Posted:
OK, I'm quite sure Gauri doesn't have a black kurta fetsih. This is just me and my devious mind overthinking and furiously typing in a train. *bloody hell, I'm a nutcase*
I won't deny it, Omkara looks HAWWT in those dark kurtas!
Banke tu rehbar, mujhko mila hai...
I stare at him as he moves around the room, meticulously picking up Zahara's stuff that is lying around him. He has always been the organised one among the two of us, wanting everything in their right places before sleeping. I would have helped him, except that moving and bending has been turning harder each passing day for me so I just lie back and enjoy the view of my domestic husband.
There have been changes in him, his hair now stays open almost 24 hours a day and his shirts are of a bit more lively colour. Life has been peaceful for years now, deeply content. Almost like a fairytale, with him by my side every step of the way. He moves slightly in my vision with toy bricks in his hand that he arranges painfully slow in the tiny bag. The show I've been watching begs for my attention but I ignore it as I tilt slightly to take a better look at him.
He is wearing a black kurta, one that he has probably worn many times before. But this time, my eyes focus on the tiny buttons on his chest, right where it is a bit tighter because of his rippling muscles. I've always liked his night kurtas; they make me feel things I'm sure a kurta isn't supposed to make you feel.
'He looks sizzling hot in it', my mind simplifies things for me. An inexplicable urge to run my hands over the buttons and to undo them takes over me and I feel heat creep up over my face.
"Have I ever told you how good that kurta looks on you?" I ask him suddenly, not able to stop myself, only to have his hands freeze with Zahara's toy bulldozer in them.
"Never," he tells me as he drops off the toy before turning to my side of the bed.
"Black suits you," I tell him, trying to be nonchalant, turning back to the TV. My fingers fist themselves on the bedsheet, trying to keep my sudden out of control desires in check.
Damn pregnancy hormones!
He walks over to me very slowly while I focus my entire attention is on the very interesting drama unfolding on the TV, the scene interesting me immensely.
"Iraada kya hai Mrs. Omkara Singh Oberoi?" his husky voice sounds right beside me. I'm sure I would have jumped up from the bed if not for my current condition making it almost impossible to do so.
"Don't scare me!" I smack his shoulder in response.
"You didn't answer my question," his catches my other hand in his, thumb running over my knuckles. Something hot unfurls inside me at the touch.
"Iraada nek to nahi hai. Par aapki Akira beech me hai," I turn up my seductive smile for him, taking his hand to place it on my six month pregnant stomach.
The child kicks in response, acknowledging my words, causing a smile to break on his face. He bends down to press his lips against mine in a soft kiss that makes butterflies flutter in my stomach. It accelerates quickly as is the way with us, his lips turning demanding by the second, until I give in to temptation. My arm goes around his waist to keep a hold on him as he deepens the kiss, turning it fiercer.
His lips move down sensually, trailing a well-versed path to my throat, pausing just long enough to leave a nibble on my jaw. I moan in response, the TV long forgotten. His hands skim down my front slowly to settle on my hip, the other hand fisting in my hair. His teeth nibble at the tender skin of my neck, making my blood boil with a fierce need that has been quite frequent these days. My other hand travels up its own accord towards the tiny buttons of his kurta, struggling to undo them. I finally manage to undo a few of them, pushing the fabric aside to run soft fingers over his now exposed chest.
I run my other hand over his back, landing at the nape of his neck to pull him closer. He moves back up again to envelope my mouth with his own when I twist my fingers in his silky hair. My lips part immediately, granting him access to enter and explore greedily, leaving me breathless and wanting for more. He whimpers slightly when I tug at his hair, his mouth relentless against mine while I writhe on the bed.
"Omkara!" I somehow manage to wrench my mouth off his as the baby kicks once more. My chest heaves as I gasp in air to make up for the momentary loss of oxygen. I look at him as he pulls back, his hair is dishevelled, with all the running through my fingers have done through them. His kurta has wrinkles over it due to my tight grip with most of the buttons undone. And there is nothing more tempting I've ever seen, I'm sure.
"You, baby doll, are getting faster and quite apt at doing this," he gestures towards his undone button with narrowed eyes.
"I had an amazing teacher," I shift just slightly on the bed, and bring my palm around to rest against his cheek.
"Bet you did," he says with a smirk before turning his head to place a kiss on my palm. The kiss is sweet, leaving a tingling sensation where his lips land.
I look at him through hooded eyes, still a bit dizzy from the sudden makeout session. "I don't think this is advisable, not now," I tell him through clenched teeth as I gesture towards my current condition.
The words prompt a glint in his eyes that has my heart racing.
"Meri bholi chiraiyya. Your husband knows many things that are possible and are also quite safe," his fingers are already working on whatever his mind has planned and I feel my insides turn to mush just at the tone his voice has taken.
********
Yeah, throw things at me.
PS: the girl beside me is the real creep, she was staring at my screen, quite interested. So had to cut down the R rated stuff!
Tum Se Tum Tak
Sampoorna
Jhanak
Shiv Shakti
