[65]HER TURN
Amisha lifted herself off his lap slowly, trying to regain some composure, her cheeks still flushed from the intensity of their conversation.
She stood, adjusted her kurti, and muttered, "Sone ja rahi hoon."
Then turned toward the bed.
Abhiraj watched her, eyes narrowing.
He had poured his heart out-told her how much he loved her, desired her, found her beautiful.
And she had said "sone."
Just "sone."
He stood up slowly.
Amisha glanced back, saw the look on his face, and paused.
He walked to the cradle, gently lifted sleeping Aviraj, and placed him carefully in the baby trolley beside the bed (safe, secure, with pillows around).
Amisha frowned.
"Arre... usko bed se kyun le liya?"
He turned to her, voice low.
"Kaam hai mujhko."
Then he moved fast.
In two steps he was in front of her, hands on her waist, lifting her again (effortlessly, like she weighed nothing).
She gasped, legs automatically wrapping around his waist, arms around his neck.
"Arre... kya kar rahe ho ab?!"
He held her close, eyes locked on hers.
"Maine keh diya main tumse kitna pyar karta hoon...
ab mujhe kaun kahega ki woh mujhe pyar karti hai?"
Amisha realised.
It was her turn.
Her heart raced.
His hands slid down, under her gagra (direct to her bare skin, palms cupping her butt firmly, fingers teasing the soft flesh).
She shivered.
He squeezed gently, one finger tracing lower, finding her already wet.
Playing with her juices (slow, deliberate strokes).
She gasped, head falling to his shoulder.
He hummed, shaking his head like
"not enough."
"Bolo... kitna pyar karti ho?"
His finger circled her entrance, teasing.
She shivered harder.
"Bohot... j-jyada..."
He hummed again, finger dipping just inside.
"And?"
She clung tighter, voice breaking.
"Bahut... zyada... hamesha..."
He squeezed her butt, finger sliding deeper.
"Aur?"
She moaned softly.
"Tum mere ho... sirf mere...
main tumhare bina nahi reh sakti..."
He smiled against her neck.
"Good girl."
His fingers kept playing (slow, torturous, making her drip more).
She was lost.
Completely his.
The anger gone.
Only love left.
And the promise that tomorrow,
she would say it again.
And again.
Until he never doubted it either.
Abhiraj's fingers were still inside her, slow and deliberate, drawing soft, helpless sounds from her throat.
He pulled back just enough to meet her eyes, voice low and rough with desire.
"Panty kyun nahi pehni?"
Amisha's breath came in shallow pants, her body trembling against him.
"Raat ko... nahi pehnti main..."
His eyes darkened, a wicked, hungry grin spreading across his face.
"Good.
Yeh bahut help karega mujhe... haaj raat."
Before she could say another word, he claimed her mouth.
The kiss was deep, raw, and utterly consuming.
His lips crashed against hers with months of pent-up hunger, parting them forcefully.
He sucked her lower lip into his mouth (hard, possessive), teeth grazing the soft flesh, biting down just enough to make her gasp sharply.
The gasp opened her to him.
His tongue plunged deep (hot, demanding, stroking hers in long, slow, filthy drags).
He licked every corner of her mouth, tasting her fully, claiming every inch.
Saliva mixed, slick and warm, trailing from the corners of their lips as he pulled back only to dive in again from a different angle.
He bit her upper lip this time (sharp tug), sucked it until it throbbed, then soothed it with a slow lick.
She moaned into him (high, needy, desperate), hands fisting in his hair, pulling him closer, nails scraping his scalp.
He groaned (deep, guttural), the sound vibrating through her chest.
His tongue tangled with hers (rough, relentless, fucking her mouth in slow, deliberate thrusts).
He sucked her tongue into his mouth, licked the roof of her mouth, the sensitive underside of her lip.
Messy (saliva dripping down her chin, their breaths ragged and wet).
He didn't let her breathe properly (just enough air to keep her conscious, then taking her mouth again).
Biting.
Sucking.
Licking.
Tongue plunging deeper, curling around hers, drawing out more moans.
Her hands roamed (one tangled in his hair, pulling hard, the other sliding down his back, nails digging into his shirt).
His hands (one fisted in her loose hair, tilting her head back for better access, the other under her gagra, fingers still teasing her wetness, sliding in and out slowly, matching the rhythm of his tongue).
She arched against him, hips rocking instinctively, grinding down on his fingers.
He bit her lower lip again (harder), sucked until it was swollen and red, then licked the sting away.
His tongue thrust deep once more (wet, hot, possessive).
She whimpered, body shaking, completely lost in him.
He pulled back just enough to breathe, lips brushing hers, saliva connecting them in a thin string.
Both panting.
Lips swollen.
Eyes wild.
He licked his own lips, tasting her.
Amisha's body felt heavy, boneless, every ounce of fight drained from her.
She tiredly dropped her head onto his shoulder, breathing high and ragged, chest rising and falling fast against him.
The long kiss had taken everything out of her-legs wobbly, mind fuzzy, heart racing.
Abhiraj felt her go limp in his arms.
He smiled softly, then lifted her effortlessly again (lifeless in his hold, like a ragdoll, trusting him completely).
She didn't protest-just let him.
He laid her down gently.
But before she could settle, he leaned over her, kissed her again.
Deep.
Slow.
Breath-stealing.
His lips moved against hers with that same intensity, tongue brushing hers once, twice, making her breath hitch all over again.
She moaned weakly, hands coming up to his chest but too tired to push or pull.
When he finally pulled back, she was breathless, eyes half-closed.
She rested her head on his shoulder once more (naturally, instinctively, seeking his warmth).
He held her close, lips brushing her skin.
Sweet kisses now (comfortable, loving, not sensual).
Soft presses to her neck.
Her jaw.
The curve where neck met shoulder.
Little pecks (tender, reassuring, full of love).
He whispered against her skin, voice low.
"So ja... meri jaan."
His hand stroked her back in slow circles.
Her breathing slowed.
Eyes fluttered closed.
The exhaustion from the day, the emotions, the kiss-it all caught up.
She fell asleep in his arms (head on his shoulder, body curled into him, completely safe).
Abhiraj held her a little longer, kissing her forehead once more.
Then carefully laid her down, tucked the blanket around her.
He climbed in beside her, pulled her close (her head on his chest now).
Aviraj slept peacefully in the cradle nearby.
The room quiet.
The family complete.
And Abhiraj watched over them both,
heart full,
until sleep took him too.