Posted:
For mini-me, who talked me out of writing a TaBhi version and because I love her. And to Donny, who I would happily let set my TaBhi drafts on fire and because she wanted something new to read.
Nishani
an AbhiGya OS by -mina-
THE END
Thank you for reading!
Please like and comment.
My fic list can be found at my KKB Fic Index.
nishani = mark
inke nishani = his marks
shehenshah = emperor
begum = queen
dasi = slave girl
Nishani
an AbhiGya OS by -mina-
That day, Pragya did her usual inventory during her morning shower. The sweet sting of the hot water drew her attention to every mark Abhi had left, even the ones she couldn't see. And especially the ones she hadn't even realized were there.
He'd been in one of his wilder moods last night. Along with the usual love bites along her neck, there were hand prints on her shoulders and on her waist. He'd made a large hickey on her inner thigh, and her breasts were rubbed red by his stubble.
An arc of half-crescents near her left elbow showed where his nails had dug into her skin as he'd pinned her arm behind her back. Darkening bruises circled her wrists, and his square-faced platinum ring had left a scratch on her forearm. She had no way to account for what he had done to create sore patches on her back, but the warm water sluicing down the tender skin confirmed that somehow he had left traces there too.
She made sure not to chafe herself with her towel as she dried off her body. Ever since starting to have sex with Abhi, she'd had to add ten minutes to her morning routine to account for the extra time it took to use her towel gently.
She'd already picked out one of her oldest anarkalis to wear for the day. The softness of the worn cotton would be soothing against her skin, and the long sleeves would cover up all of inke nishani on her arms. She could pin her dupatta high to hide the splotches on her neck, and she'd wear her hair down to mask the rest.
She had to attend an award function with Abhi that evening. She'd been planning to wear a new half-net sari that Aaliya had sent from Delhi, but considering the previous night's activities a suit would be a better choice. At the back of her closet there was a high-necked anarkali with glitzy embroidery that would probably suit the occasion. She made a mental note to dig that out in the afternoon so she could press it before wearing it.
Her day passed in the usual routine of household chores and keeping Daadi company. Just after serving afternoon chai to Daadi and Taiji,, she had to answer the door to receive a parcel.
To her surprise, it was addressed to her. The plain white box bore the logo of Andy's shop, and with growing curiosity she took it upstairs to find out what was inside
She set the box on her bed and went looking for scissors to cut the twine. As she approached the night table, she noticed that her indicator on her phone was flashing, so she picked it up to check for new messages.
3:17 PM Sry fgt 2 mtn andys sndg ur outfit 4 2nite. ill bring jwlry ;)
The text was from Abhi, and at least it explained the box. It was just like him to forget to mention something like this until the last minute. No matter how many times she explained it to him, he didn't understand her need to plan ahead.
Finally she found the scissors and opened the box. Shimmering green fabric greeted her eyes, and she eagerly lifted out the folded yards to confirm that it was a sari.
The fabric was only semi-sheer, so she wouldn't feel too self-conscious wearing it. She'd have to find a way to drape it to cover the handprint on her waist, but that shouldn't be impossible.
Then she looked in the box again and found the blouse. To her dismay, it was a halter-neck, adorned with sequins and and beadwork across the bust that demanded a narrow-pleated pallu to show off the detailing. Even worse, it was practically backless.
If she wore this, almost all of Abhi's little marks would be on display to the world.
She decided to try it on right away in the hopes that she could figure out a drape that would cover what needed to be covered. She stood in front of the vanity mirror and tried several formal styles, but eventually she had to resort to improvisation. She told herself that as Abhi the rockstar's wife she didn't need to worry about people mocking her for an unconventional style. She almost believed it, too.
When Abhi walked in, she was attempting to wrap her pallu across her back and down both shoulders. It was a grandmotherly style that looked ridiculous with the high-fashion blouse and sari, and she frowned in frustration as she tried to think of what else she could try.
"What's this, already getting dressed? Since when does my wife start getting ready three hours early?" Abhi closed the door behind him and approached her, his familiar mocking grin turning up the corners of his mouth.
Pragya turned to face him and huffed in exasperation. "How many times do need to I tell you to give me fair warning? If I knew I was going to have to wear something from Andy tonight, I would've known to control you better last night."
"Control me better? What's that supposed to mean?" Abhi met her glare with a raised eyebrow, and crossed his arms as he waited for her answer.
Instead of trying to explain, Pragya just let her pallu slip. She hadn't yet pinned the sari anywhere, so the material slid straight to the ground, leaving her only half-dressed.
Abhi whistled in appreciation, apparently enjoying the show. But then he finally noticed why her skin shouldn't be exposed, and he swore in surprise.
"Damn it, I did all that?" He came closer and gently reached for her arm. He ran his fingers lightly over the fading but still visible nail prints. His frown deepened as he examined the bruising on her shoulder.
Pragya cleared her throat. "That's not even the worst." She turned to show him her back. "I don't even know how these happened," she told him.
"Maybe when I had your back against the closet door..." he mused, letting his fingertips drift along the sore places she couldn't see. "Baby, I'm sorry. I didn't know -"
"It's fine," Pragya insisted, turning around to face him. She set her hands on his chest and grinned up at him. "The only problem is I can't wear this blouse, or people will get the wrong idea." She raised her eyebrows comically to let him know what she thought about that.
"Or maybe the right idea," Abhi muttered, his eyes still looking troubled. "I feel like I shouldn't be allowed to do that to you."
"I think we agreed a long time ago that I get to decide what you're allowed to do to me," Pragya reminded him with a soft laugh. "So stop looking so tragic. If I had a problem with this I would have stopped you a long time ago."
"Would you? Could you?"
Pragya didn't like the self-reproach she could read in Abhi's gaze. He got like this sometimes, when some trivial thing made him think he was too rough with her. He seemed to think that because she had no experience before him, she couldn't handle his appetites in bed. She was generally able to disprove that, but he still had a tendency to send himself into guilty fits if he thought he was overwhelming her.
She answered firmly, "Of course I could." She slid her arms around his neck and came closer to him. "If I said 'don't take me against the wall' or 'don't hold my wrist so tight,' you'd have listened, wouldn't you?"
Abhi's arms closed around her waist and he started to caress her back softly. His touch on her bare skin was immediately distracting, and Pragya had to struggle to focus on his next words.
"Well, yes. But could you have said it? When we're in the middle of things am I too - too demanding?"
Pragya wanted to roll her eyes, but she knew that Abhi's anxieties required gentle handling. She replied patiently. "Don't I tell you when you are?"
Finally Abhi's frown dissolved into a more familiar smirk. I don't know. I don't remember when you tell me no. I'm just always amazed that you say yes to so many things."
Pragya let her fingertips wander up the side of his neck and coyly avoided his eyes. "I said no to being blindfolded, remember. And I made you untie my wrists that time because I didn't like it." She swiped her thumb across his lips and concluded, "I never let you hold my legs up as long as you want because my thighs get tired."
She met his gaze again then, and she was happy to see that he was looking more relaxed.
He playfully nipped at her thumb, and when she snatched her hand back, he took her chin in his own hand. "Right. Ok. So you'll tell me next time? I don't want to be leaving you with bruises and scratches like this. I hate to think of you walking around in pain all day just because I'm a damn brute."
"Uff ho! I've not been in pain. And I told you, this wouldn't be a problem, except for the blouse."
Then, because she was tired of the repetitive argument, Pragya nudged her jaw against his palm. He took the hint and bent forward to kiss her.
She rose up on her toes to be closer to him, pressing against his hard chest. She let him lead the kiss, as he usually did, and she opened her mouth to him when his tongue traced her lips. He tasted of coffee and heat and Abhi, and she could feel her blood start to sing as his wicked hands explored the edges of her almost-backless blouse.
That reminded her that she still had a problem to solve, and with reluctance she broke the kiss. She stepped away before Abhi could pull her back to him, and stooped to gather the sari from the floor.
Abhi silently watched her attempt again to drape the sari for full coverage. He shook his head as she fiddled with a loose pleating style. Finally he said, "Let's just send it back to Andy. He can add sleeves and it will be alright."
"Arre! Aap bhi naa," Pragya scoffed impatiently. "There's not enough time for that. The event is at seven."
"Andy will find time. I'll pay him enough for that. And tell him that next time he should make more than one style of blouse for each sari."
Typical of him to think money was the solution. Pragya pointed out, "But if he adds sleeves, it'll ruin the whole look. The point is to show off his work, right? I should probably just wear something else and apologize -"
"No, you'll wear this," Abhi insisted, "I brought the matching jewellery, remember? And that's what people will pay attention to, not the blouse."
He picked up a parcel Pragya hadn't noticed before, and took out a red velvet jewellery case. He opened it to show her something so dazzling that she had to blink before she understood what she was seeing.
In the centre of the box there was a pair of gold jhumkas, delicately filigreed with colourful enamelled accents and a tear-drop emerald hanging from each earring. They were pretty enough, but the accompanying necklace was undeniably breathtaking.
A heavy gold centerpiece with a floral motif featured huge marquise cut emeralds offset by what looked like a hundred small diamonds of various sizes. An adjustable dori completed the necklace, but even that was wrapped all-round with gold thread. The design was antique but the finishing was the height of modern ostentation, and Pragya's main thought was that the piece was just unforgivably luxe.
"I - I can't possibly wear that," Pragya protested, staring-wide eyed at the glittering offering. She made no move to take it from Abhi.
"You have to wear it." He stepped behind her so he could fasten the necklace around her throat. "It's a sponsorship thing. The designer works with Andy, and the jewellers need you to model everything together."
"I never agreed to be a walking billboard!" Pragya sputtered, but her objection wasn't serious. By now she was used to these little stunts.
Being a rockstar's wife meant being looked at, and while being looked at she might as well help her husband's sponsors. Heaven knew she was still no model, but all that was required was for her to wear the sponsors' gifts and smile for the cameras. And after several months of accompanying Abhi to functions, that was well within her capabilities.
Abhi gave a low whistle as he surveyed her reflection in the mirror. "Looking good, Mrs. Rockstar. The empress look suits you." He leaned to set his chin on her shoulder, and his arms circled her waist again. "Do I have time to undress you and then dress you again? I'll play shehenshah if you play begum."
"Dutt!" Pragya blushed. She set her hands on his, liking the way his palm was pressed flat to her stomach. "Definitely no time. But call Andy and warn him I'll wear a shawl with the sari, ok? I don't want to hurt his feelings."
"Hang his feelings," Abhi muttered. He pressed a kiss to her neck, and one of his hands snuck under her pallu. "I feel like taking all this off and covering you in more marks. Head to toe, what do you think?"
"I - I think -" her breath hitched as his palm molded to her breast, and she took a moment just to enjoy the feeling. Then she rallied, "I think there'll be time for that when we get back, shehenshah." She grinned and ruthlessly elbowed him away.
He stumbled back and theatrically clutched at his abdomen, play-acting as if she had stabbed him. "Dangerous woman! Maybe I'll think twice before touching you again, how about that?"
She met his gaze in the mirror. "You do that," she agreed with a grin. "But for now go away so I can get dressed in peace."
"I don't take instructions from you," Abhi declared loftily. "I'm the shehenshah. And nothing is saving you from me tonight."
"You say that as if I'm a dasi instead of your begum. I think you need to clear up the details of this fantasy," Pragya teased.
Abhi didn't answer. Instead he waved his phone in the air as if it were an imperial sceptre, and left the room to presumably call Andy.
Pragya watched him leave in the mirror. Then she lightly ran her fingers along the outrageous necklace she'd been given to wear.
Sometimes the changes in her life still surprised her. She'd wanted a simple life and a simple man, and instead she'd got a life luxurious beyond her wildest dreams and the country's only rockstar as her husband.
It was almost like she was Cinderella and he was Prince Charming.
But Cinderella probably never had to worry about finding the right shade of concealer to mask the kiss marks on her throat.
And even with his anxieties and his appetites, Pragya knew she'd choose her would-be shehenshah over any Prince Charming.
Thank you for reading!
Please like and comment.
My fic list can be found at my KKB Fic Index.
nishani = mark
inke nishani = his marks
shehenshah = emperor
begum = queen
dasi = slave girl
Cricket
Financial markets and global economy
Ishaani
621