Note: I usually add a pic to set the tone of the Chapter, it is not to show the exact placement of the characters.
Prologue: http://www.india-forums.com/forum_posts.asp?TID=3970316
Chapter 1
She stiffened as he stood up. The air thickened, she couldn't breathe. The power he exuded, was rolling off in waves, hitting her and weakening her already dwindling resolve. No, she felt like screaming, No, No, No. Whatever this man had in store for her would scare her out her wits, would hurt her. She knew, she just knew.
But, words refused to leave her mouth. She looked up, her wet, doe-eyes unwavering. Unaware, that her eyes communicated her innocence, fear, confusion and weakness. He felt a tug in his heart. He ignored it.
Now was not the time to take pity on his pretty
little captive. Wife, a small voice
whispered, wife, not captive, your pretty
little WIFE. The thought annoyed him, incensed him further. So he was
saddled to a nave, village girl. Who probably was as aware of the realities of
the world as a child.
He strode up to her. She gasped as he pulled her up. That's when she realized her legs were completely, utterly useless, from fear or sitting tensed too long, they refused to support her. Rudra obliged by putting a strong arm against the sagging, soft body and pulled her to him. She didn't like his support as much as he did. Sounds of her moving payals and bangles pleased him. But nothing effected him more than those speaking eyes and trembling lips.
Those lips seemed soft and wet. Also, warm and inviting, he unconsciously licked his own. At that ,Paro's eyes widened and flickered to his lips . Why the action disturbed her so much was beyond her.
With her it seemed less was more. The more he waited the more her fear increased. It was the suspense of the unknown that was controlling her mind. This was one of his favorite strategies; letting the ridiculous fear of him control his opponents, weaken them, before he swiftly finished them off.
Here swiftness would be pointless. It would rob him of pleasure, extreme pleasure. She wasn't going anywhere and neither was he. No longer was she some stranger hiding in his house, now she was his wife. His raging blood filled body was a furnace. It demanded him too take the trembling lips and bite them till they were raw and she cried out. To to grind the life out her, revive her and then take her again. His nostrils flared, his breathing painfully hardened, as his eyes looked longingly at her lips.
Noting the change in him, Paro whimpered. The sound
brought his attention back to her eyes, and he smirked. Pressed into him, her
head pulled back, she was an exquisite
vision of innocence.
Everything about her face was aglow, and he
was realized he had never seen such beauty. Never in Laila, or in any of the dancing woman that threw themselves
in his path. She seemed so real.
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