RiKara: From Lust To Love

He watches her naked form, entangled in the sheets of his bed. He takes a sip of that amber liquid that scorches his chest as he swallows it down, and swirls the glass gently, still watching her. How he'd ended up getting addicted to her, he'd never understand. He chose not to understand it too. All he knew was that he had a craving of the flesh to be satisfied, and only she seemed to fulfill his need. He wasn't a saint, for sure; a chuckle escaped his lips at that thought. He had had his share of women to sleep with, but none of them ever came close to satisfying him the way she did. Hell, every time he'd bed her, he'd promise himself that it was the last, and that he wouldn't fall into the traps of lust again. Yet, the very next day he'd find himself at the threshold of her old-crumbling house. By now, he'd lost count of the times he'd slept with her, yet each time he did, he felt like it was new. And each time, she'd let him take from her willingly. He knew he'd become addicted to her, and this was one addiction he really didn't want to rehabilitate from. Presently, looking at her stir in bed, spiralling from a deep slumber to a disturbed sleep, he decided it was best to let her grab a shut eye before he could find himself ravishing her again.

She could sense his presence, his every move around her. If he thought she was asleep, she was a bloody good actor. The truth was she could barely breathe when he was around her. No, it wasn't the alcohol on his breath that repulsed her. In fact, there was nothing about him that repulsed her. She could barely breathe because every time he looked at her, she found herself drowning in his eyes. It was as if his eyes possessed the deepest secrets of the universe which she wished to read. And each time he'd thrust himself into her, she'd find herself being overwhelmed with a bubbling sensation within her heart as he would bring her body to fulfillment when he would make love to her.

Her conscience laughed at her; make love to a wh*re? Every time her cruel mind reminded her that she was nothing but an object of desire, a commodity that was bought for money to fulfill her customer's lust, her sensitive heart broke. An orphan having to fend for herself, she didn't tell the world of her sensitive heart, lest they make a joke out of her; the world was a big, bad and cruel place. So she'd put on the mask of a seductress to make a living.

She couldn't afford to fall in love, that too with a man who paid a hefty amount to keep her exclusively for her. Well, her naive heart did believe, at one point, that the prince of her fairy tale had finally come to rescue her, until she saw the bold headlines in the paper one morning "Billionaire Bachelor Artist, Omkara Oberoi engaged to the elite Riddhima Gupta" Why she'd shed tears the whole day thereafter, when she realized the reason he didn't turn up the previous night- the night of his engagement- was something she'd never understand. Neither did she want to understand it. Her world did not permit love. Her world permitted just trade, where she was to be paid for her services. There was no place for emotion.

Omkara placed the glass on the side table when he saw her stir. Her eyes opened and she noticed him walk slowly around the room with a soft smile. She sat up, watching him approaching her; she let the sheets fall off her naked body, and watched his eyes darken with need in a flash of a second. His eyes shone in the dark, even brighter than the platinum engagement ring on his finger. Climbing onto the bed, he pulled the sheets away, discarding them to the floor, and gently bent his head to suckle her breast, making her moan as his tongue swirled around her aroused tip. Her fingers found its way to his hair, and she heard him hiss when she scraped his scalp with her nails. He smirked and made her groan with desire as his teeth toyed with her perky nipple. "f**k me, Omkara..." she whispered, and he entered her with a single, clean thrust. He had her moaning and gasping for the rest of the night.

Wee hours of morning had her staring at his sleeping form. She ran her fingers on his cheek and watched him smile lazily in his sleep. She then touched his palm, and ran the tip of her finger on the reddish art of the name designed with henna; "Ri" it read; a shorter version of his fiance's name. She smiled sadly to herself while a lone tear slipped off her eye. Today was the last time she would see him. She hadn't told him, but she wouldn't return to his bed ever again. And the thought of her sleeping with someone else made her feel disgusted, for reasons best known to her. Neither would he be able to find her at her house.

In fact, she would leave this line of work forever, and go far away where no one knew her. Her ticket to Lucknow had been booked, and her bags had been packed. She knew she would probably be chopped to death if her pimp ever learned about her plan to escape. So, she'd taken help of a man she'd known earlier; a man named Dandi, who'd paid for her service in the past, but couldn't proceed to do anything beyond crying over the woman who dumped him, and had ended up wailing his sob story to her throughout the night, despite paying her for more. She'd laughed about it often, and had teased him about it too when he'd visited her thereafter. But she could see he loved his woman too much to even lay a finger on another woman. And so, he'd become more of a brother to her, visiting her at times that were off "business", unknown to her pimp. Dandi had gladly offered to have her luggage left at his house, and she would leave the dingy shack she came to call as her home, for years, under the pretext of satisfying a rich customer at his house.

She rose from the bed, letting her sheets fall to the floor, and walked to the washroom for a bath, washing off his traces off of her for the last time. As tears fell off her eyes, she scrubbed herself hard, to try to forget the way his fingers and lips had traced and caressed her body. When she saw her skin turn red under the shower, she knew she'd had enough. Exiting the bathroom, she noticed him still sleeping, like he would be every morning when she left his place, only to have him back at her house to pick her up every night. Only this time, he wouldn't find her again. She saw the envelope of cash lying next to her clothes as usual. She chuckled humourlessly, picked her clothes to dress herself up, and unlike other mornings, she left the envelope behind, next to his wallet.

Wearing her clothes, she bent down to kiss his cheek, and whispered a goodbye against his forehead, after inhaling the fragrance of his hair. This fragrance, she would let it stay in her senses till she breathed her last. She pulled away when her conscience reminded her of who she was and her harsh reality- A wh*re who couldn't afford the luxury of love! With a sigh and a painful smile, she walked out of the door, out of his house and out of his life, without a glance behind.

***

The incessant ringing of his phone woke him up. He turned to look at the cold, empty space next to him, and finding it empty like every other morning, he sighed and then answered the call. It was Shivaay, who enthusiastically said, "Guess who's getting married today!!!" Omkara smiled as his fingers ran across the pillow next to his, "I am, Shivaay..." he said in a sombre tone. "C'mon O, show some enthusiasm..." Rudra chirped through the speaker. "By the way, how was your bachelor night?" Shivaay asked teasingly, and before Omkara responded, Rudra clicked his tongue and said in a displeased tone, "Om chased the stripper away and drove back to his home!" Shivaay and Rudra continued to tease Omkara, while Omkara's gaze focused on something else. The envelope of cash that was untouched. "I'll talk to you guys later." Om said, as Shivaay and Rudra teased him about blushing while diverting the topic.

Hours later, Omkara found himself at the dingy house, again. He was due to get married in two hours, and even when he left his house decked up in that beige designer sherwani, his brothers had tried stopping him, in vain. Right now, he stood in front of the door, staring at the huge lock. A neighbouring woman had even offered to satisfy him better than the one he'd come looking for, but the offer did not seem interesting to him. Walking to the house of the obese pimp, he demanded to know where the woman he'd come looking for had disappeared. The pimp looked equally appalled when she learned that her most beautiful seductress had gone missing. Ordering the men to break down the door of her house, she'd seen the house empty, with none of her belongings in it. "Find her." the pimp had commanded to the men, not before Omkara barking an order to not lay a finger on her, much to the former's chagrin.

"He isn't picking the call..." Shivaay said in panic. It had been three hours, and the weeping bride who was seated at the mandap began to lose hope of her runaway groom ever returning. "I'll call the police, to see if any accidents..." Tej Singh Oberoi said, leaving the rest of the sentence incomplete, causing Jhanvi to collapse on the floor on her knees in fear for the safety of her son. The guests began to whisper among themselves. Most of them began to walk out of the venue. The sacred fire had died out. The bride was asked to get up from the mandap by her father. The wedding was called off. But, there was still no sign of Omkara.

***

She sat at the bench of the railway station, looking at her toe nails painted in red, and smiled while reminiscing the night he'd painted her toes. A foot fetish was new to her, but so was gentleness and care. She'd remembered telling him how she couldn't "service" him that night since she was on her period. He hadn't left, neither had he taken the money back he'd already paid her; instead that was the first time he had brought her over to his own humble apartment. That was the night she had learnt how he had become a self-made billionaire through his passion for art. She would never forget how they'd talked through the night over several cups of hot chocolate and marshmallows. That was the first time she'd seen him laugh without any inhibition; the laughter wrinkles at his eyes made him all the more attractive. He'd asked her for her name, and she'd called herself Anamika, with a mischievous smirk. She smiled remembering his smile, when he'd realized the meaning of the name was literally "a person without a name." He'd known that in her line of work, giving out any personal detail was frowned upon. And somewhere, for some reason, the fact that she hadn't trusted him enough to give out her name had made him visibly uncomfortable.

She sighed when she heard the train. As she stood up to pick her bag, she felt that bubbling sensation in her chest. He had to be around. And her heart was right. He was standing a few feet away, looking at her in shock. Next to him were the men from the pimp's brothel. She looked at him with a hurt expression on her face, wondering if he had brought them along to drag her back into that hell. As one of the men took a step ahead, he held his hand up, forbidding them to touch her. Without a word, Omkara held her hand in his right one, and dragged her aluminium trunk in his left one, and walked out of the station, leaving the men dumbfounded after instructing them with a hefty sum of money that they never saw him or met the woman with him.

He threw the trunk in the backseat of his car and threw her in the passenger seat. Without a word, he got behind the wheel and stepped on the gas, driving them to a place he should've taken her long back. She'd tried to make a conversation in vain. He'd reached the Oberoi Mansion and pulled her along. The lights of the mansion were still burning, but the rest of the decorative lights were out. "What the hell!" Tej Singh Oberoi roared as he saw Omkara walking hand in hand with a girl who looked nothing less than a... could it be that the rumours of his affair with a prostitute was right, all along? "What's all this nonsense, Om?" Shivaay spoke, and Om refused to answer his brother. Walking straight to his mother, he held the woman's hand tight, "Mom, I love her." The slap that followed and the red imprint it left on his cheek made everyone gasp.

"An Oberoi, with this low life?" Jhanvi questioned, as if breathing fire. "O, what's wrong with you?" Rudra chimed in, shocked beyond words. "Is this what your late night consignment was?" Shivaay asked, with an accusatory glance at him. Pinky too said something so derogatory, that he was ashamed to even repeat it in his mind. Amidst all of this, he failed to notice the look on the face of the woman whose hand he'd clasped so tightly. Feeling her grip loosen in his hold, he turned to look at her, only to find herself looking at him in a broken manner. Shaking her head in a no, pleading him in silence not to go against his family for her sake, she tried to release her hand. His grip only tightened, and when she looked into his eyes, he found her looking at her with a silent plea. She stopped fighting.

He walked out of the Mansion, with his head held high, still holding the hand of the woman in his, after Tej Singh Oberoi gave him an ultimatum between the Oberoi title and the woman. He denounced the title, and everything that came with being an Oberoi. Shivaay and Rudra kept convincing him to not make hasty decisions. He paid no heed. As he sat in his car, with the love of his life next to him, he entwined his fingers with hers and kissed her knuckles.

"What's next?" she asked as she felt his lips pepper soft kisses on her wrist. "Next?" he smiled, "Omkara weds Anamika..." he said with a grin. She pouted; it didn't sound right. "No..." she said, causing Omkara to frown. "It's Omkara weds Gauri..." she said in a shy whisper. "Gauri?" he said raising a brow, elated at how perfect her real name sounded with his. "Gauri Kumari Sharma..." she said with pride, "paanchvi paas from Bareilly!"

Omkara's heart ached, knowing she had to give up her education to endure hardships. There was still so much to know about her, and he knew he had a lifetime for it. He frowned suddenly, and shook his head, "Not Gauri Kumari Sharma..." the smile on her face dimmed slightly, but immediately lit up when he said, "It's Mrs. Gauri Omkara Singh!" The pride in his eyes reflected in hers too, even though he conveniently omitted the surname. He drove straight to the temple and married her right away.

No doubt, he carried her over the threshold of his apartment, and without any delay, gave her the wedding night she deserved. She had spent so many nights there, yet this night had felt different. Maybe it was because it wasn't just any man whom she was rendering her services to; tonight and for every other night to follow till her last breath, it was and would be her husband who'd make love to her. Both of them had misty eyes as he'd made love to her in the gentlest manner, worshipping every inch of her body with kisses and caresses. And when he'd collapsed, exhausted, in her arms, she felt her eyes well up again. This time, they were tears of joy. Her prince from the fairy tale had finally come to rescue her.

The next morning brought all sorts of headlines about how Omkara had run away from his own wedding, from his rich bride and into the arms of a wh*re. "Stop reading that, Gauri!" he growled, both of them still in bed, while snatching the paper from her hands, when he saw her eyes well up at the word. The world had already degraded her with names, and it only pained Omkara to see her hurting herself by going through it over and over again.

She watched him stare at the ceiling, contemplating on some thought. She ran her finger across his lower lip, and when he looked at her staring at him with a small smile, his features softened. "Your lower lip twitches when you're angry or upset..." she said, and he smiled immediately, kissing her finger on his lip. Pulling her into a hug, he sighed against her forehead, relishing how perfect she felt.

"Om, what's next?" she asked him with a smile, leaning her head against his chest. "Anything you say..." he replied, bending down and pressing his lips against her temple. "Babies..." she said in a hesitant tone. "Babies? I thought it would be just the two of us for a few years, having some wild crazy sex!" She hit his chest with a soft giggle and hugged him tighter, "Wild crazy sex, then we'll have a baby, and then some more wild crazy sex for the rest of our life" Omkara pulled away and grinned, "Then I better take the chance before your priority shift..." He sealed her lips with his and silenced her laughter.

***

Do leave your comments!