulling me closer. Her lips moved against mine, hungry and desperate. Her body pressed against me, soft and warm and everything I had ever wanted.
"Chahat," I breathed against her lips.
She pulled back just enough to look at me. Her eyes were dark. Her lips were swollen. Her cheeks were flushed.
The fire crackled beside us, casting warm shadows across the room. The heat enveloped us, mingling with the heat of our bodies.
I could feel the rapid beat of her heart against my chest, could feel the way her breath caught with every touch.
I kissed her neck.
She tilted her head back, giving me more access. I pressed open-mouthed kisses along her throat, feeling her pulse flutter beneath my lips.
"Uhh..." she breathed.
I smiled against her skin and stood up with her in my arms.
She gasped, her legs wrapping around my waist instinctively. Her arms looped around my neck, pulling me closer. Our lips never parted.
I carried her through the living room, toward one of the bedrooms. The firelight flickered behind us, casting long shadows across the walls.
I pushed the door open with my shoulder.
The room was dim, the curtains drawn, the only light filtering through was from the living room. The bed was large, covered in soft white sheets.
I walked toward it and I dropped her on the bed.
She bounced against the mattress, her hair fanning out around her. She looked up at me, her eyes dark, her lips swollen, her chest heaving.
She was beautiful.
I hovered over her, my body caging hers against the soft sheets. I looked down at her, drinking in every detail. The flush on her cheeks. The parting of her lips. The way her body was already arching toward mine.
"What are you doing to me?" I breathed.
My lips crashed against hers, hungry and desperate.
She kissed me back with equal fervor.
Her hands came up to my chest, exploring my bare skin, tracing every ridge of muscle.
I groaned against her lips.
I kissed her collarbone and she moaned. Then I kissed the swell of her breasts above the neckline of my shirt.
She arched into me.
I kissed her throat.
My lips pressed against the soft skin, warm and fragrant. I felt her pulse flutter beneath my mouth, rapid and wild. I pressed harder, my teeth grazing her skin, and she gasped.
I left a mark.
A small, dark bruise that bloomed beneath my lips like a secret.
I couldn't stop myself.
I marked her.
I wanted everyone to know she was mine. I wanted her to see it in the mirror tomorrow and remember this moment. Remember who she belonged to.
Soft, open-mouthed kisses trailed along the sharp line of her bone. She tilted her head back, giving me more access. I took it greedily.
I ached with need.
My arousal was throbbing hard, pressing against my pants, demanding attention.
I pulled back just enough to look at her.
Her eyes were glazed with desire. Her chest was rising and falling with rapid breaths.
She was perfect and she was mine.
I pulled her close.
My arms wrapped around her, drawing her against me. She was warm and soft, her body molding perfectly against mine.
I hugged her tightly.
I held her as if I was afraid she would disappear if I let go.
She hugged me back.
Her arms wrapped around me, her face buried in my chest. I could feel her breath against my skin, warm and steady.
We lay there, tangled in each other.
The exhaustion of the day finally caught up with us. The travel, the rain, the emotions. It all melted away, replaced by the simple comfort of being in each other's arms.
Her breast pressed against my chest, soft and warm. Her legs intertwined with mine.
It was all so soothing and peaceful.
I felt my eyes grow heavy. I pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Goodnight, Trouble."
She mumbled something against my chest.
I smiled and I closed my eyes.
.
.
.
Morning arrived quietly.
The storm from the previous night had disappeared, leaving behind a strangely peaceful silence. Soft sunlight filtered through the curtains, falling across the bed in pale golden streaks.
I opened my eyes and the first thing I saw was Chahat.
She was still asleep beside me, her face relaxed, her hair was scattered messily across the pillow, with one stubborn strand resting against her cheek.
I couldn't help smiling.
Then I noticed where her hand had ended up again.
I let out a quiet chuckle.
She had somehow managed to find the same place even in her sleep.
I carefully moved the strand of hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear. My fingers lingered for a moment before I gently cupped her cheek.
She looked peaceful.
So different from the guarded woman who had spent weeks looking at me as though she was constantly preparing for another argument.
As though sensing my touch, she shifted closer.
Before I could move, her arms wrapped around me, pulling herself against my chest.
I froze for half a second then I relaxed, allowing myself to hold her.
"Good morning, baby."
A sleepy sound escaped her. "Good morning..."
And then, without another thought, she buried her face against me and fell asleep again.
I smiled.
I looked toward the window.
The sky was clear now. The trees outside were still wet from the previous night's rain, and tiny droplets glistened on the leaves beneath the morning light.
The storm had finally passed.
I ran my fingers gently through her hair. "Chalo, ghar chalte hain. Sab wait kar rahe honge."
(let's go home. Everyone must be waiting.)
She tightened her arms around me without opening her eyes. "Bas thodi der..."
(Just a little longer...)
I shook my head, unable to hide my smile.
I heaved and was staring at the ceiling after sometime I felt her stir against me.
My gaze immediately dropped.
She rubbed her eyes sleepily before blinking at the morning light filtering through the curtains. She stretched her arms above her head, still looking half-asleep, and slowly sat up.
Then she smiled looking at me.
It was such a small, unguarded smile that I couldn't help watching her.
"What?"
She shook her head, apparently deciding not to tell me.
I started to sit up from the bed.
But before I could move properly, she held my hand to stop me. As she shifted forward to get off the bed, she lost her balance and ended up sitting on me.
I froze. So did she.
For a few seconds, neither of us moved.
My eyes travelled to her face.
The sleepy softness in her expression, the slight flush on her cheeks, the way her hair fell around her shoulders, it all made it incredibly difficult to remember what I had intended to do.
My expression darkened with desire before I could stop it.
She noticed.
Her smile slowly disappeared, replaced by sudden nervousness.
Her eyes met mine.
The air between us changed.
The playful morning suddenly felt far more intimate, and I could feel the tension building between us with every passing second.
She was sitting on top of me.
Her thighs were straddling my hips, her body resting against mine. Her hair was tousled, falling across her shoulders in soft waves. She was looking down at me.
My hands found her waist.
I held her, my fingers pressing into her soft curves. I could feel the warmth of her skin through the thin fabric of my shirt that she was still wearing.
Her eyes widened and she gasped when my morning arousal throbbed against her core.
Her cheeks turned crimson.
I smirked. "Good morning, Trouble."
She didn't answer.
She couldn't.
I could see the way her breath caught. The way her pupils dilated. The way her body seemed to freeze, suspended in the moment.
I pulled her closer, my hands sliding up her waist.
She was sitting on my cock driving me insane.
Every slight movement she made sent jolts of pleasure through me. I could feel the heat of her through the fabric. Could feel the softness of her curves. Could feel the way her body was responding to me.
She tried to move, to shift away but I held her in place.
"Kartik..." She swallowed hard.
I could see the conflict in her eyes.
I smiled. A slow, sensual smile that made her breath catch.
"Kya hua, baby?" I murmured. "Dar lag raha hai?"
(What happened, baby? Are you scared?)
She bit her lips and lowered her gaze.
To be continued...