Words of Silence: PAGE 202 Oct 25 2006 - Page 92

Chapter Forty Five

It was a battle he was fighting with her. A battle she was fighting with herself. And, she understood it well when he pressed his lips to hers. Hot and hard. He didn't want to love her. He wanted to punish her. Or perhaps even conquer her.

Yet the kiss wasn't cruel. His mouth moved on hers hot and hard, but the kiss wasn't cruel. He was doing what he was out of anger, not desire. It was betrayal on her part and ego on his that had them here. And she couldn't forget that for even a fraction of a second.

I will have you. And, you won't stop me. You'll help me.

She remembered the words and she acknowledged them. He might be punishing her but she was going to see it as love. She knew when it was done she would be scared of his touch, be scared of him. But if this was the only way she could have him close she would let it happen.

She wanted to stroke to arouse and seduce. Hope for a second that maybe, just maybe, she would be able to control him. Slow him down, let him love her; touch her with care and gentleness. But her hands were too numb to move, let alone touch him.

Then again she wanted to stop him push him away and run away from there. She lay still under him, waiting. Maybe he would leave her. Or maybe she would be able to fight and win.

But she knew she was only thinking so to console herself.

He'd never loved anyone before Kripa. He had never touch, kissed, or caressed anyone the way he wanted to with her. His wife. But she had taken it all away from him. He kissed, touched, and stroked, but to wound, not pamper.

Only he knew that he wasn't half as hurt when Amna had disagreed to marry him. He wasn't half as hurt when Kripa had told him that he would have to marry Amna. He wasn't even as hurt when Kripa told him that she had been lying to him. He was hurt now. Because for the first time in his life he held a lady to give her pain, not love.

Or at least that's what he was telling himself. This was punishment not love.

Her blood froze when his hand slid to the side of her waist to untie the belt of her robe. He knew he would find nothing but flesh under the material.

When he moved the material off her shoulders he felt the softness that moved him. But when he touched her shoulder, gently, he also discovered that he moved her.

When his lips touched her shoulder, she began to struggle again. Her robe parted for him; he pressed himself against her again, harder.

Angad Khanna her husband wanted to stop, gather her in her arms and love her right from that moment. Tell her again and again he didn't care where Amna was, he didn't care for the child that she carried. He cared for her, his wife, and he was going to love her just as much as he loved her until, before he read the horrific e-mail. Whisper in her ear that he loved her and only her. No one else mattered but her to him.

However, Angad Khanna the man wanted the complete opposite. He wanted to hurt her and tell her that he hated her. He wanted to swallow her within him to hurt her. He wanted to punish her and then leave her to find the poor lady whose life she had ruined for her own happiness.

Yes, he had told her to be selfish for once. But this selfish?

It was true; he didn't care for the child, but for Amna. He cared for the humiliations she would have to face as a single, unwed, mother.

She knew that panic was the last thing she should have been doing, but she couldn't help it. Her struggles made them roll on the bed once. His mouth lowered but she pushed him and they rolled again, taking them where he wanted.

When she calmed down, he looked at her eyes. They were anything but angry. And it was still there, the trust. Fading with every passing minute. But whatever that stood was strong. He knew she wasn't going to give up. He knew he would see the trust there until he reached the end of this punishment. And, Angad Khanna, the man, wanted to see it leave completely. Forever.

When his palm moved down her bare back, every door closed, but passions. But then within the next second, when his teeth caught the flesh on her shoulder other doors opened. The doors to fear that gave excitement. Adventure that they both would remember until their last breaths. Yet at the same time the adventure would be a dangerous one. One that would destroy them both.

She pushed again and they rolled again. When she was under him again, on the other side of the bed, she looked up at him. Now in anger. "I despise you Angad Khanna."

"Save yourself some breath sweetheart, and just say 'I hate you.'"

"I wish I could, but I can't say that yet. I'll wait because I'm hoping that my husband will come to save me." Her eyes were sad again.

Angad felt his heart stop as he bit his upper lips. He fell on her and embraced her. "He's right here Kripa."

The tears fell then. "For how long is he staying?" Her hand lifted and cupped his nape. While the other hand stroked his hair.

"Not very long." He lifted again and looked at her.

The moon light slanted on her face. Against her milky pale skin, through her dark, pale, eyes. Leaving them glowing.

"But I won't stop. I'll still punish you, to please myself. Because although your husband loves you very much. The man within him is hurt and he hates you. He will hurt you and punish you without thinking about what it will take to do so."

Something inside him quietly ripped. His heart? His soul? Perhaps both?

As quickly as the though stung him he pushed it away. And, it left faster than it came. He fixed his desire to punish her again.

She looked at him. The emotions changing him, within him.

When his mouth lowered to hers again, he knew this kiss would be soft and gentle. One coming from the husband who loved his wife very much.

She moved her head. A small defense that fell vain. Her breath caught, then expelled in a soft moan, when his lips met the curve of her neck. Her hands lifted and held him and she whispered as he continued to torture her by moving his lips teasingly over her soft skin. "Just know that I don't care what you do tonight. You continue or stop right now. Kripa Kapoor loved Angad Khanna. She loved Angad Khanna as Mrs. Kripa Angad Khanna. And after this, she will still love him. Despite the fact she knows that you will hate her. You do hate her."

He wanted to yell at her and tell her that he didn't hate her. In fact he was going to hate himself after tonight and forever. But he also knew he wasn't going to stop.

He continued moving his lips over her skin, torturing so much he felt the pain move from her to him. His tongue traced patters over her neck and shoulders. She was tempted to keep her hands to herself, to not give him the touch he wanted at the moment. To keep her desires in check, to make sure he would realize and stop.

She became still, very still. For a second he felt like her breathing had stopped. His words came back. "…you won't stop me. You'll help me…"

She trembled.

She remembered why he was here, why she was here. Why what was happening was wrong. Not only for her but also for him. But she couldn't. Her mind had given up and if anything she could only feel.

She couldn't see right from wrong. From virtue from sin. If she could see or feel anything it was the fact that nothing could stop him tonight. He might have given this exercise the name, punishment. She knew for a fact that it wasn't true. It was love. Moreover whoever said that love was always gentle? Love was always painful, history said so. Love was love, gentle or not.

He wanted and so did she.

She was human, she reminded herself. And, Angad was correct. She only tried to be perfect. Even God wasn't perfect, and then who was she? A young lady who had faced a tragedy earlier in her life and kept it there with her? For what? To find a man like Angad Khanna one day and then let him go because she couldn't be selfish. Because she loved him. Or because she only knew half the truth before getting married, not the full. And she hadn't. Yes she knew Amna was pregnant but there was something else behind that as well.

When his mouth found hers again, she was waiting for him. Unlike last time, she returned the kiss with the same passion and heat he showed her.

But to shock him. He had told her she would help him, he would make her help him. He wouldn't be a part of this sin alone. Never. If he was going to live in hell he was doing to drag her there with him. Yet protect her from the evil.

Impatient and desperate together they rolled on the bed again. This time she lost her robe, completely. Her arms were free to brace him.

He'd seen her erupt once, but that was in anger. In frustration. Tonight she erupted to love. To receive and give. He felt like an earthquake just hit. An earthquake that only he could feel, because Kripa was under him.

She noticed he was struggling to remind himself again and again, like her, why they were here. They were not here to love, but to fight. But the battle had started of different and it was going to end differently then expected.

She helped him, like he'd told her she would do. She helped him but pulling his shirt open. Scattering the buttons of his shirt on the mattress and on the marble floor beneath.

She smiled at him when he looked at her. "I won't let you feel guilty alone, Angad. If you're dragging yourself in hell on purpose, I'll go with you. Like it or not, I'm married to you. And I promised to be with you forever."

"And I'm not leaving you even if you asked me to, my idiotic wife." He kissed her forehead at that moment, leaving Kripa trembling at the sweet gesture. "But I'll never treat you like it."

She smiled again, but this time her smile was sad. "I didn't expect you to do that myself."

Again he pushed tenderness aside this time Kripa kissed him, the way she never had before. Hungrily. His mouth moved when he pulled her hair so her head tilted up, he watched her smile again.

"You're killing me Kripa."

"You chose this path, Angad. You know better than I do that if you touch me after tonight it will happen against my will. You know that once tonight is over I'll never be able to look at you the way I used to. Nothing will be the same once tonight is over."
"You're right." His voice was soft and slow. He looked in her eyes, the trust was gone. Replaced with something different. Something he didn't recognize. What was it? He wanted to know, what it was. Forgiveness? For what though?

For what you are doing Angad. Stop yourself and let her go. Its love you see in her eyes, but the love without the trust. The trust that broke, the trust that will rebuilt only if you let her go now. She's supports you because she sees the future and the guilty you. She doesn't support you right now because she loves you. Yes, she will forgive you. But the love will die after tonight until time wants it back. Stop even now.

"Are you going to let me go?"

He looked at her and his head fell to her neck and he hugged her. With a smile she held him back, running her hand on his bare back.

"Are you not going to finish, Angad?"

"I will Kripa. I'm not going to let you go, but I'm thinking why you are supporting me."

The curtains of the room flew with the cold winds blowing. It wasn't a stormy night. The only storm that Kripa could sense was the one held within Angad.

He rolled twice and they were wrapped in a blanket. "Why are you helping me, instead of stopping me?"

"Because that's what you want." She stroked her fingers to his cheek.

"But that's not what you want."

"My wants don't matter right now, do they? I rather have you make me yours tonight and then hate me forever than letting you go now wait for you, knowing you're never coming back. If I married you being selfish, I'm also letting you destroy me out of selfishness. I don't want you to make love with me either. I want you to punish because I don't want to wake-up tomorrow morning with the hope that one day you'll tell me again that you love me. Don't stop now, Angad. We've come too far to stop."

The tears spilled completely now. She closed her eyes in pain because this was it. It was tonight and he would never be close to her again. But she knew, he knew, she had destroyed her life and his life with her own hands.

He kissed her again not tenderly but not passionately. He used his teeth on her lips now. Then moved away swiftly, leaving her lips unsatisfied. Wherever his kisses reached she was tortured and tormented, there and then. Again and again.

She was afraid, aroused. She wanted to stop him suddenly, again. But she couldn't. He'd given her a chance and she'd let go. But still she would try; she placed her hand on his chest. There was nothing more he could give her now. But he did. His lips held power, too much power. Her blood burned as she took his name in a cry. His lips continued to suck the life out of her skin.

She couldn't do anything but shudder in weakness. Her hands had clutched the bed cloth, relaxed and then went lax. She felt like she was floating and she smiled in pleasure.

He kissed her down to her stomach and then back up, she was trembling. When his lips reached her mouth again she pulled his hair to stop him. She needed to breathe. She was damp and soft under his strong, rough gentle hands.

She tugged at his sweats now. She had a sample but she wanted him completely.

Yes, this was lust. There was love somewhere, but now it was lost. Lost under millions of layers. There was misunderstandings, hate, betrayal, lust, greed, and love was hidden, pressed, suffocated, under all of it. Between it all.

He teased her, gave her pain that fulfilled his pleasures. His fingers brushed her skin, everywhere. Nothing was left chaste, and soon nor would she be. He would make her his but only to give her stabs and bruises and to torture her from tonight on.

His fingers moved down her waist and to her thighs. He felt her shudder; he felt her eyes fly open as he gave her new feelings. He hampered her progress by arousing her slowly, continuously.

Her muscles went lax when he stopped and brushed his mouth over hers again. It wasn't meant to be a tender gesture. It was stretching the night because he saw it was killing her. She wanted him off of her, she wanted this to end and never start again.

And, when she thought it might come to an end, he started something new.

She hated him, officially. Her eyes clouded again as she tried to focus on his face. His eyes had cooled down to a lifeless gray color. The color of their life from tonight on.

Her own eyes were pail and lifeless. And like his eyes, her eyes also read the pain and agony in his.

She remembered everything; every moment that they had spent together came into her mind. Clouding everything within her. When her eyes opened again, he was looking at her with tears in his eyes.

"Don't cry now, Angad." She wiped them for him. Asking herself was this the last time she would be able to do so. "End it."

Her eyes open, her heart willing, she gathered him close. She wanted him to hold her back, but he didn't. If anything she wanted his hand in hers. But again, he didn't even give her that much. He was going to end this like he had started it, at least in his mind. Painfully, like a punishment was supposed to be in the end. The only difference tonight was that, he would punish her, and they both would hurt. Not forever perhaps, but for a mighty long, long time.

With that thought he made her his, for once and for only that moment. Never again would he touch her like this.

Her eyes grew wider as her head moved up. Her teeth clawed the skin on his shoulder. While one hand clung to the sheets with her nails sinking into the mattress. Her other hand rested tightly on his other shoulder.

It started and ended in a flash. Rough and raged.

He punished her, yes, he punished her. But it was a painfully, pleasuring punishment.

He pressed his lips into her throat and felt her pulse there. He'd drank her and now heard her finally start crying. He wasn't going to tell her to stop, he wasn't going to gather her close and comfort her either. But there were two things he was going to tell her.

"I'm sorry Kripa." He fell beside her, and she turned to her side, wrapped in the blanket still. "And, for the last time in my life I'll tell you…" He turned his head and then turned her around. Her eyes were closed and his touch, like she had told him, scared her now. She shuddered, and then her eyes opened to look at him. He saw fear in them now. The trust was gone. The pain was gone. The anger was gone. Everything was gone but fear. "I love you. I love you a lot."

She curled into a little ball and all he heard was her whimpers into the bed sheets, into her pillow.

Silence from then on seemed to last forever. And she drowned herself into it again, deeper. She wanted him to leave. But he couldn't. She felt the mattress move when he stood up and walked to his closet and then into the bathroom.

He died at that moment and so did she. Tomorrow two new, two different people were going to wake up. Two people whose problem didn't end right here. Two people who were going to start reliving their lives. Two people who were going to stay away from each other, lost in the lost love. But the love that they had lost was going to grow everyday without letting them know it was growing.