IPKKND FF: KHUSHI by JALEBI JANE Thread 1: EPISODE 001-052 - Page 59

Originally posted by: JalebiJane

Thank you.

You are right, that though he does not call her---he is constantly thinking of her :-)

KHUSHI by Jalebi Jane (EPISODE 021)

ARNAV REACHED FOR KHUSHI'S PALLU, but she stopped him. With her eyes, she indicated the wall of uncovered windows. "Nobody"" he began to assure her, when an unsavoury image of Shyam lurking in a dark corner of the pool pavilion watching Khushi undress entered Arnav's mind. Shyam's comment at the cinema indicated he had observed Khushi sleeping by the pool. If he had spied on her once, he would spy again.

He left Khushi's side, parted the sliding doors, and stepped into the evening air. After activating the motion detector lights by the pool, he returned to the room and pulled close the curtains to shut the view. As a precaution, he also dimmed the interior lights slightly. It irked him that the sanctuary of their room and pool had been compromised. He briefly considered securing the area with surveillance cameras, but dismissed the idea immediately. It was not how he wanted them to live. In any case, Shyam's days at Raizada House were numbered.

Khushi was now seated at the stool in front of the mirror, removing her jewellery. He wondered at her thoughts. She had been subdued all evening; usually her animated chatter illuminated the conversation at the dining table. This evening she had neither spoke nor eaten much. He longed to touch her, but saw she was lost in her thoughts and it seemed wrong to approach her in this instant. He sat down on the recliner to remove his shoes. Was she hurt that he had not communicated with her all day? But then she would not have responded as she did to the earlier kiss. It had not been one-sided; she had matched his eagerness to be close.

To be close after a full day apart.

Arnav Singh Raizada knew who he was and he knew who he was not, Sisters. He was not a conventional lover. He didn't have the inclination nor the talent that some men possess to gratify a woman's sensibilities. Khushi had become essential to him---in every way; that was all he needed to know. He didn't feel the need to analyze it or articulate it to himself---and he certainly didn't know how to speak to her about it. In any case, he abhorred sentimentality.

Yet.

Yet---he recognized that Khushi had needs that were his obligation---no, not obligation, but his haq---to fulfill. Needs that were beyond her physical comfort and pleasure.

"Kya?" Khushi had twisted in the stool and was looking at him. He hadn't realized that his weighty thoughts had elicited a sigh.

"Come," he said, extending his hand to her. She went to him, and with a tug he pulled her onto his lap. He searched her eyes. Tell me what you need, Khushi, and it's yours.

"Kya?" she repeated, a questioning smile on her lips.

It was as though she had heard his thoughts and not quite understood his meaning. He could only manage a shrug. This was difficult for him, Sisters. To speak about affection and ardour was more difficult than that first apology he had made to her. She rested her hand lightly on his chest. His heart began to beat at her touch. Then something extraordinary happened.

She tucked her head under his chin, and pressed her ear against his heart, as though she was listening to it. She was all stillness and tenderness. But, all too quickly, she lifted her head---before he was prepared for that contact to end. He saw Khushi's eyes were dancing now, and she was sporting a saucy smile. One that fully restored every part of him. She lifted her eyebrows naughtily and asked, "would you like to see something?"

He nodded, stimulated by her abrupt mood shift and playful behaviour.

"Don't be afraid," she advised with mock seriousness, sliding off his lap. With her hands on his shoulders, she forced him to lean back. He settled back against the recliner and extended his legs, crossing his arms over his chest. She stood in the gap between his legs, with her back to him, and glanced at him over her shoulder.

"Ready?"

"Beyond ready," he replied, already fully aroused, and eager to see what this firecracker he had married had in mind.

KHUSHI FELT ALL THE NERVOUS ANTICIPATION of what she was about to reveal---but it felt thrilling at the same time. Arnav Singh Raizada had surprised her several times last night. It was her turn now. She dropped her pallu. With her fingertips, she felt her lower tummy for the flat beads which she had kept carefully hidden all evening beneath the drape of her saree. She decided to remove the hip belt, and set it aside. And felt it would be more impactful to also remove the saree, so she unwound it from her hips and let it fall to the floor. She was now clad only in her blouse and petticoat.  She threw him another look over her shoulder, and was delighted to see that she held his full attention. His eyes had that look---that look which she now understood perfectly.  Inhaling deeply to fortify her nerve, she turned around to face him.

He wore a lazy smirk, which was immediately wiped clean when his eyes fell to her abdomen.

"What the---!" he leaned forward for a better look.

Khushi congratulated herself on surprising him. "What-the, nahi---yeh braille hai," she informed her husband.

His hand reached out to touch the multi-coloured flat beads stuck to her skin in a seemingly random pattern. She took his index finger and traced it over the series of bumps, one letter at a time.

"A...S...R" she explained.

He exploded in laughter, showing all his teeth, exceedingly boyish. His laughter always made her heart dance and she grinned with the deepest joy she had felt all day.

"You do know you are pagal, don't you?" he said.

She nodded in full agreement. "Voh to mein hoon." She explained how braille body art was one of the ways the children raised funds at parties and events. The beads would fall off in the shower. "In fact," she said, "I suspect I lost part of the S in the kitchen when I was rolling out the puris---" She bent her head to examine her tummy.

Before she knew it, Arnav caught her by the hips, and tilted her onto the recliner.

"Let me have a closer look," he said, sliding off the recliner so he knelt at her feet. She tried to sit up, but his hand held her down.  His warm breath tickled her tummy, and then she felt his mouth press lightly against the beads, dropping little kisses everywhere, rendering her body into a liquid flame.

"Arnav..." she sighed, writhing as his tongue dipped into her navel, and burned a trail of small bites down her lower belly. Her breath quickened, as she began to feel some trepidation as to his intentions. But she did not have the will to halt this play. His mouth, tongue, lips continued an earnest exploration---and when she felt his fingers undo her petticoat she knew she had to stop him. This was too much. 

"Stop," she said. Even to herself her voice sounded sadly unconvincing.

"I have yet to begin, Khushi."

LATER. MUCH LATER they lay together with limbs entangled in that notorious state of being not quite dressed and not quite undressed. The recliner, Arnav noted, was a very serviceable piece of furniture. All these years it had served as a place for him to work,  to nap---and now it was the ideal place to ravish his wife. He looked down at said wife. Khushi's head was resting on his chest. He tilted her chin up so he could read her eyes. Those bewitching eyes. His gaze became too intense perhaps as he saw rosy colour climb to her cheeks. She reached to draw up her petticoat, and was moving away, when he halted her with his voice.

"Khushi?"

She waited with a questioning look. The necessary words refused to assemble in his mouth. Instead, the following emerged:

"You hardly ate this evening. Let's go out for samosas."

Her eyes widened with anticipation. "It's not too late?"

"Not at all," he said, coming to his feet. "Dress quickly. We leave in fifteen." He gave her a spank on the posterior to set her running.

KHUSHI HAD A QUICK WASH, slipped on a casual suit and was still brushing her hair twenty-two minutes later. Arnav grasped the brush out of her hand and began to lead her out of the bedroom. They were at the bedroom door, when Khushi turned and said, "mera dupatta!" pointing to the bed. Arnav who was nearer the bed, reached for it. In the meantime, Khushi unlatched and parted the bedroom doors.

There stood Shyam.

He was clearly as startled to see her as she was to see him. But unlike him, she had every right to be there. He none.

"Khushiji---" he began, in his usual obsequious fumbling manner.

Arnav interrupted, "---wait in the car, Khushi." He pressed the car keys into her hand. Khushi hesitated, and met her husband's eyes. Arnav gave her a brief nod indicating she should do as he asked.

She had no choice. She moved out of the doorway and down the hall. Her reluctant feet carried her down the stairs to the main floor, but her heart remained upstairs with Arnav.

What had Shyam been doing at the door?  What would he say to Arnav? Her heart wilted with each thought, all the former happiness of this evening dissolving into fear. She reached the car and without knowing what she did, she climbed into the driver's seat. Her eyes were locked on the entry to the house, waiting for Arnav. Khushi found herself counting backwards from ten. At three, she saw him emerge. And, at one, he opened the driver's side door.

His face was grim.

Her heart sank.

It had taken Shyam all of five minutes to destroy their pleasure-filled evening. She shifted into the passenger seat, and once Arnav had settled into his seat, he reached across and clipped Khushi's seatbelt into place. He reversed the car out of the driveway and entered the road. Khushi had been Arnav's passenger enough times to read his mood from the way he handled his vehicle. When angry, his movements were choppy and rough, as they were now. She also knew enough to not try to speak to him in this moment; however, when would there ever be an ideal moment to speak about the man who was his sister's husband? Khushi felt she must speak. She feared it; but, she also feared the result of not speaking.

"Arnavji---?" she began, looking at him earnestly.

Arnav took his hand off the gear shift and caught hers. He brought it to his lips and kissed it. He then placed her hand on his thigh and shifted gears. It was all done silently. It silenced her also.

Between shifting gears, his hand returned to hold hers. When they reached their destination, he exited and helped her out of the car. She tried again. "There is something I must tell you."

"I know," he nodded. "But, not now."

"Lekin, yeh---" she tried to insist, her hands clutching at his forearms to indicate the full import of this conversation.

He caught her face in his hands, and looking into her eyes, he said, "Khushi, if you want to say something---then say that you love me."

Jalebi Jane