ShivYaFF- see pg4 for last post here for those interested :)

Hi Everyone!

Ok! So Ive been asked to write some ShivYa FF and this is what I have so far. I have been so sick to death of Shivam's character in particular, so Ive turned it from a different perspective; "his" perspective- at least thats how Im opening it to begin with. Now I must warn whomever is reading this, its for ADULTS ONLY! People swear and get sexually and physically intimate in real life- so Im not one to shy away from that. If you are of a sensitive disposition then please dont read this, it does contain swearing and IF I continue to write then there will most definitely be sexually explicit stuff. I also know that someone, somewhere may read this anyway and get offended and possibly report me- so if I happen to get "temporarily banned" then whoever wants to read more, PM me and I'll send you some more!
Anyway lets see if anyone likes it first hehe 😆 it might be a load of rubbish and you guys hate it lol
Also I understand more Hindi than I speak it- so this may be slightly more westernised than you're used to, so forgive me if I havent used the correct terminologies.
I'd love your feedback! Let me know if you want more, if enough people seem to like it I may carry on. If not then hopefully other people with continue writing some FF because this crap on tv isnt doing it for me lol 😆 Princesssheena has written some awesome stuff, so if you dont enjoy this then you will definitely like her stuff!
Anyway here goes 😉

PART ONE

He looked out of their window... well it was his window now... swallowing back the bile in his throat. The sun had long ago set and now the only remains of yet another catastrophic day were the blinking stars in the black sky, almost mocking him from their distance. His head was banging and his heart, well his heart felt like it was clawing out of his chest. Whether it was to get away from himself or to get to her he didn't know anymore. Why was she being like this? He swallowed the pain back so far down that he almost banished it, almost. No matter how much of a bas***d he was being, she wouldn't go. Didn't she understand? This was the only way, this was the only damned way he could get her out of here and make sure she was happy. He felt the sting of self-hatred in his tired eyes, his chest thudding hollowly at the memory of her tear stained face. How many times had he berated her now? Humiliated her and insulted her like she was a stain in his life? How many times, in how many ways...and still... Gods... still she clung to him. What the hell had he turned her into? What had his family turned her into? This... this person she had become, always apologising, constantly begging for forgiveness... f**k... the sheer amount of tears she had shed alone... thiswasn't her. His Riya was vibrant...full of life and smiles... her teasing alone would send shivers down his spine. Why the hell wouldn't she just go! Wasn't he making it clear enough for godsakes?! How much longer did he have to torture himself by treating her like his worst enemy, just to get her out of Shanti Sadan? Marrying her had been a colossal f**king mistake. I never should have brought her into this nightmare! She would have been better off being scorned by society after refusing to marry his cousin rather than live this hell. Shivam lifted his arm, the hard muscles in his biceps sore after the heavy workout session he put himself through only moments ago; it hadn't worked, it hadn't banished her from his exploding brain. He brushed his fingers through his black hair, pulling harshly for a moment before letting his arm drop in defeat and frowning painfully as he closed his eyes. I miss you baby. He clenched his teeth, hard enough to shatter bone until he forced the tender sentiment to the black pit of his soul. No, don't go there... she wanted the divorce and she was rightto want it after the way you screwed up. It didn't matter if he missed her; she deserved better god dammit. I had told her that my family is messed up... would she listen? No. Riya... why did you have to fall in love with me? Don't you understand I have a duty to this family? I can't leave... I cant just walk out... I can't leave my mother here alone with Dadi. He hated that he felt this overpowering sense of duty towards his mother... he had grown up, feeling impotent and utterly useless watching his father treat her more like the house help than his wife. He had watched his dadi laugh at her, scorn her and berate her to her face and his mother being the simple woman she was took it, swallowed it like every insult hurled her way was rather a blessing. No matter how many times Nimmi or himself had tried to protect her or speak up for her, she wouldn't hear of it. And he didn't know what the hell to do; this was his mother. And now... now he didn't even know what the hell had gotten into her either. She was becoming mean, cold... cruel even. Some of the things he had heard her say to Riya... God... I should have intervened but Ive obviously lost my damned mind.

No... he decided long ago to let everything play its course. Anything that would get Riya to leave sooner, the better... and if that included his mother's cruel taunts then so be it. It was a necessary evil. It would hurt the woman he loved for a while maybe... a few years at the most... but he would eat himself alive knowing how much he had hurt her if only to save her from herself, from a life with him, with these people.

He had overheard them that night, their low mutterings drawing him closer to the large room after the ruckus had calmed down and he had been making his way to the reception room. The door was just barely ajar, but his aunt's voice was shrill and just loud enough to hear the first few words and then he had been hooked. "Amma... what happened to sticking to the plan? Why are you not tied up in Riya's house... the police would have arrested her by now!" He had watched Dadi shaking her head in disgust, her response shrivelling his throat before he realised he had stopped breathing. "That stupid girl came lolloping in with a sword, didn't she! Threatening your useless goons with it until they ran away... you will see how I will get her. I wont let her get away with this, I want her out of my home and I will do anything to get what I want. Just watch me- I am Shanti Devi and no one crosses me, not even this modern bahuria" she ha spat out in vitriolic hatred. He hadn't been able to listen anymore, backing away so quickly that his back jarred against the wall, his teeth rattling for a moment. His heart could have pounded its way straight out of his throat and down to hell, he was sure of it. It was at that point that he realised that everything that had anything to do with Riya being blamed was all orchestrated by his dadi and aunt. He should have been shocked but the truth is he wasn't. Disgusted and revolted, yes... but not shocked. Not after the things he had known both of them to do since he had been a little boy; he knew their true colours, he wasn't ignorant of them... but he looked the other way most of his life to keep the peace. He hated himself for it, the way it made him feel so small and powerless... but what the hell was he supposed to do? His father practically worshipped his Dadi like she was the goddess herself as did his mother... one word from him and his dad would have surely kicked him out, leaving his mother and sisters without anyone to look out for them. Leaving hadn't been an option; even if he had decided to take his mother away she would surely have rather killed herself than leave his father and dadi. He couldn't risk it... and so he had spent his life grinding his jaw and burying the pent up anger until he had the occasional opportunities to lash out and pummel someone to a pulp. People might have thought he had anger issues; that he was uncontrollable and insane... but no one knew the truth. No one knew that the real person...people... he wanted to throttle was his dadi and aunt. And maybe on occasion his dad; the man surely could have played a more present role in their lives but he cast his responsibilities off to his dadi, giving her all the power over his family. Yes, he was angry... full of rage infact and yet he had no one to vent it to, no one he could shake some damned sense into. And so if he flipped out on the odd stranger then so be it, it was that or he kill half his family in their sleep. And so here he was, looking out into the blackness in his cozy room knowing full well that the woman he loved was downstairs, probably sleeping on the cold floor yet again. Yes, he hated himself. But he had made the decision even before he found out what he had suspected all along; that Riya hadn't been to be blamed for any of it. Well... he was still angry at her for not telling him about Nimmi swapping places with Preeti and that his idiot of a sister had run out on her own wedding... but even so, he couldn't fully blame her. He had been angry and ratty for months now; every time she had come to him with something he had practically blew up in her face. Was it any bloody wonder that she didn't confide in him? But for godsakes... why didn't she go to his father if not him? The whole thing had been a mess and the bitter truth was that he hadn't had his damned head screwed on. This decision he had made, the one he had promised he would keep to, he had made a while before he received the divorce papers. Practically since they had been married she had been miserable. He had promised to support her and be her rock no matter what... and he had screwed that up too. When he had seen his mother break down into a shambles of emotion and pain when he had supported Riya that one time he had been shocked. What if she had made herself ill? What if after everything she had been through in her life, seeing him support his wife over her would finally make her snap? He knew she was wrong to think that way; he knew that she was being selfish even if she didn't realise it. But this was his mother, the one and only person who even through her faults was the only elder in his life to show him affection, to hold him and feed him with love. His father certainly didn't seem to give a damn about him, even suspecting him of things so damning as theft- and that too from his own dadi. No... the only human being who showed him a sliver of affection was his mother. He couldn't just forsake her like that, he couldn't just cast her feelings aside as if she hadn't been the one whose lap he placed his head on when he had felt tired or sad as boy. And so since that day, something had contracted inside of him. Even though he knew she was wrong to take all of his affection and attention, so much so even from his own wife... he hadn't known how to handle it. He could only ask Riya to try and understand, to try and see the strange ways of his family. And she did... he could see that she had been trying and God, he loved her so much for it. For trying to integrate herself into what was essentially chaos. For a while things had been going well... he even thought they were getting closer, more intimate. Even now, after everything he couldn't believe they hadn't consummated their marriage. I mean how f**ked up is that? What the hell was wrong with him? I'm a man for hell's sake... not some twelve year old boy! He couldn't help but feel the humiliation in his bones even as he longed for her; God, her skin alone... so soft, like hot silk. And yet... still... every single f**king time they had even come close to anything intimate,something interrupted. They would have a fight or dadi would start her moaning and whining and bitching about some thing or the other that Riya did wrong... not to mention his utterly irresponsible sister gallivanting off with gods knew who and advertising it to the entire village on the radio. It was one thing after the other and the mood was so far from romantic that he may as well have pledged celibacy- at least his dick would have accepted the fact that he wasn't allowed to be with a woman. But no... they had been married for a year, sleeping next to her, feeling her warmth close to him... the smell of her floral perfume and her hair. And the closest he had got to her were a few secret kisses here and there. Other than that she may have wrapped her arms around him at night and his around her... but even when he felt his own lust from the closeness of her body, he kept his distance, not wanting to frighten her or rush her. She had been so tired all the time, waking up early to cook and then going to the office only to come home and do more chores... well suffice to say he didn't have it in him to wake her up in the middle of the night. He was pretty damned sure she didn't have those dark circles around her eyes before they were married. God... the one time he had offered to help her and make her some tea after work his mother had jumped down his throat. Whatthe hell had gotten into her anyway? He was sure dadi was feeding her all sorts of verbal poison... and if that was the case then him trying to set his mother straight would have only added fuel to the fire. So he had kept mum, feeling more like a damned mummy's boy than a husband. The constant and persistent feelings of humiliation, self loathing and impotence to do anything of his own accord had started eating away at his nerves, making him argumentative and angry. He was miserable, torn in a hundred different directions. And guess who he took it out on? That's right... his gorgeous wife... the woman who from before day one had been trying to please his damned family. No... he had been right from the very beginning... he shouldn't have married her. She was a flower, wilting under the scrutiny and hatred of his entire family. And he was the one adding kerosene laced fuel to that fire. Yes, he had made the decision before all of this disaster that he would start to drive her away... if she left of her own accord then at least she would feel like she had been the one to make the decision- at least she would have some control of her life left after this hellfire. But when he had actually received divorce papers... God... his heart had imploded in on itself as it fell into his stomach. He had already been at his wits end after the way he had thrown her out of the house, the blind red rage had taken over everything and he had had enough of the drama and constant fighting amongst everyone. Riya was surely the most miserable anyone could have been and somewhere in the back of his mind he was sure, at least if she was with her dad and staying with him for a few days then she could gather her confidence back. Yes he had been angry with her for withholding the truth and he may have been confused as to the reason he threw her out... not knowing if it was for her benefit or if it was because he didn't have a choice anymore. But one thing he was sure of- it damn well wasn't for his benefit. Even as he had watched her tear stained face walk away with her luggage he had felt a moment of sheer panic to take her far away from this place, to go with her and let these idiots screw up their lives. But no... he had heard his sister and mother crying and for all their faults in the whole matter, Preetis life was over. His mother was even more vulnerable... and if Riya had stayed a moment longer he feared what the hell else they would do to her. It had been for the best, he had been sure of it even if he had been confused... even if he had been angry with her as he had wanted to protect her at the same time. But divorce papers? No... he hadn't f**king expected that. And yet as he had held the paperwork in his trembling hands, his heart feeling like a lead weight in his tight belly he saw red again. This time the rage fully directed at himself... afterall, hadn't he been the one to throw her out like she was an animal? Hadnt he been the one to hurt her the mos?... She had said... so many damned times that she could take anyone hurting her or insulting her, but not if it came from him. He had practically nailed their relationship in the coffin himself. Even so... it hurt. It hurt that she would file for a divorce... couples got into fights, they got angry and said things so hurtful that they wonder if they could come back from it... but they do... they figure it out somehow; he had seen it for himself. It was true; he hadn't been to see her or check on her but honestly there was too much to deal with at home to leave and he at least knew she would be safe from their taunts. He hadn't tried to phone her either, not sure what to say after the way he had spoken to her and hoping that more time would be best before he approached her to talk. But before he could do a damned thing she had sent those papers. He had been so shocked, so sick to his stomach and so goddamned angry that that strange lawyer and his weird getup had barely registered. The asshole didn't even seem to know what he was talking about and it only enraged him further that she hadn't even bothered to hire someone with a modicum of professionalism. Did he mean that little to her? He knew... god he knew he had been the god of hypocrites to think that way... he damn well deserved her hatred and resentment... but divorce? Hurt hadn't even begun to describe his feelings. He didn't ask questions, he didn't bother to check out the dunderhead of a lawyer with those ridiculous scales probably trying to impress them or something... he hadn't even stopped to consider that she hadn't even signed the papers yet. Maybe she had been testing him, maybe she had wanted to see how far he would go without putting her own name on those papers first? He had regretted it the moment his pen left the page, but as usual his anger blinded him and it was too damned late. Well... hadn't he got what he wanted?

Shivam clenched his fists, digging his short nails into his palm until it hurt as he continued to look out into nothingness. He had wanted her out of Shanti Sadan... where she could find herself again and live her life the way she had been meant to. Not suffocating here day after day. He had got what he wanted... so why had he felt so numb and empty? It hadn't mattered that he got what he wanted; nothing could change the fact that he was completely in love with her. And yet he was powerless to show her just how much, to express it to her the way she deserved. It was such a damned clich... having to choose between his family and the love of his life. But it was a true clich and the fact still also remained that he couldn't, just couldn't abandon his mother... not after what he grown up watching her go through day in and day out with his dadi and aunt lording over her. And Riya... well no matter how much he adored her, she would never be respected and treated the way she deserved by his family. Couldn't she see? He had to let her go. He would let her go... for her, he would do it. She would hate him for the rest of his life... but he would rather that than see her slowly whittle away and turn into his mother one day far into the future. It seemed that his fate was to live alone, unmarried and taking care of his mother for the rest of his life. He had known this...even when she had held his hand in the restaurant over a year ago professing her love for him... he had known even then that he wouldn't be able to be a husband and a son... not with a demented family like his. And so this was the result of ignoring his instinct and his common sense. He had hurt her, broken her even... but he had to hope that she would move on and forget about him; he wasn't worth her time. Not after everything.

Shivam knew full well that he had been laying his anger on thick. He knew full well that each time he looked at her with hate in his eyes, that each time he scoffed at her or shouted at her that her beautiful heart ripped apart a little more and more. She was looking so exhausted these days, the utterly ridiculous sari making her look ten years older even if she was the cutest thing in the world. God... she was adorable to him; she might have looked ridiculous to the rest of the world... but to him it represented her loyalty to him, her love for him. He couldn't understand why she had come storming back into Shanti Sadan so soon after she had filed for the divorce; a tiny particle of him had hoped that she had simply regretted her decision but even then he had stamped the thought out, not allowing himself to hope anything before his resolve to push her away wavered. However, he couldn't help but wonder now, knowing full well that in hindsight the lawyer had looked fake and that she hadn't signed the papers before sending it that maybe...more likely probable that this was all his aunt's and dadi's doing. The thought sickened him; nothing else made any sense. Why the hell would she send divorce papers only to force herself back in to Shanti Sadan?... and that too bringing a lawyer with her... one that looked a hell of a lot more real than the previous one. There could be no other reason than that his own dadi had planned to get them divorced and she had achieved it with flying colours. Well... he had soon realised that it was for the best. Riya needed to get the hell out of here... this place, these people...him being unable to give her what she needs... it would break her, destroy her. And he wouldn't let that happen, not for anything. And so he had spent every waking moment making her feel small and unwanted, insignificant to him. If only she knew... but that was the problem wasn't it? If she got even an inkling that he loved her back, she would move the heavens itself to stay in Shanti Sadan. To get her rights back. But she just didn't get it... as long as she lived here, no matter if she remained married to him or not, these people hated her. They had started hating her long before things had started to go badly wrong. When he had overheard his dadi and aunt practically admitting to framing Riya and her dad, he had wanted nothing more than to go in there and confront them; lay their sins out infront of everyone in the family. But he hadn't done a thing... even in those few moments of rage he had realised that now more than ever Riya needed to get away from his family. Her own father had been so close to being imprisoned and still she had defended his family; she had gone insane surely. And yet deep down he knew she had done it for him and only him. He needed to stop this and the only way was to keep driving her away, keep hurting her until she couldn't take it anymore. When she finally would leave he could crawl into a hole of despair and hopelessness and rot there for the rest of his life... but for now, he would blast out every insult and hate filled word at the woman he loved. He would get her out of Shanti Sadan.

Shivam stalked silently to their bed... his bed, he reminded himself bitterly and buried his head into the pillow. He was sure he caught a drift her feminine scent, somehow still lingering in their bedsheets... or was it that he simply would never get her out of his head? Afterall, she was a permanent residence in his battered heart.

****

Please refer to "Part Two" for continuation if you enjoyed this :)

Right! So here goes again. It was way too long to add to my original post and it wouldnt let me, so Ive just created a new one here. It continues on from Part One.
Again- for ADULTS ONLY as it contains adult language and sexual/intimate situations etc so please dont continue reading if these things bother you :)

PART TWO

She shifted her face away from the hard floor, the chill emptying into her bones more from his hatred than the cold tiles. She couldn't remember the last time he had looked at her with warmth, never mind with love and affection; those seemed to just be memories she found herself grasping onto like precious air. Even before all of this... even when he would get broody and angry she couldn't help but feel inexplicably turned on and amused. Her love for him would keep her from taking him too seriously as his gorgeous dark eyes glowered at her in frustration; his handsome and rugged face hardening in his natural masculinity. But that was before... when she knew that even in his anger he loved her, wanted her. Now his hate filled eyes cut through her worse than the sharpest knife, as if it were laced with poison and death. What was she doing here? Why was she trying anymore? She heard her own desperate sob leave her throat before hiding it away lest she wake dadi. How many times had she looked at him longingly, desperate for just a glance her way, just the smallest softening of his deep brown eyes the way he used to? But it never came; her only relief if she could call it that was the chill in his glare. Even then, god damn her, she couldn't look away... she couldn't hate him, not truly. She might have said it in anger but wasn't that just the other side of her love for him? She had heard that one couldn't hate deeply without loving deeply too, without caring so much that your heart shattered into splinters. She held onto that saying, using it as her reason to hope that his sheer hate of her only indicated his deep love for her even if he refused to acknowledge it in his anger. She knew what she looked like; desperate, weak and stupid. She knew.But what was she supposed to do? Dadi had wronged her, used her against herself in the most cruel way and in the process she had lost the only man she loved. It wasn't that she wasn't angry with him, oh she was... not for the first time did she ask herself why the hell she was trying for a man who so obviously loathed her. Why doesn't he want me? Why wont he fight for me? She swallowed back the bitter ache in her throat, her hot tears falling unimpeded onto the flat pillow beneath her head. Even as she thought the painful thoughts, she was sure the twisting pain in her cavernous chest where her heart should be would eventually just kill her. Am I so insignificant to him? Can't he see how much I need him? She felt like a heartbroken fool... she felt like a mockery of herself. Even when she had walked back into Shanti Sadan looking like Shanti Devi herself, she couldn't believe what she had been doing. She had felt stupid, desperate... but one look at Shivam and the face she missed like an ache in her soul had propelled her onwards with her plan. If she could call it a plan... she hadn't achieved anything but making more of a fool of herself in all truth. These days she felt like she was on a knife's edge, always just a hair's breadth away from packing up what little she had and walking out for good. But call it a woman's intuition, call it insanity for all she cared... one look at him and the knowledge of Shanti's truth would be enough to convince her to stay one more day and then another and another. Something wasn't right... even as he looked at her with disgust in his eyes... she couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't the whole picture she was seeing. She must be completely insane to believe that, but until she was sure in her heart beyond a shadow of a doubt that he truly loathed her she would keep trying. Even if it cost her her dignity, for that was what was happening wasn't it? For the first time in her life she was glad that her mother was not here to witness her state, it would have broken her. But then maybe... just maybe she would have never even met Shivam if her mother had lived... maybe she would have been set on a different path. It didn't matter in the end... it was what it was and she would do what she could until she simply couldn't anymore. And if her heart irrevocably broke in the process then so be it; he was the love of her life and from the moment she had set her eyes on him, his cute smile and sexy mussed up hair there had been no going back. Yes... she had been physically attracted to him at first; whowouldn't have been? But then as time went on and she watched him from the shadows of her own heart, she wanted more, to know more. He had been so quiet... keeping to himself, helpful, conscientious in his job; occasionally she would spot his athletic form playing football with the younger kids in an abandoned courtyard and her heart would clench imagining him with children of his own one day. Maybe even their children. She would never be able to pinpoint exactly when she had fallen for him; it had been so gradual and subtle but God, when it did happen it hit her out of nowhere. During the too short hours of the weekdays she would find her every sense aligned in his direction at work, as if he was a magnet and even from her small work desk at the other end of the room to him she could practically feel the heat in her cheeks all day long. She hadn't been able to stop staring, she had been sure Bunty would have alerted the police for stalking if she hadn't been such a good friend! And then at night... at night she seemed to become feverish... it was so wrong to think of him in that way but she was only human. She was sure that most women had thoughts like that, even if they would be loathe to admit it. How could she not think of his broad shoulders? Or the way his straight hair fell so sexily over his eyes as he focussed so intently on his computer screen. She hadn't been able to help thinking about his big hands, strong and clean... and if she had imagined those warm hands sliding over her bare skin, caressing her lips as his chestnut brown eyes bore into her own then so what? She was a woman, not some silly little girl who shied away... at least not from her fervent imagination in the secret hours of the night. Even if he hadn't noticed her, she was a woman of the world... she wanted him to know she existed, that she cared for him. It didn't escape her how he seemed to keep himself away from all women and not just her and she had wondered about it so many times. It was surely strange for a man who looked as good as him not to be tempted by the women who must have thrown themselves in his way; but she had cast the thought aside quickly, only thanking her lucky stars that he wasn't that kind of man. And so she and Bunty had come up with all sorts of ridiculous plans to help them bump into each other, to get her on his radar. Well, as stupid and juvenile as it had been by some miracle it had worked. He noticed her; he especially noticed her the evening she had found him angrily kicking the ball about in the rain. Her heart had pounded so hard upon seeing him that she was sure it would escape out of her throat; a cacophony of love and lust had infused her upon seeing him. His entire body was drenched, clothes plastered to every plane of defined muscle and the spikes of his black hair dripping seductively over the angry frown on his face as he breathed heavily. She could practically feel the intense emotion roiling off of him even from her vantage point and like a string being pulled from her centre she had found herself moving towards him, needing to touch him just once. She could never forget that night, staring up at him as he practically towered over her with that angry scowl she loved so much. God... she had so wanted to kiss him, she had needed to... but she had controlled herself, biting down on her tongue before she did something completely stupid. Instead she found her hand moving of its own accord, needing with everything in her to just touch him just once. She had no choice but to tell him; it was turning her insides into a melted pot of need and love not being able to express her true feelings. The tingles running up her sensitive fingers and straight into her heart and lower belly at the feel of his stubble had nearly undone her, but she revelled in the feel of him watching his angry scowl morph into something soft and tender even if they were laced with some surprise at her forwardness. She hadn't known anything else, never mind feeling the rain soaking her to her bones... she had been drowning in those eyes of his, like he was a mug of hot chocolate wrapping around her and keeping her blood heated from the outside in. The rain hadn't even registered. When she had uttered those three words to him she had been sure she heard him gasp, even through the smattering of the rain on the concrete beneath their feet. It had felt like her heart was floating between them waiting for his invitation into his own heart, but she hadn't pushed him needing only at that time for him to know how she felt.

The memory of that night was almost undoing her as she lay curled in on herself on the hard mat, her small fingers clenched into fists in the hopes that it would stem the tears some more. It was only after she came to see the truth of his family and their overly traditional ways that she understood why she had never really seen Shivam flirt with any women before she had made her feelings known. He had told her that day in the restaurant, her hands curled around his in her need to be close to him... hadn't he warned her of his family? Even going so far as to state that marriage to any woman wasn't in his destiny... at least not with a family such as his. She had shrugged it off then, believing that he was exaggerating and knowing with all her heart that if he just loved her then she could be anything he needed her to be for his family. Surely it couldn't have been that hard? She huffed in bitter silence as she remembered her naivety... but still... she wouldn't have changed her mind knowing what she knew now. This was Shivam... she couldn't imagine a life without him, not now when she had so completely fallen in love with him. She would give everything she had left and if still he didn't want her then she would have no choice but to move out of his world... to live a life of unrequited love and hollowness. But for now, even if she were grasping at straws at least she knew Shanti's truth and even if he didn't want her she would get the truth out before leaving this place... if it came to that.

She bit her lip in the darkness, unable to stop thinking about the way he had put his hands on her if only to throw her into the other room and lock the door. She knew that if she had seen another woman being treated in such a manner she would have spoken up, she would have stood up for her and yet... when it was she who was being treated as such she couldn't help but think of his hands on her. It had been so long since he had touched her, even if he had been a little rough with her she welcomed it. And with that thought she knew she had really lost her damned mind... what was becoming of her? Why was she doing this to herself?! She bit her lip harder, only able to think of the feel of his warm and slightly calloused hands over her skin as she tried to stop the tears from flowing harder. Her shoulders shook silently in her agony, the humiliation of being so desperately in love with him that she allowed these people to abuse and insult her, that she allowed him to batter her heart. She hated what she had become and yet she was helpless... fallible and broken and too in love to walk away. I love you Shivam... w-why can't you see it? I m-miss you... She broke down then giving up on biting her lip as she let the almost silent sobs seep into the floor beneath her.

After almost half an hour of torturing herself with these thoughts, she stared numbly into the darkness ahead, her view resting on the seat of dadi's swing before she tore her eyes away from it in hatred of what it represented. She was so tired, her heart and soul so weary after the unending taunts and insult to her character. And now not only had she been the recipient of Shanti's evil plans but so had her own Papaji. She clenched her fist until it hurt, not for the first time remembering how she had spoken to her own father infront of Shivam's entire family when all he had wanted to do was protect her. The guilt ripped through her even as she knew the alternative would have been to let Shivam get jailed. She couldn't have done it... her father had meant well and she so loved him for it... but to let the man she loved be jailed for something like that? No... she couldn't have done it. Yes he had locked her in that room, his anger making him lose his common sense but she had not been in there ten minutes when her father had found her inside... she had hardly been suffering for it. No... it wasn't the stupid locked room that had brought the tears to her eyes as her chest imploded... it was watching Shanti and Sarla force Chanda to sit next to Shivam, to take pictures of them like they were some happy family. The hypocrites! She hadn't been able to bear it, knowing exactly what those two women had planned for her husband... even if she suspected that he sometimes seemed to know what was going on. But still... he never really put her fears to rest the way she needed him to, only moving away when that strange girl sat next to him. How she wished that he would tell his family clearly that he was still married to her, that if nothing else he would notever be interested in Chanda. But it was just a wish... at this point she didn't know what the hell to think anymore. Afterall, didn't she find Chanda in their bedroom offering him tea even as he dressed himself? What kind of a woman would walk in on a married man still dressing himself? Even if bua-ji had begged Chanda to take tea into his room, a decent woman would never have agreed surely? Something felt off about her... but she couldn't think what and honestly she was too exhausted to care right now. When she had heard Shivam firmly ask her to leave and told her that from then on he would help himself to tea she hadn't anticipated the tears of relief that had washed over her face. The feeling had so overwhelmed her that she had almost convinced herself to believe that he loved her still, and yet that temporary hope had been almost immediately annihilated when he simply looked her with scorn and loathing yet again. He might not have wanted Chanda but he certainly didn't want her either.

I am sorry Papaji... please forgive me... please understand why I did what I did... I couldn't let him go to prison... She prayed silently to the Gods and to her father, wishing somehow that he didn't take it to heart even though she suspected she had hurt him deeply. She wished that he understood his daughter better than she could hope, that he knew she hadn't meant it the way it came out. She had been so panicked, the police officer taking his cuffs out right before her eyes that she had blurted out the first thing she could think of to make them back off. She didn't deserve a father like him... not after seeing what kind of father her other papaji was to his three children. But she was a woman madly in love, so madly in love that she had become blind with it only knowing that she didn't want the man she loved to go to jail. He had moved to hit her once upon a time, the action jolting her with pain through her heart like crisp lightening. But even then... even before his hand had connected with her skin she had seen the unmistakeable horror in his eyes. Horror at himself... disgust at himself for frightening her, for even thinking to do such a thing. She hadn't been able to shake the feeling that it had been an act... that he had done it to push her away yet again. But maybe she had just been desperate to alleviate him of such a sin, maybe he really had intended to hurt her... he had surely been angry enough. However... that look in his eyes; the pain that infused them would not allow her to truly believe it. Maybe she was being naive and thinking with her heart instead of her head... but she didn't truly believe he would intentionally hurt her... at least not physically. And so to have him jailed for locking her in a room that she could have so easily have escaped from had not been an option, not in a hundred years. He might have had a temper but he would never harm her, of that she was sure.

She felt the harsh twist in her stomach then, forcing her to curl further in on herself as the sharp pain started winding through her gut. Even though mummyji had given her enough time to cook her dinner, she had barely been able to swallow the food without wanting to throw up. She was sure she had lost weight from the number of meals she had skipped and not for the first time did she feel the bitter sting in her heart that Shivam hadn't seemed to care one way or the other. She wouldn't be able to go through the night like this; the clock on the wall told her it was only just past two in the morning as she heard the quiet chirrup of crickets in the otherwise silent background. Maybe she didn't have an appetite but her body obviously had other ideas. I should just drink some water and go to sleep... if I don't wake up early then I'll have to wait all morning to use the washroom, she thought morosely feeling like her eyelids were weighed with lead even if she couldn't sleep. Riya fumbled around in the dark, the large veil of her ridiculously billowing sari catching around her arms; in her irritation she pulled it free before checking her surroundings and when she was sure that she was alone she pulled it down and tucked it into her waist. It felt good to be free of the extra layers of material for a change; she missed the simple pleasure of sleeping in lighter clothes but since she had been forced to sleep in the open she had had little option but to live and sleep in the same stupid saris. She hated them. At least no one would see her with her uncovered blouse at this time of the night, she mused to herself before finally pulling herself up onto her feet. Her eyes had well adjusted to the almost pitch blackness by now and so she decided to forego the small candle by her side; she walked softly and barefoot towards the kitchen before gently lifting the latch and letting herself in.

The sharp resonant sound of glass shattering on the floor sounded more like an earthquake in the dead of the night. In her panic she bent down too quickly when she lost her balance and dropped her hand to the floor; she hissed in at the sudden hot pain searing through the sensitive flesh of her palm as a piece of glass no doubt broke into her skin. The unwelcome tears sprung out of her eyes even as she stared intently at the door, now convinced that the entire household would wake up and surround her yet again in their taunts. Still crouched behind the counter she held her wounded hand in the other, not knowing how the hell she was going to dress the cut properly at this hour without attracting attention to herself. She would just have to wrap it in a piece of cloth and make do until the morning. It hurt... she was afraid to think how deep the cut actually was and still she had yet to clean up her mess well enough that it didn't injure anyone else on the morrow. After she tied the makeshift knot around her hand she patted the floor gently as she looked for the larger pieces of glass when she heard the movement above her. Riya's blood froze even as her own movements did; not willing to look up she only saw a pair of feet clothed in sandals... feet she knew all too well.Oh God... why did it have to be him? She beseeched silently knowing that he would be enraged with her yet again. She wasn't surprised when she looked up to him, his face half lit by the dim moonlight now shining through the window as the clouds broke. He looked fearsome and maybe a touch more tired than angry at what or whom he had found. "I-Im sorry...I-" she had begun to explain herself, her voice sounding weak even to her own ears as the pain increased in her hand; after her heavy crying session she really didn't have the energy to listen to his hatred. She would surely break in two. She had instinctively covered her chest having not known who had interrupted her night-time blunder and even now as she shivered in the cold she couldn't help but notice his own eyes glide over her state of attire, her veil still tucked snugly into her waist. Her skin tingled involuntarily at his unusual attention to her... or at least to her body; she felt exposed to him and yet that was precisely what was making her heart race. He had interrupted her in his gruff if quiet voice, the sound of him carrying no further than the interior of the kitchen. "What are you doing here? It's the middle of the night and you're wandering around like a ghost. Go back to sleep Riya before you wake the whole house and start your drama again" His last words bit into her as if he had slapped her. She bit down on her tongue and dropped her hands to her thighs still crouched on the floor, "Stand back Shivam... there is glass all over the floor. Go back to bed... I'll clean it up before everyone wakes, I promise..." She didn't have the inclination to argue with him and already looking back down as she searched for the remaining pieces of glass. Within seconds she heard the crunch of glass beneath his feet as he moved quickly towards her, his hand wrapped tightly around her upper arm before hurling her back up to his level. The air blew out of her lungs at the sudden contact as she lost her balance and fell into his hard chest only clothed in a thin linen shirt. Before she had the chance to revel in the feel of him he manhandled her yet again almost flinching at the feel of her against him before yanking her back just inches away from his heat. "You're picking up broken glass in thedark? Tell me Riya, are you completely stupid or do you just like being shouted at?" he scathed at her as his now black eyes bore down into her own. She felt his fingers flinch around the soft skin of her arm as he held her firmly, the single tear now dropping onto her cheek. She hadn't wanted him to see how his harsh words had affected her but she had been feeling particularly vulnerable this night and it hadn't taken much to break through her barriers. Why did he have to be so cruel all the time? It was like he was going out of his way to shred her heart into pieces. Without warning he wrapped his other hand around her wounded one "And what is this on y-". "Ah! Ow! Sh-shivam please..." his eyes widened in momentary panic as she let out a strangled and pained hiss into his chest even as she tried to pull away from his vice like grip. Not a second passed by when he released her as if he had touched hot coals. "What the hell? Why are you in pain?!" he had almost shouted the words out, his eyes searching hers frantically before he hid his concern away a little too late. She yanked her hand back down, wishing he would just go away and let her be, "Riya show me your hand. Now"he bit out in repressed rage obviously expecting her to just follow his orders like she was his puppy. Well she had had enough, at least for tonight. "Why do you care? Just go, I will see to it myself..." her words trembled towards the end as his eyes darkened even more as unbelievable as it was. She felt his heat engulf her as he moved further into her space, if he had moved just a few millimetres closer the tips of her breasts would have brushed against the fabric of his t-shirt. He glowered down at her and wrapped his hand more gently around her wrist as he lifted her arm up slightly, "Do you think this is a game? If you have glass in your hand you could bleed out. It could get infected. You're not a child that I have to explain this to you... I may want you out of this house Riya but Idon't have time to wipe up your blood. Now. Show. Me. Your. Hand" he ground the last words out just before his eyes roamed over her face; she was sure she saw a hint of tenderness there but all she could focus on were his arctic words. She closed her eyes for a moment, unable to do anything but breathe in his spicy and masculine scent and his warm breath over her face as she felt the erratic beat of her heart in the pulse of her open wound. Maybe he was right... maybe she needed to dress it before it got any worse. "Here... I wrapped it in a dish cloth so it-" As she spoke he took her injured hand in his, almost touching her with reverence as he unwound the rough piece of cloth; she had stopped midsentence when he had gasped out at the wound infront of him just barely masking the pain away on his face. He swept a hand through his hair, the familiar nervous gesture so obvious to her; even as he spoke he shook his head in incredulity at her, "You really are the most stupid woman, do you know that? There's still glass in your hand!" he half hissed and half whispered the last words out in repressed frustration; how he could see so well in the dark she didn't know, but going by the increasing pain shooting up her arm she believed him. Come on... I need to pick it out before it gets any deeper" he looked at her like she was mentally retarded obviously waiting for her to follow him out of the kitchen. "But Shivam... the floor... the glass is everywhere..." she was sure if he clenched his jaw anymore he would have broken something, "Riya shut up. Shutup and follow me" he bit out again having moved a foot away from her and facing the door as he twisted back to her. She spoke in a stutter "I- I can't...I-" he almost blew up then, just barely keeping his voice in check as he rushed the short distance back to her, "Don't you understand Hindi? Move!" Riya couldn't help but let the tears flow in her embarrassment; he was treating her like a stupid child, not letting her get a word in edgewise. "Shivam I can't move! My feet are bare..." she swallowed the pain back again, involuntarily wrapping her arms around her bare waist in the cold. She followed his gaze down her body when it settled at her bare feet before slowly caressing his eyes back up her body again and to her face leaving a trail of goosebumps on her skin as if he had touched her instead of just looked. "Why are you uncovered like this?" he said before shaking his head and rushing on, "Forget it. Its none of my business..." Riya swallowed the saliva pooled in her mouth; had she just imagined the way he had looked at her? With desire in his eyes? Surely not... she was sure she must have been imagining it even as the blush of heat crept from her chest and into her cheeks. She was glad it was dark enough that he wouldn't have been able to see the colour in her face. Without a word of caution he bent down to her waist and slid his hands under her upper thighs, her body falling into his chest and in the hard muscles of his arms as his other arm wrapped around her lower back. Nothing on earth could have stopped the slight whimper from leaving her mouth at the sudden and infinitely pleasurable onslaught of his heat and scent and touch permeating through every inch of her body. As if he had struck her with lightening as the feel of him after so long fired up every single nerve ending in her body. She was sure she was trembling and was sure it wasn't from the cold anymore. "Don't get excited... this wont happen again" she felt more than heard the vibration of his deep and hard voice traverse from his chest and into hers, curling all the way down to her lower belly and into her toes. She had to fight the insane urge to snuggle her head into his hot chest and breathe him in. Riya had fully expected him to set her down the moment they had left the kitchen, except to her surprise and increasing heart rate he had kept her in his arms as she realised they were now headed up the stairs. "Be quiet... if they find me with you... well, I'm sure I don't have to spell it out..." he looked down at her briefly, her loose straight hair pooling against the bulge of his arm; he seemed to be gritting his teeth and clenching his jaw even harder than before when he looked back up again.

*

What am I doing? He swallowed for the hundredth time, banishing the incredible feel of her in his arms. God... he was sure she had lost weight, she was lighter; even at the thought of it the muscles in his arms had flinched and he had automatically held her closer into his embrace before loosening his grip on her all too quickly. He had found his stupid, beautiful woman floundering around in the dark feeling for shards of glass... of all the stupid, ridiculous things she had done he was sure this won the prize. Well... she wasn't his anymore, he had damn well made sure of that hadn't he? His heart had nearly stopped when he felt her flinch away from his touch, her hand wrapped inexpertly in a filthy piece of cloth she had found lying around and in those moments all he had wanted...needed...to do was gather her up in his arms. Instead he had snapped out at her in anger and blistering fury as if she had asked to get hurt. It seemed to be second nature to him to scald her with his words and with that came the nausea of what he had become. However, no matter how much he had been trying to drive her away there was no way in hell that he was going to leave her there, bleeding and in pain and surrounded by more shards of glass. He hadn't planned on lifting her into his arms; he hadn't planned on looking at her uncovered body like a man starved of oxygen either but his eyes had nevertheless seemed unable to tear themselves away from her. She was beautiful... gorgeous... the loveliest woman he had ever set eyes on in his life even in her bedraggled state and once upon a time she had been his. Now he could only look at her from a distance, like a lecher in the shadows; he had had his chance and he blew it. It had been so long since he had seen her with so little on; the thin blouse over the gentle swell of her breasts had done nothing to cover her modesty and for a moment he felt the possessive need to yank off his own t-shirt and shove it over her head or shove his body into hers and against the counter. What the hell was she thinking walking around like that in the night?! Anyone could have found her. Granted, it was an unpleasantly hot night and even he had been tossing and turning in the incessant heat... but still... she should have covered herself. No one but him should ever see her like that. Just as soon as the possessive thought entered his frazzled brain, he banished it. He couldn't afford to think of her like that; she could do whatever she wanted. He clenched his jaw again wishing he could just cast all feeling for her to the wind, wishing he could stop wanting her and thinking about her softness and sweetness in the lonely hours of the night. If he could just stop loving her this would be so much simpler. But he couldn't; he didn't think anything could make him stop loving her and in all honestly he accepted that it was his cross to bear. He deserved it; he deserved everything after the way he had hurt her... even now as he carried her to the bedroom he was being cold and unfeeling at least with his words. As he had told her to not get excited he had felt the hammering of her heart beating against his own chest, that beautiful and precious organ seeking him out even as he hurled insult after insult at her. How he wanted to hold her closer, press her softness into his harder chest and feel her squirm for more in his arms.

The short walk up the staircase had seemed to take an eternity as he struggled not to caress the tips of his fingers over her bare skin. Once safely inside his bedroom, he closed and locked the door before closing the curtains and lighting the dimmest lamp on the farthest side of the room lest he attract attention. "Stay here... I'll clean you up and then you can leave..." he ground out again as he sat her on the edge of the bed...on her side of the bed. She looked exhausted in the soft light; God knew she needed a good nights rest in a warm and soft bed... preferably next to him and in his arms and wrapped around him. But it was just a fantasy... if he showed her any compassion, any of the weakness in his heart she would only fight harder to stay in this hell trap. No... no matter how much he wanted her to sleep in their bed he wouldn't cave in, he would grit his teeth and bear the suffering with her as his own heart ate itself away in its guilt.

Once he had gathered the small bowl of water, tweezers and the cotton and antiseptic he walked confidently up to her before kneeling on the floor to her left, by her wounded hand. "Shivam... please sit on the bed" her sad eyes searched his own as he purposefully hardened his gaze and ignored her request. "Give me your hand Riya. This will sting, so hold still..." he faltered a moment before he continued, unsure of his next words; he sighed out quietly, "...and if it hurts too much, squeeze my arm as hard as you want... it will help..." He swallowed the lump in his throat as he found the tears pooling becomingly in her eyes; even when she cried she looked beautiful as the salty drops of her tears glistened like jewels on her pretty skin. She quickly swiped the back of her right hand over her eyes before the tears even had a chance to grace her cheeks, nodding once at him before looking away and back again into his eyes. Shivam couldn't look at her like this; he looked away, determined to stay focussed on what he had brought her up here to do. His hand trembled slightly as he moved to pick the two shards of glass from her open palm; when the second smaller piece had proved more difficult to remove he had felt her other hand squeeze hard over his shoulder after she had shot her arm out with the pain and gasping out as quietly as she could. He had stopped immediately, looking to the slight contortion on her pained face before waiting for her to get her composure back. "I'm sorry Sh-shivam..." was all she said when he shook his head from side to side. He felt ill with himself; he had berated her so much that now she was apologising even for this. "You don't have to apologise for being in pain Riya... just hold on.. I'll get it out this time" She nodded her head and hissed as he bit the bullet and finally pulled out the remaining piece of glass; her hand was already swollen and pink around the wound itself so he gently dabbed it with the antiseptic before wrapping the gauze around her palm. He could feel her eyes on his face the entire time, even if he refused to look up at her; he was so close to breaking his resolve, so close to gathering her up in his arms and begging her forgiveness. It had been so damned long since he had touched her that having held her in his arms had been akin to drinking water after months in the desert. He had been parched for her.

He saw the soft movement from his peripheral vision then; when he looked up with the remnants of gauze still clasped in his hand he saw that she was crying softly. So softly that she hadnt uttered a sound; her shoulders gently heaving and her eyes closed tightly away from him. She was broken.He had done this to her... why wouldn't she go? How could a woman love him so much that she would live through this? If he had been able to, he was sure he would have felt his heart tear into pieces... because he could damn well feel it as the shards lacerated his insides. Before he could stop himself, before his brain took over his heart he had lifted himself to her face; his knees still on the floor as he knelt further into her. He swallowed the lump of self-loathing and hurt in his throat yet again and without so much as a word he placed his arms to either side of her hips on the bedsheets. He was so close that he could feel the soft puffs of her breath caressing over his lips and his face; still her eyes had remained closed. "Riya..." he could only whisper her name, not trusting his voice not to crack and break with the weight of his own pain; when she opened her eyes she hadn't flinched away or tried to look away. She looked at him without censure, without hiding away the pain in her heart. Without even realising what he was doing, he moved his face yet closer to hers. He heard her whimper and sigh softly as his lips just barely brushed over hers, his own breath coming out with only a sliver of control left in him. He didn't move away from the blissful contact and neither had she; he closed his eyes, breathing her essence in and so desperate for more of her that he was sure he was clawing out of his own skin. When he finally opened his eyes again he was faced with the deepest mahogany pools of the purest and deepest love that he could have only imagined, her sadness the only reminder of his actions towards her. His lips tingled with the need to press deeper into her mouth, to taste her, to own her. He couldn't help it; he didn't wantto help it. As if in a dream, he lifted his right arm until his palm and fingers brushed softly against the silkiness of her cheek and jaw, caressing her as though she was as fragile as spun glass and the illusion could shatter at any moment. He swallowed again, searching her eyes before she closed them again... as though she were ingraining his every touch to her memory. Their breath had become one even as she leaned into his open palm, their lips still touching and his eyes still caressing over her every feature. His breathing hitched almost out of control as he moved further into her, the lust and sheer force of love in his veins taking over all common sense. Shivam parted his own lips, ever so slowly taking her pretty and plump lower lip in between his own as he fought the urge to go deeper. God... she tasted so sweet... like summer and flowers and honey. He breathed her in even as she whimpered into him, spurring him on to continue even as she twisted her small hands in her lap. Still he kept his hands to her side, not touching her anywhere but with his lips... it was driving him crazy. He took her lip deeper into his own mouth, softly sucking and nibbling gently until his damned teeth and throat and chest ached for the want of more. "Shivam..." she whispered out his name breathily, his own mouth eating up the sound of her voice as he continued to play softly with her bottom lip... all sense of reality having left him in the dead of night and immersed in her warmth. He fisted the bedsheet in his hand, resolving even in his needful haze to not touch her with his hands. If he touched her he wouldn't stop... there would be no stopping. Not with the sheer amount of pent up need and love and longing coursing through his veins for her; she was his wife... his. His breathing deepened until he heard his own barely perceptible moan, loving the lush scent of her as she softly keened into him. It was then, as his tongue flicked out to caress over her now swollen lip that he saw the landing outside of their room flood with light. Shit!

He moved back from her so swiftly that he felt the sting in his neck and shoulders, the shock of potentially being caught jarring him back to his senses. What the hell was he thinking?! He looked away from her, bunching his fists through his hair and yanking so hard that it hurt before dropping his hands. He twisted back round to her and crouched low again, not missing the lust-filled haze on her face morph into hurt and sadness once again. He was shutting her out again and she knew it. "You have to leave... you can't be here. This was a mistake. A big mistake. Please... just go..." he shook his head from side to side, purposefully ignoring her tears as they scorned him for his behaviour; for taking advantage of her. What the hell was wrong with him! "Riya... please just go. I will clean up the kitchen... come on, we don't have time..." He waited for the light to go off again before reaching for her to follow him, however, just as his skin brushed over hers she yanked her arm back from him as though she had been scalded by acid. He couldn't have missed the hurt and anger in her eyes if had been a blind man. "Get off me Shivam... just l-leave me alone. I can go by myself..." her voice trembled violently with barely repressed anger and unending heart break, the mixture of corrosive emotions displayed on every beautiful plane of her face and there was nothing he could say or do about it. He had kissed her, only just taking in her lower lip into his mouth... and God, he had loved every second and every moment in between those seconds and yet even afterthat he had shunned her away. He wished she would just plunge a knife straight into his heart and put him out of his misery once and for all. The months of pent up and unexpressed love and lust for the woman he loved had finally come to a head and when he thought he surely couldn't hurt her any more he had proven to himself just how much more of a bas***d he could be.

Riya ran down the stairs, the soft patter of her flying feet barely making a sound against the bare tiles beneath her soles. Why didn't he just kick her in the chest?! Why didn't he just take a knife and shove it into her heart over and over until it stop beating?! I hate you! I HATE you Shivam Srivastav! She swallowed back the tears pouring down her face and lacerating through her heart, her lower lip sensitive and plump from his kisses only serving to tear a hole through her splattered heart. She was so utterly humiliated... for a blissful few moments she had truly believed that he had come to his senses, that he wanted her back. How stupid she had been! How naive and stupid!Riya ran to the pathetic heap of crushed blankets and the mat that was her bed, she wrapped herself in the thin material and shoved her face into the pillow. It would be hours that she sobbed the wracking tears out of her wretched and splintered heart and when sleep had finally come out of her sheer exhaustion, she hadn't noticed Shivam cleaning up the mess she had made in the twilight hours just before dawn. Neither had she noticed his own tears marred over his face, the back of his large hands swiping angrily at his self-loathing for what he had done as he cut himself on the last piece of glass he picked up from the kitchen floor.

***

Please refer to "Part Three A" for continuation if you enjoyed this :)

So Ive decided that because I write such alot and it takes sooo long to write that if for whatever reason I dont get more feedback then I'll quit while Im ahead 😳 which I definitely dont mind because Im really enjoying princesssheena's FF anyway. But writing so much wouldnt be worth it for just one or two readers. But thank you very much to those who have read and commented, much appreciated :) It is so much fun, I would definitely encourage more people in the forum to write their own FF. I would much rather read others' work than watch the show as it is! 😊

Hey guys! I have completed part three, however it is so long that I have had to put it in two different posts. So Im calling the first part of Part Three- A and the second part of Part Three- B. Please read it in that order. I will definitely put a warning here and say that for sure, if anyone does NOT want to read very adult language and/or sexual situations and vocabulary, then DO NOT read any further. For those of you who have been waiting for the next instalment, I hope you enjoy. As always, feedback is much appreciated and welcomed. Also, might I add that if anyone is reading this before parts one and two, I suggest you read those first before this one or it might be pretty confusing. (You guys, I think I should take a break? This FF is turning into a novel, seriously!😆)


PART THREE- A-

"Bhaiya... I don't know what you ever saw in her" she shook her head as her long tresses brushed against his bedsheets, "Everything that has happened to us is her fault. Since she came to this house she has caused problems between us bhaiya! She is the reason Preeti hates me... I wish... I wish you had never married her" she huffed out in her own frustration as he sat next to her, stone faced and inwardly flinching at her every word. How could she know? She had always been so immature and over-confident... a dangerous mixture for any young girl in this small town. How many times had he asked Riya to forgive her immaturity, even though she was old enough to know better... to be better? "Did you see the way she spoke back to dadi? Isn't she ashamed?" she continued on, her pitching voice now starting to get on his nerves. He closed his eyes for a moment only to remember in painfully acute detail her soft, trembling lips against his; he tried to swallow the sweet memory away and instead he was sure he could still taste her on his lips. "Nimmi... enough..." he bit out before he could stop himself; this was her first visit home since her marriage and already she was criticizing Riya, if only behind her back. Did she think he would join in on it? Did she think he would laugh and scoff with her like they were in some sort of childish club? After having walked into his room to speak to him privately he had softened at the look of concern over her face; it must have been a shock for her to find out that so much had happened in her absence. But hearing her speak like that about Riya was tightening his gut; he didn't want to listen to this...especially after the way he had touched her last night. God... did that actually happen? I kissed her... he swallowed hard as he tried his damndest to shake the memories clear. "But bhaiya..." he turned to her then, the sternness in his eyes making her trail off quietly as he quickly clenched and unclenched his left fist, the cut in his palm mirroring that of his wife's. "Nimmi... explain something to me. When you were sitting in the mandap in place of Preeti, what was stopping you from telling the truth?... When you knew if you didn't speak up you would have been marrying Vyom... why didn't you tell the truth?" He saw the tears start to flood her eyes knowing full well that she would find it difficult to explain herself; it was time she took some responsibility for her actions in all of this damned mess. If Riya could admit that she had been wrong to withhold the truth from everyone, then his sisters should damn well be able to do the same. This wasn't all his wife's fault; his entire family had turned this f**king fiasco into a witch hunt and she was the martyr to pay for their irresponsibility? No ... his sister needed to grow up and soon; she was married for godsakes, there was no more room in her life for this kind of short sightedness. "I...I...bhaiya...why are you asking me this?... Isn't it obvious?" she shook her head seemingly baffled and hurt that he would even ask such a thing and he shook his head in return, "Please just answer me Nimmi... what on earth was stopping you from speaking up before the marriage had been completed?... Was anyone holding your hand and forcing you to do it? Couldn't you have pulled the veil off your head and told the truth? What if Preeti had been physically attacked by Mohit? What if Riya had been attacked while you were covering for Preetis mess? Then what, huh? That piece of-" he stopped himself from swearing infront of her, trying to gather himself together before he lost all decorum infront of his youngest sister, "That lunatic had tied them up, Riya's hands had rope burns and Preeti... Preeti's chunni was torn, Nimmi" He hadn't been able to stop or control himself from asking question after question, even if they had been mostly rhetorical. After the truth had come out his blood had run cold thinking of the horrors that could have befallen both his wife and his sister. If that bas***d had even touched a hair on Riya's head he would have smashed his f**king skull in. He had already given him a beating of a lifetime, pounding into him until he stopped seeing red and still he had come back like a damned cockroach in their lives. The answers to his questions were obvious; his youngest sister had messed up just as badly as his eldest and she needed to face it, to take responsibility for it. She stood up in a flurry, shaking her head from side to side as she stood above him; he knew he looked angry because he damn well was! "I can't believe you are blaming me! How could you! I don't know anything about what Mohit did and I don't want to know. Riya was the eldest!She should have stopped Preeti! She should have told someone. Why am I being blamed?!" she was crying now as she raised her voice, as if that would make her point any clearer. Well it didn't; it was just pissing him off. Shivam stood up then, this time it was he who looked down at her as he spoke through clenched teeth, "Of course you don't want to know anything, why would you? Do you know how selfish you sound right now? Riya did try to stop Preeti. And when Preeti ignored her and escaped behind her back, she went after her to bring her back! She tried to cover up her mess. Don't think I don't know what happened just because I'm not speaking to Riya. Preeti was the one who asked you to swap places with her. Preeti was the one who told you not to tell Riya that she was leaving to meet him. When you could see they weren't coming back in time, didn't you think that maybe it had got out of hand? That just maybe you needed to tell someone the truth? DID YOU THINK THIS WAS A GAME?!" his voice raised into a bellow as he voiced the last question, now feeling slightly lightheaded from the sparse sleep he had these days. Her first visit back and all she could do was hate on Riya and he shout at her like a wayward child. Well, if she refused to grow up and face the music then what choice did he have? His father certainly wouldn't be looking in her direction, never mind actually doing his damned job and talking to her. "No! I didn't think it was agame! I was trying to protect my didi... I- I didn't know what I was thinking. I just completed one ritual after the other and before I knew anything it was too late, I was married to Vyom. What do you want me to say? I don't think this is my fault bhaiya, I'm the one who is stuck in a house full of people who hate me! Point the finger at your wife. Dadi was right when she said you are henpecked! Even now you support her over your own sister!"

Shivam looked at her with incredulity, not able to believe his ears as she continued her obtuse reasoning and insisting that none of it was her fault. Did she think he was living the life of his dreams? After finally marrying a woman he never thought he could deserve, he was now this f**king close to a divorce whilst his sisters had moved on in their own marriages and she had the audacity to feel sorry for herself? Did she think he was happy that they were separated?! He might have felt a tinge of pity when she voiced her situation at her in-laws... but at least her mother-in-law hadn't come back to throw her out of the house again. At least they remained a family; they just needed time to come to terms with her as their bahu. She had a husband whilst his life was falling apart. He was sick to f**king death of everyone calling him henpecked! Was it such a f**king crime to respect his wife's feelings and opinions? Was it such a sin to give and take with his wife?! Did they just expect her to do his bidding for the rest of their lives like his slave? Like his docile mother? He wasnot his father; he had never wanted to keep his wife in check like she was some kind of house pet and yet that was exactly what it seemed they wanted of him. It was as though for the first time in his life he was seeing his sister for who she really was; a spoilt child who never thought she was wrong. The whole world might be wrong, but not Nimmi. He didn't know what to say anymore. "You know what Nimmi? I can't reason with you. No one forced you to marry Vyom. No one taped your mouth shut or tied your hands behind your back that you couldn't say something. No one made you marry him. You did that yourself. You had a choice, you have a brain and you should have realised you had gone too far before Vyom even put the sindoor on your forehead. But you kept going anyway? Forget about Riya and Preeti, Nimmi... it was you in that mandap and you alone and yet you still went ahead with it" even as she moved to turn away from him he grabbed her arm and twisted her back to face him, "I am telling you this as your only and elder brother... you need to start taking responsibility for your actions. You cant keep blaming everyone else around you when you fail to make the right choices. I admit Riya was wrong, I admit she made a stupid mistake by not speaking up... but she also had the courage to admit her mistakes. She is the only one out of the three of you who has apologised for her part in all this. You need to grow up Nimmi... I will only say it once. You are married now, a woman and one day a mother... you need to take responsibility for your actions..." Shivam spoke the words that their father should have spoken to her long ago; he knew it was falling on deaf ears as she narrowed her eyes in disgust at him. He had tried to speak as calmly as he was able given that all he had really wanted to do was shout at her and make her see some sense; even if she was his younger sister, it didn't absolve her of abject stupidity. He was sure that all she could see from her small perspective was his supporting Riya, but it wasn't just that; if Nimmi carried on this way she would make a blunder out of her life. She had a new family to live with now and they wouldn't be as accommodating to her as her own had been and it looked like she would be learning that the hard way if she didn't listen to him just this once. "Bhaiya... I'm going. I didn't come here to get insulted, I just wanted to make sure Dadi was alright but it looks likeall of you have given up on me..." Shivam walked towards her retreating figure, "Nim-" he called to her and stopped half way through her name as he caught sight of Riya standing a couple of feet away from the closed door. His face immediately heated as he looked at her, his eyes instinctively gliding over her pretty lips before sliding up to her eyes again. They hadn't exchanged a word with one another in the last eighteen hours and honestly, after the way she had ran away he didn't think she would seek him out or look at him for a while. He had played his cold words to her over and over in the hours after she left... This was a big mistake... big mistake... Shivam looked away from the warmth in her eyes, unable to handle any kindness from her right now. He didn't understand what had changed for her to look at him with anything but hatred, but he couldn't ignore her pink-rimmed eyes as though she had been crying through the night even if she had tried to hide it with make-up. He watched her walk up to Nimmi as his sister rounded the corner to the stairs, her voice soft and gentle, "Nimmi, Mummyji is calling you downst-" Nimmi whirled into her sister-in-law and practically spat the words out at her, "Yes! I know you all just want to get rid of me. I'm going bhabi" she stressed the last word with irreverence before she ran down the stairs. Shivam closed his eyes for a moment before opening them, the landing now empty of both his sister and Riya. She will never learn... he thought hopelessly, even now hating the way she had spoken to Riya.

*

"Chandaaa... come here beta.. come, I have something lovely for you" As Riya walked in through the front door she heard dadi's nasal voice carry through the hallway; she had had an exhausting day, the fumes of the city clinging to her clothes and still there was so long to go before she could have a moment of peace. She hadn't been able to stop thinking about that kiss; the way he had moved against her lips was like nothing he had ever done before. As though he had needed her like air... and yet... yet the shock of his words after had sliced through her heart like a serrated knife. She had woken up slightly later than usual the same morning after it had happened, her injured hand flying to her mouth as the visceral memory of his lips moving against hers felt almost as real as when it had happened. It had taken her the entire day to try and stop obsessing over it, to stop analysing it until her head felt close to bursting. Yes, she had been humiliated and hurt at the way he had dismissed her after such intimacy but... he had kissed her. She could have almost convinced herself she had imagined it if her hand wasn't so lovingly wrapped in the gauze he used to dress her wound. And so she grasped onto that one kiss that felt like it had lasted an eternity just as it felt like it had ended all too soon... if he had kissed her then it meant he still wanted her... if he had carried her and cleaned her wound then surely it meant he cared for her, if not loved her? Surely? It was more than she could ever have hoped for and yet she was hungry for more, alwaysfor more of him no matter how much she had hated him in those last few moments. The hate never lasted... it was only a reflection of her need, of her love and after the way he had touched her with his lips, she couldn't believe she had ever hated him. Hurt, yes... but not hate.

Yesterday had been beyond awkward when Nimmi and Vyom had come to visit for the first time since their marriage, and Preeti as was now her default setting had stood in the corner like a ghost, watching what her life could have been, unfold right infront of her eyes. Riya didn't have it in her to feel pity for her anymore; she had turned cold and bitter, always snapping and sniping at everyone around her including her mother. Granted, she had been forced into a marriage she felt only hatred for but she still had choices. She could have tried to change her attitude, get out the house, work,help Nandu save money until they could move on in life. But still she seemed to prefer to hole herself up in their room and expect the family to revolve around her needs. She was different, resentful and always negative. It wasn't in Riya's nature to be like this and so she kept her distance from the girl who once upon a time jumped at her own shadow. No matter how nice she had tried to be with her, she was always replied with blame and the incessant guilt-trips as though Preeti herself had had no part to play in any of it. Riya could be accommodating only so much; she might have been Shivam's sister, but it didn't mean she would keep trying to win her affections and turn herself into a complete doormat no matter how Preeti treated her.

On the other hand even with everyone spouting hatred her way, Riya had promised herself that she wouldn't quit her job. She might have been a Shanti look-a-like, but that didn't mean she was going to give up her soul to do it. Besides, if she didn't get out of this house every other day then she would surely go insane... there was only so long she could sit idle as she watched Mummyji and Chanda do the household chores. Dadi had clearly forbidden her to lift even a finger to do the housework; what was she supposed to do? Sit like a piece of furniture until Shivam returned home? No... if she went to work, albeit part time, she could keep saving money and keep herself occupied. At least this way she could keep a particle of her independence intact and she couldn't ignore the fact that she would be able to see Shivam at work, even if he outright ignored her and kept out of her way. Today he had been sent on some fieldwork; the only time she had seen him since he had practically ordered her out of their bedroom was yesterday afternoon, his handsome face animated and angry as he spoke to his sister. She had wished she had been able to read lips, but whatever he had said to Nimmi had been more of a scolding than anything else judging by her reaction, at least of that she was sure. She hadn't been able to help but notice the dark circles under his slightly sunken eyes and her ribcage had clenched around her heart as she saw the sheer exhaustion on his face. She might have been getting little sleep on the cold hard floor, but it didn't seem that the soft bed was doing him any favours either. She had so wanted to walk up to him, to caress and brush her hands through his hair the way she knew he liked... she could remember the soft rumble of his deep voice when she used to pull gently at the roots, stimulating his scalp as he lay his head on her lap after work. The memory alone had softened her features as she had looked at him achingly after Nimmi had rushed out, wishing she could have taken away whatever pain was etched on his face with her love and her warmth. But even as his eyes had swung to hers he had already looked away and she hadn't missed the way he kept clenching his left hand.

Now in the muggy afternoon heat and another day later she stood in the centre of the hallway, frowning slightly at dadi's words, "Aah...now look how beautiful your are! Khushia... put more make up on her, make her glow like the moon! Here Chanda... put this necklace on but be careful with it! Don't want it to go missing, eh?" she cackled then, "I'm joking, I'm joking!" It sounded to her like they were dressing Chanda up in dadi's room; was there a wedding or function she didn't know about? It didn't matter anyway, she was too tired to care right now and all she wanted to do was wash her face clean and drink some hot tea; her back ached and her head was banging from the incessant lack of sleep. It hadn't helped that the air conditioner in the office was on the fritz today. "Oh look... there it is, dragging herself in like a scruffy cat... come Chanda beta, come, sit with me here and face the door eh?" she ignored dadi's latest taunt, the sniping so familiar to her now that it barely registered. She could handle dadi and she could handle Preeti and Nimmi and buaji even better; Mummyji's ire was a little tougher to take but by far the worst was Shivam's hate filled words. So when dadi only looked her way with disgust, Riya found herself smiling openly at her knowing how much it irritated the old woman. Without waiting to see her response she glanced at Chanda; the young woman looked unusually decked up, the pretty and sparkling bright pink and gold sari wrapped expertly and around her petite form. Her hair was pinned up and her make-up highlighted her best features. Riya really did feel like a scruffy cat compared to her, however, she shrugged it off thinking nothing of it before making her way to the washroom. The later hours of that afternoon had seemed to drag on; spending it with her co-worker had been draining enough as he seemed more interested in her than usual. He had brought her at least four cups of tea and snacks that she hadn't been able to drink or eat owing to how busy the stall got despite the female customers flirting with him. He was a good looking man, tall and fit and he had been nice enough to her during her time at Sunhara Enterprises... but for some reason she had felt his attentions more today than ever before and she hadn't been able to help feel the prickling sensation over her skin, as if she had been watched from the shadows. It hadn't frightened her, but she had felt strange. The end of the work day hadn't come soon enough and even though she knew what awaited her at home, she was relieved that at least maybe today she would see Shivam's face. It felt so good to remove the grime and makeup from her skin; her face felt fresh and clear even if she didn't look anywhere as good as Chanda and for a change she gathered her long hair at the back of her head and tied it into a makeshift knot, needing to feel the air move across her neck. She might not have looked her best but after the day she had had at the office she truly had needed to just be herself for a few hours; she let the veil drop to the back of her shoulders and made her way downstairs to her designated spot on the lower terrace as she sipped the sweetened lukewarm tea.

*

He sat atop the powerful engine of his motorcycle for a few moments, closing his eyes and readying himself for yet another evening of inane drama at home. He didn't want to go in; he had much preferred the muggy and clammy atmosphere of the streets as he had advertised the Sunhara products to prospective customers. That was saying a lot considering what a f**king horrible day it had been. That man had been fawning all over her, running about the temporary stall like a damned headless chicken as he tried to help her pack the household products. The jealousy had stabbed at him every time she smiled at the man, even if he recognised it as politeness. It had taken all his willpower not to storm up to their stall and deliver a crunching blow to his jaw; that would have wiped off the smile from his face. What was his name? Akash. Well, whatever... it didn't bother him that he was a fairly good-looking guy; he was still an asshole. He wished she hadn't smiled at him like that; he knew she was just being polite and he knew he was being a damned hypocrite, but he hadn't been blessed with her smile in god only knew how long. Not that he had given her any reason to smile at him. He turned the ignition off and let the engine die down, his face turned up to the front door. If he was honest with himself, the only thing tempting him to walk in was her. He missed the way she looked at him even if he would never admit it to her, even if he hated seeing the longing in her eyes when he couldn't do a damned thing about it. He hadn't even seen her face since yesterday as Nimmi had stormed out of their bedroom, his bedroom. He grit his teeth, silently chastising himself for reverting back to calling everything theirs. There was no f**king "theirs" anymore, he had ripped that away from both of them hadn't he? Shivam shook his head once and slid the black helmet off before hooking it under his arm; even as he walked in he could hear dadi's cackling laughter, his teeth already clamped shut in irritation.

He couldn't have helped it; his eyes had automatically, instinctively slid to her sat in the corner out of everyone's way. He had almost stopped midstride before forcing his legs to move, unable to take in just how stunning she looked. For once she didn't have a scrap of make-up on her face, her pretty soft skin almost glowing in her natural beauty and her hair in a slightly messy but adorable knot atop her head. She looked like she did when she used to wake up next to him on Sunday mornings, simple and real and slightly tousled... he loved it when she looked like that. Like his Riya underneath the fake lipstick and the eye-shadow; like he could just touch her and her hair would come cascading down ready for his pleasure. It wasn't that she didn't look beautiful with her face made up too... but this, this simple look always undid him and he wouldn't be able to say why if anyone asked him. She just looked real to him; as though she belonged in bed with him, naked and wrapped around his body. God, get it the f**k together Shivam, he swallowed hard at the heated thought and dragged his eyes away from her seeking ones. His lower abdominals ached at the thought of her and even as his breathing hitched he decided he really needed a cold shower. It turned out he didn't need it afterall when he watched Dadi hop off her swing and walk up to him, her sickly sweet smile plastered on her face as she put her hands on his shoulders looking back and forth from him to Chanda like she was watching a tennis match. It was bizarre. It hadn't even occurred to him that Chanda was there until he noticed his mother pulling on her arm and bringing her into his view. Every time he looked at dadi now he knew the reality, he remembered the conversation he had unwittingly overheard between her and buaji. To say that he despised her was a kindness. She was like a bucket of ice, never mind a cold shower. "Dadi...namaste..." he trailed off before she interrupted as usual, "Oh look at my handsome grandson! You work so hard, you need someone special to look after you, eh? Come Shivam, go wash yourself and come down to eat. Be quick, eh... the food is still hot! Go..." Shivam looked down before looking back up at her, a tight irreverent smile on his face; he knew she didn't miss the slight look of disrespect on his face but for whatever reason she chose to ignore it. Damn you dadi, I haven't been home two minutes and you're already trying to humiliate Riya, he thought with bitterness even though he knew he would be a hypocrite and use it to push Riya away. That was his grand plan wasn't it? Join in with the rest of his insane family and make fun of the most beautiful creature in his world, in the hopes that she would leave and escape this hell stuck in the dark ages? Wasn't that what he had signed up for?!f**k! He clenched his left fist again, forcing the pain of the cut on his palm to shoot up his arm; he deserved far worse. "I'll be back in a few minutes" was all he said as he clipped out the words coolly, only nodding at his mother's unsure face before making his way up the stairs.

*

Please continue on to read Part Three- B

Hey guys! I have completed part three, however it is so long that I have had to put it in two different posts. So Im calling the first part of Part Three- A and the second part of Part Three- B. Please read it in that order- THIS is part B. I will definitely put a warning here and say that for sure, if anyone does NOT want to read very adult language and/or sexual situations and vocabulary, then DO NOT read any further. For those of you who have been waiting for the next instalment, I hope you enjoy. As always, feedback is much appreciated and welcomed. Also, might I add that if anyone is reading this before parts one and two, I suggest you read those first before this one or it might be pretty confusing. (You guys, I think I should take a break? This FF is turning into a novel, seriously!😆)


PART THREE- B (Please read Part THREE- A- before continuing on)

"Beta... you plate all the food while I get the table ready" Khushia hesitantly turned back again, shaking her round face from side to side before nodding in Riya's direction, "And don't let this girl here anywhere near the food... only God knows what else will go wrong. My poor Shivam..." she trailed off as she walked absent-mindedly back to the dining table. Riya felt the sting of her words in her chest, hating herself for caring one way or the other. Mummyji was obviously under the influence of her mother-in-law, but couldn't she think for herself, couldn't she just try? She couldn't help but wonder if the woman she once thought of as a mother was in complete denial, unable to face the fact that her children weren't as perfect as she had thought. That maybe she was using her new daughter-in-law as a scapegoat to run away from the truth. Well... what difference did it make anymore? Her truth was that she didn't really care what they all thought of her; the only person whose opinion had the ability to destroy her or empower her was Shivam's... the same man who had looked at her like she was his entire world as he had marked her as his wife with the sindoor. The depths of love and pride that she had seen reflected back to her in his eyes in that moment had undone her and when his fingers had brushed against her forehead, the red vermillion making herhis, she hadn't been able to hold the silent tears back. He was her dream come true. She had never been the sort of woman to let a man make her feel weak; she was never one to depend on othersfor self-empowerment. Her father and the memory of her mother had ensured she grew up to be strong, to be able to weather any storm no matter what came her way. But he changed all that... never in a million years had she expected the weakness that could come with such a force of passion and love. Never did she imagine that just as love could make one as strong as a hundred thousand men that its absence could bring her to her knees, craving and longing and aching for just one more look from him. He had shattered her and still she couldn't hate him, still she couldn't despise him. Was something wrong with her? Or was this what love did to people? Was this the ugly side of love... when you can't have the one human being in all the world who could make it all better? When that one person was the cause of your heartbreak in the first place? Was this love? She didn't know... she didn't know the answer to the question that all of humanity in all of history hadn't been able to answer. All she knew was that he made her heart ache and break and soar into the heavens all at the same time. She couldn't even begin to describe what she felt anymore. How could the same man hate her so much? How could this same man blame her like the rest of them were? And why was she not walking away? Why! She closed her eyes for a moment, leaning against the wall outside the kitchen as she got lost in her silent pain and unanswered questions.Every time she saw him her heart and mind spiralled out of control, concocting a monstrous mixture of confusion and need and anger and the utter helplessness to be able to do nothing but want him,love him. She swallowed what little moisture was in her mouth, her throat dry having not finished her tea; when she opened her eyes she was sure she saw the soft smirk on Chanda's face. Without caring if dadi or mummyji were nearby, she walked into the kitchen pulling a surprised look from Chanda who quickly squirrelled it away and continued to ladle the dhal. "Chanda... your sari is beautiful. Why don't you let me plate up the food... Dadi will get upset if you get food on it. I can get it ready for you and you can serve it at the table?" she spoke in a purposefully innocent tone, hoping she would take the bait. She watched as Chanda faltered, running her hands over the expensive material before giving Riya a look so virtuous that it almost seemed artificial. The woman simply nodded even as Riya moved to the pans and bowls brimming with freshly cooked vegetables and meat, already placing the curries and condiments just how she knew he liked. At least he can eat the food I have plated for him... she thought sadly and feeling pathetic and stupid that she was so desperate to take care of him that she had resorted to inconspicuously plating his food. How low she had sunk... and yet... she felt a sense of warmth in her heart being able to take care of him even in the smallest way, even if he never knew. He had looked so tired yet again, as if he hadn't been getting any sleep at all these days... as if he hadn't been getting any peace. And I'm the one he blames, she thought as her heart clenched and she removed the chillies from his dhal... he hated whole chillies in his food and Chanda had added at least four or five in there. Riya couldn't help the words practically jumping out of her mouth, her irritation had spiked and she couldn't ignore the suspicion clawing away at her, "How do you know what Shivam's favourite foods are, Chanda?... Are you trying to impress him?" She watched as the strangely ingratiating woman flicked her hair back in nervousness before answering in a saccharine voice, "I just cooked what I was told to..." Riya blurted out her next question, hating the overly sweet look on the girl's too naive face, "Were you also told to dress up like a married woman?" she shook her head at Chanda almost immediately, wishing she hadn't given her weakness away and kept her stupid mouth shut, "Forget about it. I'm sorry. Here... you can take it to the table..." She knew she was being unfair, but she couldn't shake the feeling that even through her innocent words she had ulterior motives. She hadn't missed the way she had spied her doing her make-up in dadi's room, re-touching it three times before coming infront of Shivam. It didn't sit right with her. Already she felt defeated, like she had gone ten rounds in a boxing ring and all it had taken was Chanda with her expensive sari and perfect make-up and prettied up for her husband to make her feel like a stain on the otherwise perfect facade of the Srivastav household.

His hair was still damp from the quick shower he had taken, the spikes falling over his eyes and the droplets of water falling onto his clean and fitted black t-shirt as he descended the stairs. His head had felt so foggy now that he was home and ready to crash into the bed that he had decided to do a couple hundred push-ups and pull-ups. At least the physical exertion had cleared some of the cobwebs from his brain, not to mention the remnants of his lust filled thoughts after he had seen Riya first thing after entering the house. What was wrong with him? She had been completely covered from neck to toe but one look at her make-up free face and those haunting eyes and he had been sucked right in. He had needed to work it out of his system before coming downstairs and now his muscles ached almost pleasantly with the catharsis. He had been feeling hungry; starving in fact, after having not eaten any breakfast or lunch and he had fully intended to dish out his own food. He was in no doubt that Riya would try and serve him again today despite his mother's prostestations. Neither would she let Riya serve him and neither would she let him serve himself, as if he was some pre-pubescent child who couldn't look after himself. Sometimes he could swear that time ran backwards in this house; back to the 1900's he was sure. Well, after seeing the look of exhaustion on Riya's face, there was no way he was going to let her serve him; if anything, he should be serving her, but that wasn't going to happen. Not if he wanted her to think he didn't give a damn about her. Even as he thought it his appetite all but disappeared; he really didn't want to eat until she had had something herself. As soon as he heard her voice his muscles bunched right the hell back up again, his breathing coming out slightly heavier as his curiosity outweighed his need to sit at the table and rest his shoulders for a while. He hadn't missed any of the conversation, unable to ignore the hint of jealousy in her voice as she rattled off one question after the next. Chanda looked like she was putting on a class act, the syrupy sweetness of her nature couldn't have been the real her, surely. No one was that f**king nice all the f**king time.

He twisted around quickly, sensing his mother approaching him from behind before she went for the kill and shouted at Riya for being in the kitchen. Usually he would have allowed it to happen; the more his family ill-treated her, the more likely she would leave this shithole. But something about today felt different; after he had kissed her his brain had felt like it had been turned inside out and he was finding it infinitely harder to be the complete bas***d he had promised himself he would be. Today she looked shattered, as if she was holding on by a thread of sanity and he didn't have it in him to let his mother unleash her hatred on her... not today. And so he walked infront of his mother, stopping her in her tracks and blocking her view. "Ma... I can dish my own food out. Why don't you go and rest, I'll be fine..." as soon as he uttered the words his mother gasped looking displeased just as dadi started her yakking yet again. "What are you talking about serving yourself? Have you lost your mind? Men don't serve themselves in this house, you know that! Now... don't worry about your ma. Chanda will serve you your food today... go...go and sit at the table... " He shook his head silently, only a hair's breadth from losing it and walking the hell back out of Shanti Sadan. He was a grown f**king man, he could damn well serve himself and he didn't need Chanda of all people to serve him like some doting married woman! He wasn't f**king blind! He could see very well what was going on... they were damn well pushing their limits shoving that woman in his face every chance they got, the both of them. He looked at his mother then, unable to mask the shock on his face as she started sobbing with fat teardrops running down her face. Ah f**king hell, what now for godsakes! "L-look at what she has done to you! Do you see now? Do you see? This is all Riya's fault... she is too modern this girl, teaching you to serve yourself. You have never served yourself... Amma-ji what do I do? Riya has changed my boy..." Shivam ground his teeth for what felt like the millionth time; God... he was fed-up. If he told his mother to stop making such a big deal out of it she would no doubt blame Riya for that too and if he just shut his mouth and let Chanda serve him then he could just get the hell out of there sooner rather than later. He was too exhausted for this bitch-fest between his dadi and his mother and in all honesty he wasn't so sure anymore that his mother was as innocent and sweet as he had believed her to be all these years. Every day she seemed to show an increasingly more cruel side to herself and he didn't like what he was discovering. Not at all.

He ground his jaw tight and shut his mouth like the exemplary f**king son of the house was expected to do, simply nodding once before moving to the dining table and hoping that Riya had snuck out of the kitchen before she was found out. He sat himself down, unable to stop himself from seeking her out from the corner of his eye before looking directly at her. She was hurting and he couldn't help but get sucked into that look, her beautiful puppy eyes looking beyond sad and as though she were longing for him. Her eyes felt like they were literally pulling on his heart with strings, as if with that look alone she could magnetise him to her and he would wrap his arms around her and bury his face in her, in the crook of her neck. God... I wish... his breathing deepened as the ache in his ribcage hurtled through him, if he wasn't careful then his resolve to push her away would completely fall apart. He needed to remind her that she meant nothing to him, that that kiss that had melted his heart and turned him on and made him want to devour her whole had meant nothing to him. And so when he uttered the words that came out of his mouth next as Chanda set the plates infront of him, he could have sworn he heard his own soul tear itself apart. "Chanda... why don't you sit down and eat with me? You must have spent all day cooking and no one else seems to be hungry... " he had looked at the food infront of him unseeingly as he spoke the hollow words, knowing that each utterance was a knife in his beautiful wife's heart. He raised his eyebrows and looked at the woman he couldn't care less about, "Sit... you must be tired... and... and your sari looks lovely by the way..." And Riya is exhausted... she hasn't even eaten... If he was any weaker he would have let the sting in his eyes manifest itself, but he didn't. He couldn't believe that his mouth was still making words; words he didn't mean even if his life had depended on it. He looked at Chanda stoically as she sat herself perpendicular to him, offering her the most wooden and hollow smile he had ever given to another human being, his entire body still attuned to the perfect angel in the background even if he didn't glance her way. Almost a quarter of an hour went by, his peripheral vision latched onto Riya not knowing what her face looked like, not wanting to know for fear of what he would see. He had pushed his food about, barely eating a piece of roti he had dipped in the dhal before completely giving up; Chanda had sat awkwardly watching him waste the food she had cooked and he really couldn't have given a shit. Hungry wasn't even a word he understood right now; he just wanted to get the hell out of there and go to sleep, at least it would be oblivion from his own aching heart if only for a while. "You're looking quite unwell Riya... and your sari is torn, eh. You should take some pride in how you look if you're going to force yourself on us here... we don't need the neighbours gossiping about your tatty clothes on top of everything else..." Shivam's gaze gravitated to her like a magnet upon hearing her name; his eyes moved from her feet to her hand twisting self-consciously at the hole in her sari, her injured one still wrapped in the same gauze he had used as it triggered the memory and prompted him to fist his own injured hand. When he finally found her face he had wished he hadn't; even before the pretty teardrop had touched her cheek she had swiped it away, her lip trembling in barely masked pain as she forced a gentle smile on her lips and spoke back to dadi, "I am proud of my clothes dadi... I look like you, don't I?" Shivam would have smiled at her audacity if the heart wrenching pain on her face wasn't ripping his heart right out of his chest. That tear she had swiped away had nothing to do with dadi and everything to do with him, of that he was sure. He would have bet his life that had she been alone her tears would have flowed unimpeded over her face, mirroring the breaking of her heart as she watched her husband care more for a stranger than her. Yes, he was pretty damn sure he had sunk to the depths of hell itself.

If she had thought her heart was breaking before, then she obviously didn't know what the hell she was talking about. Watching the man she was in love with giving attention to and showing such concern to Chanda had been akin to his shoving his hand into her chest and squeezing her heart until it bled. She had leaned back against the wall in her sudden weakness, not able to believe her ears as the blood drained from her face and pooled into the empty chasm where her heart should have been. He really doesn't love me... all he needed was... was a woman in a pretty sari... She felt like her face was going to crumble as her throat contracted with the sharp sting of jealousy and betrayal. He hadn't really done anything shocking, but the way he asked her to sit with him, thecompliment... the two of them alone like a pair of lovers and dadi's smug face in the background... She let the pain settle in her throat, not even wanting to run away from it anymore. He really truly hated her... there was no other explanation any more. It was the first time he had ever invited Chanda to sit with him, to spend time with him; she had hoped that it had been a good sign his avoiding the woman every time dadi had tried to force them together. But no... now he had sought her out without any prompting. He truly doesn't want me anymore... she had thought to herself as her world came crashing down and even then dadi showed no compassion, her vicious taunt nearly sending her over the edge. She wouldn't cry... not infront of that woman; not infront of any of them. Even though she didn't care what dadi had to say about her state of dress, she did care what Shivam thought of her. Damn her but she still cared even though she was sure he hadn't even noticed if she was alive since he had come home from work; why the hell would he with Chanda walking around looking like a classy model swanning about the house? She shouldn't have cared;he obviously didn't. But she accepted it now as surely as she accepted the sun in the sky and the depths of the ocean... she was in love with him even he hated her, even if he wanted nothing to do with her. And it was so obvious to her now. Her being here... forcing herself on him, in his life... it was selfish. He didn't want her anymore... if that display was anything, it was proof that he was already moving on. It was proof that she could never make him happy. It felt like she was over-reacting but she knew she wasn't... he hadn't stopped shouting at her, insulting her, going out of his way to hurt her and that kiss... well that kiss had obviously meant nothing to him. When he had said it had been a mistake, he had truly meant it; she couldn't believe otherwise as she watched him smile at Chanda, even if he looked uncomfortable as he did it. Maybe he just wishes I wasn't here to watch him... she thought as her heart beat out the last vestiges of hope left in her, for now she truly had none. Not only did she feel stupid and ugly in her old-fashioned sari compared to Chanda, but she was exhausted and her stomach twisted in painful knots in its desperation for food even if it was the last thing on her mind. She was struggling to keep her face from falling apart, let alone speaking back to dadi; she needed to get out of here. I should leave them alone, let them spend some time together... she thought to herself as each silent word peeled and ripped away at the battered and broken layers of her heart. She didn't think she could hold back the pain anymore, she needed to be alone... away from them, from him. "Doesn't Chanda look beautiful in this sari, eh Kushia? Like an actress! Do you like the colour Shivam?..." Riya didn't dare look at him; she couldn't hold back the tears leaking quietly from the corners of her eyes. She didn't want to know his answer, she didn't want to hear him say how beautiful she looked or how the colour suited her. She just wanted to hide and sob her heart out until she curled up in on herself. If he truly didn't want her... then she would never hurt him by being in his life. But she couldn't watch this, listen to this.And so Riya quietly backed away, drawing as little attention as she could to herself and sure than no one in the world would notice anyway. She walked up the stairs, passing by her husband's room and disappeared into the shadows far and infinitely alone from prying eyes.

*

He hadn't missed the movement in the background, the subtle saffron splash of colour there one moment and gone the next. She had left him alone with a witch, a puppet and possibly a charlatan. He didn't like to think of his mother as a puppet, but the way she was acting these days was making it increasingly difficult for him to see her the way he used to. She had always been naive, but thiswas way beyond ridiculous; she believed every word out of dadi's mouth no matter how preposterous and without question. It wasn't an attribute he found he could respect no matter how much he loved his mother. He looked at Chanda as she smiled shyly at him, no doubt his and dadi's comments inflating her ego no matter how demure and well mannered she seemed on the surface. He narrowed his eyes for a moment, a frown marring his features for a second before he looked back at dadi, wishing he could hurl the insults back at her for the way she had essentially laughed at Riya infront of everyone with her usual brand of cruelty. He was being a hypocrite yet again, afterall, hadn't he complimented a complete stranger on her sari just to hurt Riya? But that washim... his dadi attacking her was different and as hypocritical as it was he couldn't bear to listen to them verbally strip her, especially not today. "Dadi... Chanda has been home all day. I'm sure she's had lots of time to dress up and do her hair and... whatever you women do... but others have to go out and work. They come home and then they do the housework. Not everyone can play dress up Dadi. I myself am covered in dust when I get back from work..." He didn't know when he had learnt to speak like that to the matriarch of the family; maybe Riya was rubbing off on him more than he realised, but he would be damned if he had let her get away with it. Riya wasn't here to hear him support her and it was how he preferred it, but speaking up to this woman had made him feel empowered. A rare occurrence indeed with a life sucking family such as his; he might have loved them, but they sure as hell didn't know how to just be happy in life. His throat had constricted when he had watched Riya fisting the hole in her sari as if she had felt small and ashamed of herself. When he had spotted her from a distance as she busied herself in the stall with Varun, she had got her sari trapped by a nail, ripping it before she could get it free. If anything that tear was a symbol of how hard she had been working today; it was nothing to be ashamed of and he wasn't going to let dadi belittle it. His dadi had shamelessly flaunted Chanda infront of him, as if that woman could in any way compare to Riya's natural beauty. She didn't need layers of make-up and blindingly bright saris to make her look beautiful, she was f**king gorgeous just as she was to him. Preferably with as little on as possible if he could have his way, but this wasn't the place to think of such things. "That conniving girl? That modern woman? Don't be fooled by her... you already got fooled once. She doesn't know the meaning of hard work. As soon as she came home she made herself some tea and comfortably sat down. And here Chanda has been toiling in the kitchen all day! That is working hard" she puffed out her chest trying to seem imposing no doubt, only managing to piss him off even more with her intentional sociopathic tendencies. "Anyway, you are a man eh Shivam? You are expected to look like a mess when you come home from work" she chuckled in her deep voice, "women should make more of an effort. Going to the office is no excuse to look like a homeless person. But ah anyway... leave it. You should eat some more food. Chanda has been in the kitchen all day cooking for the family... you don't want her work to go to waste..." Wow... you're really laying it on thick today dadi... he thought with a bitter and sickly feeling in his belly, as though something was badly wrong. He couldn't be bothered talking back to her again, no doubt she would skim over it and keep shoving Chanda in his face if he stayed here and he really wasn't hungry anymore. He wrapped the roti and vegetable parcel surreptitiously under the table as dadi fawned over Chanda, making sure it was covered in the thick clean tissue before tucking it out of sight and standing up. "No dadi... thank you but I've had enough for now, I'm tired so Im going to rest for a while" he clipped out succinctly, nodding quickly to his mother and Chanda before making himself scarce and giving his grand-mother a chance to hold him back longer. He walked up the stairs sure that she had gone this way; he just needed to give her the parcel of food and go to his bedroom... at least he would feel more at peace that she had some food before she had to cook for herself later. As he walked passed their bedroom, the setting sun casting long and golden shadows along the open landing he thought he heard something coming from behind the room and towards the rear-facing balcony before the sound disappeared again. Not sure what to expect but feeling his heart hammer in his chest anyway, he walked in the direction from where it originated only to stop dead in his tracks when he saw her. Her veil was in disarray as she leaned her uncovered shoulder on the wall, her face in her hands and her slender shoulders slightly hunched over as the most heart wracking sobs escaped her pretty mouth. His heart twisted into an unbearable pain at the sight of her; she hadn't noticed him watching as she bit hard into her bottom lip, no doubt trying to stop the sound of her heart breaking from reaching too far. Her body shook quietly, one word escaping her lips over and over until he thought his chest was going to completely cave in. "Sh-shivam... Sh-shivam... I'm sorry..." when she uttered the apology he felt the rage finally bubble to the surface of his barely contained sanity. Why the f**k is she apologising? She doesn't have anything to apologise for! I'mthe one who made her cry! How the f**k can this woman still want me?! He didn't know if he was feeling the anger at her or himself anymore, just that he wanted her to stop crying. He f**king hated seeing her cry... and this, this wasn't crying. She was breaking right before his eyes. "Stop it" was all he could say at first, his voice cold and devoid of emotion; her head snapped up as she plastered her back to the wall, the soft light of the sun making her face glow in the bronzed light and catching the sparkle of her tears. God she is beautiful. "Just stop it. What is wrong with you? Don't you ever stop crying? Stop looking for attention!" he didn't know what the hell had come over him, bellowing the last words to her like a man gone mad even as her face morphed right before his eyes from fractured heartache to stone-faced anger. He damn well preferred her anger to her tears. "I wasn't looking for attention! Why do you always yell at me? What did I do?? You're the one who followed me here! I don't need you! I didn't ask for you to look for me!" her voice cracked as she almost screamed the last few words and somewhere in the back of his mind he was surprised that no one had heard them. As though he was possessed by some manic need to shake sense into her, he stalked up to her in seconds, her smaller frame pressing further into the wall behind her as the space between them shrunk. He stopped just a hair's breadth away from her chest, he could feel her breasts just barely moving against his own chest as she sucked the air into her lungs at his sudden proximity and the frisson of contact between them. No where near enough and yet too much all at the same time. He could smell her delicate perfume, something heady like jasmine and woman and her. And god knew what else that was making his breath come out ragged and laboured. He couldn't tear his eyes away from her hair as the make-shift knot she had made suddenly came loose as she jolted against the wall, her long silky hair fanning about her face like a damned siren. His eyes swung back to her own pools of liquid chestnut, his voice coming out deep and hoarse even to his own ears, aroused. "Don't think I'll change my mind just because you're beautiful. Ishouldn't have kissed you" he leaned into her as he uttered the same hard words he spoke that night, unable to move in any other direction but closer. Her breasts pushed into him fully now even as he gritted his teeth with the sensation of her, unclenching his jaw again before he spoke and taking her own laboured breath into his lungs, "You shouldn't be here, in this house. Stop interfering with dadi and ma... and leave Chanda alone, Riya. She's just doing what they tell her to" his words were meant to make her angrier, to make her hate him with every particle of her being except that wasn't what happened. The look he had been terrified of seeing was there before him in all its glory, her face crumbled and her every vulnerability was bared before him like the most precious of treasures; her voice trembled and broke and tore through him like a battering sandstorm, "I-I know you want h-her. I l-look like this and she is beautiful. I am s-sorry I have made you so miserable, Sh-shivam. I wont be a burden to you any more... I p-promise" she struggled through the words, the tributaries of tears cascading over her cheeks and lips and unable to look him in the eyes. He could feel the movement of her breasts against him as she shook with the force of her tears, the sensation coiling around him until he couldn't take it any more. He needed her to look at him, if she didn't look at him he was going to f**king detonate as the rage of what her words did to him licked through him like fire. She bit into her bottom lip, hard enough that he saw the indentation of her small teeth against the natural blush of her skin, her frown causing her face to crumble further as she unsuccessfully held her breathless sobs at bay, "Y-you hate me... so much... I-" That was all it took to make him finally snap. He couldn't have given a flying f**k about Chanda or if they dipped her in f**king gold and rolled her in diamonds. No one compared to Riya. No one. "JUST SHUT UP!Alright? Shut. UP" Even as he bellowed out the last word he lifted his right arm up and sunk his long fingers into the back of her scalp, her soft hair firmly but gently bunched up in his fist. He slammed his chest against hers, crushing her breasts into him as she let out a yelp from the sudden onslaught to her senses and before he knew what he was doing his mouth came crashing down on hers, hard and desperate for her. He could taste the saltiness of her tears, the sweetness of her saliva and the soft whimpering from her throat as he sucked on her lips, licking and nibbling like he hadn't eaten in years wanting only to kiss away the mark she had made with her small teeth. He felt her pushing deeper into his embrace, seeking more of him like it was the most natural thing in the world and another lock snapped open in his barely restrained body. He needed to touch her goddamit; it wasn't enough! Shivam lifted his left hand to her veil, instinctively pulling at it and away from her skin even as she tried to pull it back and cover herself. They were alone, no one was watching and he had lost all common sense; he needed that stupid f**king sari off her blouse now. You're mine, if I want to touch you I will! The possessive and almost Neanderthal-like thought forced its way into his psyche after the months of self-inflicted torture. She f**king well belonged to him no matter how much he tried to deny it; even if she left him and let him die alone and broken, even if they could never be together... she would always belong to him. He hadn't been able to stop thinking of that kiss, of the needy sounds she had made when he simply touched her with his lips but now he needed more, he needed more than anything in this moment to pull those sounds from her precious lungs again just for him. Shivam pressed himself deeper into her, his cock hard and flush against her flat belly as he thrust his tongue in between her lips. He drank in her soft cry for more as he sucked on her tongue, slowing the kiss until he was drugging her senses; licking first her bottom lip before moving onto her pretty heart-shaped upper lip and sucking it in-between his own. He lovedthe primal and painfully feminine sounds coming from her, filling his own mouth as he bit hard on her lip, needing her to feel the force of his love for her even if he wouldn't say it with his words. He was getting lost in her, losing control. He shoved her harder against the wall, pulling on her hair at the base of her scalp until her face was bent up towards him to get a better angle. He plundered her mouth until he was sure she couldn't breathe; she was breathless and speaking his name on her lips, almost crying out for more of him. I love you Riya... I love you baby... he wished he could say it loud, he wished he could kiss her more tenderly and communicate his love to her that way but he didn't dare. This wasn't a time for tenderness; he couldn't show her he loved her but he could show he wanted her, like a man wants a woman. He felt her wrap her arms around his neck, desperately pulling him down towards her from his height; Shivam dislodged her hands, using his own strong arms to pin her wrists to either side of her head before kissing her harder and softer at the same time. He took his time to savour her until she squirmed against him for more pressure, bucking her own slender hips into his own and he unable to stop the deep rumbling moan of his own voice from flooding her mouth. She smelled so f**king good; her skin clear and fresh without a trace of make-up so he could taste her as he lapped at her. His hands sported a fine tremor as one dropped to her waist, his right hand caressing sensually over her bare silky skin and pulling her into his own abdomen; he loved the way she sucked the air into her lungs at his touch. His palms ached to cup her breasts, to draw out yet another aching whimper from her until his brain short-circuited. His cockached for her, to sink into her after almost a year of fantasising about it. He couldn't get enough of her tentative and inexperienced attempts to thrust her sweet tongue in his mouth, taking her cues from him as she sucked back on his own tongue and sent fireworks exploding in his head. It was too much, he was sure he would start hyperventilating at this rate, drowning in her as she pushed her breasts further into him. f**k! He was losing control dammit. Too much! I need to stop before I tear her damned clothes off right here! He suddenly stepped back from her breathless and shaken at the force of his own need and at his own actions, severing the connection between them so roughly that she almost moved with him before he held his hand out between them, stopping her from coming any closer with the slightest of tremors running up his arm. His breathing was laboured when he spoke, praying she didn't look south of his abdomen lest she see the very obvious evidence of his lust through his jeans. As if she hasn't just felt you press your damned cock into her you idiot! He mentally chastised himself as he tried not to latch his eyes onto the movement of her chest rising and falling with her own heavy breathing. She was so f**king sexy right now his throat ached for more; his mouth had wanted to trail kisses where it had never dared before. Shivam unconsciously shook his head, tearing his eyes away from her for a moment to shake the uncontrollable love and lust raging through him before speaking to her like a goddamned asshole yet again. He really needed to stop f**king around with her emotions like this, but when she had finally spoken of leaving he had lost his damned mind and hurled himself at her. He knew he was giving her mixed signals and he really didn't know what the hell to do about it at this point. He ground his jaw shut and forced himself to breathe through his nose, trying his best to ignore the becoming flush over her cheeks and the exposed part of her chest... her lips swollen from what his mouth had just done to her again. His kisses suited her.

He tore his hand through his hair, pulling almost viciously until it hurt; he couldn't stop the small hiss that left his mouth as he inadvertently opened the wound on his palm again. Even as he dropped his hand, he hadn't missed the way Riya looked at his hand, the frown on her face her tell-tale sign for her concern and worry; however, Shivam spoke before giving her a chance to question him about it. "Don't mistake this for something more. Stop trying to seduce me. It won't work. I don't care how f**king gorgeous you are - stop looking at me like that and just do what ma tells you, alright? Stop trying to be part of this family" Shivam shook his head at the hurt in her eyes even as she gasped at his swearing; he never swore infront of her, but she had completely undone him, he had lost his damned f**king mind attacking her like a wild animal in heat. It didn't escape him that every word out of his mouth was a lie. He was completely seduced even if she hadn't planned it and it was taking everything he had not to hurl himself back into her incredible soft body and listen to her soft moans for him. This is what f**king happened when you didn't make love to your wife after marrying her... and pretending you hated her. "Don't look at me like that. You wanted a divorce, you said six months... that's what you'll get". He was convinced without a doubt now that she had no part to play in filing for the divorce, there was no way in hell she wanted to leave him when she kissed him back like that. Dadi had manipulated and orchestrated the whole thing and he fell into the trap like the moron that he was. Well... in the end it didn't make a difference. He should let her go, he should let her live her life hassle free; except when she had actually said it out loud he had panicked, unable to stomach the idea of her leaving forever. He didn't know what the f**k he was doing; he shouldhave told her to go, not kiss her until neither of them could breathe anymore! And here they were, back to square one and he was sure he had completely confused her by the look on her face. He walked towards her, moving to her right and picking up the food parcel he left on the balcony railing before shoving in into her good hand, "Eat this. You haven't eaten all day. And don't mistake it for love, Riya. I don't have room for it anymore" She looked stung by his words as her face fell even more, but instead of hurling abuse at him she shook her head before speaking, "But you barely ate anything. Here, you take-". Shivam scowled at her, in no mood to argue with her and the taste of her still in his mouth driving him insane. He narrowed his eyes and looked at her with a touch of anger, "You're still arguing with me? You know what? Eat it, don't eat it... I don't give a damn. Do whatever the hell you like" He swallowed back his spit and turned on his heel, now feeling the weariness of their situation settle in his bones leaving him completely deflated and hollow. What in the hell was he going to do? He was more in love with her than he ever had been and he wasn't sure how he was supposed to let her go. Except... if he truly claimed to love her, then he had to... for her sake.

Riya stared at the silhouette of his broad shoulders, tapering into a V at his waist as he stalked away from her, his head bent down and the adam's apple in his throat moving up and down. The wrapped up food sat like a bag of feathers in her open hand, her head floating and every nerve ending in her body electrified at whatever in God's name had just happened between them. His words had been horrible, cold and full of anger yet again... even cruel when he accused of her seducing him... except he had practically made love to her with his mouth in the secluded corner of the house. Her breath trembled as she breathed in and out, her dupatta hanging immodestly on the floor of the balcony and her upper body clothed only in her saffron coloured blouse as the memory of his hands felt like he had been tattooed all over her skin. When she finally looked down at the food in her hands, the force of love and the ache hit her square in the centre of her chest like a tidal wave... he hadn't eaten, but he had snuck out his own food to give to her. To make matters worse she hadn't missed the pain etched on his face when he had clenched his left fist, the small droplet of blood he had left on the tissue like a precious jewel. Her tears dropped on the paper-thin material, the liquid spreading into it as her vision blurred realising that he was wounded. He said he didn't love her, that she wasn't a part of his world... but the evidence in her hands was so completely the opposite that her head swam with the confusion. Her injured hand floated to her sensitive lips before dropping to her neck. What had just happened? God... what do I do? I don't want to go... not after the way he kissed me... touched me. She let the unanswered question hang silently in the ethers knowing that God would not help her if she didn't think for herself. She leaned back against the wall, closing her eyes and letting the tears flow down her cheeks and wetting the exposed skin of her decolletage as if her tears could wash away the feel of him. They couldn't, they never would. She swallowed back the painful lump in her throat, already missing him, already craving the feel of his hot sweet breath against her cheek as he had practically eaten her up. "I love you Shivam..."

****

Hey guys! Ok, well woompf! This next installment is huuuge. I mean its really big, so big I dont even know how many parts there will be to it just yet, but I'll amend this once Ive posted everything. So this is Part Four- A and you should definitely read the previous parts to have any idea what's going on if you want it to make sense 😊 Prior to this is Part One, Two and Three A and B.

I will put my WARNING here and say once again to whomever is reading; this piece of fiction (Part Four in its entirety) contains very very adult language including sexually explicit words and situations as well as profanity in keeping within the context of this work. Please do NOT read from here on if you do not want to read this kind of material, it is for adults only and for those who don't mind adult content.
I as usual have no clue of this will get me temporarily banned, but if it does, please just PM me and I will email you the FF directly 😉
Enjoy and of course as always, feedback is always welcome 😊
(Author's Note amendment- Part Four consists of sub-parts A, B, C and D in total.)



PART FOUR- A- (- Please read Part Three - B - before continuing on)

"Yes, Mr. Gupta... yes sir...ah... of course..." he grit his teeth, wishing he could smash a hole the size of his fist into the wall next to him as he paced back and forth, "No sir... it won't be a problem... yes, Good night" he swiped his finger across the screen to end the call before hurling the shiny black brick onto his bed, almost hoping the damn thing would ricochet onto the floor and smash. It was Saturday and his boss at Sunhara Enterprises had actually made a personal call to him; for the first time since he had worked there he had actually been personally commissioned by the man to deliver a presentation to a close business partner of his. A relatively well known company calledAction Corp was something he could have only dreamt of being involved with and yet now he found himself almost dreading the outcome. It was practically unheard of for the haughty man to give any of his staff such an opportunity and considering the plans Shivam had carved out for himself, he really didn't have any choice but to accept. He flopped onto the bed, looking up at the ceiling fan as his straight hair fell over his eyes and swallowed hard; Shivam replayed the conversation in his mind just knowing that this would end catastrophically somehow. "Your work has been exemplary these past few months Shivam... so I'm depending on you to get our products on this client's radar. This guy is big bucks and I don't want to lose him by sending anyone else. There is one more thing, however... you may not like it but it's what I need you to do. I've heard the rumours pertaining to you and your wife and quite frankly I don't really care for the truth; your personal problems are not myproblems. I know you have worked well together in the past and all I want to know is can you work together now?... Keep in mind that if you get this client I will personally see to it that you receive the remainder of the funding you need for your training and courses... that's how important this client is... So... I will expect you and your wife to be fully prepared in less than one month's time and you can assure me it wont pose a problem?"

Shivam threw his arm over his face and sighed out in quiet exasperation at his predicament even though he knew why Gupta was offering him the opportunity. In an attempt to escape the hellish atmosphere at home, he had worked extra shifts from early in the cold mornings before any of his colleagues had even made their way to work to late in the evenings, exhausted and weary to his bare bones. His broad chest rose and fell deeply as he thought about her pinned against the wall, the golden light seeping into her pretty irises as he had suckled and feasted on her mouth. Holy f**k, what am I going to do? He swallowed again, his black trousers feeling tight below his hips as the needful ache in his abdomen spread all the way to his tingling fingers, as though his nerve endings had memorised the feel of her need for him. It had been almost a week of waking up in the twilight hours before dawn and returning home only to hide himself away in his room as he tried everything to avoid her. Even though he had missed dinner with the family every night since, he had found the tiffins of food left in his room after returning from his shower, her signature left all over the place by the way she dished it out in the quantities she knew he liked. His mother had complained to him at first, determined to get him to sit at the table with the rest of them as Riya looked on from her corner. He couldn't do it anymore; he had barely been able to eat infront of her before he had lost his mind on the balcony but now he felt so disgusted with himself he didn't want to eat even if he knew she had eaten before himself. He had tasted her, loved her with his body only to shun her yet again; would it be any wonder if she felt like he had used her for his sole pleasure? He was convinced that she had been disgusted by his behaviour having never kissed her with such voracity. It didn't matter that she keened into him or had wrapped her arms around his neck, because of course his own arousal had swept her along with him... but what had he done after? He had spat out more acidic words, telling her that she shouldn't try to make more of it than it was. Hadn't he essentially admitted that he had simply used her to satiate his desire in the moment? That it hadn't been about love or tenderness? When the truth was the only reason he had slammed himself into her was because he loved her, because he couldn't stand the tears and her self-degradation and if his body had had other ideas then it couldn't be helped. He was a man and he had needs; looking at her pretty eyes and those heart shaped lips every day without any form of relief except his midnight imaginings had turned him into a coiled ball of tension. After the maelstrom of the feverish kisses had died down he was sure that in the clear light of day she could be nothing but repulsed by his lecherous behaviour. Didn't women want tenderness... soft caresses and gentleness? Yet what had he done? He had mauled her, bruised her lips with his desperate kisses as his teeth had raked against her lips and skin erotically...God... he had even pulled at her clothes, baring her skin to him so exposed and out in the open... How the hell was he supposed to look her in the face again? And yet she continued to leave food for him in his room making him feel even worse, as if she could pretend that nothing had happened. Well he couldn't; he felt ashamed of himself because no matter how he had behaved, no matter how much he desired her he would nothave her. It couldn't happen again goddammit. As if that hadn't complicated matters enough between them, he was sure that his behaviour with her would have given her hope. Hope that he was softening; that he would take her back and love her the way she needed to be loved. He shook his head feeling sick with himself; he would have to take steps to rectify that because the last thing he wanted was for her to begin to believe that he was anything but the piece of shit that he was behaving as. And he was; even if it was all a f**king pretence, even if he wished he could gather her onto his lap and bury his face in her hair, he was the asshole. He had to be.

He hadn't even gotten over what had happened six short days ago and now his boss had essentially ordered him to work on a major presentation with a wife he wanted to f**k and lick and suck but wasn't even speaking to. Eventually he would have to tell her the news and if she didn't agree after the way he had behaved with her then he would just have to convince Gupta to give him a chance and allow him to rope the client in by himself. Either way... whatever had happened on the balconywouldn't be happening again.

He easily swung himself upright, the chiselled muscles of his abdomen keeping the movement smooth and seemingly effortless as he sat up again. It hadn't just been his work efforts that had improved and put him dead centre on the boss's radar; his permanently tense state of being and mind had propelled him to tear and rebuild every plane of muscle in his body with the vigorous workout sessions he had imposed on himself. If anything it had been a method of catharsis, sweating out the rippling lust and twisting heartache out of his body at least for those few hours everyday. He felt healthier, fitter and stronger than he ever had before even if he was exhausted beyond belief; his food intake had decreased, however, he kept his high metabolism up by consuming lean protein and vegetables whilst avoiding the heavy aloo parathas that his mother used to make for him especially. It seemed that Riya had been the only one aware in the change of his eating habits; not only a few times in the last month or so had he found tiffins full of cooked meat in snack size chunks left in his room. When he had tasted it the first time, his mouth had instantly watered and he hadn't known who had cooked it until he had spied her in the kitchen in the twilight hours of the morning before work, sauteing the meat in the delicious spices. She had looked tired, still in her night sari as she rushed about the kitchen as quietly as she could and he had had the urge to walk in on her, to wrap his arms around her waist from behind and kiss her neck; thatwould have stopped her ridiculous but sweet morning adventures in the kitchen just to feed him. His heart had both ached and raged at itself when he saw her; her efforts surely wasted on a jerk like him. He hadn't acknowledged it and he certainly hadn't thanked her for it, however, neither had he been able to leave the food behind after seeing for himself how early she would wake to cook for him. And so he took the small tiffin to work whenever he found it sitting on the dressing table after his shower; it was invariably the only times he would have lunch at the office even as Bunty would look at him with accusation in her eyes making it all that more difficult to swallow the juicy meat. It was only natural that her best friend hated him; in all honesty he welcomed it, was even proud that the spritely girl loved Riya enough to scorn him. From the way Riya used to talk about her to him he had come to believe they were more like sisters than friends and it had been something that never bothered him; in fact, he was grateful that she had such a close friend having grown up as an only child. At least she had someone on her side to confide in who wasn't completely f**king insane and viperous. Bunty had tried to confront him almost over a month ago, intercepting him in the bustling city centre whilst on his way to a stall and he had made sure she understood just how little he gave a damn about Riya. The look of disgust on her face had had a curious effect on him, both warming his heart and shrivelling it at the same time; he was thankful that Riya had someone who had her back, who loved her enough to put herself out there even as he had insulted Bunty and told her to go marry Riya herself if she loved her so much. God... that had been a low blow but he knew she would report back to Riya and sure enough his wife had greeted him with the most stunning and animated angry scowl the moment he had returned home from work. Even now he could remember her words to him, slicing through him like a hot knife. "I know you're angry with me Shivam... I know you probably hate the sight of me and never want to see me again... but did you have to be so rude to Bunty? She is only being my friend..." When she had talked about his hating the sight of her and never seeing her again, he had felt his stomach twist in such unpleasantness that he had snapped back at her, bringing tears to her eyes yet again even as he had regretted it. "It doesn't make a difference to me whether you're here or not, let alone hate the sight of you. And if you don't want me to be rude to Bunty then you should tell her to mind her own business... tell her to get a life of her own. In fact, why don't you go and join her if you're so sure I don't want to see you again." He hadn't been able to relax his jaw as he spoke the acerbic words knowing exactly how vicious he sounded; if he hadn't been mistaken he was sure she had chosen to stay in Shanti Sadan out of her stubbornness and anger at him, at least in that moment. Even as he had hoped she would pack her things and leave Narak Sadan he had been infinitely relieved that she was still there the following morning, the feeling so acute that he was sure he had taken his first real breath upon seeing her curled up form on the lower terrace since they had spoken to one another.

Shivam shook his head for a second in the hopes of dislodging the memories from his head brimming with her; by the sounds of things they had company downstairs even if he already knew it was buaji with her shrill and whiny voice permeating through the house.

*

"Preeti, beta... go and bring me some juice. My mouth is so dry walking all the way to Shanti Sadan... quickly now huh... and bring whatever food you have! Amit hasn't had anything to eat all day either" the woman glanced at Shanti before continuing, "the poor boy works hard and barely eats, you know Amma" Riya watched as Preeti's mouth twisted into a bitter grimace and she mentally prepared herself for what was to come. "Of course Buaji, I never left Shanti Sadan so please, continue treating me like your servant. My husband is one anyway. You walked all the way from your house, god forbid you walk to the kitchen" Riya was sure she would have actually laughed out loud in surprise had she not been completely taken back by Preeti's new depths of bitterness; if she wasn't careful Preeti would one day look in the mirror only to see a younger version of her buajieven if buaji fully deserved the dressing down. "Preeti! Enough of your nonsense! What is wrong with you?! She is your bua, you have always brought her food and drink, what is the big problem now you are married?" Riya carried on sifting the bright orange lentils, occasionally looking up as she watched yet another drama unfold within these four walls. "Ma... if you want to be buaji's slave for the rest of your life then go ahead. Like you said, I'm married now. You forced me to marry a man who looks like a beggar so I'm stuck in this house. But don't expect me to act like one... you love buaji so much, you serve her. Like you always do ma" with that she turned away to head back to her hole that was her bedroom, leaving three mouths opening and closing like fish out of water as Chanda watched quietly from her perch next to dadi. Riya watched in mild disgust as Mummyji rushed to the kitchen to arrange for bauji's usual array of home-made snacks as she muttered incoherently at her daughter's audacious words. She might have felt sorry for Mummyji when she had first gotten to know her, but her pity had soon turned to a kind of hopeless acceptance that mummyji seemed to rather enjoy doting on her sister-in-law and Ammaji; no matter how much they berated her or insulted her to her face, she took it with a smile and genuinely didn't seem to mind how they behaved with her. If Mummyji wasn't suffering because of it then who was she to feel sorry for her? The woman obviously had the ability to shout and the confidence to make her feel small and insignificant and so she simply couldn't believe that Shivam's mother was as innocent and docile as her children seemed to think. Maybe it was the advantage of being an objective observer, someone new with a fresh set of eyes but either way it didn't matter; as far as this family was concerned she was the snake and knew nothing of maintaining relationships when the truth was it was all she had wanted to do. That, and getting closer to her husband.

Every single time she thought of him, even for a second, her heart started hammering. The memory of his full mouth and heated body pressing into her as he had sought out her skin and tongue and hair made her throat ache. He had never kissed her like that before. She had read about it, sure. Long before she had met Shivam, she had flipped through the pages of her taboo romance books in the dead of night; her small lamp by her bedside table as Sahil and dad snored blissfully asleep in their rooms. Yes, she had read about heated kisses that seemed to last for hours, she had bit her lip imagining what it would feel like to be kissed and touched like that but knowing that it would never happen. But by the goddess, her imaginings and fantasies hadn't even come close to the truth of how her body had reacted. Her breathing hadn't understood the concept of rhythm anymore, breathing out air and sucking in his breath into her lungs almost at the same time, unable to breathe in enough of him. Had she known her breasts could ache the way they had she would have long ago pressed her body into him every chance she could; she had been sure they had swelled with the sensation of his rock hard chest and his heart thumping into her and through their clothes. She couldn't stop reliving the the erotic way he had pushed his hard length into her belly, making her abdominal muscles contract and shiver in anticipation of what her body instinctively understood. Her nipples had hardened painfully the moment he had pulled her veil away from her body, his super heated hands roaming all over her bare waist; she had been so self-conscious that he would notice the change in her breasts that she had pulled the veil back, not wanting to appear wanton. As if pushing and grinding herself against him hadn't already made it very clear just how much she had wanted him! And so after he had pulled away so suddenly, accusing her of seducing him and making her feel that they had done something wrong was it any wonder that she had felt ashamed of herself? Was it even normal for a husband and wife to kiss each other like that? She had lost all sense of self-preservation as she completely lost herself in his heat and intensely masculine scent. Even now she felt the flush over her cheeks as she remembered how she had thrust her tongue into his hot mouth. I can't believe I actually did that... she groaned inwardly with embarrassment for the hundredth time in the last six days since it happened. She hadn't meant to be so forward; her body had simply taken over and reacted to his hunger and all she had wanted to do was please him, mesh with him. His tongue had been lapping at hers, caressing over her lips before sucking on her own tongue as he tried to coax her to relax and let him take over. She had always known that he was the dominant half in the relationship; even if he respected her enough to listen to her opinions and took care of her, there was still an aspect to him that made her feel like he was her alpha, hard and strong and in control. However, never would she have guessed that that dominance was part of his obvious need to dominate her in the bedroom; his confident hands and his movements had drawn out such desperately feminine sounds from her lungs that she never knew she was capable of making. Even in her lust filled haze she recognised the miniscule signs of tenderness as the deep moans of his voice had given away his need to meld with her. He might have only wanted her on a physical level but she couldn't ignore the way he had made her feel desirable, nibbling on her lips in-between his voracious hunger for her. Stop it Riya. Stop! She mentally chastised herself trying with all her might to blank her mind; she was already aroused just remembering that late afternoon, she didn't need to make a spectacle of herself infront of the whole family! Remember what he told you afterwards. He still doesn't want me here. He doesn't even want me to look at him.Riya tried to remember the things he had said to her in the aftermath, her lips swollen and needing more. And even if she remembered every single word and how each one had stabbed her in the heart after the way he had held her she still couldn't shake the overpowering and eclipsing memory of his touch. She had finally been ready to go, to pack her small suitcase and leave Shanti Sadan, to leave the man she loved more than life itself; to let him be happy in his new life without her. The wracking tears that had left her lungs as she had leaned against the balcony wall had blistered through her soul, only making her realise just how insignificant she was to him. And then he had sought her out, he had gone and kissed her again... and confusing the hell out of her. Even if he hadn't meant to, even if he had simply been responding to his body's need to touch her she couldn't bring herself to leave. Not now. She had promised herself that she would only go if she was convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt that he truly didn't love her. Well... she wasn't convinced. She hated that she had let herself sink so low, that she was allowing him to play with her feelings like this... but what the hell was she supposed to do? She was in love with him. She was suffering from an affliction that turned people imbecilic and desperate and the truth was if he hadn't have kissed her, she would be gone by now. His words had said one thing and yet his actions had said another... and until the two matched she would never know the truth of what was going on with him.

Riya returned back to the present, unsure as to how much time had passed since her heated and feverish thoughts had taken over. Preeti had long gone and now she could feel the uneasy sensation of unwanted eyes on her. She looked in the direction her intuition had sent her, regretting it almost immediately as her eyes connected with Amit's, his own eyes looking unpleasantly severe and crude at the same time. He made her skin crawl and not for the first time had she thanked God himself for escaping a marriage with him; surely a life of pure hell, her present situation would no doubt look like a walk in a meadow compared to what she would have had to endure with a man like him and a mother-in-law like buaji. She looked away almost as soon as their eyes met, knowing that he was still staring at her and wishing Shivam was nearby. Even if everyone knew they were no longer living as husband and wife, she was sure Amit wouldn't have the gall to stare at her so conspicuously infront of Shivam. She liked that Shivam intimidated him even if he would never admit it; afterall he had always been a coward with a nasty greedy streak that mirrored that of his mother's. The ache in her throat and her heart hit her out of nowhere as she felt the sting in her eyes threatening to turn into tears. I miss you... I miss the way you used to protect me from the world... I miss my hand in yours... He had always taken care of her, even if he had been angry with her he had never let her fend for herself or struggle alone. If she sprained her ankle he would be there to lift her up, if a man came onto her or inserted himself into her space he was there to fend them off; the number of times he had stood up to their manager at Sunhara Enterprises alone was testament enough that he would never have allowed another to mistreat her. Hadn't Mr. Gupta berated her and scolded her infront of the entire staff on occasion? And what had Shivam done but force the man to back off, going so far as to ask him to apologise even if he had outright refused. He had kept her safely tucked away in the palm of his hands and the centre of his beating heart and she had felt like the most cherished woman in all the world. It was what had made the last several months unbearable, the sudden change in his personality had crushed her heart as if he had been demolishing and stripping it bare layer by layer until there was only a raw agony left behind. She would never be able to understand how a man who loved her so completely had turned into someone she barely recognised anymore. And yet... the way he had carried her up the stairs after hurting her palm... the love with which he had dressed her wound and the way he had kissed her and touched her... he had even cleaned up the mess she had made in the kitchen long before she had woken up. It reminded her of the wound on his own hand and she wondered if he had cut himself just as she had; however, he hadn't let her anywhere near him after their heated coupling against the balcony wall, neither had she the courage to seek him out lest she see the look of disgust in his eyes at her behaviour with him. She could see remnants of her Shivam as well as parts of Shivam she had never thought existed; the passion that he had unleashed on her lately had sent her into a tailspin, unsure of what the hell it all meant and if her battered heart was simply beating out a desperate message of hope in its naivety.

*

Even as he walked down the concrete stairs he couldn't help but look at his cousin, the man's lascivious eyes already snaking over his wife as he watched her from the shadows like a bad omen. Every time he looked at him he could practically taste the bile in his throat; the man gave meaning to the word revulsion and since having found out he bet his own wife in a game of cards he was sure he would have dragged him over a f**king cliff had he not been his own cousin. In all honesty he didn't give a damn what familial relationship he shared with the lowlife, but it didn't mean he could ignore how much he meant to his dad or the rest of the family. He couldn't deny that it still hurt that his own father seemed to trust and love his sister's son more than his own, however, he had long ago accepted it and he tried to focus on not caring whether his father approved of him or not anymore. It didn't seem to matter what he did or didn't do; "Guard" Raghav was never happy with his own son and so it was only natural that Shivam felt the vast chasm between himself and the man he called Papaji grow a little more each day. He mumbled a perfunctory welcome to buaji, never taking his eyes off Amit until he himself finally looked at the object of his cousin's attentions. At the object of his incessant thoughts these past few days, as though she had physically become part of his brain and heart. She was sat in the corner of the communal room looking like some unwanted cast off, her gorgeous cheeks aflame and pink as she fidgeted with the lentils in her discomfort. Shivam swung his eyes back to Amit, the pig hadn't even registered his presence as he continued to ogle his wife without shame; before he even realised what he was doing, he walked straight ahead and blocked the man's view of Riya. What he hadn't counted on was ending up stood right next to Chanda. Almost in comical slow motion he watched as Chanda's face flushed and Amit's face paled as if one had sucked the blood right out of the other; he would have inwardly smirked if he hadn't been all to ready to grab Amit by his hair and ram his face into the same wooden pillar he was leaning into.

"Aah... look how Shivam and Chanda look so lovely together, eh Sarla? I tell you, you brought a blessing into this house by finding this girl. Just by looking at her I feel like she has undone all the bad omens that the previous bahu brought into my house..." Shivam inwardly contracted at her words, describing Riya as a "previous" anything went against everything real and true within him. He couldn't even stand Amit staring at her from across the room, never mind thinking of her as hisprevious wife. As far as he was concerned she was still his even if he was acting like a hypocritical bas***d; tearing at her clothes one minute, tasting her mouth the next only to verbally reject and dismiss her like she was a mere piece of lint to him. She wasn't his previous anything as far as he was concerned and his Dadi-ji could go straight to hell. However, Shivam kept his mouth shut; despite how much he missed her and needed her close to him, he loved her too much to selfishly keep her in this house. And so he simply forced the wretched smile on his face, smiling at no one in particular and making sure that Riya could see him even as he felt ill doing it. He didn't look at her; he couldn't, not when he knew he was hurting her yet again after the last time they had been alone and so instead he turned his hatred onto Amit's still pale face and giving that useless waste of space his full attention. "So Amit... how is your wife these days? Have you been spoiling her with all that money Bua-ji says you've been earning... or are you still trying to make money out of her?" Shivam couldn't help the tight and hateful smile on his face as Amit's glare turned murderous. That's right you piece of shit. Come at me and see what I do to you. Stare at her one more time and just give me one more reason to smack that damned face right off your skull. Shivam curled his lips back for a split second as he fisted his palm unconsciously before levelling his features once more lest his entire family guess his thoughts. His question had no doubt been rude and inappropriate but after having seen him stare so unashamedly at Riya yet again he couldn't help the hatred flowing out of his mouth. He was barely keeping his patience in check after the recent and heated events with Riya and seeing him look at her with anything but brotherly love was like dangling raw meat infront of a lion. "Ah... Shivam... betaaa... How are you, beta? We have barely seen you at Shanti Sadan when we visit. You shouldn't be working so hard, huh? You are still young... you have a lot to give, huh? You are such a good-looking boy, you shouldn't get so angry all the time. But...uh...em..." Shivam narrowed his eyes at her as she seemed to realise her slip, his aunt's eyes turning into orbs as she looked back and forth from him to Chanda. "Of course you are not alwaysangry... he has such a good heart, doesn't he Amma? And so hard working! He needs someone to look after him, cook tasty food for him. If he had had a wife to take good care of him he wouldn't be so angry..." her sing-song voice grated on his already raw nerves, his own eyes naturally swinging to Riya as her face dropped in unending sadness and keeping her eyes cast down; her small fingers were barely sifting through the lentils as she tried to keep the facade up. "You are right didi... he has been working too much these days. He is so tense... my poor boy can't even live in his own home because of this woman. She just sits there in the corner ominously like a ghost doing nothing but watch us all day... I curse the day she walked into this house..." he felt the sudden shock and sting hit the base of his skull at his mother's cold and cruel words, not able to process how the same mother who had so lovingly given Riya her mother's necklace now practically laughed at her infront of the whole world. He knew where the change had started even if he hadn't wanted to accept it in the beginning; his dadi had spent half a lifetime making his mother feel like she owed her her life and it seemed that now she actually believed she did. Even sacrificing the happiness of her son and daughters to do it. The realisation hadn't escaped him even if he still couldn't help but pity her, but goddammit, she wasn't making it easy for him to continue feeling sorry for her; these days she seemed fully capable of standing up for herself even if her target was Riya in her vastly vulnerable state. His once sweet and gentle mother had changed, of that he was sure. "Ha! Hahahaha!... I am surprised to hear you say this babhi! Shabash! She really does look like a ghost in that old sari... Heeheehee! Her own husband can't bear to look at her, never mind us. Shameful girl... I don't know what she is doing here... chi chi chi..." Shivam kept his head turned down even as his arctic and hard eyes turned to buaji, every syllable and vowel spewing from her foul thoughts and out through her ugly mouth making him want to roar the roof down as she continued her shrill cackling at Riya's expense. He sucked the air in through his nose, filling his lungs up until he took as a calming a breath out as he could before speaking in controlled tones and letting only a crack of a smile barely touch his face, "Bua-ji... I hear Phufa-ji has set up a new stall with Nirmala. I met her once, she's a lovely woman. She takes good care of him, making sure he eats and drinks while they work close together all day. He always seems his happiest when I see them together, you must be proud he found the perfect business partner, Buaji" he smiled at her again, the fabricated warmth only touching his lips and never reaching his eyes; he felt the lightness touch his heart as he watched the rancor for him suffuse her face. "And now I hear Nirmala is living with you and Phufa-ji at the Railway Colony? She must be just like a member of the family... a Choti Ma for Rani babhi, no? You're lucky to have her. We all know how much you hate cooking, now she can take over and feed your family instead... Phufa-ji will love home cooked food other than ma's. Amit too, Im sure..." He couldn't help but sneak a peek at Riya's face even for a second needing to know that his words to buaji had wiped the pain off her face. He spied the tiniest tug of her mouth turned up at the corner before she hid it away as her eyes remained cast down. Just seeing the whisper of a smile on her face as he verbally stripped buaji had made his heart soar. If his dadi was the witch then his bua was the foul bubbling cauldron that she stirred night and day; both of them could go f**k themselves if they thought he would let them cackle in their glee at his wife's expense even as he stood right there. Yes, he had wanted to drive Riya out of Shanti Sadan and up until a few days ago he would have forced himself to endure his entire family spewing their verbal acid at her. But something had shifted in him since he had let his guard down and allowed himself to touch her, to love her if only with his hands and his lips. If anyone was going to hurt her now it would be him and as hypocritical as that sounded he didn't care anymore; he couldn't stand the way they ripped her to shreds right in front of him. He couldn't stand it before and yet now even in his need to protect her from a life of misery in this place, he had at some point decided that he would shield her as best he could from their combined viciousness. He didn't need them to drive her out; he was doing a fantastic f**king job of that himself wasn't he? Afterall wasn't it he that hurt her the most every time he insulted her and shouted at her? If he had to drive her out, he would commit the sin of hurting her himself, otherwise the rest of them could all go to hell; she was his and only his to drive out. He didn't dare linger on her face in case she turned up to look at him and so he looked back to his bua's face, the hateful scowl over her lips as her beady eyes bore into him barely making a dent in his countenance. He didn't give a shit; she could stare all she wanted, if she wanted to play dirty then it wasn't beneath him either. It was then in the middle of their silent staring contest that dadi interjected, her usual taunts directed at Riya yet again and no doubt in an attempt to dissipate the unexpressed belligerence between an aunt and her nephew. "You really are a bad omen in this house Riya, look how horrible the atmosphere becomes when you are around. Even now you dress like a dead bride... wandering the house like a ghost. Maybe you really did throw yourself in the Ganges and we just didn't know!" She cackled in her foul and viperous sense of humour, encouraging her audience to chuckle along with her as in one fell swoop she brought tears to Riya's eyes again. His fists clenched as the mental image of his hands wrapped around dadi-ji's throat solidified in his head for the first time in his life and yet still he somehow said nothing. "Aren't you fedup of these clothes? Don't you want to go back home and live your life? Look at what a sad state you are, such a shame how you have ended up and it is all your own fault... tssst tsst..." Shivam heard dadi end her piece as she clicked her tongue in derision, his eyes still fixed on Riya as she turned her pretty eyes up to the old hag. Even as he was finally about to open his mouth and shut his dadi up for the first time in his life, knowing that his scolding her would cause yet more drama to ensue, he found himself interrupted by the only beautiful heart in the entire room. His heart swelled with pride and a touch of humour as he took in her confident words even if he hadn't missed the embarrassment she must have felt as they laughed at her infront of him. "Dadi-ji... you didn't like it when I dressed in my normal clothes, you wanted me to wear saris every day. Even then I wasn't behaving like the perfect bahu. Now you don't like it when I wear the same clothes as you. Even when I am learning to cook and clean and look after a family... still I go to work and earn a salary. What should I do next? Wear a mini skirt or some shorts? Nothing will make you happy, so I may as well haunt you like a ghost... at least if you try to kill me in my sleep, I'll already be dead so you'llnever be able to get rid of me" with that she offered dadiji her most dazzling smile even if he hadn't missed the heart breaking tears that she swiped away with the back of her hand, leaving the old woman sputtering in outrage at her brash response. God... he was so proud of her; even as she was being verbally bashed she was confident enough to talk back and defend herself. He had been ready to defend her no matter how it had appeared to his family... or even to her; the old crone had crossed the f**king line by talking about death and ghosts and his heart had clenched at the mere thought of it. What the hell was wrong with this woman? Was there a lump of dead coal where her heart should be? Riya was exactly what his dadi needed; a strong, confident woman who could hold her own and return his dadi's particular brand of kindness. He mentally shook the thoughts out of his head needing to halt the rage in its tracks, his mind now already conjuring up images to match his wife's evocative words. Shivam's eyes darkened at her earlier innocent words; images of his wife's incredible body garbed in the small tight clothes he had often seen affluent women in the city wearing on their way to work or rushing from one high rise building to the next in their busy schedules. He had looked; he was a man... but he never really lingered or paid much attention other than a passing glance. However, now as he pictured Riya dressed like that just for him and preferably alone and in the privacy of their bedroom, his blood started to heat and race all at the same time. He truly hated those damned saris she insisted on wearing, for once agreeing with his dadi on something if only for entirely different reasons. He had nearly walked in on her once, catching himself just in time or too soon depending on your perspective as she had been drying herself fresh out of the shower. He had entered the small washroom suite connected to their bedroom for their personal use as husband and wife. He had turned back around so quickly at her stern voice telling him that she was inside, almost giving himself whiplash. However, he had had a blessed glimpse of her silhouette through the frosted glass partition in the billowing steam of the room and he was sure his brain had turned to mush, already memorising each perfect curve from her shapely hips to the incredibly sexy swell of her breasts. He had ached to simply walk in, to take his fill with his eyes and let her squirm infront of him; to watch the pretty blush effuse her beautiful cheeks and sink into her chest and lower still as he took her in. But of course he hadn't, simply walking out as his own erection drove him f**king mad with desire at just a glimpse of her and only wanting to respect her privacy so early in the relationship. He had soothed himself in the belief that they would eventually become physically intimate in time, when she was ready and less shy but of course that hadn't happened; not with his screwed up family constantly trying to sabotage everything they shared with one another. And by just shy of an entire year it was too damned late wasn't it? By then he had decided to get her out himself... on the one hand glad for her that he hadn't touched her, that he hadn't taken her virginity... and on the other hand loathing himself for having not touched his own wife, for having not shown her just what she did to him or how well he could love her with his body as well as his heart. Was it any f**king wonder that he was permanently angry? What the hell kind of man wouldn't be?! The sexual and emotional frustration had taken its toll and of course he had taken it out on her, using her as his muse to convince her that he was the worst possible man on the face of the planet; that she deserved better than him. She did... God... she deserved so much better and still she held on to him like he was her water and air. He stared at her now, his throat going dry as his heart reacted to her sweet innocence and softness and his body reacted to the images of her dressed in little else but scraps of silks that he would choose for her. He wondered if things had been different, if they had been happy and whole and allowed to be the way they were meant to be... he wondered if she would let him buy her such things to wear for him, if she would enjoy the way he ached to touch her and make her body soar as he whispered tender sweet nothings into her ear...or things that would make her blush and squirm for more even in her embarrassment. He wondered what could have been. From their recent and intensely heated encounters with one another he had for a moment no doubt that she wanted him the way he wanted her... but it only served to break his already broken heart into smaller pieces knowing that it would never be. He let his heart ache out the painful thudding in his chest before tearing his eyes and aroused thoughts away from her, amazed that not having even touched her or spoken to her in six days that she could have such an intense effect on him. She was his drug and she didn't even know it and... he couldn't let her know it.

"Besharam! Chi! What a disgusting thing to say... mini skirts! Are you listening Shivam? This is the kind of shameless person you married. Thank god you signed the divorce papers... this modernshameful woman would have ruined your life. Mark my words... God has saved you from such an ominous alliance... look at Chanda here. Such a good girl, always wearing colourful saris and looking beautiful. Such a sanskari girl... oh if only you were the bahu of this house Chandaaa... we would have the Goddess' blessings showered on us!" He had had enough, his patience almost obsolete before he put his dadi back in her place this time, "Dadiji... I really don't care about pretty saris or sanskari people; with all respect that is for your generation" As much respect as I can fit through the eye of a needle, maybe... he thought bitterly feeling not even a particle of respect for the old harpy. "There are more important things in life than being cultured and wearing saris... like having a good heart and being a genuine person" he rushed through the words knowing they were falling on deaf and baffled ears, "and speaking of saris... wasn't it you who gave them to Chanda?" He had really had enough of everyone singing the woman's praises; even if Riya hadn't been here he would have been ready to lay out some home truths. "She came here from nowhere... buaji says she is Phufa-ji's relation and yet he hasn't come to visit her once. It's strange isn't it? We don't know who her parents are, why other members of phufaji's family haven't come to look for her. You just accept her into this house without checking who she is... I'm surprised after what happened with Mohit staying in this house and messing around with Preeti right under our noses. But what do I know? I may want Riya gone dadiji, but even I will admit that she had warned us. She had told us not to let Mohit or Nandu stay here with two young girls in the house and we ignored her anyway. Now you are letting another stranger live here without even knowing where she comes from?... If something goes wrong dadiji, don't blame Riya this time..." He stood up then, feeling his anger start to wind and coil in his insides at the insipid stupidity of the people around him, wishing that he himself hadn't been part of that ignorance when he had ignored his wife's warnings and trusted the bas***ds who had lived under their roof like unassuming family members. One had eventually kidnapped his sister and half married her and the other had obviously taken full advantage of her vulnerability and given her no choice but to marry him. Even as he had protested, his father had roared at him, calling him all manner of insults and insinuating his immaturity for not forcing Preeti to marry a man she couldn't even stand the sight of. Well it was done now and the decision had never been his to begin with, his sage and wise father killing two birds with one stone; he had married his eldest daughter off and shut her out of his life in the process. That way he would never have to face the truth of his own failures as a father reflected back to him in her eyes. The man had worked damn hard all his life, earning enough to put food on the table and to help his mother to buy Shanti Sadan; but the truth was that Shivam would have gladly traded it all away to have a father who had been present and interested in his and his sisters' lives even if they had lived in a smaller house and struggled more than necessary. He would have given anything to have a father who truly loved him, who was proud of him and trusted him than the man who walked in the front door every other day looking half asleep and miserable with his life. Shivam could count on his one hand the number of times his father had truly smiled at him from the depths of his heart; life was too short to be this way, of that he was sure. And so his need to get Riya the hell away from these people had only solidified. He still wasn't entirely sure if he could leave his mother alone to fend for herself amongst the sharks even if he suspected she was slowly learning their ways... but in the meantime Riya had to leave. She was already a mere shadow of her former self, of the beautiful sprite filled with mischievousness and the impetuousness that he so adored. If she stayed here any longer she would change completely and he couldn't bear it if she did; she was his, no matter how far she went away from him, no matter if she found happiness elsewhere, no matter if she forgot about him like he had been nothing but a bad memory... that light in her eyes and in her smiles... that was his, forever. And he would keep it safe even if it hurt her to do it in the short term. Even if it broke his heart... and even if it killed the light inside of him.

Hey guys! Ok, well woompf! This next instalment is huuuge. I mean its really big, so big I dont even know how many parts there will be to it just yet, but I'll amend this once Ive posted everything. So this is Part Four- B and you should definitely read the previous parts to have any idea what's going on if you want it to make sense 😊 Prior to this is Part One, Two, Three A and B, and Four A.

I will put my WARNING here and say once again to whomever is reading; this piece of fiction (Part Four in its entirety) contains very very adult language including sexually explicit words and situations as well as profanity in keeping within the context of this work. Please do NOT read from here on if you do not want to read this kind of material, it is for adults only and for those who don't mind adult content.
I as usual have no clue of this will get me temporarily banned, but if it does, please just PM me and I will email you the FF directly 😉
Enjoy and of course as always, feedback is always welcome 😊



PART FOUR - B - Please read Part Four - A - before continuing on

"Shivam... how can you talk so rudely to your dadi like this? What has got into you?... You!..." his mother turned to Riya so swiftly that it made him dizzy to watch her, "You were outside yesterday!What were you doing? Have you been doing evil magic on my son? Tell me the truth! My boy neverspeaks like this! I am sick of you being in this house, you horrible girl! Everytime I find you, you are upto no good! Can't you just leave us alone? What do y-" It was then that his patience severed so violently that he actually raised his voice at his mother, her brutal words at the woman he worshipped surely hurting him more than the object of her hate. "Ma! Stop, please!" Her round face contorted into shock before the impending tears threatened to make themselves known. He hadn't been able to help it, only seeing Riya's face crumble and fall further into pain as his mother hurled one savage word after the other at her. He frowned at her in disbelief, unable to process that hismother could even think to speak this way, "She wasn't casting a spell on me for godsakes. Why would you even think that? She doesn't even know how to fry chillies properly never mind cast a spell..." he shook his head, unable to comprehend that his mother had so lost the plot that she was now jumping to completely unfounded conclusions. He had spent hours watching Riya learn to cook with his mother, burning one dish after the other even as his heart had warmed at her efforts. He hadn't minded that she didn't know how to cook and be the perfect housewife; as long as she could feed their children one day and as long as she remained her effervescent self he didn't care, he loved her no matter what. Honing her housework and cooking skills to nothing less than perfection had been upon his mother's and dadi's insistence. Even her first cooked meal had made his eyes water as one bitter dish was replaced by too salty and then not spicy enough... and yet he had eaten every bite knowing how hard she had worked on each dish as his mother had scolded her and praised her in varying measures, their voices floating out of the kitchen for hours on end. The terrified look on her face whilst she had waited for him to taste her cooking for the first time had made him want to pull her onto his lap infront of the whole damned family and kiss her, thank her for loving him so much that she tried something new and different for him. But of course his mother had flapped about the table, embarrassed that she was serving food substandard to her own even if Riya had put all her heart into it. Even if his tastebuds had struggled with her food, his heart had beat deep and fast for the first time as he sat to dinner; the way she had chewed her lip in nervousness had both unwound and coiled his insides simultaneously and he had wanted her, on his lips, in his arms and safely snuggled in his embrace. He hated that his mother had made her feel unworthy and small for not having learnt to cook... but what she had lacked in housework skills she more than made up for in her career and her education and sharp mind. He was proud of her; it was a big part of why he had fallen in love with her and he never wanted it to change. In fact, it was a part of her personality that he had hoped his own sisters would be inspired to explore for themselves, to open doors that would give them confidence and independence and yet they had only learned to hate her instead of learn from her. To this day his beautiful wife hadn't got the hang of frying chillies before they burnt to a smoky and acrid crisp; he had said it without even a hint of bitterness in his heart, having always hated whole chillies anyway.

He couldn't fathom how his mother could jump to such a ridiculous conclusion; Riya was the lastperson who would believe such rubbish and he was right by her side on that. He heard her soft and hurt voice then, the desperation to explain herself evident as it made him feel useless and small.She doesn't need to damn well explain herself, my mother has finally gone mad! "Mummyji... I promise you... I-I would n-never do such a thing. Ever. I love him, Mummyji" he swivelled his hips to Riya as she now stood up, the one tear having made its way down her cheek as her face paled at the ridiculous accusation; his heart beat out another ache as he absorbed her stammering words as she uselessly tried to defend herself, "I was only praying Mummji... I promise you, that's all I was doing. Shivam has been looking so tired and I was o-only praying that the Goddess give him some peace of mind..." Riya shook her head at whatever she saw on his mother's face even as he held his breath at her words of love. He had noticed that Riya had been more than capable of speaking back to dadi, but for some reason she didn't treat his mother with the same language; he both loved her for respecting his mother despite her increasing cruelty just as much as he had started to loathe his mother's behaviour towards her. When he looked back to his mother, her face was flooded with tears no doubt at her son's scolding as well as what she believed to be Riya's lie. "No! You are the reason why my son has no peace. You are! I'm warning you Riya, you might be living in this house but don't you dare pray for my son after what you did to this family and my daughters. After lying to us and pretending that you care. Stop pretending! And keep away from my son, don't even think of him. Do you understand? I've had enough of your games and your lies. You brought the police here and you might have forced yourself here to do god knows what... but don't you come near my son or even think of him! Just leave him alone!" Khushia had almost screamed the last few words out before she turned to Shivam, her anger like rippling water over her face, "And you beta... you're raising your voice at me? You have n-never r-raised your voice at me" her voice trembled and shuddered as she uttered the words, her words eliciting his guilt as she had no doubt intended even as he hated himself for succumbing to it. His mother had been unjustly nasty and vicious to Riya and he couldn't look past it, not this time. She was practically wailing as though someone had died whilst Riya stood silently and heartbroken behind him before he felt her presence by his side. He had tried to keep his voice as level as was humanly possible, "Ma! What is wrong with you? Riya hasn't done anything. I already told you I don't want her back...we... we have another five months and then she will leave. Why are you behaving like this? Are you going to stop her from praying too now? Let her do what she wants, she isn't getting in anyone's way... and she wouldn't curse me ma. I know that much at least..." he trailed off as his mother's shocked and wide open eyes stared up at him in accusation. She obviously couldn't believe that he was defending her even though he had just said that he didn't want her back, even though he knew those few words would punch his wife in the chest; but there was no way that he could let this slide, it was bordering on the barbaric and was most certainly preposterous. "So you're siding with her over me, again? You're going to defend this woman who destroyed this family, huh? And what is so wrong with Chanda? Huh? She cooks and cleans and behaves better in one week than Riya did even after a year of living under this roof!... Do you know something beta... Ammaji was right, I never expected this from you, but you really are a man trailing behind your wife... did you learn nothing from your papaji?" He was sure he could identify the disgust in her eyes as she shook her head vigorously at him, the look on her face so alien and strange to him that for a moment he wondered if this was the same mother who had brought him up, whom he had grown up loving. Even she had started resorting to insulting him and calling him a kept man; didn't they see that he had basically shunned the woman he loved? Did his signing the f**king divorce papers not make it clear enough to them? Now they wanted him to be as vicious and evil as they were acting? No, it wouldn't happen and he wouldn't let this happen either. "Ma... I'm not siding with anyone. But you cant just blindly accuse her of doing black magic and cursing me" even as he said the words he felt ridiculous, not even believing in it to begin with, "She was just praying, Ma. I have signed the divorce papers, she is sleeping on the floor while I sleep in a bed, I barely acknowledge her..." he grit his teeth in his own hatred for himself, "what more do you want? How can you say that to me when I have done what you all wanted? Huh? Tell me... you allgot what you wanted... in five months she will be gone forever and out of my life and still you want to tear her apart? I might not love her anymore Ma, but I wont be so cruel as to blame her unjustly... and you can't compare Riya to Chanda. Riya has spent her life educating herself, making sure she would get a good job and work for a living. She didn't have time to learn to cook and clean like a housewife when she was working all hours of the day" his other words had sliced painfully through his gut and his heart like a blunt knife, hacking away at his insides as he knew she felt it too. He didn't mean any of it; he loved her, he ached to tell her how much he adored her... and just the thought of her out of his life chilled him to the pit of his damned soul. And yet he uttered the words, knowing she needed to hear them, to believe that there was no hope for them. He might have been hanging on to keeping her near him for the next five months but when the time would come he would set her free, like the prettiest bird in the open skies again. He wanted to sit and cry, he wanted to roar and bellow out the thick sludge of pain and hate and anger and unending sadness at the loss of her, he wanted to damn well hit something until his knuckles cracked... except he kept his face level and emotionless, he spoke like a man unaffected even as he sensed her heart breaking silently in her chest whilst she stood only feet away from him. And yet still, inexplicably, she would not go... she wouldn't leave him. She had been ready to go that day, when he had found her on the balcony, he knew she had by the heart wrenching tears that had left her beautiful lips. Was it the kiss that gave her hope? Was she holding onto the memory of his holding her and touching her and praying for some miracle? If she was she would be even more heart broken and hurt... and yet again he would be the one to cause it. He realised with a deadness inside of him that he was damned if he did and damned if he didn't. "And this is the kind of wife you want? A woman who only knows how to work and ride about on her scooter? A woman who cant cook for you and look after your house? When I was her age I didn't need to be told how to cut vegetables and wash clothes! I didn't have time to deceive my elders!" After years upon years of being told how to sit and eat and walk and talk he felt another buckle finally snap over his barely held restraint, "So you want me to marry a carbon copy version of you Ma? Is that it? When you were her age you already had me. You had been married ten years whilst dadi taught you everything... you didn't just get married and magically knew how to do everything. You are the one who has told us that as we grew up, how dadi looked after you... And if Riya lied to you, she apologised for it. You cant hold her fully accountable for what happened to Preeti anymore, Ma. My sisters have to take responsibility for their part in it, they're not children anymore. No one forced Preeti to run out on her own wedding. She's a grown woman, she didn't need to be told this" he sliced his hand through the air as he stressed his point, "No one forced Nimmi to sit in that mandap and keep completing ritual after ritual until she ended up married to Vyom... Riya had lied and covered up their mistakes in some misguided attempt to protect them. She didn't do it for herself! She apologised for her part in it... but has Preeti apologised? Has Nimmi? I can't keep my mouth shut knowing they are just as much to blame for what happened if not more. I'm not supporting Riya... but I wont support my sisters' actions either"he had sneered out his earlier words about dadi "looking after" his mother, unable to hide his sarcasm as his mother's face actually started to shake in her shock at her son's newfound voice. "I love Papaji, Ma. But I'm not him. I never wanted a wife to clean up after me and cook for me while she waited hand and foot on me. I've watched you do that your entire life for this family and I wouldnever put my wife through that... I have my own dreams. Goals. There are things I want to do with my life other than keeping a wife under my thumb" his heart hammered like echoing drums in his chest as his outburst started to deflate in his realisation of where he was and infront of whom he was speaking in such a manner. His mother scoffed out loud then, the look unbecoming on her face as the tears continued to pour incessantly, "Vaah beta... now I know how you really feel. I disgust you that much?" she sobbed her heart out infront of him pulling out a strange mixture of guilt and resentment for her in his heart, "If you can support her this much then why did you sign the divorce papers?! Huh? Why, tell me why?!" her trembling voice turned shrill and harsh as she let the question hang in the air, all eyes focussed on them. His chest twisted as he shouted out the words, "Because she never fit in with this family! Because I never should have married her in the first place!... Is that what you wanted to hear? She doesn't belong with people like us" he felt his eyes flood with his heinous words as soon as he had bellowed them out, the barbs they were laced with surely stripping at Riyas heart as he blinked back his own tears before they fell out of his eyes. If she had had any doubt that he loved her before then he was sure he had annihilated it; any moment now she would walk away and leave him broken and empty like a vacuous shell of a man who didn't deserve anyone's love, let alone hers. "No... you shouldn't have married her. That's exactly what I wanted to hear. She can never belong with people like us beta... you should be with a girl like Chanda, one day you will understand why cooking and cleaning are so important. You might think it is stupid and pointless, you might even laugh at me... but one day when you have children, you will understand its importance. And Riya was the eldest, she should have known better. She should have protected the izzat of this family, not protecting her sisters-in-law by hiding it from us" she pointed a shaky finger at him, accusatory hurt in her eyes. He could never laugh at his mother; she had sweated blood and tears to raise the three of them as dadi and bua took advantage of her, making her work even through illness and bad days. But still that didn't give her the right to judge Riya; she might have been a career-oriented girl but she had the intelligence to learn new skills. She certainly had the ability to learn to cook and clean if she could do maths and deliver hour-long presentations to high-levelled businessmen. He believed in her even if no one else did; just knowing how hard she had tried to keep his ridiculous family together had showed him what an amazing mother she would have been to his children. He closed his eyes for a moment, focussing on swallowing the pain at the thought of giving up the person who should have been the mother of his babies. He felt sick as his head spun. Shivam opened his eyes and looked back at his mother, seeing now a stranger infront of him for the first time even if he still wouldn't give up on her. He couldn't believe she cared more about the family reputation than her daughter being kidnapped by a mad man; God only knew what more might have happened to Preeti had Riya not been there to distract Mohit and yet his mother still couldn't see it. As stupid as Riya had been and as angry as he had been at her for not seeking out his help, he knew her heart had been in the right place... she had even possibly saved Preeti from worse horrors than kidnapping and he would be grateful to her for that for the rest of his life. If Mohit had done the unspeakable to Preeti then his entire family would have had a lot more to worry about than her running out on her own wedding. But the truth was his mother had started to care more for what dadi and the rest of society thought of her than her children's happiness and peace of mind; afterall, hadn't she enthusiastically agreed with dadi to marry Preeti to Nandu less than a few hours after Mohit had traumatised her and Riya? He knew his mother interpreted his words differently, believing that he was undermining Riya and making it sound like she didn't deserve him and his family when his meaning had been the complete opposite. His family didn't deserve a clear-hearted woman like her, a woman whose genuineness and truthfulness was suffused in her very bones and blood itself... she was too good for them. Too good for a man like him. He felt his heart deflate in defeat, hopeless and empty as his family truly got what they had wanted after he shunned her so publically yet again; the knowledge of his wife's breaking heart still threatened to spill his tears as he blinked them back again, now looking at his mother's wrath in sombreness. "I wouldn't dare to laugh at you Ma. I jus-" She interrupted him, her voice achingly gentle and sounding infinitely weary and alone, "Please... Shivam... just leave it. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I did anything. I don't want you and Mummyji to fight because of me... I'm going-" His heart nearly stopped right there and then, the words tumbling out of his mouth before he realised he had interrupted her, "Where are you going?" he growled out as he turned to her, really not wanting her to move even an inch away from him never mind out the front door; she said five months and he would not let her go until he had no choice left anymore. She looked at him in puzzlement before masking it away beneath her sadness, "I'll leave you alone here with the family for a while, I'm just making things worse being here. I'll stay out of your way while I cook my food... I promise I wont bother you for the rest of the day..." He tried to swallow the cold lump of pain stuck in his throat as it suffocated him, the silent tears flowing freely over her face now at her mother-in-law's nasty accusations. How could he let her live like this for the rest of her life? How? No matter how much he loved her and wanted to keep her by his side she would never be free of them, not unless he left his family and once he did, he would never be welcomed back. Maybe even his own sisters would disown him. He loved his mother; he worried for her... he had spent his lifetime worrying about her as though it had become second nature to him and he couldn't just turn it off like a switch... Could he just leave her, abandon her to his dadi and bua, even to a husband who was barely present? She would only get older and more frail, having to fend for herself and alone with two women who had spent their lives turning her into their personal slave. Not for the first time was he tempted to grab his wife's hand and simply walk out to never look back again... and yet his worries for his mother continued to bubble to the surface. His mother seemed fully capable of making Riya feel small and insignificant given what she believed about her... but could he abandon her to these women, alone and vulnerable to their cruelty for the rest of her life? He wasn't sure; she could obviously stand up for herself and yet she refused to do so against the people she should have been pointing the finger at. He wasn't sure of damn well anything anymore... the only thing he was sure of was Riya. HisRiya. The girl with the dazzling, effervescent smile that could rival the light of the sun... the mischievous glint in her eyes as she teased him, her contagious sense of humour making him smile from ear to ear... the untapped passion in her heart and her body as she craved him. His touch, hiskisses... him. The only thing he was truly sure about anymore was that he loved her, adored her and without her he would be the most broken and wretched man he knew in all his life. If he let her go, if he lost her... he would be lost forever. Of that he was sure.

He looked at Riya for what felt like an eternity, her deep and lonely pools of mahogany reaching out to him from the seemingly infinite chasm between then despite their only being feet apart. Unable to look at her anymore lest he give in and gather her in his arms, he turned back to his mother and looked absent-mindedly at his watch "Ma... I don't want to fight with you. I just think Preeti and Nimmi need to take responsibility for their actions... one day Riya wont be around for them to blame for their every mistake" he shook his head at his mother's deeper scowl even as dadi made a strangled noise of despair from somewhere behind him. He ignored her. "I have to go out; I've got some work to do so don't expect me until later in the day... don't wait up for me if I'm late for dinner..." and without turning back he picked up his heavy backpack full of hardback books and made his way out the front door to head to his class; if he was two hours early then so be it, it beat listening to his family throw verbal rocks at the woman his heart beat for.

*

The pain in her chest wouldn't stop. Why wouldn't it just stop? She gave up on wiping away her tears, now alone in the kitchen as the inky light of the night sky seeped into the open shutters along with the occasional mosquitos and bugs. Since he had left several hours ago she had closed herself away from the rest of the family, repeating and reliving the detachment in his words as he had exclaimed to his whole family that he didn't love her, that she wouldn't be their problem soon enough. Why did you have to kiss me? She wiped the tears from her cheek before it fell into the small pot of vibrant green spinach, her heart feeling like it had sprouted claws and was grappling its way out of her body and away from her, just as he had tried to run away from her. He was the one who held her life in the palm of his hands, was it any wonder that the barely beating organ in her chest wanted to get away from her and be with him too? She didn't know what true loneliness had meant until today... yes she had her best friend and her father... but the one person who completed her, who made her heart beam and her throat ache had shunned her and rejected her yet again for all to hear. Even as he had stood inbetween herself and Amit, she had felt safe and protected simply being in his presence, like he was her knight and guardian angel and yet she was sure it was unintentional for why would he care if Amit looked at her anymore? She could never forget the way he had been fair in his explanation of Nimmi and Preeti, absolving her of total blame in the whole sordid affair... but even as he had given with one hand, he had ripped her heart out yet again with the other. Why did you kiss me! She let out a barely strangled sob, her throat aching with the repressed agony of it as she swallowed back her tears. Her eyes were sore and she shuddered to think what she looked like having quietly cried her fill as she moved about the kitchen and took her time. She hated him and loved him and missed him all at the same time; her hands ached to beat at his hard chest until she fell to her knees just as they ached to wrap around his shoulders, bury her face into his neck and never ever let go. If only he hadn't kissed her... if only he hadn't moaned into her mouth and barely whispered her name as he sunk his tongue inbetween her lips... if only he hadn't touched her like he had needed her to breathe... she would have left him be in peace. She would have found what little energy she had left to extricate herself from his life and his world. But no... her brain was screaming at her to just go while her heart was firmly anchored to him and the root of who he was. Of the man she was unendingly in love with.

Amit had interrupted her painful reverie a half hour ago having now left; buaji's voice had matriculated through the slightly open door asking him to boil some milk for her and stressing that the phate sari in the kitchen was not to go anywhere near it as she laughed at her own joke. Her whole body had tensed at his presence, wishing every moment that crawled by would instead hurry up and leave her alone again instead of his constant glances her way even if he would not speak to her. She was thankful at least for small blessings. She had barely paid him any attention, throwing all her focus on what she was cooking in order to avoid any communication with him and so when she looked at the covered pan sitting precariously on the edge of the counter she didn't think twice before picking it up. "AH! Aahh!" she actually sobbed out in pain as she hissed the stuffy air in through her contracted windpipe, her fingers burning and flinching so severely that she knocked half the pan's contents onto her sari. Her voice pitched and she cried out harder as the initial sharp and acute pain wracked through her, the sudden shock of pain singeing her nerve endings and squeezing her windpipe closed for a moment before it morphed into something far worse. The acute pain twisting over her every nerve endings soon turned into an uncompromising fire licking over her delicate skin, as though someone had dropped hot embers over her and left her there to endure it. She couldn't stop the unbidden sobs of pain leaving her throat and lungs as she ran to the sink and splashed cold water on her chest where the frothy liquid had spilt over her. The recently boiled milk seeped through the thin layers of nylon sari, her skin already burning and feeling like it was searing from the scorching liquid that now plastered the material to her like melted plastic. She cried out again, tears of physical pain now rolling down her cheeks as she pulled at the swathe wrapped around her waist and chest and held it away from her. She couldn't undress here no matter how much it hurt... and God it hurt so much. Riya blustered out of the kitchen, clutching the bunched up sari to her chest as her blouse now chafed against her painful skin; seeing no one in the lounging area she lifted up her sari and ran to the upstairs washroom desperate to strip herself of her soaked clothes and to see the damage the milk had caused. She pushed herself against the door before pushing down the handle in her hurry and when it didn't give she cursed. Damn it! Come ON! She pushed again when the voice inside made her freeze her movements even as she grit her teeth with the pain. "Aray! I am in here... what is the hurry, huh? I wont be long..." she couldn't mistake Papajis drowsy and almost permanently soporific voice emanate through the locked door. Riya didn't bother to reply back, too embarrassed at interrupting whatever he had been doing and in much too much pain to hang back any longer. She had no other choice left as looked longingly at the room at the far end of the landing. He won't be back until later... it's not even dinner time yet. I can be in and out in ten minutes and no one will know.

*

He placed the tips of his fingers against his temples, massaging the small muscles in circles with his elbows propped on the plastic desk as the bright light of the room felt like spikes in his brain. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, the letters on the page now swimming as he gave up on his concentration after hours of study. "Shivam... you should probably go home, son. Everyone else has left and there really is no need for you to be here; I'm sure you can continue reading at home. I have no more teaching material for today" he looked up at the man who had been teaching his evening classes for the past month and a half before offering a small smile. "Maybe you're right Mr. Uttam... but to be honest I don't want to go home right now. There's always some drama happening..." he trailed off, not wanting to give too much away to a stranger even if he had come to respect the man. The man smiled, his thin glasses glinting in the light as he perched on the edge of an empty desk, "Well... then stop studying for today. I've been very impressed with your consistency Shivam. You're more than ready to sit the exam but that's something you have to know in yourself. You're going to make an excellent Gym Instructor if your grades and practical assessments are anything to go by. You have grasped the Anatomy and Physiology module better than I expected considering you didn't take Biology. You already have excellent interpersonal skills from your day job as a sales rep and you seem to have a knack for planning and evaluating your own gym programme. Its evident to me that you work hard to keep your body in peak physical condition; as a teacher it shows me that you understand nutrition, personal exercise techniques as well as an understanding of the cardiovascular and energy systems and how you use it to work with the body instead of against it. You know your stuff Shivam, trust yourself and just go for it" Mr. Uttam shook his head gently at him, "There's only so much studying you can do for this kind of thing. Once you master the theory and complete the practical assessments there is nothing left but to just improve your skills whilst on the job. But for you to do that, you need to pass the exam" he chuckled softly even as Shivam smiled back at him, knowing in the recesses of his mind that he had been right. He simply hadn't wanted to screw things up, thereby missing his chance and waiting months to re-take the exam; he was counting on making a good impression on the Action Corp client that Gupta had placed him in charge of securing. If he passes the exam with excellent grades then hopefully Gupta could put in a good word with them on his behalf. "Now listen... you go home and I will see you at the same time next week. Seriously consider making it your last session with me, yes? And Shivam, get some sleep... you're looking more tired each time I see you, it's not good for your body. Go... and please, do call me Manoj; Mr. Uttam sounds much too formal for this time of the evening" Shivam was grateful that he was having a normal conversation with a normal person for once in the last twenty-four hours. The one person who made him feel like he was truly homewas Riya; no matter where he was he felt like he had come home as long as she was with him, laughing and joking and teasing him as they settled in one another's arms. But that had been a luxury he had forsaken and now he was left with the scraps of kind and gentle conversations with strangers and people who didn't know him. He missed her... as though someone had rammed a shovel into his heart, scooped it out and poured it into her. He brushed his fingers through his hair as his professor retreated out of the room, knowing the incessant banging against his skull wouldn't abate any time soon. I miss you. All the f**king time. He bit the inside of his lip hard enough that he felt the sting of reality force itself into his consciousness; it didn't matter how much he missed her or how good she could make him feel with just one smile or her caress against his skin. He had tossed her aside like yesterday's rubbish infront of his entire family, easily flinging out the words of her impending departure, of how little she meant to him and feeling like he was ripping a chunk out of his heart each time he had. And now he had no option to go back; they probably hadn't even eaten their dinner yet which meant he would see her beautiful face in her usual corner as his family set the table. He didn't want to look at her; he would only see his own recent and freshly cut cruelty reflected back in her eyes at him and he couldn't bare it. Not when he missed her so f**king much,not when his own mother had verbally destroyed her so vehemently. His stomach rumbled painfully even if he didn't seem to have had an appetite since this whole nightmare started; either way Manoj was right, if he wanted to move forward in his career choice then he would have to take care of his body. It was an essential part of promoting his ability to do the best job he could; being a fitness trainer in the hopes of eventually reaching a managerial position and opening his own gym had been a dream of his since he had left college. He couldn't afford to let his body deteriorate if he wanted to show prospective employers that he was serious about his career and studies and so he settled on going home and simply whipping up several eggs in a shake as a quick protein-rich meal. Withouther to sit and eat with, food had become tasteless, pointless even and so Shivam had succumbed to drinking his food in the form of protein shakes and quick omelettes at the end of a long day much to his mother's displeasure. Of course she had blamed Riya for his cutting out heavy carbohydrates and grease, not realising that she was the only one who had noticed the change in his diet. Not realising that she had always made sure to cook extra lean meat and fish for him as she surreptitiously left it amongst his mother's cooking at the end of the night. Riya might not have realised how much he knew her, but he did know his wife; he knew her cooking, the taste of her food, laced with love and tenderness in each bite he took. He had never been able to refuse her food, even if she hadn't made it obvious and even if they never spoke about it... she left it out for him and he ate it, relishing each morsel as he tasted the love with which she made it. Just thinking about it made his heart twist painfully.

Hey guys! Ok, well woompf! This next installment is huuuge. I mean its really big, so big I dont even know how many parts there will be to it just yet, but I'll amend this once Ive posted everything. So this is Part Four- C and you should definitely read the previous parts to have any idea what's going on if you want it to make sense 😊 Prior to this is Part One, Two, Three A and B, and Four A and B.

I will put my WARNING here and say once again to whomever is reading; this piece of fiction (Part Four in its entirety) contains very very adult language including sexually explicit words and situations as well as profanity in keeping within the context of this work. Please do NOT read from here on if you do not want to read this kind of material, it is for adults only and for those who don't mind adult content.
I as usual have no clue of this will get me temporarily banned, but if it does, please just PM me and I will email you the FF directly 😉
Enjoy and of course as always, feedback is always welcome 😊


PART FOUR - C - Please read Part Four - B - before continuing on

Almost an hour later he found himself turning off the engine of his motorbike under the outside lamp, the bright bulb flooding a small pool of light outside of Shanti Sadan as he heard the quiet clatter of plates and voices emanating out of the house. They had already been sat at the table as Riya was no doubt tucked away in her corner waiting for the rest of them to finish, like she was some kind of animal who got to eat last. It revolted him. Even on the occasions he had been forced to sit with the rest of his family, he hadn't been able to eat, simply playing with his food as he pushed it about his plate before excusing himself. He was certain his mother noticed but she had never given in and called Riya to the table; it would have been preposterous to even expect such a thing even if his mother had wanted Riya at the table, afterall dadi was the only soul who was everyone's personal puppeteer. And so tonight of all nights he kept his eyes cast down, not daring to look at Riya in her usual corner before he completely crumbled and told his entire family to go f**k themselves before seating her pretty behind on his motorcycle and riding far far away. "Shivam...beta come and sit. Dinner is ready..." he looked at his mother's concerned face as though every trace of their earlier altercation had vanished and possibly hadn't existed to begin with; as if she had hadn't ripped Riya apart right infront of him only hours ago. His entire being itched to turn around and seek her eyes out and so to distract himself he shrugged the form fitting jacket off of his shoulders, the chestnut brown leather now too warm in the claustrophobic environment as he felt everyone's eyes on him. Even as he did so he noticed Chanda walking out of the kitchen from the corner of his eye, her own eyes moving down his body making him feel uncomfortable at her fleeting if obvious attention to him. If he had noticed, he was sure Riya had too and so he decided to make himself scarce before dadi forced him to sit next to the woman yet again. His muscled arms felt suddenly bare in the chilly air that blew in through the front door and he tugged at his fitted dark red t-shirt distractedly. He couldn't even be bothered to see who and who wasn't sat at the table, sure that his dad was absent for the fifth time this week anyway. Shivam shook his head, simply wanting to be alone with his thoughts as his head continued to pound incessantly; he could make his protein shake later when the whole house had gone to sleep. "No Ma... I already picked up a snack on the way and I'm too tired to eat a full meal... I think I'll just turn in for the night" he heard her mumble her acquiescence before making his way back up the stairs and to his room. I need some painkillers before my damned head explodes... he thought to himself in exhaustion as he made his way to the adjoining washroom after locking his bedroom door behind him.

It all seemed to happen in slow motion; his opening the door, her letting out a mortified scream, himholding his breath as if taking another would have destroyed what surely was his every waking andsubconscious fantasy come true in all its glory before him. He stood immobilised, every plane of hard and chiselled muscle from the corded strength of his neck to the rippling six pack over his abdomen, all the way down to his toes and every muscle in between honed and magnetised to the woman stood before him. Not just his wife... his naked wife, his almost naked wife. "Shivam!! Sh-shivam turn around!..." he stood dumbly, his lips slightly parted as her words failed to register. His hungry eyes couldn't stop roaming over every inch of her exposed flesh, her perfectly satin smooth caramel skin going on for miles as she cowered from him in nothing but the prettiest underwear he could have imagined her in. His heart thudded, his blood sloshed in some haphazard rhythm through his veins as he drank every inch of her in... his entire body already preparing itself to slam into her and devour her whole even if his brain felt like it had shut down. "Shivam! Will you TURN around! Now!" her shaky and high pitched voice snapped him out of whatever immobilised daze she had sent him to, his body automatically following her orders as he twisted at his waist and turned his face away. Holy f**k. Holy... f**k. He breathed tremulously, closing his eyes as the memory of herutterly incredible body made his mouth water and damned cock come roaring to life like it was the f**king fourth of July in America and there were damned fireworks below his belt. It was then as he breathed in the memory of her body that he faltered, a frown marring over his otherwise handsome features. Wait a minute... was she... was she hurt? Without even thinking about it or giving a f**k for propriety he whirled back around, already stalking towards her and bridging the short distance between them. He looked at her face more closely this time, noting the pain etched over her mortified face as she trembled infront of him just shy of a foot shorter than him. She held her bunched up sari to her heaving chest, the garish and violent pink splash peeking over the skin of her shoulder that he had been sure was spread further down. "Shivam..." she almost sobbed at what he knew was a severe look on his face; he couldn't help the strain on his face as he was battered with arousal and concern that something wasn't right here. "Please... please don't look at me... I... please will you just go?!" She pleaded with him, one tear rolling down her cheek as she looked up at him; her incredibly beautiful eyes like orbs and the gentle flush of her embarrassment spreading from her cheeks and down her neck until his eyes found the too pink skin by her shoulder. He wasn't f**king turning around let alone leaving her. His heart thudded in his chest almost afraid to find out what lay beneath the crumpled sari against her upper body, her gorgeous thighs peeking out of the material even as she clenched them together infront of him. He swallowed, hard. "Riya... tell me what's wrong... what happened to your shoulder?" he asked her calmly even though his voice had turned to gravel and shale as he forcefully fixed his eyes over her own, afraid of where they would wander without disciplining himself. She's hurt... focus asshole and find out what happened.He mentally flogged himself out of his arousal, now too concerned at the pain over her face, not to mention her pink rimmed eyes as though she had been crying for days on end. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew it had been his doing yet again; her eyes hadn't looked like that when he had left earlier and between then and now she had hurt so badly that this was the result. He clenched his jaw as the tears started to well in his own eyes, grinding the muscles of his jaw hard enough that it hurt and fought the overwhelming hurt back to where it belonged in the pit of his heart. "Riya, answer me. What happened?" he stressed again, now quickly losing patience as she simply shook her head from side to side at him. "Please just go... I'll put my clothes back on and-" Shivam shook his head just once, his voice level and no nonsense once more as he took control of the situation. "No. I'm not going anywhere and Im not looking away. Let me see" he watched as her eyes widened, her mouth pouting in the most irresistible and adorable "o" in her obvious shock before she backed away one step, "No I wont... go away" Her voice was soft, pleading once again and yet he took a step of his own towards her as he noticed the slight panic in her eyes. He couldn't help his voice coming out deeper and lower all at the same time; he didn't have time to f**k around, if she had hurt herself he needed to take care of it whether she damn well liked it or not, "I said let me see. I wasn't asking you, Riya" Shivam changed his tactics for a moment allowing his features to soften for just a while, "Does it hurt badly?" He hadn't missed the way her shoulder had flinched at his words, only confirming all too well how much pain she was in. For f**k sake Riya... he silently railed at her and her stubbornness, he was her f**king husband; she didn't need to hide from him like he was some kind of ogre. She shook her head as another pretty tear dropped from her eyes, the pink stain around them only making his heart stutter in its need to hold her in his arms. He ground his next words as his patience continued to wane dangerously, "So why the hell are you crying? Either you're in pain or I'm frightening you. Am I frightening you?" he asked, a part of him terrified that she would admit to the latter; if she was scared of him he would leave her alone before she could even take her next breath. He would never frighten her on purpose; he would rather gouge out his own f**king eyes. When she simply looked at him in silence he knew her answer; she wasn't scared... she just didn't want him to see her like this... like a f**king sex goddess in her lacy panties and that f**king bra that he could have sworn he had been able to see through. What the holy f**k was that anyway? I didn't even know she wore stuff like that... He shook his head as his breath continued to tremble out, the perfectly cut muscles in his core already tumbling over themselves in his male need to touch her. To scent her and mark her as his. However, he was a man before a damned animal in heat; he needed to see to her injuries and treat the pain before he allowed himself to fully enjoy just looking at her, at his woman. "Baby... if you don't let me treat it your skin will blister and it will hurt a hundred times more than it is now" he noted the way she gently gasped at the intimate word he had used even if it had felt completely natural to him; she was his baby, his life. He might have been acting like a complete f**king bas***d but it was a damned act; he would rather kill himself than let her suffer in physical pain like this. She took another cautious step back, no doubt seeing his features harden even more at his own angry thoughts at himself, "Shivam... I'm fine... I-I don't need...you" her words had may as well have been a knife, slicing slowly through his jugular as her voice trailed off. It had been his own f**king fault for pushing her so far away that she didn't think she could approach him even for this. Shivam snapped, unable to play this game orwhatever the f**k it was with her for a moment longer. He took a larger step toward her as his entire body prickled with the increased proximity of her heat and scent, "Riya! I'm not f**king playing around! Let me see your skin. Now" her chest heaved as he gave up on waiting for her, her loose and long silky hair tousled and shifting around her bare shoulders as he closed the final steps to her trembling form as he looked directly down at her. He was so close he could feel her breath on his hypersensitive skin, his body only inches away from her's clad in nothing but a pair of panties and her bra. Never taking his eyes off of her own, he lifted his arm and wrapped his hand around the bunched up material in her hands. He swallowed the heat in his throat and shifted his eyes over hers, dropping to her mouth as she chewed hard on her lip out of nervousness. Shivam tugged on the material, her grip on it loosening for just a moment before she pulled back against her skin; the movement had caused her to whimper in pain as it grazed against her raw skin and it was then that his patience had completely run out. He firmly yanked the sari out of her small hands before hurling it irreverently to the other end of the washroom as her face blushed a deeper shade of pink; he moved closer to her, now doing his damned job as her husband and assessing the painfully pink skin over her shoulder and reaching to just above her right breast. He swallowed and grimaced at the same time at the burns he was seeing, his right hand instinctively raising to the left side of her face and cupping her jaw and cheek. His eyes were glued to her already blistering skin as he unknowingly caressed the softness of her cheek in his need to soothe her, to make her feel safe and protected. He hadn't even realised the tears in his eyes had pooled as he stared at how badly she was hurt. Why the f**k wasn't anyone here helping her! Where the f**king hell had his mother been when this happened?! She'd been alone... He closed his eyes for a moment as he gathered himself back together, looking back into the softness of her own eyes as her tears fell like drops of light onto her skin and over his own palm. He shouldn't be getting close to her... he shouldn't mess with her emotions again. Just take care of her... I need to take care of her, that's all... he silently accepted it as fact knowing wild horses couldn't stop him at this point in time. As long as she was in pain his dick had deflated, his heart needing desperately to look after her before allowing himself any other luxury. "Just wait here... alright? I'm going to get the burn ointment and some pain killers... it's in the other draw in the bedroom" he looked back and forth in her eyes for a moment before retreating into the other room, rummaging around for what he needed as fast as was humanly possibly and before she made a run for it. Even if she did he would have happily swung her over his shoulder, bare ass naked if need be and dragged her back into their room. When he walked back in he locked the door behind him noting the look of surprise on her face, "In case someone walks in... don't worry, I'm not going to tear the rest of your clothes off" he swallowed, "at least not when you're in pain" he hadn't been able to not speak the erotic insinuation, loving the way she squirmed at his meaning even if she was too shy to shout at him or scold him. He missed the way she used to punch him in the arm; his teasing and suggestive words bringing a gorgeous blush to her cheeks before she gave him a solid whack over his bicep, the feeling only serving to harden his cock and make him want to pin her beneath his body. He had been craving and yearning to be close to her since the balcony incident, but not in his wildest imaginings would he have predicted this. Even if she was hurt, he wasn't f**king blind... he would treat her injuries and make sure the pain subsided but the sight of her like this would be his torture device in the coming hours and days. She trembled again, her arms rising up until she covered her beautiful breasts. Shivam lifted his own arms, the biceps under the edge of his t-shirt bunching in the movement; not taking his eyes off her own, he wrapped his hands gently around her wrists and slowly pulled them down. "You're beautiful... don'tever feel ashamed... especially infront of me..." he swallowed again after he whispered the words in the air between them, not trusting himself to not caress her skin and needing her to know that she was a goddess; even if he wouldn't allow himself to have her. Her eyes looked back at him before dropping again, her adorable shyness and embarrassment taking over as he thought of things he could be doing to her that would soon banish that timidness.
He bunched his eyebrows together for a moment as he looked at her, wishing with every particle of his being that he could wrap his arms around her waist and caress her soothingly, "This is going to hurt, sweetheart... but I need to put this cream on or your skin will blister... just squeeze my arm as hard as you need if its too much, ok?" his concern and worry overtook every other emotion in him, knowing that the moment his fingers touched her skin she would relive the burn as though it had just happened. His own hands trembled as he lifted the cream on his fingers to her raw skin; she hissed in the agony through her mouth as he continued to massage the emollient in as gently and softly as he could. "Sh-shivam... it hurts" she spoke through her tears as she softly sobbed out the pain, clamping her hand over his other arm and leaning further into him for support. He didn't stop, needing to get it over and done with for her sake more than anything, "I know baby... just a little more and then it's done, I promise" he couldn't help calling her that again. She was in agony and vulnerable and hurting from the inside out and he loved her for f**k sake. He couldn't bare to see her suffering like this as she trembled against him, needing him to look after her even if she had shunned him away and told him to leave her alone. Like f**king hell would I ever leave you alone in this state... he thought vehemently, his fingers barely touching the skin over the swell of her breasts as she dug her short nails into him, seeking whatever outlet she could for her pain. He hadn't imagined that this was how his first time touching her so intimately would have gone... and yet he was still thankful that it was he who was taking care of her... that he had found her when he did or she would have suffered alone and silently. Just the thought of it angered him and his renewed hatred for himself flooded his face in harshness knowing that if he had never found her she would have never asked for his help. She must have noticed because she pulled back, thinking he was angry at her. "I-its ok Shivam... you can stop... I'll go" still she held her other arm over her breasts, unable to relax infront of him and was it truly any wonder after the way he had played with her emotions like it had been a game of football and her heart had been the ball? Shivam only shook his head at her, his scowl still present and his voice harsher and more gravelly as his possessiveness took over, "I'm not angry at you, Riya..." he didn't give her any further explanation, his words insinuating that he was angry at someone else entirely as he continued to cover her skin in another layer of the soothing cream. When he finally covered every inch of her burns, he washed his hands and held out the two white tablets he had brought with him and a glass of water to her. "Take these pain killers... they're pretty strong and they'll numb the pain through the night and then you can take them again in the morning" however; when she shook her head he felt his anger start to bubble again, "I don't need them... I'll be fine Shivam" she looked up at him with her large brown eyes already melting his heart even if he wasn't going to let her walk out without taking them. "Riya take the damned tablets, alright? That pain you're feeling is going to get worse and unless you want me to call the doctor to get you to take those same pain killers then I suggest you shut your pretty mouth for once and just swallow the tablets" he could feel his own exhaustion pinch the back of his eyes as his patience and politeness wavered; if she wouldn't listen to him then he would have to scold her like a wayward child. If it got her to look after herself then he had been left with little other choice.

After she scowled back to him at his grouchy and moody words and having swallowed both tablets with half a glass of water, he backed away from her warmth as his body immediately craved her closeness to him. Without even a hint of a smile he kept his features level and spoke succinctly, his feet still backing away from her as he walked backwards, "Now I'll go..." He inwardly smiled, his face still serious as she picked up the sari he had thrown to the side, his eyes gravitating to her movements as she bent forward still trying to conceal herself from him with the now tatty cloth.She's so f**king beautiful... he shivered inwardly and waited for her to call him back, knowing she would call him back. "But Shivam... I don't have any clothes, this... this sari is soaking wet and covered in milk..." he let her trail off as he raised an eyebrow at her sardonically, shrugging his shoulders once and levelling his gaze as he continued to back away from her even as she took a step toward him. "You told me to leave you alone... several times... so now I'm leave you alonesweetheart" he stressed the last word, his body already humming in his need to stalk straight back to her, to wrap his arms from behind her waist and weld his lips to hers as he pressed the length of his body into her back, his hands bringing her head around to his until he had her exactly where he wanted her. It would be the only way he could press himself into her and kiss her and not hurt her chest. Instead Shivam narrowed his eyes at her, just enough to show her that he was serious before he fully turned around forcing himself further away from her. When he heard her next words he froze solid, "Please... please don't leave me like this baby!" she had almost sobbed the last word out in her desperation; she had never called him that and yet when he slowly turned to look back her she had already clamped her hand over her mouth, the embarrassment of what she had said out loud much too late to be held back by those pretty hands of hers. Shivam slowly walked back into the washroom, merely staring at her and clenching the hard muscles in his jaw as he did so, his lower abdominals contracting painfully out of pure male need. He was this f**king close to tearing that damned sari to shreds, carrying her to their bed and slipping in with her until she was laying on top of him. It was the only way he would get any damned peace after the endless tortuous months of having given her up, as if he had been some kind of f**king saint or monk relinquishing the only pleasure life had given him; her. She had no f**king clue how close he was to losing it and turning into some damned caveman to feast on her and now of all things she had called him that? It undidhim. Unable to speak for fear of just how deep his voice would sound as his throat contracted in on itself, he simply stared at her still shocked face and walked back out, across the bedroom and out of the door into the landing.

*

What do I do now god? I'm naked and in his washroom and...and I called him... that. She closed her eyes, the fine tremor flowing up and down her body only reminding her of the effect he had had on her. When she had seen him suddenly walk in on her, the shock had been worse than the stupid milk burning her... as if the supercharged heat in his eyes had branded her permanently. She was humiliated... mortified that he found her so close to being naked, in disarray with her hair all about her shoulders, sticking out at odd angles and clutching at a filthy sari that she herself had wanted to rip to shreds and burn on a bonfire. She felt stupid, ugly... and a complete mess compared to how amazing he had looked. Even now as she remembered him from just moments ago her belly ached at the mere sight of him. The deep red t-shirt hugged him like a second skin, highlighting each perfectly contoured muscle in his chest and arms... his black jeans hanging low and suggestively over his lean hips as he had stalked up to her like some kind of predator in the wild. The fearsome and dark look in his chocolate brown eyes had done things enough to melt her insides, let alone the way his beautifully sculpted body moved in her direction. Even with the small gap between them she could feel the waves of heat rolling off his body; his metabolism had surely been through the roof if the miles of muscles over his body was anything to go by. He had changed himself slowly and gradually over the months, honing and defining each muscle group until just the sight of his broad shoulders and the hint of his cut abs underneath his t-shirts were enough to send her mind to the gutter. Except this time her body had been completely confused, unsure if she wanted to cry from the painful burning over her chest or if she had wanted to rub herself all over him like a puppy,his puppy. Not to mention that she had also wanted to run as far as she could and away from him; she had felt exposed, stupid and embarrassed as his eyes freely moved over her as though he had already laid claim to her even though he had shunned her only hours ago. The pain-killers had already started to take effect and she was grateful that he had forced her to take them even if she had wanted to smack him over the head for being so brutish about it. Her head was starting to feel light and floaty and for the first time in what felt like an eternity she felt like her cares were starting to melt away, sliding off her shoulders and her chest like layers of old and rusty armour. She looked around the washroom not sure how she was going to make her way downstairs now that he had abandoned her to fend for herself when her eyes fell on his t-shirt hanging behind the door. It will have to do... maybe I can wear a pair of his jeans and make my way downstairs... she mused in her haze as her mind started to fog up somewhat, no doubt the tablets had surely been stronger than she had expected. Riya slipped the t-shirt on and over her head, inhaling deeply as his scent filled her from her head and down to her curling toes as she revelled in the masculine spice and something fresh that made her throat ache for his lips just there. She tried to shake her head free of the encroaching cobwebs as whatever was in the tablets had made her head spin for a moment; she really needed to get out of here before she passed out on his floor. He didn't want her here... he didn't want her anywhere near him anymore... it would be best if she just left him alone... afterall he had simply left without saying a word, probably expecting her to be gone by the time he returned. She wasn't even sure why she was here anymore as the unbidden tears came back to curse her with their presence. To her horror she almost giggled even as her heart hurt not understanding why or caring anymore, knowing only that the man she would give her life for couldn't wait to get rid of her whilst she stood preposterously naked in his washroom... even if he had shouted at his mother she was under no illusions that he had done it to stand up for her. He had only taken care of her out of basic humanity... he didn't love her. She had been fooling herself. Her tears continued to fall, her chest ached and she wondered why she was hurting again so soon after taking the tablets. Weren't such things meant to numb the senses, send you to sweet oblivion and far away from the painful reality of one's life? So why was her heart still aching every time she thought of him? Why were the stupid tears still coming out of her eyes as though they had a direct connection to her battered heart? Would she never be free of it? Riya leaned her back to the wall for what felt like an hour but could have only been minutes, her feet already unsteady and her thighs and calves completely bare as she had somewhere along the line stopped caring about her state of undress. At least her breasts weren't hanging out like before... the way he had looked at her, the memory of his eyes darkening so dangerously and his throat working as he swallowed back whatever emotion he had felt upon looking at her was still making her lower belly ache. The tears might have been falling down her face, but it didn't mean she didn't want her husband. It didn't mean it was just her heart that was crying out for him; her body was craving his touch like a balm to her soul. Was it any wonder that she hadn't been able to ignore the wetness between her legs as she had clamped her thighs shut, sure that her movements had told him exactly how aroused she had been at his attention to her. It had been his eyes that had undid her even though the movement of his fingers had hurt over her raw skin. When the pain had started to subside and the medication had worked its way into her bloodstream she hadn't been able to ignore the feel of his heat as he stood close to her, the sound of his even breathing or the way his chest rose and fell at the sight of her. Did he want her the way she wanted him? Was she just imagining what she wanted to believe? Or had she seen desire in his eyes again... the way he had desired her on the balcony and as she had sat on the edge of his bed, his body leaning into her? Had he cast her aside for good or... did he still want her, the way only a man could want a woman, needing to sink into her and lose himself in her? Shewanted him... she didn't care anymore if it made her seem wanton; he was her husband, was it such a crime that she desired him? That his dark eyes melted her insides every time he stared at her likethat? Was it really so wrong when it felt so good? Riya squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, swallowing back the ache in her throat for the man she loved and she hoped... once more and yet again... that she was wrong. That he loved her... somewhere deep down where he didn't even know he did, that maybe he felt for her what she felt for him.

*

He cursed silently under his breath after nearly tripping over the step he had completely forgotten about, having obviously left his brain behind with her in the washroom behind him. Even as he regained his balance he heard the soft feminine cry ahead of him, the sound stilling his movements until he heard it again and moved in its direction. Shivam found her on the floor, her billowing nightwear low and around her ankles as she leaned forward and cried out in pain again before looking up at him. "Chanda? What happened?" Even in the dark he could see the deep frown over her forehead as she shook her head from side to side, "Forgive me... I didn't mean to wake you. I-I...ah!...I came to use the washroom and I tripped on my way out. My ankle... I think I just twisted it..." He frowned for a moment, almost sighing out his own frustration knowing that Riya was still in the washroom and probably getting cold. He didn't have a choice; he would need to help Chanda downstairs and back into dadi's room so she could rest her leg. He couldn't exactly leave her there all night and no matter how much he suspected the girl, he wasn't some kind of degenerate who would refuse to assist a woman in need of help. "Come with me... I'll help you get back to your room. Can you stand up?" even as he hoped she would be able to move herself she quietly cried out in pain again before giving up her efforts to lift her legs up. That's just great... now I have to carry her downstairs... he grumbled to himself, grateful at least that Riya wasn't here to witness this and take it completely the wrong way. "Alright... it looks like I'll have to carry you downstairs. Do I have your permission? It shouldn't take long..." he waited politely for her answer as she nodded her head after a moment; Shivam bent down and lifted her up easily as he focussed on holding her as far away from his body as he could and not brushing his hands against her nightgown. The entire thing felt f**king awkward and yet he moved onwards before descending the stairs and down into the deeper blackness of the lower landing. He couldn't help but notice her tenseness in his arms, no doubt she could feel him through the thin material of her own clothes and the thought almost urged him to put her back down again only wanting to put the distance between them. As he continued through the lounging room and past dadi's swing he was sure he heard some movement above him, however, he swiftly ignored it as he carried on through the archway and found himself stood just a meter or two from dadi's bedroom door. "I'm going to put you down... can you try and put weight on it?" he spoke softly lest his voice carry, hoping that she would be able to at least traverse the short distance into the bedroom as she used the wall to help keep her balance. When she nodded he let her down gently allowing her to regain her balance before her hand shot out and reached for his forearm in the dark, "I-Im sorry... I'll be alright. I can just lean on the wall until I get to my bed. Thank you... Shivam" He simply nodded at her, watching her hobble softly in the dark as she made her way back towards her bed in dadi's room and surprised that she was able to put some amount of pressure on her sprained ankle in the short time since he brought her downstairs. He frowned and shook his head not sure what it meant and not really dwelling on it at this time of the night,especially being so close to dadi's room. God, it gave him the creeps in all honesty; someone couldn't pay him to sleep alone in her room at night. Right... now I need to get that wife of mine some clothes before she falls asleep naked in that washroom... He turned away, his lips upturned for a moment at how much he had adored her shyness infront of him before his thoughts turned less innocent yet again. That image of her wasn't going to disappear any time soon, of that he was sure.

*

Riya felt the cold icicle of jealousy spear her from the crown of her head and straight into her heart and nauseous belly. She hadn't been able to stay in the washroom in just a t-shirt when her head had spun for a moment and she had decided to find one of his jeans from his draw, even if the garment would have hung loosely around her. It was a hell of alot better than just walking around in her panties. As she had rummaged around in the dark, the tiny lamp in the corner barely giving her any light she hadn't missed the soft mumbling sounds of voices out on the landing. She had ducked to the floor so quickly that she had momentarily lost her bearings before realising that no lights had been turned on. Her curiosity peaked, she walked slowly towards the bedroom door slightly ajar when she heard the unmistakable sound of his voice low and soft in the dark. As she had watched the scene before her unfold, the nausea in her entire body had multiplied and now as she watched him carry another woman in his arms and down the stairs just as he had carried her up only less than a week ago she felt stupid. Foolish. Somewhere, at some point she had thought it had meantsomething, that he had wanted her again even if he hadn't known it. Her blood felt like it was being forced through her veins like sludge and the fresh sting in her eyes turned to tears before she viciously swiped them away, her heart breaking for the hundred thousandth time since knowing this man. The betrayal swept through her like she was a magnet in a room full of needles, each sharp point piercing her entire body until she felt sick. She couldn't stand it... the way he had lifted her up into his arms, holding her close to him... for how else could you be held in anyone's arms? Chanda's body had sunk into his and the jealousy and bitter anger was clawing at her right now as she stood motionless in the doorway for anyone to find her. She wouldn't cry, not the hell again! She swallowed the pain back, feeling like packing her damned bags and just leaving them to it. How many times? How many times was she going to put herself through this? What the hell is wrong with me? So WHAT if I love him?! So WHAT?! Every time he had kissed her, touched her... lookedat her like that, she had let her guard down bit by bit... trusting that maybe, just maybe he truly needed her. That he knew she was his. But no... no he was moping about in the dark carrying thatwoman about like a knight in bloody shining armour... the same woman that dadi and this whole insane family wanted him married to. Her head felt so light that she leaned against the doorframe for a moment before letting go; she didn't care how dizzy she felt. She was getting the hell out of his room; she didn't need him to look after her. She was stupid, desperate... so damned lonely and missing him like he was her heart, because he was her heart and here he was carrying Chanda in his arms like his damned lover? No. I'm going back down and he can go to hell. Five months, God. Five months and then I WILL go! She screamed inwardly as the tears started to fall again, swiping at them hatefully and now hating the familiar wetness on her face these days. She wouldn't giveanyone the satisfaction of accusing her of giving up and not doing everything she could to fix her marriage... but no, she knew now that she couldn't fix it. Not after that display of his. No, she would damn well make herself stay here for another five months and show them that she wasn't the kind of person to just give up on her marriage without giving it her best shot and then she would leave even if they begged her to stay. No, she would never return after practically begging for their acceptance; even if it killed her she would leave and she could just shrivel up and die in a hole somewhere without him while he lived the life of his dreams with Chanda. She hated herself; shehated her weakness for him, that she felt so incomplete without him that she had become so small in her own eyes. If he touches me again I'll scratch his eyes out! She felt like she was coming unhinged, both hating and loving the way he had kissed her and touched her because it gave him complete and total control over her heart, her body... her spirit. She melted into a puddle of goo and uselessness when he looked at her like that. Well, no more. No more Shivam! You cant just put your hands on me and...and...and kiss me and think I will put up with anything! You can have her!She trembled in the dark, her only protection against the cold was his t-shirt as she kept wiping at the tears over her cheeks; no sooner would she dry her face with the back of her hand before another sad and angry tear would replace the last one. Without looking back into his room, she stepped out of the doorway in just his shirt and her bare legs and made her way back down to her pathetic old mat. She was sure he wouldn't even notice that she had disappeared anyway, not when he was with Miss Perfect downstairs probably massaging some ointment on her ankle. Whatever...who cares? She shrugged it off in her mind, in truth feeling anything but aloof. She was hurt, againand again and again and again. You can have her Shivam. She let the unspoken ball of pain and anger settle like crumbling rocks in her chest before she took one step down the staircase after the other.

Hey guys! Ok, well woompf! This next installment is huuuge. I mean its really big, so big I dont even know how many parts there will be to it just yet, but I'll amend this once Ive posted everything. So this is Part Four- D and you should definitely read the previous parts to have any idea what's going on if you want it to make sense 😊 Prior to this is Part One, Two, Three A and B, and Four A, B and C.

I will put my WARNING here and say once again to whomever is reading; this piece of fiction (Part Four in its entirety) contains very very adult language including sexually explicit words and situations as well as profanity in keeping within the context of this work. Please do NOT read from here on if you do not want to read this kind of material, it is for adults only and for those who don't mind adult content.
I as usual have no clue of this will get me temporarily banned, but if it does, please just PM me and I will email you the FF directly 😉
Enjoy and of course as always, feedback is always welcome 😊


PART FOUR - D - Please read Part Four C before continuing on

As he made his way towards the kitchen and the storeroom where he knew he would find some old clothes in Riya's size, he heard the short but high pitched loud yelp coming from the opposite direction. Shivam stood statue still, his mind active again. Now what? Chanda better not have fallen again, I don't have time for this... he grit his teeth in annoyance before going back in the direction he had just come from; maybe Chanda really had fallen and hurt herself even worse afterall. However, he stopped in his tracks again when he heard the muffled movement further and in the opposite direction to where he had left Chanda. Forgetting his hunt for the spare clothes for Riya almost immediately, he changed directions in the dark and moved towards the strange noises coming from where he was sure Riya's mat was situated. Shivam frowned for a moment, careful not to bump into anything in the dark when he saw her, the muted light of the moon just catching her movements in the dark as she flashed past him only a few feet away. He ground his jaw shut at the sight of her, What the f**k is she doing walking around like that?! Even in this light he could see her legs were bare, even if she seemed to be wearing something on top. Without waiting around another second he reached out to her before she moved further away, his body instantly coming alive again the moment his hand made contact with her arm as it shot out to her. Shivam couldn't help the aggressive undertones in his movements, it always seemed like she brought that side out of him even if all he had ever seemed to want to do these days was spank some damned sense into her bare ass as she lay over his knee... her damned impetuousness was frustrating just as much as it was arousing. As quickly as it entered his head he banished the thought; the last f**king thing he needed was a hard-on as he skulked about in the dark! He yanked on her arm, hurling her into him before manoeuvring her back firmly against the wide wooden pillar by her mat; when she yelped out in surprise he immediately recognised it as the same sound that had caught his attention. "What the hell are you doing down here? I told you to go to bed!" he practically growled out the words as he hovered over her, their bodies a foot apart as he held her still. He was taken back by her scathing voice when she spat her response back in his face, her warm breath reaching up to his lips, "Why should I?!" His hands squeezed around her bare upper arms instinctively as she squirmed in his grip, already trying to get away from him. What the hell is wrong with her? he thought; when he had left her in the washroom she was not this angry; frustrated maybe but this was something else. He clenched his jaw before grinding out the words in his wavering patience now, "Riya, it's the middle of the night... you obviously can't handle your damned pain-killers and-" His eyes widened in the dark when she hissed out her interruption, "No!" again she squirmed, trying her level best to shrug out of his arms as tears sprung to her eyes seemingly out of nowhere. What the...? He was confused and getting increasingly angry with her and the usual knot was forming in his chest whenever he saw the wetness in her eyes. "Go and play doctor and patient with Chanda. You don't have to worry about me... just gettoff!" So... it seemed the little fire cracker in front of him had seen him afterall, followed him downstairs and come to her own ridiculous conclusions... maybe not so ridiculous considering what an asshole he had been to her in the last few months. His chest ached at her accusatory words, unable to even imagine feeling that way for Chanda. He couldn't give a damn about her; whatever he had done was out of basic human kindness and nothing more! Shivam felt the cord of his barely contained control snap in two before slamming his body into hers as their chests connected. He swallowed the shiver running through him the moment his lips brushed over hers, softly, barely a kiss as he kept his lips still and unmoving over hers and breathing her in to him. It wasn't a kiss, he didn't know what it was... just that his lips were over hers, unmoving and sensitive and tickling, the feeling daring him to just kiss her into his submission as he pressed his chest into her. He could feel every movement of her laboured breathing, cutting her off before she even had a chance to speak and hiss at him again like a helpless kitten; his voice was deep, even as he half-whispered over her lips, "What the hell is wrong with you?... I'm losing my damned patience Riya. When I said. Stay. In. The. Room. I didn't mean come down here. Do you forget the Hindi language when I speak to you or something?" His lips had grazed over hers the entire time, driving them both insane... he was sure him even more so as her loose hair tickled over his forearms whilst he held her steady. He clamped his jaw shut, his damned cock out of control yet again and straining through his jeans and no doubt very obviously present to his wife as he stayed his body against hers. Her voice rose minutely as she hurled her words back at him, the adorable scowl over her face making her look a thousand times more beautiful to him, "You can't boss me around anymore! You don't love me! You don't want me. Why am I here? Why do I even care ab-" even as she raged out her words he hadn't moved his lips from hers, her breath flowing into him whilst she shouted under her breath. When the dim light flicked on in the bedroom opposite them he couldn't help but swear out loud before pressing his body harder into her and making their footprint as small as possible lest they be seen; the pillar was only so big! "F**k!" Even as he uttered the profanity against her lips she gasped out, not used to hearing such language come out of his mouth; the look in her eye making him want to show her exactly what other kinds of things she hadn't known he was capable of. Their eyes locked and he ground out the words when the dim light still hadn't turned off, "Shut. Up. Riya" he slid one hand up her soft skin and wrapped it around her upper arm, absently noting the feel of a t-shirt around her small bicep. God... she's wearing my t-shirt... don't look... not now for godsakes... his jaw worked as the image of his wife garbed only in his t-shirt started to form harder knots of arousal in his lower abdominals. And he was still f**king angry with her for walking around like this in the dark. Well... at least he knew why she was so angry at him, thinking he had been messing around with Chanda in the middle of the night. Knowing that she could even think that way about him irritated him, his anger spiking dangerously again. Shivam bucked his hips into her, his manhood pushing into her as she flinched and bit her own lip at the contact; he used his eyes to communicate to her, the harsh glare telling her to stop her movement, silently ordering her not to dare whimper even as he wanted to roll his eyes back in his head at the pleasurable feel of her. He didn't shift his lips away from hers even a little, "Be quiet unless you want to get caught" he whispered to her even as she instinctively pressed herself further into him and he was sure he was going to damn well moan out at the sensation; no doubt she was light headed from the tablets and had leaned further into him for suppport. "Will you just get OFF? I don't care if I'm caught!" she railed at him quietly, her low but harsh voice belying what she had just said. She tried to wriggle free of his vice like grip, except he responded by clamping her shut between his arms and the hard wall of his body when she did something completely unexpected. He felt her push herself up, her incredible softness sliding up his body as she surely stood on the tips of her toes and of all the things he had never expected, she leaned forward, deepening the brush of her mouth against his before taking his lip in-between her own and...she bit him. "I said let me go!" she almost shouted at him with fire in her eyes when she pulled back from him in mere seconds. His cock had solidified to steel as he simply looked down at her in abject shock, his lips slightly parted and aching from where she had pinched him with her teeth. His mouth was still, never having left hers as he lowered his head with her own movement and completely unable to speak for a moment until his voice somehow dislodged free. "God... did you just-" Just as he was about to say what he was damned well sure had just actually happened and he hadn't imagined, they froze in each others' embrace when they both heard her voice. "Is anyone there? Eh? Who is there, I heard you!" If the clarity of her raspy and sleepy voice was anything to go by he was sure dadi could only be a few feet away. God... holy mother of god... his dadi was mere feet away, his wife pinned in his arms and half-naked in his t-shirt against a damned pillar, his manhood having lost complete f**king control as it hammered into her trembling belly and his entire being ready to wrap her legs around his waist and f**k her right here... the whole household could have woken at any moment and she thought that biting him had been a good f**king idea?! She had to be insane if she thought that had been a good idea! What did she think she was playing at? Did she think it would anger him and he would just let her run off into the night? Didn't she know anything about men for f**k sake?! Her little display to provoke his anger had provoked something else entirely, only serving to connect a line straight to his dick and now all he wanted to do was clamp his hungry mouth over hers and suck on her tongue until he made her moan and beg for more of him; the whole world and Dadi just around the corner be damned. Even with his obvious arousal bucking into her and out of his control she still spoke louder; she was insane and not to mention seething mad at him as he manoeuvred her to the other side of the pillar some more, not wanting either them to get caught. "You don't need to protect m-" Shivam grit his teeth as she spoke again; f**k, if she kept raising her voice like this she really would wake the whole damn house and so he cut her off immediately, his own voice strained and as low as he could keep it "I'm not! Will you shut your mouth!" His eyebrows rose in incredulity when she hissed at him, louder still, "No! I won't! I hate you!" she spat out the words even as her tears accompanied them. Shivam's face turned to stone, not believing a damned word she said as her beautiful tears continued to fall in her hidden agony and yet his voice came out hard and cold. "Is that right? Look... I don't care Riya, alright? Just-" fresh tears sprung to her eyes, their lips having never parted the whole time they were enmeshed together and he could taste the saltiness of her pain now, the deep brown of her irises impossibly sad and angry at him all at the same time. "I know you don't!" he felt her suck the air into her lungs, her mouth only able to take his breath into her, leaving her no room to turn her head. She gave up even trying and now she was sobbing as silently as she could, right then and there and into his mouth. He clenched his jaw hard enough to shatter bone, unable to stand the hurt wracking through her at his words yet again... they couldn't do this here. It was asking for trouble, didn't she understand that? "Riya, this is not the place t-" Just as he was about to try and calm her down, the medication having no doubt lowered her inhibitions in her upset state, they were interrupted by dadi's voice once again.

"Eh! Who was that? Show yourself! I'm warning you... I'll scream and the whole house will wake up and then you'll be sorry!" To Shivam's complete horror his eyes widened again as Riya made to shout back at him, "I don-" he didn't think or plan, acting only on pure instinct as he fully welded his lips to hers, effectively cutting off her voice as he finally shut her up. He felt her struggle against him, her further rage only spurring him on and making him swallow hard as his mouth worked over hers; he felt like the eye of a storm as he tilted his head into her own before hearing the tiniest and most erotic feminine whimper leave her lips and into his mouth. The sound of her curled through his chest and straight to his cock as he instinctively bucked further into her; his tongue couldn't help but part her tremulous and velvet soft lips, tasting her like sweet nectar after the drought he had suffered since the last time he had allowed himself to have her like this. He felt her body shiver almost uncontrollably against his and even as the kiss had started off as a preventative measure to shut her up, slowly turning innocent and soft... it had now become hungry, fervent even, and he thrust his tongue into her welcoming if angry mouth as another sweet whimper left her lips. Oh God... I could drown in you... He held back the moan desperately needing its release, his throat aching before he gave in to the need for more as his tongue glided over her now wet lips, his own saliva coating her as he laved at her. He returned her earlier favour, sinking his own teeth into her plump, soft flesh and he felt her tremble against the hard wall of him, the tension and coiled need ready to spring at her in any moment. He couldn't... wouldn't do more than kiss her here and so Shivam held back with godlike strength; he bit her harder needing to elicit her earlier response as she pleased him with yet another tiny whimper into his mouth, Dadi still standing only feet away. He was sure his heart was going to explode or stop or both with the fear of being caught blistering through him. F**k... Riya... I need to shut you up like this more often, he thought as the length of him held her firmly and still in his hard arms, his own thighs had pushed into and around her as his body knew exactly what it needed when her small fingers dug into his solid pectorals defining his chest. He loved it when her hands were on him, anywhere, any place.

Riya's mind went blank, drowning suddenly in the overwhelming feel of the man she had been wanting more than air itself and here he was, now shutting her up with his own mouth. She hadn't been able to keep from gasping in, taking in his breath as she automatically sucked the air into her lungs from her surprise. However, the shock of his entire body leaning into her own had given way to some kind of acceptance even as she wanted to slap him at the same time... either way it didn't matter, her body responded to him as though he had always been part of her. As though it knew him and her heart ached and soared at the feel of him finally consuming her in his embrace. No matter how much she wanted to hit him, she had needed this more and when the needy whimper of her own voice left her mouth she barely recognised the sound as her mind spun and fell into him for more and more. Please... Shivam... her thoughts silently begged him to give her what she needed from her husband, his need, his body and soul as his lips slid and sucked like a man starved at her own... both man and wife losing their minds hidden by a pillar just a few millimetres wider than their shoulders. She was terrified, excited... beyond aroused and ready to kick him for what she had seen him do only minutes ago. Ready to push him away from her body just as much as she felt her hands grasping and pulling him into her. Her throat ached every single time she breathed in his unique scent... like sensual sandalwood lulling her into his submission as the other fresh ocean-like notes made her want to taste him, lick him back and bite into him. She couldn't believe she had bit him even as she had done it, her rage had broiled through her until she lost her senses and before she knew what she was doing she was trying to hurt him, attack him somehow and lash out at him in her tear-filled state.

He was so damned sexy... even in the dark she could read his features, his stubbled jaw flexing and clenching as he battled with whatever emotion had overcome him, the black spikes of his hair falling over his unwavering eyes as the intensity roiled and rolled off him and over her like the darkest and blackest chocolate. Her breasts were aching, the unaccustomed sensation of her hard nipples pressing into him as though her body didn't understand the concept of modesty and constraint. Shame wasn't a word she understood right now, not when he was loving her in this way yet again. She wanted him to cup her aching breasts, to relieve her in the way only he could. Her every nerve ending pulsed with a primal, natural need to mate with him as her lower belly wouldn't stop trembling, shivering and aching to connect with him in the most visceral way. When she felt the deep, sonorous tumbling of his voice caress over her lips like an erotic whisper, her womb had contracted and she couldn't mistake the hot pulse between her thighs, her cleft now soaked and aching for something only he could soothe. She wanted him, the way only a woman could want a man to touch her and make her submit to him until he was everywhere on her, around her, in her. When he touched her, she felt alive and female and whole... she lost herself. Feeling his own arousal and hardness jut and buck into her belly had made her swallow back her desperation over and over again, not knowing whether she should push him away or push into him at the incredible feeling of his virility and need pulsing against her. It excited her that he felt confident enough to show her what she obviously did to him and yet the anger still bubbled on the edges of her peripheral thoughts as she couldn't shake the sight of him with his strong, warm arms around another woman. She hadn't heard their conversation, she hadn't needed to as she had watched him crouch down and speak to Chanda before scooping her up in his arms. Just the stinging memory of it was bringing her back to her senses, making her want to bite him until it actually hurt this time. Did he think he could keep getting away with it? That he could keep pushing her away before yanking her back to him like she was some kind of unemotional yo-yo? Her body slowed down and she could feel her small hands fisting at his shirt, wanting to shove him away from her, to stop giving him the satisfaction of knowing just what he did to her. Who the hell did he think he was?! Her body might have wanted him, her heart might have even needed him bit she wasn't just some puppet that he could do with what he liked. She had a damned brain and she chastised herself for letting her body and heart take over yet again. She wouldn't let him have her like this, not again!

"Aray! Chanda!" he heard Dadi's voice hiss out a whisper, "What are you doing out here? I would have nearly killed you with this, I'm telling you. You shouldn't be wandering out in the dark like a thief! Eh?" Shivam heard the irritation and relief in the old crone's voice at finding that she wasn't alone with an intruder afterall. Her voice had jolted him back to reality, his lips suddenly pulling away and breaking the heated contact with Riya as they both completely stilled their movements at dadi's and now Chanda's presence; it was taking all his concentration to get his breath back after the way she had kissed him back just as desperately. This whole damned thing was getting out of hand and quickly. He was sure dadi's voice was louder, harsher and much too close for comfort as it quickly stripped away the haze from between them, their eyes locked on one another in a heady mixture of pure arousal, frustration and the fear of getting caught at any moment. And he was sure he could see something else in Riya's eyes... renewed anger perhaps as she seemed to distance herself from him in mind if not in body. "Please forgive me Dadiji. I had gone to the washroom upstairs and I tripped over something. Shivam was so kind, he helped... he helped me to come back downstairs. I was just getting some water before coming back to bed... forgive me, I never meant to t-to frighten you Dadiji" he listened to her intently even as Riya's eyes darkened impossibly in the muted light; he wasn't even sure why she was still angry after Chanda's explanation and yet something about what the girl had said didn't sit right with him. How was she able to walk to the kitchen on that foot? He had expected her to just walk the short distance and into dadi's room, not go on a mini-trek around to the kitchen. However, right this moment he could have blessed her; he was sure they would have been caught had Chanda not made herself known to dadi when she had... their being caught had been much too close for comfort. He must have lost his f**king mind if he was locking lips with his half dressed wife in the middle of the night and that too only a short distance from dadi's bedroom. What the hell had Riya turned him into? He felt like he was some hormonal teenager unable to control himself whenever he was just thinking of her or around her! This kind of behaviour wasn't damn well conducive to living with the rest of the family; not in a million years would he have thought that once he had married he would have desired his wife so voraciously and yet here they were, unable to keep their hands off each other even in the situation he had imposed on them as he pushed her away a little more every day. If he had confused Riya, then he was ten times more confused... he was losing his mind; he had slept so little in the past few months that he must have finally snapped because he didn't even damn well recognise himself anymore. Just as Chanda gave her explanation he felt Riya's breath against his cheek and mouth as his face remained tilted down to her, his already hard erection twitched yet again at her movement against him, Oh God... did she just push her breasts into my chest? Again? He could hardly believe it, sure of himself that she would have wanted to run far away in the opposite direction after feeling his unashamed arousal digging and practically begging permission to enter her even through their clothes... well, his clothes. However, one look at her face told him all he needed to know... she hadn't been pressing into him, no, she was furious at Chanda's words rather than appeased and she had huffed out in her anger at him, fisting her hand harder into his chest than was necessary. No she hadn't tried to get closer; she was angry with him still and trying to inflict pain as though a butterfly could knock over a wall of granite with its flapping wings. He hadn't even realised that she was trying to hurt him until he looked at her body language. Shivam grabbed her wrists, stilling her movement before she damn well hurt herself because she sure as hell wasn't going to hurt him by whatever she thought she was doing. Their breathing came out ragged and deep against one another's skin, their own silent drama unfolding in each other's embrace as the conversation around the corner continued. "No... no you did well. You're a good girl Chanda... you keep doing things like that beta, eh? Come now, come to bed before we wake everyone... you have a lot to do tomorrow..." Chanda replied almost too quickly, "But Dadiji, I didn't do it on purpose, I-" her words were interrupted as was dadi's usual style, "Yes, yes... enough of that now, eh. Lets just go back to sleep..." He frowned, still gripping Riya's wrists into stillness as he listened to dadi's encouraging words at how well' Chanda had done. What the hell was going on? He was sick to death of being everyone's pawn; it was clear that dadi and bua had wanted to hook him up with Chanda; that had been too obvious to ignore. But this conversation seemed even more off, as though Chanda was keeping something even from dadi. Whatever. We need to get the hell out of here. He shrugged the thought off when he felt her wriggle against him yet again; he was quickly losing patience with her once more, couldn't she damn well understand where they were? Just as he heard the door to dadi's room click closed and the dim light seeping in from her room finally blinked off, he felt Riya tug hard at him, almost yanking herself out of his grasp and pulling on her damaged shoulder. Shivam's anger broke through the surface then, he ground out through gritted teeth as he kept his voice down and dangerously close to shouting at her as his blood raced, "Stop it! You're going to get us caught!" he almost shook her to reinforce his words, but instead remained still. "I don't care. Then dadi will have no choice but to bash my head in my sleep with that stupid radio of hers and finish me off once and for all. That should make you all happy" she spoke the words out, the tremble in her voice as she tried to keep it level telling him that all she wanted to do was cry or scream at him or maybe even scratch his eyes out. Her tears rolled down in her bristling anger as she shoved uselessly at him again and he was sure that she had finally lost her head when she had spoken her crazy words. Shivam couldn't help but smirk at her words, loving her reference to the radio that dadi practically ate and slept with; the corner of his lips tugging upwards and now beyond aroused at the woman pushing and shoving in his embrace. She was so f**king cute even when she was seething and enraged with him, he couldn't help but want to goad her even if he knew he was playing with fire. Unable to push back his arousal, he ground his jaw again and purposefully shoved his hips into her body now stilling her as he made it very obvious what effect she was having on him, "Riya, don't be ridiculous. And keep doing that and you'll find out exactly what I'll do back to you... I'm warning you" his voice had turned thick, deep and wanting even as he had kept it low in the blackness surrounding them; his breathing had completely lost all rhythm as his chest heaved into her and as hers did into his. Her voice cracked, no doubt at the feel of his manhood now completely flush against her belly with just his jeans and her t-shirt between them. "You can warn me all you want! Get off! I'm FINE without you, ok?... I'll just go back to my mat and you can forget anything ever happened tonight. Go and dream about Chanda. Go and kiss her instead! I don't know why you keep kissing me anyway. I hate you Shivam! Just leave me alone, alright!" she bristled and shivered against him, his eyes narrowing and his breathing deepening at her words. He silently found himself vowing never to give her those tablets ever again; he really hadn't seen her behave like this before and as much as it inexplicably turned him on, he hated that she was hurting so much and so obviously having lost her inhibitions and nearly getting them caught in the process. Shivam unpinned her for barely a moment, her body whirling away from him almost instantly before he yanked her back by her waist and careful not to hurt the skin over her shoulder. He pulled her so firmly that her back slammed into his chest and his hard cock now straining like a damned obelisk against his too tight jeans, pushing and grinding against her lower back as she whimpered even as he bit back his own moan. He found his face achingly close to her neck, knowing his eyes had darkened at their new position against each other and replaying her last words to him. He was angry with her and he wasn't even sure why and still he wanted her. "Don't mess with me tonight. I'm exhausted, you're hurt and I'm not leaving you by yourself in this state. Go ahead and scream, even if Dadi tells me to chuck you out the window... which I probably should... I won't... and you can be responsible for another damned scene in this house..." He leaned in closer to her, his lips now brushing against the intensely sensitive skin on her neck as she squirmed in his arms; he wasn't sure if she was leaning away from him or into him, but he couldn't keep the cool anger and hot need in his voice from filtering over her trembling frame before speaking again, "... and don't worry Riya, I won't kiss you ever again. It was my mistake... " he felt the shudder flow through her entire body at the feel of his lips against her neck, his deep voice tumbling over her skin like the deepest vibration as his own body hummed in need for her, to just damn well sink into her once and for all and breathe her in. And yet he held back, hating himself for the promise he had just made. It was needed after what they had just shared in; the intensity they seemed to create in one another's presence was so all consuming that he wondered how in god's name he hadn't taken her with him and far away from this place so he could just be with his wife the way he ached. The truth was she was right, he shouldn't have been kissing her every time they met like this and yet his body and heart and mind synchronised in their need to touch her, love her like she was part of him and he couldn't stop. Damn him to hell, but he didn't know how to anymore; it was what was making the whole f**king thing unbearable, forcing himself to stay far far away from her despite his natural desperation to meld with her. Without giving her a chance to reply, her own chest heaving erotically at the sound of his bass voice, he bent down and hooked his arms under her bare thighs as he slid one arm around her waist. Even as he swung her into and against him he realised all too late that his hand had ridden up the t-shirt she wore, his both palms now flush against the bare skin of her thighs and midriff and aching to caress over her silken heat. I swear to God this woman is going to give me a damned heart attack, Shivam grit his teeth for what felt like the thousandth time, her still mute form in his arms as he carried her as quickly as he could back up the stairs. His brain was so tired and drained that he felt the sudden light headedness overtake him, causing him to pause at the top of the stairs for a moment and gain his balance even as his thoughts continued to race. Why do I keep kissing her like I need her to breathe? Maybe because she is your whole life asshole. Maybe because you keep hurting her and the only f**king way you can make yourself feel better is to kiss her. His inner thoughts spewed the hatred back at himself, showing no compassion... neither did he want it; he damned well deserved to suffer for what he was doing to her. It was as though he became someone else when she pushed his buttons, goading him and grating on him until he didn't know what else to do other than fuse his mouth to hers, the sensations flooding him with pure and unadulterated relief. Except it was all so damned wrong! Every time he pushed her away with one hand, he couldn't help but pull her back to him with the other. He needed to f**king stop. It wasn't fair to her, not when he was going to let her go in the end... not when he was going to break her anyway once his time with her was up. Not when he was damning himself to an eternity without her. He felt her small hand squeeze his forearm; when he looked down at her he saw the concern and worry in her eyes for him making his chest contract, "Put me down Shivam... I can walk there myself" she half ordered, half asked him and he was surprised that she wasn't still hissing and spitting at him like an adorable little garden snake trying to be a big bad viper. He raised his eyebrow for a moment before dropping it, "No way. I'm not risking you running off and then I'll have to find you again" was all he said, effectively silencing her as he walked into the room and put her down near the bed; he slid his eyes from her half-naked body and walked to the door before locking it shut. When he turned back around he found her twisting the t-shirt in her hands, the hem coming half way down her caramel thighs and baggy over her shoulders. He couldn't help but stalk up to her before stopping short, the sight of her tightening his core all over again as if it had ever stopped anyway. "And next time you decide to go gallivanting around the house in the dead of night, put some damned trousers on and cover your legs. Anyone could have seen you like this" he sliced the air infront of him as he growled out the words, angry that she would take such a risk. Her body was for him and no one else, ever. He ignored the blaring fact that in only a few short months he wouldn't even be allowed to visit her, let alone claim her body as his. God... he was too tired for this shit. The exhaustion rippled over him like tar as if dragging him under with what little energy he had left. "I need to sleep Riya and so do you. Come on... take it off"

Riya frowned, looking bewildered and a little panicked at what he had just asked her to do. She was unsure and her enitre body was buzzing and humming and aching from the way his lips had moved against her skin, the feel of his scorching palms against her body and the feel of his arousal tightening a hundred thousand knots in her own womb and yet, she wasn't quite comprehending whatever it was he thought she should be doing right now. She shook her head, "I don't need to take my clothes off Shivam". He scowled at her response, not quite believing what he had just heard, "You're beautiful Riya, but I'm not some damned monster that I want to ogle you while you're hurt. Stop being so damned stupid" he couldn't stop himself from insulting her yet again, the images of her naked now swimming through his head and clearing the cobwebs of tiredness away for a while. He grit his teeth and spoke slowly in his frustration at what could only be her wilful ignorance, "Take. Off. Your. Bra" he practically spelt it out like she didn't understand his language or had lost a few brain cells. He watched her flinch at his words, words he knew all too well that only a husband could have the right to utter to his wife. "No!" she gasped out to him, clearly shocked at what he had asked her to do as she took a step back from him, her hands still dangling to her sides. He had had enough messing around; his patience had completely atrophied and he took a step towards her as his own response hardened into granite and he clenched his jaw yet again, "Riya take the damned thing off now or I swear to you I'm going to do it myself in three seconds flat. Your choice" he let the words hang between them as her face contorted softly into a frown, her breathing heavier as his eyes dropped to her heaving chest before looking back up at face. "Fine you stupid pig!" she spat the words out at him in her obvious misunderstanding even if he had been too tired to explain; he had been sure would have understood his meaning. He watched her reach behind and under the t-shirt when she suddenly hissed out in pain, no doubt she had stretched the raw skin around her shoulder. Shivam had already closed the distance between them, concern etched over his face as he placed a hand on her arm to still her. "Stop. Come here..." he looked down at her, now close enough to breathe in her floral jasmine scent once again, making him want to take deeper breaths in. She looked up at him, uncertainty in her beautiful doe shaped eyes before he swallowed hard and moved behind her. He stood still, his hands by his sides as he felt a sudden weight over his heart and feeling utterly defeated; he couldn't stop the sigh leaving his lips before he spoke at her obviously tense and worried form, "Riya just relax. I'm not going to do anything" he tried to calm and soothe her even if he felt the sting of his own annoyance. What the hell did she think he was? An animal that couldn't control himself? Maybe when she wasn't hurt and in pain, but this wasn't exactly the f**king time to be thinking such things. He swallowed hard again before slowly and gently lifting his t-shirt higher up her back, his fingers unintentionally brushing against her skin as he felt the fine and unceasing tremor in her body at his touch. He felt his arousal thicken between his thighs, a lump of need lodged in his throat and his entire body tense and wide awake once again. It had surely been an eternity already as he continued sliding the soft material up until he reached the edges of the dainty pink clasp of her bra. He could hear her; her breathing deep and tremulous as the tips of his fingers begged him to touch her more, to caress her, knead her the way he was always meant to touch her. And yet he kept his decorum, kept his distance as he focussed on calming his own breathing. He knew his fingers were calloused and rough from all the training and workout sessions he put himself through and he hoped somewhere in the back of his mind that his touch didn't disgust her. He hooked his fingers into the straps, her back suddenly flinching against his touch as he unhooked her bra and he would have bet his life right there that he had heard the soft whimper leave her mouth, like a damned mating call to him. Back away now Shivam... step the hell back from her... he silently ordered and warned himself, knowing how f**king close he had come to stepping into her, sliding his hands round to her front and raising his palms until his hands cupped her bare breasts, her bra hitched up and her back arching into him. He clenched his teeth hard enough to shatter diamonds, breathing hard and wilfully shaking the image out of his head before he did something completely insane. Finally he stepped back from her, letting his t-shirt drop back down over her silky skin, his breathing matching her own heavy and laboured. His voice was husky even to his own ears as she turned back to him, her face now suffused with the sexiest pink blush he had ever seen as she bit into her lip and looking anywhere but him. She moved her arms then, trying to shimmy out of the lacy lingerie without taking the shirt off and he decided to make his damned voice work before he threw himself at her, "Your skin will heal better without... without your bra. And the straps pinching into your skin... you shouldn't sleep with it on" If I had my way she would never wear that ridiculous thing to bed... he thought heatedly to himself as he tried to look away; how many times had he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulling her into his as they lay in bed together, feeling the tough strap of her bra pinching her skin and wishing with everything he was that he could just tear the f**king thing in half and never have to feel it on her again? At least not in their bed where his hands should have been free to wander over her. He swallowed again, now pulling at his hair and feeling the defined muscles above his shoulders harden and bunch in response to his thoughts, the tension wracking through him. Not a day went by that he missed the way she used to massage the tension out of his shoulders after a long day at work. He would be sat on the edge of the bed as she perched herself on her knees behind him; kneading his muscles into her submission, talking happily about her day as her gentle voice lulled him soothingly. However, he very much doubted he would feel soothed by her hands now, considering his raging erection at present.

He clamped his jaw hard enough that it hurt, forcing the thoughts away and running his hands through his hair once again and pulling until it hurt. He dropped his arm, beyond tired and sexually frustrated even as his heart ached for her, "Riya... just go to sleep. Please. I'll be right here on the couch if you need me" he gestured with his left hand to the small L-shaped two-seater sofa tucked away in the corner of the room before making his way to it and not waiting for her reply. He was so f**king tired, his body and brain completely drained after their midnight escapade and the close call with dadi... not to mention the roller coaster his body and hormones had just been on and was still on. As he walked away from her he heard her soft voice, gentle and soft and in complete opposition to her earlier tirade against his chest, "Shivam?..." she paused until he fully turned to her, waiting for her, "Please let me get you something to eat? You're hungry... I know you are" Almost immediately he shook a negatory with his head, not bothering to answer her aloud before moving to turn again. "Then... then at least sleep on the bed next to me? I'll stay on my side, I promise..." her sad eyes looked down again and he found himself inwardly flinching at her words, wanting nothing more than to wrap her in his arms and bury his face in her warmth; he knew he would drop off to sleep in seconds if his damned cock would let him. However, he shook his head again before gravelling out his words, "No... thanks. I'm good on the couch" he said levelly and even as he finished the last syllable he saw her face morph from quiet sadness to hurt and disappointment and anger. He felt her fluster towards him, his eyes gravitating to her bare breasts moving freely under his t-shirt in the muted light of the corner lamp and his body coiled up again. He found himself instinctively taking a step back from her this time, his need to hurl her into his bed, yank her top up and sink his mouth over her breasts was now all too powerful and consuming at her proximity and his badly wavering willpower. He was truly beyond and above exhausted; he needed her, he was a man and he needed more than anything to lose himself in his wife. Shivam took another step back amidst the rippling thoughts, his throat moved as he swallowed back the pain in her eyes as he moved away from her. Her voice was laced with hurt when she spoke to him, her small hands fisting by her sides, "Fine. If you can't bear to be anywhere near me Shivam then at least go and eat something. You obviously didn't have dinner with the rest of the family when you walked in on me. So either you let me get you something or you can go and get it yourself, but I wont shut up until you do" her voice had both trembled and bristled as she spoke each word to him and he fell in love with her all over again like he did every time she tried to take care of him. However, even as his heart had melted when he took yet another step back from her, his voice had come out hard just as he intended as the tension of being unable to hold her licked through his veins like an all consuming ache. There was no f**king way she was walking out there without a bra on. "Fine" he rumbled out, "I'll go and get something, but you better be in that bed by the time I get back or I'm not eating no matter how much you whine and blather on, understood? Don't think for one minute that just because I'm letting you stay in here you can tell me what to do. You can't, you signed the papers, remember? That means you signed away whatever rights you had on me" he pointed to the bed, his throat aching at his hateful words to her, "this is just until you get better. But I'm tired and I don't want to listen to you complain for the rest of the night" Shivam watched her face drop further and further until his heart cracked at the unmistakable hurt in her eyes, knowing just how much she hated him bossing her about and needing to throw in the insults to remind her that little had changed between them. It wasn't exactly a secret that he wanted her, desired her... but for all intents and purposes she didn't know how he felt and he preferred to keep it that way. Nothing had changed in his decision to let her go; if anything it had strengthened after hearing the way his mother and dadi and bua had verbally torn her to shreds. He might have lost his control once or twice but he wasn't bringing her into his family to f**k her life up more than he already had. After seeing the passion coursing through her it had only solidified to him how full of life she was, how vital and incredible she could be without a family such as this to shrivel her spirit up. No... he would have to learn to breathe without her, he would even watch her from far, protecting her if he had to... but he wouldn't cage her here, he wouldn't stamp out that light in her, the light that breathed life into him and made him want to weep and laugh at the same time. No... keeping her here? That wasn't love; it was a jail sentence. It didn't matter that his body had seem to come alive more than he had ever thought possible, it didn't matter that she made his blood race and pump as though everything was speeding up and slowing down at the same time as their bodies came together. It didn't matter. It couldn't. He would never deny that they were meant to be together; he would never deny that Riya Mathur had been born for him. To do so would be blasphemy against the love he felt for her, the all consuming need to put her first in all things... when he took the vows as they had walked around the holy fire he had promised to take care of her. What he hadn't known was that in order to do that... to truly take care of her, he would have to let her go.

And so with that sobering and sad thought he was sure his heart was imploding in on itself as he looked at her eyes now welling up with her precious tears. She could never know what each one meant to him; each drop a testament to her love for him and he had been wasting every one, pushing her away, aside, anywhere but towards him. And so yes, he had insulted her yet again, he had hurt her and pushed her away until he was sure she was afraid to trust even herself anymore. Shivam closed his eyes for a moment, wishing that simply closing his eyes would make his aching heart stop hurting so much; he looked to the floor before hiding the pain deep down where no one would even suspect it existed and then he looked to her once more. Shivam watched as she made her way to the bed and slipping herself in-between the sheets he himself had lain in only that morning, already following his words to the letter in her hopes that he would go down and eat. It seemed that she could never stop loving him; no matter how much of a bas***d he was to her, she belonged to him and it seemed she would never let him forget it. Well... he wouldn't. She did belong to him, with him. But... that didn't mean that it was written in their destiny...

*****

Please read Part Five A for continuation

Ah the passion! Loved your updates... i have more to write