The Best of Things
(Ragya, Swasan) Fan Fiction Series +16
By Bubble
Chapter 68
Lakshya stood at the balcony and looked over at the stunning views of the mountains they were going to enjoy for the next three days. Their suite, at the topmost level of the restored haveli, was tastefully luxurious, wonderfully private and bedecked with flowers... it was fabulous! He stretched happily and turned to say something to his wife.
The words died on his lips. He came to lean against the door. Ragini was standing in front of a full length gilded mirror, carefully unpinning her gold-beaded red dupatta from her hair. She had only a couple of fastenings left to undo and the cloth fell away to one side revealing her ensemble in all its true glory. The ghagra sat low on her tapering hips, a slender chain of gold and rice pearls circled the waist... his eyes travelled up her creamy back, which was almost completely bare - but for a thin band of bejewelled red that represented a choli. From the shoulders a heavily tasseled cord stretched across, tied up in a tantalisingly easy knot... his mouth went dry.
He tried to speak. "Is.. is that what you had under the odhni all day?!"
She looked at him in the mirror with a little smile. "The odhni is to maintain the bride's decorum... and the choli is for the dulha."
She flung the dupatta on the sofa and stretched to reach for the dori behind her.
"I can help with that!" he offered.
She raised her eyebrows at his reflection in the mirror. "Do you need me to invite you?"
"No..." he said, "no, the choli is already doing that!"
+++
The atmosphere in the honeymoon suite was charged with a certain heated awareness from both the people occupying it.
Lakshya lounged in the plush sofa, scooping up his second gulab jamun. They had asked for a room service dinner and the chefs had outdone themselves in sending up a trolley of food to the honeymoon suite... light salads, a fragrant pulav, a platter of Indian flatbreads, a couple of curries, raita and quite an array of sweets. They'd eaten a judicious amount but somehow neither of them could do full justice to the meal.
As she stacked the dishes on the trolley again, Ragini picked up a medium sized glass jar that she hadn't noticed before. In the best Indian tradition, the room service had sent up a jug of badam dhoodh laced with saffron for the groom. She laughed out loud.
Not that her husband needed to depend on these supports, she thought with an uptilt of her lips. The beautiful floral decoration of two intertwined hearts on the king sized bed had been disturbed quite enough already... But she poured the milk into a glass anyway and took it over to where he was sitting.
"The hotel thinks you might need some milk on your suhaag raat, Lakshya!" she held the glass out to him, mischief in her face.
He cast her a loaded look before taking the glass from her hands. "I like this place. They think of everything!"
He raised the glass to his lips and then stopped as she perched near him. "Want some?" he asked.
She nodded.
He brought the glass to her lips and tilted it slightly. She took two sips and nodded. The milk marked the glass where it had been tilted. With eyes still locked with hers, he raised the glass to his lips, touching precisely where her lips had been and downed the rest in one go. She took the glass away with a raised brow and a provocative half-smile.
In many ways, theirs had been fraught, complicated relationship, but somehow, this one aspect between them had always been absurdly simple. Even in the early days, Lakshya had been attracted to her and found her a generous lover. He had discovered, to his surprise and relief, that they matched each other perfectly - in appetite and in attitude... neither of them cluttered lovemaking with feelings of guilt or hypocrisy. For Ragini, sex had been a tool to begin with; as she gradually relaxed into the relationship however, it had become a source of great pleasure, comfort... and hope! Such compatibility could only bode well for them.
Tonight, the passion between them took on an extra edge. He had taken her a little roughly earlier as he helped her out of her finery... dominant, branding her almost... even when he was spent, he had been loath to leave her, unable to wrench himself away... desperate, yielding to some unknown compulsion to make their coupling last. He had atoned for his ferocity a little... murmuring sweet words of apology... and in appeasing, brought her to peak again.
Now, she brought a bowl of halwa for herself and sat across him, eating it, rifling through a magazine the hotel had provided. Her face was scrubbed clean except for the sindoor in her maang. They had showered together earlier... Her washed tresses were loosely held back in a clasp, tendrils curling dry in the cool breeze. She wore his T shirt - a loose, grey, open necked shirt that threatened to slide off one shoulder. A wisp of hair teased her collar bone and she shook her head absently. She looked up to comment on the article she was perusing, but stopped short at the look in his eyes.
Suddenly breathless, she looked away. She turned deliberately to the paper, staring at it with unseeing eyes. A minute later, he tugged the magazine gently out of her hands, took her hands and pulled her up to stand. She looked into his eyes... they were unsmiling and half-lidded with desire... her lips parted involuntarily in response.
He bent, picked her up in his arms and strode into the bedroom.
