OS in progress: Diwali at Khanna's - Page 21

They began to burn, flames lapping at them, languid fingers caressing, stroking, enveloping as arms and lips and tongues collided in a symphony of sensation. Reveling in the touch and taste of each other, lips capturing each other; not lightly, not cautiously, but strongly, dynamically, with enough passion to consume them both, only to be reborn again.

He buried his fingers in the fall of her silken hair, tangling them, as his other arm snaked around her waist and pulled her up, crushing her to him. Their mouths dipped in and out of each other, wanting to taste, to devour, to give till forever. Her small hands cupped his face, memorizing the strong lines and curves of his neck, his jaw, his ears, his unruly hair. Salt mixed in with their feverish kisses; bitter evidence of the mutual pain which fueled the fire that was latent in them, for all this while.

He broke their most passionate, most desperate kiss, though he thought he was going to die from the pain of separation from the soft texture, the taste that was Ragini. He did nothing, said nothing, just rested his forehead against hers, breathing in unison as they lay together, her small legs straddling him. The air, charged with fire and glowing radiance, permeated the darkness of the room, the furniture, the pathos of the moments before, banishing their demons that slunk back before the seraphic light of their passion.

**