Arnav & Khushi FF || Serendipity #1 || Link to Thread Two: Pg 1 - Page 60

She tasted like vanilla. Vanilla and jagermeister and a strong taste of something very exclusively Khushi. He moved his lips determinedly against hers, begging for some sort of response, for some form of affirmative that this moment was passing between them. Her grip around his collar had slackened as he memorized the contours of her lips, her arms linking behind his neck and pulling him closer. Yet she refused to respond to his ministrations, letting herself revel simply in the feel of his lips on her own.

"Please Khushi", said the guttural voice escaping from the hollow of his throat. He wiped the remnants of her bright, smeared lipstick with the pad of his thumb. "I need you right now"

And as he leaned towards her once again, he finally felt the hesitant movement of her lips parting to brush against his own, letting his tongue touch hers tentatively as he explored the depths of her mouth. He was stroking her fire, and out of its own accord her body aligned deeper against his... begging to bridge whatever distance lay between them. What was happening to her? How could one confession leave her so desperate?

Her series of doubts were broken as the elevator unceremoniously rang to announce the arrival of Khushi's floor. With difficulty, she shyly distanced herself to retreat to her room for the night... only to be grasped by the wrist and pulled back into his embrace.

"Please", he whispered against her trembling lips, beseeching her to concede to his please.

A part of her brain warned her to move away. To protect herself from the hurt and the pain that would follow.

But she didn't

In a tangle of limbs, Arnav and Khushi tumbled out the hotel elevator... pulling at hair and nipping at skin, uncaring of the other residents occupying the floor. He broke apart from her kiss to desperately ransack his pockets for room keys... the arousal growing intolerable under his wife's discretion. With a smirk, he hurried to open his door, the blood rushing through his body blistering and fervent.

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He latched the door behind him after leading Khushi inside, his intoxicated stupor causing his hands to tremble and his steps to falter. When he turned around to gather her into his arms once again, he felt the breath being knocked out of his chest... leaving an empty cavity of where his lungs once resided. Had breathing always been such a labored task? There was his wife basking in the radiance of New York City's dim light... the blush of her cheeks deepening as the curve of her downcast lashes brushed delicately against them. She was so sinfully beautiful, dressed in that bold red, her hazel eyes hidden behind the elaborate golden mask that hindered her natural beauty. A magnetic force, and he proved powerless against her pull.

He caressed her cheek with a soft stroke of his slightly trembling finger, marveling in how something so human could feel so irrationally gentle. Her ears flushed to match the color spreading across her face... the red of her dress complimenting the newly tinted hue of her skin. He moved forward to untie the mask around her eyes, delighting in how her lips shivered as it slipped away from her body.

Their eyes locked. Heat scorched. Bodies ached. Alcohol coursed. And only two words were whispered relentlessly into the silence of the night.

"I'm sorry. I am so sorry, Khushi. I'm so sorry"

Words of a defeated man standing opposite a broken woman who he unfairly demolished, only to be stopped short as she placed her small hand on his lips and shook her head in negative... a small smile of acknowledgment adorning her beautiful face.

Arnav moved forward to pull Khushi into his embrace; bliss rushing through his body as she uncertainly wrapped her small arms around him. He reassured her by lifting her face by the chin and smoothly melding his lips with her own. Softly, gently. A side of him foreign and unfamiliar. A side long forgotten through her months of turmoil. It was a kiss that deepened in acceptance, as tongues touched in reconciliation and bodies adhered with passion.

Tonight she thrived in his apology; a small moan escaping her as his fingers slowly pulled away the strap of her dress... his lips hungrily tracing the length of her shoulder. They traced a path of fire... and she burned under his touch.

Khushi moaned as he arched her body backwards, her nails digging into his shoulders to maintain some semblance of balance. Lips continued to forage the valley between her breasts... whispering her name against her as unavoidable goose bumps erupted at the feel of his warm breath against her skin. Impatient fingers travelled up the small curve of her back to find the zipper and the hooks of her dress, fumbling with the complicated clasps that held it together. Electricity shot through Khushi's nerves as the dress loosened and the cold of Arnav's hands replaced the feel of the warm, red fabric along her skin.

More. She needed more. He needed more.

The comfort of flesh against flesh.

The comfort only a man could give to a woman, and a woman to a man.

Khushi gasped as he spun her around and pinned her securely against the wall, tracing tantalizing patterns from her neck to the bend of her hips, the all-consuming feel of his fingers and his lips causing her to throw back her head in ecstasy. The hair on her nape stood to attention as she struggled to retain the use of her knees. He grazed at the lobe of her ear as he pushed his body deeper against her own... forcing her to recognize her affect on him. Forcing her to recognize the extent of his unbearable desire.

She acknowledged it.

And she acknowledged her reciprocation.

So she did not quarrel when the hooks of her brassiere were undone and her garments removed. She did not quarrel when Arnav stepped aside to counter the actions for himself. She did not quarrel as she was lifted into his arms and placed onto his bed - exposed, vulnerable, naked.

Did the alcohol impair or strengthen her judgment? She wasn't sure. But at the moment, she didn't give a damn.

For her focus was solely on the feel of his tongue on her bare breast. Her attention was occupied by the way he touched the birthmark below her hip and traced her collarbones with his lips. Her mind wavered to the way her toes curled as his fingers explored her core and his breathing deepened as she nervously touched the planes of his chest. The accusations and doubts were drowned amidst their unfamiliar pants and moans. Questions of honor and the consequences of intoxication were rendered useless... with only one question left worth pondering.

"Khushi", he gasped unevenly as his lips detached from hers, "Are you alright?"

She pulled him closer to herself and nodded desperately in confirmation, not conceding the blatant promiscuity as she spread her legs apart and pleaded for him to continue. With a kiss, the firm entwining of their hands and a small cry in discomfort, Khushi transformed from a girl into a woman -- the pain shooting through her body exhilarating her. He whispered countless reassurances and kissed away the traces of the tears that escaped from their confines - slowly initiating the ancient dance known to every lover to ever love. Khushi raised her chest in ecstasy as she sighed in indulgence, exulting in the sensation of being wanted and needed. Of being loved. His name rolled of her tongue as she basked in her crazed obsession, encouraged as he groaned receptively in response. Khushi saw the stars burst behind the closed lids of her eyes, felt her body flying in the throes of passion only to fall through the sky as she retained her physical presence on Earth.

Fazed, she saw Arnav throwing his head back in his attained pleasure, satiated and wholesome. How could a man look so unfathomably handsome? His body collapsed firmly onto her own, breathing uneven and disjointed. She welcomed his weight and tried to gather the use of her limbs, her senses and her erratically pounding heart... her trembling hands entwining with the errant locks falling untidily across his forehead. The smell of sweat, lust, sandalwood and alcohol lingered in the air, the noises of the bustling city outside now evident in the growing silence.

Exhaustion and liquor began to take their toll on her body, and Khushi's semiconscious mind heard the incoherent remnants of an intoxicated, slurred confession being muttered against her bosom.

"Khushi... I hate that I could never love you"

And then she surrendered to the unavoidable slumber.