All Of Me, Loves All Of You - IshRa SS | Last Chp - Page 89 - Page 62

Originally posted by: PagliLadki

Res

Author' Note -

So we are here at last. Can't believe I actually am finally ending this one. It's a bittersweet experience in a way, one which wouldn't have been possible without the love, support and appreciation I got from you guys, my readers - silent and otherwise - so thank you all so much for that.

With this one, it is a wrap and I hope the end doesn't disappoint you.

This chapter has been something of a challenge for me to write - not because I didn't know how to proceed - rather because I did. I believe the content of this chapter or rather the concept of it is hard to tackle in the written word - before you know it you could be going purple :P and while purple is a color I immensely do like, it's not one to appreciate in literary matters.

Hope this journey was as enjoyable for you'll as much as it was for me.

Au revoir

Chapter 9 - The Way We Bared Ourselves.

"And maybe that was love. Being so vulnerable and allowing someone else in so far they could hurt you, but they also give you everything."
Christine Feehan, Water Bound

"It suddenly made sense. Only twice in his life had he felt this inexplicable, almost mystical attraction to a woman. He'd thought it remarkable, to have found two, when in his heart he'd always believed there was only one perfect woman out there for him.

His heart had been right. There was only one."
Julia Quinn, An Offer From a Gentleman

"I had to touch you with my hands, I had to taste you with my tongue; one can't love and do nothing."
Graham Greene, The End of the Affair

His hands become gentle, touches light as he lifts the hemline of her t-shirt once again.

Afraid to hurt her unwittingly, excited and nervous at the same time he knows Ishita must be feeling the same things a million times over given that her breathing is shallow and she is still as a statue.

His fingers brush against her breasts and he can swear his heart skipped a beat right at the moment while the catch of her breath was loud enough to be audible to his ears.

"Slowly move your right arm out of the sleeve Ishita; we will do this one side at a time."

She nods her head and does as instructed.

Once her hand is free from the sleeve, he gathers the right side over her shoulder and as she is about to move her free hand over to her injured side he stops her.

"Don't. I'll take the left side off just keep your left arm as still as possible, hold it with your right one if you want to."

Holding the wrist of her left hand in her right palm, she murmurs,

"Ready."

"Okay, don't move Ishita, I promise to be careful."

Slowly he gathers the bunched up right side of her t-shirt from her shoulder in his hand and gently lifts it over her head. Holding onto her injured elbow with a hand his other hand continues its ministrations and the garment is off however the two times Ishita winces when the movement hurts her he feels awful.

It takes all the resolve he can muster to not move or utter a word in the following seconds as Ishita sits before him in a black sports bra and her track pants. Her left shoulder has a scratch, there is a bandage above her elbow, her palm has also borne the brunt of her fall as Ishita had tried to use it break her fall and save her face from getting slammed against the hard ground.

His wife looks conscious of his scrutiny, he can make that out from the way she is twisting her hands discreetly placed in her lap, not meeting his gaze. Only if he could speak aloud now how his will is threatening to crumble at the sight before him, the view enticing him, how his mouth has gone dry.

How despite her notions he finds her still beautiful, gorgeous. How he wants her, aches for her.

A spot calls out to him in particular more than words can define as he catches the first glimpse of a small brownish birthmark right above her heart and cannot help but want to kiss it, taste it and pay homage to it. Without the shot of a doubt, it has become his favorite thing about her now.

It is his first discovery of the unexplored, one that would be always special to him since it would be the reminder of this moment to him when Ishita and he crossed over into a significant aspect of their relationship. Of all the freckles and birthmarks mapped across her body, secrets he would know soon, this one will be the most special to him, the one holding a reverence above the rest.

His eyes cannot seem to move away from the sight before him and he fears he was on the verge of snapping, when she sought refuge in his arms holding him for dear life.

He doesn't know how to touch her and not be carried away; he can't know how to stop his traitorous arms that want to hold her.

In the end, he seeks refuge in the moment of her fall, the reason they are here in the first place and leashes himself up, knowing they would be there someday soon, there would be no need to hold back then, not his words, his actions or feelings - only today is not that day.

His arms engulf her as they caress her back making her tremble, his name escaping from her lips somewhere between a sigh and a plea,

"Raman."

He reminds himself she is hurt and he cannot afford to see her in any more pain; his reckless actions can hurt her and with that thought finds his hand slowly pulling out her hair tie setting free her locks. They slowly spread over her shoulders, shielding her from his view, offering him the little respite but also making her more alluring at the same time. The way her silky locks frame her lovely face make her look even more enchanting to him, he has never voiced it aloud but her long hair has always enchanted him. The recurring aspect of his fantasies about her has always been about how it would look fanned across his pillow, over his bed when they would make love.

The way it looks now, with her more exposed to him than ever before ,makes him draw a quick breath before he find her in his arms. Having her so close to him, when his traitorous desire demands more is nothing short of hell, he thinks to himself.

Of all the times, they could have crossed these barriers; it took an incident like this, where she is hurt for them to do this. He wonders would anything ever be simple and easy for them as his hand reaches for the shirt placed beside them on the bed.

Soon he pries off her right arm from around him slipping the sleeve over it. Once the right side is secured in, he pulls the shirt through the back, making sure her hair is not caught in it and draws back to help her put on the left side. He pulls together the shirt in the front to find her eyes shut and her breath held.

Taking a deep breath, he withdraws his hands and hoarsely whispers, knowing he cannot do this and not snap...somewhere he finds the trust that he can withhold himself shaken and so makes the request.

"Fasten the buttons Ishita."

Mechanically she gets to the task after wordlessly heading to him; wordlessly she notices him, they way his body is stiff. When her eyes meet his as he looks at her, the torment in them is enough to make her realize her husband is in agony as she notices he has fisted his hands at his sides as he waits on her to be done. He...he is affected by her.

She experienced this moments ago as well however, she finds it will never be enough, never...she would always want to know he wants her, always, forever, the way she wants him. The way only she is ever allowed to want him, have him; the way only he can ever want her, have her.

Shaking her head slightly, she reminds herself, she has yet to get dressed; now is not the time to be distracted.

Only it worries her...she worries for him, how would he cope with what is next? His name finds its way on her lips and she utters it before she can stop herself.

"Raman."

"Hmm..."

Only when he does ask her with the simple hum and a raised eyebrow, does it occur to her she can't do this, she can't stop him, so She simply shakes her head in the negative unable to find her voice. She knows what's next as does he; she doesn't want him to suffer more but she is scared should she ask him to stop now, he might misconstrue her and she doesn't want that.

She does not want him to think she is backing away, or worse, rejecting him or his touches. She does not want to be the reason his demons come back to haunt him. His hands on her, warded off at this crucial juncture might make this whole exercise pointless. One step forward and two steps back...no, she cannot.

She will not undermine him, even if to put him out of his misery unless essential, she concludes in her mind.

He tucks his thumbs in the waistband of her pants and her breath hitches as he pulls them down by the fraction of an inch while her husband seems to have held his breath entirely.

Finally releasing his breath, he marches on but when his thumbs brush against her panty he jerks his hands off as his head slumps against her chest; his forehead coming to a rest against the column of her neck as he takes a few deep breaths.

"Ishita I..."

She cuts him off by running a gentle head across his head softly murmuring,

"I'll get the pants off, can you..."

"I am sorry."

"Raman no... please I am sorry"

"Ishita, you don't need to...it's my..."

She cuts him off by placing a finger on his lips that gets him to stop immediately,

"Let's just agree that it's no one' mistake okay?"

His eyes soften with that and he gives a soft kiss to the finger placed on his lips, nodding quietly later, she withdraws her hand once he agrees and he has to ask her,

"Are you sure? I mean your hand."

"I'll manage and if... if it hurts I will ask for help I promise."

He blinks to understand her request, thinks for a split second to protest but decides against it at the last moment. He can do what she asks of him.

"Okay, how do you wanna go about this?"

"Stand up."

Unsure of her course of action, he silently abides to her instruction and sees her lift her hips gently as her hands go towards her waist. Slowly inch-by-inch skin reveals itself to him in the dim light of the room and he can still make out dark splotches on the otherwise pale perfection that is his wife. There is a particularly nasty cut on her shin in purple and black that makes him wince despite promise he wouldn't do so.

The thought that she was in so much pain and yet thinking about letting down him and his daughter made his eyes misty as a lump formed in his throat. As she manages to take off the pant mostly it occurs to her she cannot do it all the way, taking it off entirely would require some help; she lifts her head to look at him to ask him in a wordless gesture after gathering her nerves, about the same time, he holds her shoulder to offer her his help.

"Let me."

He expects her to deny or protest for a brief second; even though he knows, she seeked his help, she acquiesced. A part of him prepares itself for that denial, that gentle or harsh rebuke to come but instead she gingerly nods her head and sits straighter.

At her action, he releases the breath he did not realize he was holding for a while. A warmth courses through his veins, his heart at her acceptance and all he wants to do right now is take her in the tightest of hugs and never let go. Smother her face with kisses and make sweet love to her...only the rational part of him kicks into action reminding him she is hurt and there will be time for all that he desires later.

She is his, only his, forever and ever, he thinks with a surge of possessiveness and vows to let her know just how much he loves her, how much she means to him. Words of affection don't come easy to him, not now, not to this man that he has become but he would make it evident to her with his actions.

When the time comes, when the moment arrives he vows he would worship her body with his, let his touches and kisses speak aloud where words have failed him.

She would know how ardently he loves her, adores her and craves every single bit of her with all his heart.

With the thought, his hands take hold of the piece of clothing dirtied by soil and her blood. Cautious not to tamper with the her bandage he removes the right side as he had done with the t-shirt too and slowly lifts her ankle holding it in the palm of his hand as he takes off the garment from the damaged area, wary of not being too urgent in his actions.

He throws the track pants behind him and immediately reaches for the Capris without looking up at his wife. Just as he had discarded of the dirtied track pants, he sets about to put on the capris on her legs. She lifts her right leg, helping him in her own small way and slips her leg through the pant leg, and ceases her movements.

Gingerly he lifts her sprained ankle again and this time around slips the pant leg over it, once the pants have pooled around her knees he withdraws his hands and stands up.

Wordlessly she takes over from where her husband left off as she pulls the capris higher hissing when the garment scraps over her knee that throbs; lifting her hips she completes the task and looks at her husband.

She finds him with his eyes closed, his head lowered and his arms crossed, his fingers digging into them with a ferocity that let on to her what he must be going through.

"I am sorry Raman."

He opens his eyes to look at her and is by her side in an instant. He can see she was about to speak again when he keeps a finger over her lips asking her to hush,

"No apologies. "

"But..."

"Nothing don't you remember you said no one' fault, so no apologies needed..."

Cupping her face in his hands, he assures her with all his heart,

"You have nothing to apologize for Ishita, okay believe me when I say that."

Choked and overcome by his tenderness tears pool in her eyes that he quickly wipes away,

"Do you want Ruhi to scold me now? She would think I made her Ishimaa cry...so I beg you, please don't do this to this poor father all right? "

She has to laugh at that even through her tears, as she wipes them away.

"Okay. No more crying."

"That's like a good girl. Now let me fetch Ruhi before she pesters everyone asking how long we would take. The longer we do the more she would be curious and I would rather jump in a den of lions than have her ask me those things in front of our families."

She laughs harder and blushes as was his intent and he gets up from the bed to move towards the door when she holds his hand.

"Raman."

"Hmm..."

"Thank ..."

Before she can complete, he places a finger upon her lips stunning her.

"Shut up..."

"But..."

"Would you have expected a thank you from me had I been the one who needed your help?"

"No." She answers simply and has her answer even before her husband speaks up.

"Then I don't need a thank you too Ishita. There is no place for any formality between us now, is there?"

"No."

She whispers the word quietly with a shake of her head.

A quiet settles over the room as they continue to look at each other.

She doesn't realize it that a tear has rolled over her cheek until his hand reaches out and gently wipes it away.

"Hey, didn't I just say no crying now? Then what's all this Ishita?"

She looks down for a while shaking her head unable to come up with a response making him gently tuck a finger under her chin making her look at him,

"You know you can tell me anything right? What is it?"

"It's nothing Raman really."

"If it's nothing then why are you crying, why wouldn't you look at me?"

When she doesn't reply he thinks maybe she is overwhelmed because she wasn't prepared for this...them.

"I think I understand why you are crying."

"You do?"

She looks at him with surprise written all over her face.

"I know you... this was all so sudden, I understand that. If I could, I would change the circumstances too but I cannot... I am sorry."

"What are you even saying Raman?"

"What happened right now, if...if we were...if we had, I mean I understand this must have been so awkward for you."

"Of course it was...awkward Raman but why would you say sorry for that?"

"I...I thought you were uncomfortable and because I said I would change..."

She shakes her head laughing slightly,

"This is why I wasn't saying what got me overwhelmed, you silly man. You men have a way to twist even simple things so weirdly, it's bizarre."

He looks affronted for a moment and says,

"Then what was I supposed to understand with all of this?"

"Raman...I was crying because I was... happy."

When he merely blinks at her with a blank look on his face, she reaches out to take hold of his hands with both of hers.

"Raman...I... I was just thinking when I agreed to marry you I thought this is not what I wanted, yes I was getting Ruhi and trust me nothing makes me happier than her, she...she is everything to me but..."

"Hmm..."

"I couldn't help but wonder what kind of a marriage this would be what am I signing up for? You and I didn't even like each other back then after all... and here we are today. Yes, it was awkward and weird and all...I mean how could it not be right? You get it ... but it was also... I mean what happened now it was...it felt..."

"What?"

He whispers the word to her, afraid of breaking the eggshell fragility of the moment as she searches for the word that could surmise how she feels and in the end she closes her eyes to breath out a single word,

"Right...it felt so right Raman. I mean...it was you, my husband ...what else was it supposed to feel like, right? However, I never expected, even when I knew how huge this is... "

She continues in a voice that is barely a whisper, unable to look him in the eye as she goes on,

"Just how...how overwhelming this experience, this moment would be you know? I ...I never expected something like this would be our first experience into...into what is the most intimate aspect of a marriage...I am not even sure what I am saying here you know...it's hard to articulate what I feel like.."

He doesn't know what he was expecting or dreading would be her reply, but hearing her sends a shiver up his spine as he twines their fingers together, making her look at their hands and she continues oblivious to the fact what she has given him in this moment. How he feels compelled to weep with happiness but stops himself, how his heart is brimming with joy that he has someone at last who so completely owns him, all of him... someone who has given him, herself, just as completely in return. This time around he knows, he has not given his heart to someone unworthy...he has found the love of his life, his soulmate and his heart is safe with her.

"It felt...like...I cannot explain... all I can say is...I don't regret how we landed here because nothing has ever felt this right. You may be thinking I am being silly or foolish here, I know but...but I couldn't help my tears. I can't find the words but I want you to know I am happy so you...need not be sorry or worried about anything."

With her head bowed down , she continues looking down at their hands and so she is in for a surprise as she doesn't expect the quick kiss her husband gives on her forehead as he whispers against her hair,

"Believe me Ishita; I don't think you are silly or foolish... what we shared now is as beautiful and priceless to me as it is to you. I know that, I understand that. Do you want to know something?"

"Hmm..." She whispers the word looking into his eyes.

Releasing one of his hands from hers, he cups her face tenderly as he speaks up,

"What I said...when I... when I mentioned what Shagun used to do...I wasn't thinking straight... I wasn't thinking at all. I have never said that to anyone. I never spoke about these things...and ...and for a moment when I was careless tonight, when those words slipped out I was so embarrassed, so ashamed of myself I honestly don't know what made me say them. For a moment I was so scared of your reaction too but then you held my hand... and you know what."

"What?"

"It felt better...it...felt right...like ...with you I can share everything, anything. Even my dark, ugly wounds...I can share them with you because you heal even those...I don't have to hide from you."

A smile graces her lips on hearing his admission lighting up her face, making him have an answering one too.

"No you don't. This is what a marriage is about right? Having that one special person, in front of whom you can bare yourself, share yourself completely with- mind, body, heart and soul."

"Yes it is."

He murmurs softly, his warm, gentle auburn eyes boring into hers before they suddenly have a mischievous spark and something more blazing them, as they turn a shade darker. He raises a hand and gently trails his finger over the V of her collar that is providing him a tantalizing view of her cleavage as she leans into him. His finger is dangerously close to the birthmark he wants another peek at which he gets by moving aside the hindering fabric a tiny bit, making her heart skip a beat, her breathing halt for a moment.

His thumb traces hypnotizing circles over it setting her on fire as the movements of his digit so close to her heart accelerate its beating making her feel it might just explode out of her chest. Knowing he can feel the way her heart is pounding wildly in her chest, his effect on her, it should have her feeling erubescent, she thinks in a corner of her mind but instead it just accentuates everything she is feeling thanks to her husband' ministrations, she realizes.

It occurs to her, she does not care that he knows it; rather she wants him to know how he effects her.

Just as the thought crosses her mind, he lifts his eyes to hers, as he takes them off his distraction and they know instinctively...none of them is playful in the least now, nor is there anything else that is on their minds.

The world could catch fire around them and they wouldn't even notice, their senses, their minds now completely attuned to the other.

"Don't forget clothes."

He avers with a small smile playing on his lips making her blush a shade deeper even as he closes the distance between them and captures her lips with his while his hand envelopes her softness in his palm giving it a gentle squeeze, making her gasp, before it descends lower abandoning her breast. Making sure her injured leg isn't strained he gently moves it so that she may rest it on the floor confusing her. She realizes what he is doing when his hands gently go around her back and lower still as they slowly hitch her up, cupping her bottom, to place her onto his lap. Her hands lift of their own accord winding around his neck as his go around her to settle her.

They deepen the kiss with his mouth turning hot and insistent on hers as she answers to his hunger with a passion of her own, pouring her heart out into the kiss. She frames his face in her hands as she feels one of his hands at the small of her back supporting her while the other cradles her nape with his fingers tangling in her hair.

They part with panting breaths shortly so that she may get comfortable in his lap as she wiggles a bit and hitches her right leg around his waist. The exquisite moment when the curves of her body align with the hard planes of his perfectly makes them cease their movements. Reveling in the way they fit together, they bask in the feeling as he nuzzles into her, holding her close.

Her temple rests against his forehead before he turns his face around and begins placing kisses starting from her chin, descending towards the hollow of her neck. She gasps when she feels him bite her collarbone, as his persistent mouth follows the line of her shoulder. His nose nudges aside the shirt covering her. Before she knows it, his mouth is drawing in her skin, flicking his tongue over it. She writhes at the delicious agony as he kisses, nips and grazes the delicious mouthful. His tongue and teeth doing wicked things to her making her gasp loudly, her mouth opening to form the shape of an O'. His tongue soothes the sting followed by his kisses and the realization that her husband just marked her hits her. The very notion that she would be sporting a love bite he gave, spurs her on. She reaches out for him, capturing his lips with hers and this time he relents and lets her take the reins of the kiss before breaking apart to kiss her forehead, her eyes, her cheeks and the curve of her jaw followed by her neck before going back to her lips. Her hands leave a trail of fire on him even through his clothing as he feels them travel from his shoulders to his chest and to his abs and finally as they go around him. It doesn't occur to him but the way her fingers dig and claw into his back untuck his shirt from his pants and she has her hands on his skin as her nails dig into the small of his back as she holds him fiercely.

Once the need to breathe becomes imperative, they separate again and she speaks once she recovers her breath,

"I won't."

His mind though is still too hazy to think as he looks at her in confusion, making her smile. Knowing she can do this to him, realizing she has as much an effect on him and his senses, as he does on hers, is thrilling to her. Bringing around her uninjured hand from his back, she fondly runs her hand through his hair making him close his eyes as she whispers,

"I meant about the clothes."

Her hand leaves his hair to caress his face, as her fingers map his features running over the line of his brow, his nose, his cheek, the strong edge of his jaw coarse with his stubble now before tracing the dimple that appears with the smile on his face when he at last opens his eyes.

Looking into her eyes, he gives a small smile before turning his face around to kiss the palm caressing him making her smile as she leans in to kiss his cheek with the same reverence.

"You were right about not wanting to wear this shirt by the way." He informs her gently making her pull back to look at him as his hand reaches out to tuck a lock of her hair behind her ears.

"Why?"

She whispers the word, furrowing her brows. Her state of panic becoming evident from her expressions but instead of answering her, he nuzzles her neck and starts placing kisses against the long, graceful line of her throat. Her mind goes blank with the onslaught of sensations and she cannot remember she was panicking a moment earlier. Her attention diverted instead to his kisses and the way his hands have glided under the shirt and are tracing her curves. The heat of his touch, the way his hands feel over her skin crowds her mind. His mouth reaches her ear at last and as his lips trace the shell with soft kisses, her eyes to snap shut even as she shivers.

Her injured arm slowly relaxes as she releases its hold on his back, from whereon it travels up his stomach, his chest to grip his shoulder, joining its twin as she digs her nails into his shoulders, making him hotly whisper,

"Cause now all I can think about is taking it off of you."

"Raman."

She breathes his name softly.

Looking him in the eye, her breath quickens and her heart pounds even more ferociously as she feels just how affected he is. There is a change now certainly...something she had been feeling since a while, hot and hard against her, something that wasn't that prominent as it is now then when she straddled him and there is no mistaking as to what it is.

"You have no idea how sexy you look right now in it...god only if I had known this before..."

He trails off without finishing as color rises on her cheeks because of the blatant appreciation she receives from her husband. The hunger in his eyes, for her, makes the blood in her veins sing in a way that makes her feel heady. She is sure the emotions in her eyes mirror his, for there is an expression on her husband' face, in his eyes, besides love and lust which displays his happiness, his complete joy that she has never seen before.

Unable to help herself, she prompts him in a voice a little above a whisper,

"What would you have done then?"

For his reply, his hands slowly slide down her back as they go lower, lower still making her breath hitch, finally cupping her derriere he pulls her in closer to himself, something she didn't think was even possible. With their eyes locked on each other, she feels his hardness touching her, as she feels the way its mate weeps for it, the layers of their clothing between being the only things standing in their way as they prevent them from coming into contact with each other and their breathing gets harsh.

"Made sure you had worn it sooner."

He answers her in a husky voice with his eyes darker than they have ever been before, making her draw a sharp breath, but she cannot put up a fight, neither does she try to make him release her. Instead, she finds herself seeking even more of him, by putting her arms around him as she hides her face against his shoulder making her sigh his name raggedly,

"Raman."

His name, the only thing she finds herself capable of saying in a breathless, throaty voice.

A smile elicits itself on his lips and he is about to turn his face to kiss her cheek when he finds himself shocked and ceases his movements beginning to savor in the feeling of this moment.

His wife, she does something he never expected but is pleasantly surprised by, delights in.

He feels her lips placing tender kisses on the nook of his neck, similar to his moves earlier and his eyes snap shut. His grip on her tightens, and as she gets surer, more confident with each passing moment.

"Oh god, Ishita..."

The low groan he emits makes her smile against his skin as his hand glides up her spine to grip the back of her head tightly. Slowly he feels her lips veering towards his Adam' apple as she places a light kiss there followed by the first contact of her teeth on his skin when she gently bites him and soothes the bite with her tongue instantly, causing a rumbling sound to escape his mouth. Soon her lips descend lower and lower, burning him up, before he feels her mouth firmly focusing on the crook of his neck, as a spot becomes the object of her singular attention. He cannot help the tremble, the shiver that runs downs his spine as her teeth and tongue do wonderful things to him.

Lost in her loving, somehow his hazy brain recollects giving her a hickey minutes ago, as he realizes her ministrations are a replica of his actions. His doubt is confirmed the instant she soothes the spot with her tongue and kisses.

The thought itself that this woman, this beautiful, wonderful woman, he is madly in love with; is claiming him as her own, marking him as hers, is enough to make the blood in his veins roar, making him pull her in for a kiss.

Breathing heavily, they part and look at each other and he has to smile at the sight before him. His wife' hair is disheveled, her eyes brighter, her skin glowing as a blush colors it and her mouth, those tempting, teasing lips of hers look thoroughly kissed. While his eyes peruse her, she notices the state of her husband. Her fingers have messed up his hair, running along them; his mouth looks completely ravaged, his cheeks flushed and his shirt is in a state of disarray. However, most importantly there are tiny marks of her nails visible on his shoulders and near the crook of his neck. In addition, to them there is a spot at the base of his neck, which is taking the hue of a dark red color, making her smile.

They are about to lean in for another kiss when the freeze on hearing his mother' voice booming as she replies to Ruhi. Toshiji is letting her granddaughter know; her Ishimaa and papa will open the door soon so she better stop being so impatient and not pester her. Hearing the words, they are reminded they might have stolen these moments but they don't have the luxury to prolong them. Closing their eyes they lean into each other as she places her forehead against his, overhearing the racket. Little sighs escape their mouths simultaneously and despite the frustration of reality rudely interrupting them, they find themselves chuckling softly together as their eyes meet.

With a finality that lets her know they have to stop, he pulls away and his eyes veer towards her lips, his face become somber before they meet her eyes again.

However, before the moment can end, before he has to usher in everyone and most especially their impatiently waiting daughter, before they have to break the bubble they are in to welcome back reality, responsibilities and duties, they share one last caress of the lips with each other as they exchange the softest of kisses with smiles on their lips.

In an impromptu move, he makes her gasp with a kiss to the birthmark, which has become his obsession in a matter of minutes; before he withdraws her from his lap and gently sets her onto the bed again, making sure she is comfortable he gets up from their bed and heads towards the door. Once at the threshold, he switches on the lights, turning off the dim night lamps he had switched on earlier and is about to open the door when she stops him.

"Raman wait, don't open the door."

Surprised at her intervention a naughty smirk makes way on his face and he raises an eyebrow when the look on her face makes him realize, she is serious. It is when she asks him to tidy himself and it strikes him, what his state he is. Going towards the vanity, he looks at his reflection, finally getting a glimpse of what his wife has done to him and turns to face her making her blush, though she doesn't look away from him. Quietly he leans down and picks up her comb, crossing the distance between the bed and the vanity he hands it to her, making her quickly get to the task as he sets his clothes and hair right too. Once he sees she is done, her clothes and hair are presentable; he places the comb back on its place taking it from her and opens the door to usher in their daughter in by calling out to her who rushes up the stairs in a matter of seconds.

In the instant Ruhi is by her side in bed, ensuring her Ishimaa isn't in pain and looking at her peculiarly, noticing she is wearing a shirt of her papa, she notices her husband taking out the spare towel from their cupboard that he places on his shoulder. She blushes scarlet, knowing she is the reason he is about to have a shower, which she is sure is going to be cold given the heated look her husband sends her way, winking at her with a lopsided smirk playing on his face, the last thing she sees before he locks the door to their bathroom.

It is when she realizes the devil left her alone to answer Ruhi' questions that she quickly finds the blood in her veins is quickening for a reason other than her desire for her husband...namely her anger at him.

It stumps her for a while as to how should she answer Ruhi when she thinks of a way to evade her. Innocently pouting, she asks her daughter to request her patti to make some upma for her, as she is so hungry.

Their innocent daughter complies immediately and is off to relegate her Ishimaa' wishes to her patti, unaware that before her arrival with a plate of upma with her patti, her parents would have another little fight. A battle her papa would lose.

Unaware that her papa would be surprised, since her Ishimaa would greet him with a pillow on his face the moment he steps out of the bathroom, as he left her alone in what is a more dangerous situation than facing a pack of wolves all alone.

By the time Ruhi returns to her parents' bedroom with her patti in tow, along with a plate of upma, as per her Ishimaa' wishes, Raman Kumar Bhalla prepares himself to answer all his daughter' questions after facing his wife' wrath.

He knows his chances of getting lucky in the days to come, stand, as much on this situation as they do on the time it would take his wife to heal. Being the prudent man he is, he avoids taking any chances that would cost him dearly by delaying things further and slow him down even more, from getting any action, just because he finds teasing his wife is a hell lot of fun and leaving her alone with Ruhi was just a part of that.

He knows he can get even with his wife regarding the payback for the outburst he just faced, in more enjoyable ways than these little pranks and thinks he would prefer those infinitely more with a wicked glint in his eyes than any juvenile tricks.

After all, he knows a smart man picks his battles wisely.

Hence, for that first he must answer all the questions or better yet make sure there are no questions at all, especially from his sassy sisters, regarding why Ishita is wearing his shirt.

Or else be prepared to suffer the consequences.

In the end, he suffers from the consequences.